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buckymorelikefuckme · 2 months ago

Text

fri(end)s

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 3.8k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** friends/roommates to lovers oh my god they were roommates, smoking weed, brief mutual masturbation, frottage (i think that's the right word idfk i'm all out of practice), p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), reader has nipple piercings bc i said so, slight pain kink? mayhaps? ok pls let me know if i’ve missed anything!

a/n: i made this fic my bitch tonight. this is absolutely not proofread or beta'd, you're just gonna have to take it for what it is, sorry not sorry. anyway, it’s been too long since i wrote for this beefy man :’) i really hope you like it. this was originally very loosely inspired by a scene in what’s your number? but it quickly gained a mind of its own to become what it is now, so. there ya go. title is from the song of the same name by V of bts thank you very much. any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged!!! xoxo

bucky barnes masterlist || main masterlist

Bucky’s introduction to weed was something you’d been supremely proud of.

When the two of you became roommates, you both had been kind of quiet and kept to yourselves at first, which isn’t too unusual, but you noticed that Bucky almost always had a frown etched into his handsome face. A frown that only ever softened after a night out with his friends and, you assumed, a decent hook-up. It never took long for that frown to reappear, though.

You didn’t know what could have been so stressful for him, but you knew he needed a way to relax, and not just for himself, either. The sight of him glumly moving around the apartment—honestly, you’ve never seen someone make fixing a bowl of cereal look so fucking sad—was beginning to weigh on your own nerves.

So, naturally, you thought of asking him if he’s ever tried weed. Somehow, his frown had deepened at that question. He said no, shocking absolutely no one, and then you asked if he wanted to try it. Admittedly, he was a little hesitant at first, but he eventually agreed.

The way his body, all two hundred and whatever pounds of muscle and angst, sank into the recliner like a ragdoll when the high really hit him made you grin. Though, to be fair, you were already smiling, what with you also being high. It was the first time you saw a real, genuine smile from Bucky, and you were immensely pleased to have given him a way to decompress from whatever kept him so tense all the time.

It became a sort of thing for you two. Saturday nights were for getting high, binge-watching Love Island (UK, because you both have class, thank you very much) and raiding the pantry for all the good snacks when the munchies hit. You’d never tell anyone, but those nights quickly became something you looked forward to every week, something you could cling to when your own life got a little difficult. Who knew smoking weed—and on a few special occasions, doing edibles—with your roommate would make a friendship blossom so prettily?

***

After how late Bucky got in last night, you knew he’d be sleeping in and would more than likely have a hangover. So, for this particular Saturday morning, you get up and quietly start gathering your laundry while Bucky snores loudly into his pillow from his bedroom. You were getting behind on it anyway, down to your last pair of clean shorts.

Before you put them on, though, you purse your lips in thought, staring at your pile of dirty clothes. You didn’t want to put on clean shorts with the panties and shirt you slept in last night. It would be smarter to wash them with the rest of your clothes, right? But that would leave you topless, which, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it, but you’re not sure Bucky would appreciate waking up to you walking around with your tits out. Or maybe he would? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and then remember that Bucky did his laundry yesterday, and knowing him, he probably left at least some of his clean clothes in the dryer. Surely he wouldn’t mind you borrowing a shirt.

With that plan in mind, you dump your clothes into your laundry basket and make your way down the hall to the doors where your washing and drying units are (a major selling point of the apartment, if you’re honest). Just like you thought, Bucky’s left a load in the dryer, and even some of his button-downs are hung up on the drying rack. You quickly pull your t-shirt off, shivering against the cool air, and reach for one of the hangers, slipping his shirt off of it and onto yourself. For a dress shirt, it’s actually quite comfortable, obviously one of the shirts he wears more often with how soft and a little worn the fabric is. You shimmy your panties down your legs and add them to your pile, grabbing your clean shorts and tugging them on, too.

You make quick work of starting your first load of clothes, closing the doors to muffle the sound of the washer, and head back to your room to do your morning routine. By the time you’re done and have also cooked yourself breakfast, Bucky is staggering down the hall and into the kitchen, hair a tangled nest atop his head and eyes bleary.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you greet with a teasing smile.

He flips you off and beelines for the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup and not speaking a word until he’s downed at least half of it. Part of you is concerned for his esophagus, but you’ve long since come to the conclusion that Bucky’s probably got a thing for pain—both physically and emotionally.

“Remind me to tell Sam he isn’t allowed to bring Natasha on our nights out anymore,” he grumbles, voice rough from both sleep and a long night of drinking. “I’ve never taken so many shots of vodka in my life.”

You hum. “Sounds like my kind of woman, actually.” He cuts his eyes at you, silently judging while taking another sip of his coffee. “Want me to fry up some bacon and eggs for you?” You almost laugh at the way his expression immediately switches to pleading.

The rest of the morning is spent finishing your laundry and putting it all away, even gathering up Bucky’s clothes that he’d left and dumping them on his bed. You’ll leave the folding to him, though; your generosity only extends so far, after all.

Lunch rolls around and you both decide to order takeout from the burger place down the street, Bucky shushing you when you keep insistently whispering for him to order extra truffle fries (which he does order, after you’ve sworn pain of death if he doesn’t) and once it arrives, the two of you settle around the coffee table in the living room, putting on a random movie to watch while you eat.

And of course, when the sun begins to lower on the horizon, you start pulling out your stash and getting everything ready. Bucky’s already got the windows open in the living room to let the smell air out as you smoke, and he also has Love Island queued up and ready to go.

While you smoke the first joint, you make the conscious decision to bake a small batch of brownies for later. Bucky sits on the counter beside you, passing the joint back and forth as he quietly watches you work. Wordlessly, you hand over the bowl and spoon to him after you’ve poured the batter into the awaiting pan. No matter how many times you’ve tried to warn him about salmonella he always insists on licking them clean.

Sometimes, in these moments, you forget how surly he used to be with you. Not that he was ever rude or anything, but he never would have pouted about not being able to eat raw brownie batter before you helped him break down some of those walls of his.

***

“He’s such a dick,” Bucky mumbles a while later, face impassive and tone bland as he refers to one of the islanders of the show, slouching so deeply into the couch he’s practically become one with it.

The high from the first joint is finally kicking in fully, doing its job of releasing every ounce of tension from your bodies. It’s also making your mouth dry and tummy rumble for snacks. Thank god you made those brownies and Bucky unearthed some candy from past movie nights and lots of chips out of the pantry cabinets.

You hum at his comment. “Most men are.”

Bucky turns his head in your direction with an affronted expression that has you snickering. He goes to reply, giving you the sassiest once-over you’ve ever seen, but his eyes doubletake on your torso and he pauses. He stares for a moment.

“That’s my shirt,” he states.

You look down at the shirt in question, of which you’ve worn all day long and somehow he’s only just now noticing.

“Wow, you’re like Sherlock Holmes or something,” you drawl.

Bucky stares some more, and then, “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“Because I had laundry to do and I needed something to wear while all my stuff was washing,” you say in a “duh” tone.

“But…” He frowns. “It’s my favorite.”

You snort inelegantly. “Bucky, you literally have, like, at least four other white dress shirts.”

“So? What, I can’t have a favorite one just because I have more of the same color?”

“Christ,” you say on an exasperated exhale. “I’ll give it back before bed, okay? I don’t wanna move right now. I’m scared I’ll bump into stuff again.”

Bucky huffs a laugh at that, which turns into a full-blown giggle fit that is contagious. Soon after your shared laughter dies down, the conversation moves back to the illicit love triangles among the islanders. You trash talk the couple that Bucky likes, just to see him get riled up and rant about how they’re the most real couple of the season and everyone else is just jealous. He gets red in the face and pouty when you remind him that this is a heavily produced show about pretty people getting a chance to get famous for being pretty people by hooking up with each other and playing stupid games that mean nothing in the grand scheme of it all. Really, it’s quite cute.

To placate him, though, you get a second joint rolled and let him take the first hit.

***

Turns out this second one hits you rather harder than normal. It feels like your head is a balloon and your neck is the string tethering it to the rest of your body. Everything feels much more sluggish compared to all the other times you’ve gotten high with Bucky. Somewhere in the depths of your hazy brain you remember that you’d gotten a different brand this time around; perhaps that’s why.

On the tv, the islanders are getting ready for bed, and once the lights go out in their room, some of the couples engage in some serious heavy petting, lifting their comforters for a semblance of privacy. The sounds start next, sighs and low moans, and it all begins to settle into your subconscious. Between one lazy blink and the next, you realize you’re… actually kind of horny. It’s not enough for you to really pay attention to it, not at first, just a little sprinkle of it, a tiny twist in your core that briefly has you pressing your thighs together then relaxing again.

But then the arousal builds up inside you so slowly and easily that you don’t even realize your hand has apparently grown a mind of its own and found its way down your shorts. You inhale sharply at the touch of your fingers against your clit, lashes fluttering as the sensation registers. The sound gains Bucky’s attention from where he's been lounging on the opposite end of the couch with his head tipped back and eyes closed.

They’re not closed anymore. Out of your peripheral, you see his head shift in your direction, feeling the weight of his stare like a physical thing. Your mind is both connected and disconnected from your actions, half-aware that this is probably not the smartest thing to be doing, that you’re absolutely crossing a major boundary. Touching yourself in this way in front of your roommate, your friend, is so not normal.

Yet, for some idiotic reason, you leave your hand down your shorts, continuing to lightly pet at your clit, neediness rising steadily. Even though you know he’s watching—and suspiciously quiet—you can’t help but let your fingers slither down to where you’re beginning to drip to gather some of your slick and bring it back to your clit and swirling your fingers at a sedate pace, sighing as your nipples tighten underneath your shirt.

Bucky is as still as a statue, gaze honed in on the movement of your hand, on how your thighs ease open more and more the longer you play with your pussy.

It takes very little time for your eyes to wander over to the man just a couple feet away, and to then notice and fixate on the growing bulge in Bucky’s sweatpants. The weight of his stare is almost a physical thing and you swallow roughly as you think about what he might look like, if he’s at all how you’ve secretly imagined when you’re alone in your bedroom, in much the same position as you are in now.

His hands creep towards his thighs and smooth down the expanse of them and back up, slowly, over and over, like he’s teasing himself. Like he’s teasing you. Your fingers don’t stop as you lift your other hand to tweak and pinch at your nipples through well-worn cotton, a tiny noise slipping past your dry lips.

Bucky pulls the hem of his shirt up, exposing part of his toned stomach and only hesitates for a split second before he lowers the waistband of his pants, pulling his cock out and matching the pace of his strokes with the pace of your fingers. The head of his cock is pink and precum makes it shine under the low light of the lamps in the living room.

You bite your lip as your arousal increases from the sight alone, and you decide to follow his lead, just a bit. You whine from the loss of stimulation when you remove your hand to shimmy your shorts down and off your legs, letting them fall to the floor carelessly. And now, Bucky has an unrestrained view of your glistening cunt as you sink two of your fingers inside yourself and use your other fingers to rub all around your clit. It has you gasping, eyelids threatening to close through the pleasure that sparkles throughout every vein in your body.

It’s good. Amazing, even. And it’s only making you want more. Bucky, it seems, feels much the same.

“C’mere,” he rasps, tone leaving no room for arguing, never mind that you wouldn’t have argued anyway.

You sit up on the couch, knee-walking over to where he’s still in his slumped position, never pulling your hand away from your clit because it feels like you’d cry if you did. Bucky curses under his breath and lets go of his cock to firmly grab you by the hips and tug you onto his lap. Your pussy ends up aligned perfectly with his cock, and you both shudder as you begin gliding back and forth across it, small movements that only increase the suspense of what likely comes next. He meets your eyes, red and glazed over from both the high and the toe-curling feeling of his cock along your wet center.

The kiss, when it happens, tastes like weed and the peanut M&M’s you both were snacking on just a little while ago. Bucky's tongue licks into your mouth like he can’t get enough, nips at your bottom lip to hear you whimper, gets a fistful of your hair and pulls and guides you until you’re pliant for him.

He knocks your hand away from your clit, but before you can complain about it he’s nudging the head of his cock against your entrance and you’re gasping all over again, grinding sloppily as you try to get him inside you. He finally sinks the head in and you allow gravity to aid you in taking the rest of him, moaning brokenly and high pitched at the stretch of him inside you. Bucky groans deep in his chest, hands clutching your waist like a lifeline as you slowly circle your hips, getting used to the feeling.

You stay like that for a few minutes, your breath and Bucky’s mixing hotly between you, and then you finally start fucking yourself on his cock. He grunts when you clench around him on the downstroke. You decide you like the sound, and you really wanna hear it again, so you repeat the action, moaning when the grunt is accompanied by a curse and his fingernails biting into your skin.

It takes what feels like ages for you to realize your thighs and knees ache from riding him, the weed making everything feel like it’s floating, including yourself, but Bucky sees the furrow in your brows and the shaking strain of your legs, and in the next second, he’s got you both moved from the couch to the floor. Time ticks on glacially slow like molasses as you stare up at him whipping his shirt off from where you’re sprawled on the carpet, your limbs shifting lethargically when he spreads your legs to better fit himself between them.

He fucks you hard, but not fast. you’re both much too high for anything fast, yet it still feels like your heart is going to pulse out of your chest, rabbiting away like you’ve run a marathon. Bucky buries his face in your neck, mouthing at your skin while he thrusts almost lazily.

Suddenly, his large hands encapsulate your hips, fingers pressing into the fleshiest parts of them as he sits up, getting his knees under him so he can rest on his haunches. He keeps your ass in his lap and your legs spread on either side of his waist. It makes your back arch and hips tilt up into a position that has you shuddering and sobbing when he begins to grind his thick cock deeper into you.

“I could stay buried in you for hours,” he mutters.

He reaches for the throw pillows on the couch and puts them under your hips, and then he fucks into you so hard it steals the breath right from your lungs, your mouth hanging open on a silent cry. His thrusts are sharper now, angled to perfection and making your toes curl so hard you fear them cramping and body jolt when he glides all the way back in. You gasp when Bucky rips open your shirt (his shirt, your mind helpfully supplies) and sends the buttons scattering across the floor. Those will be a bitch to find and clean up, but that’s a problem for much later.

“Fuck,” he grunts when he sees the piercings glinting in your nipples. “I fucking knew it,” he continues, squeezing each of your breasts in his hands and pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making you gasp again, pushing up into the sensation.

“Knew—“ You cut off with a whine when he pinches harder. “Knew what?”

“You walk around here wearing those goddamn cropped tank tops as tight as possible with no bra. Thought I was going crazy when I saw what looked like piercings underneath them,” he confesses as his hands travel back down to grip your waist, never losing his rhythm while he pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

At the sight of your tits bouncing with the movement of his hips, he groans, gravelly, his top lip curling as he grits his teeth and squeezes your hips so hard it hurts, and it only adds to your pleasure. With the way your skin is tingling, your pussy fluttering around him nonstop, you’re not sure if it’s because Bucky is fucking you that well or if it’s the weed. It’s probably both, and you have a split second thought that you’ll just have to test that theory once the high wears off.

It’s almost ironic, you think, how wet and messy your cunt is compared to how dry your mouth feels. It probably doesn’t help that your jaw seems to be permanently slack as you’re unable to stop your gasping inhales, only to exhale sounds you might be embarrassed about if you were clear-headed. Alas, your mind is a lot more focused on the way Bucky is splitting you open and carving a space inside you all for himself.

“So much better,” you whisper absently, fingers clawing at the carpet beneath you.

“Better than what?” he wonders, shifting to grip under your knees and push them up, changing the angle.

You cry out sharply, writhing uselessly in his hold. “My imagination,” you whimper.

Through bleary, tear filled eyes, you glance up at him just in time to see his lips pull into a boyish smirk.

“Mine too,” he confesses and sends you reeling.

You whine and reach down quickly to rub your throbbing clit, your whole body jerking as your pleasure mounts higher and higher. Bucky moans as he watches, stare trained on where you’re joined. His speed does pick up then, the slightest bit, a shudder wracking his frame as you clench down on him, head tipping back and exposing the long expanse of his throat for a brief moment before he suddenly leans over you, letting your legs fall into the cradle of his elbows.

“Won’t you be good for me and cum?” he asks, breathless, hips never letting up.

You open your mouth to reply but all that comes out is a strangled cry of his name, your fingers keeping their pace as your climax swells until it overflows, bursting like a firework and pleasure like you’ve never felt before sparks through every vein, muscle, and bone within you. Bucky curses in such a way it would make a sailor blush as you pulse around him. The sounds of your orgasm and his thrusts meeting your hips are the filthiest things you’ve ever heard, and it doesn’t stop for several moments, dragging on and on. It leaves you trembling and shaking and trying futilely to gather air in your lungs as he refuses to let up.

With great resolve, you bring your wet fingers away from your sensitive clit and up to his panting mouth. He groans at your taste, licking and sucking on your fingers as he chases his own release.

“Please,” you whisper, tears finally escaping your lashes and trailing down the sides of your face, and that seems to be his undoing.

Bucky moans, something high and broken, fucking into you rough enough that you’re worried about carpet burn. But then he pauses, gasping as he finally lets go and rides out his high.

Your hand slips from his mouth and falls to the floor like a deadweight. The only noise in the room now is the both your and Bucky’s harsh breathing and the television still playing that stupid fucking show. Bucky doesn’t move right away, of which you’re very thankful, because you’re not ready to feel the emptiness you know is coming, and it feels nice in a weird way to have him buried in you.

“Fuck,” he exhales, breaking the relative silence.

It makes you giggle, a small thing that turns into something uncontrollable, and when you manage to look at Bucky, he’s grinning in a dopey way that sets you off even more.

This is definitely something the two of you will have to talk about when you’re both sober, but like the buttons, that can be handled later. Although, something tells you it’ll all turn out just fine.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #pls take this away from me before i scream

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okkotsuus · 4 months ago

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"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki b.) !

features: katsuki bakugo

contents: fantasy au. angst. hurt/comfort/more hurt. mutual pining. barabrian!katsuki. fem!reader. childhood friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again. kidnapping. grief. crying. implied panic attack. major character death. no beta we die like men. 3.9k

notes: i've been yearning desperately to make bakugo say stoick's famous line from httyd2 (my second favorite movie)... if there's interest i'm considering continuing this into the canon verse with it being these two 'reincarnated'.

tagging: @saexy (for enabling and encouraging me in killing off characters) & @meristryker (for enabling me in the gc like a real one)

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die. watching the loving smiles of his parents, the gentle caress of his father's hand to soothe his mother's unbridled anger: it made his stomach churn.

yet, at the tender age of seven, while on a trip to a nearby village to discuss the war shifting on the horizon, he finds himself absolutely smitten by their chieftain's daughter. wide e/c eyes peeking out from behind her mother's leg, hands clutching onto the hem of the long skirt.

katsuki finds himself enamoured in that instance, seeing sweet you, looking at the boy with such curious eyes. he stomps over to you: temper even fiery in his youth. his hand grabs onto yours as he hauls you out from behind the safety of your mother.

under the dim candlelight of the meeting room, flickering flames cast dancing rays across your skin. his chubby little face is scrunched into a scowl, tugging you out of the room and into the courtyard with a tenderness that betrayed his expression.

"i'm katsuki and you better not forget it!" his pitchy voice calls, still dragging you behind him. he looks over his shoulder, soft red eyes narrowed in what was an attempt to be intimidating.

but when he sees the relaxing of your eyelids, falling slightly in contentment, with a warm smile that rivals any feeling of victory: the mask of indifference slips in a blink of an eye. red dusts over the slops of his face, baby-fat painted the same carnelian as his eyes. his small hand grips tighter onto yours, as if he never would let you go.

your chubby little face stretches as your smile widens into a toothy grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. "got it, katsuki, i'm y/n!" he swears your voice is just like the lullaby his mother would hum while rocking him to sleep, bringing a rush of warmth through his chest.

that day, katsuki bakugou falls terribly in love with y/n l/n.

the two of you are deemed inseparable, hands always connecting like opposing poles of a magnet. pinkies intertwined stronger than any woven cloth. it's as pure and innocent as it can be.

if one were to see y/n, then it was irrevocably certain that katsuki was a few steps away. it sends rumors spiralling through the lands that there will be a union between the bakugo barbaricum and l/n dynasty. you're only eight when there's an attempt made for your hand.

the thought of two families as powerful as you and katsuki's joining was a fearful thing to many. it spelled doom for many weaker civilizations, those who had dug their own graves with their actions.

your family, blessed be you to have been born to loving parents in a world such as this, easily rejects the many proposals. the l/n dynasty is in a state of power where they are not forced to fend for their village: allowing you this freedom.

running through the streets of his stronghold, chasing each other for the sake of some game that was the farthest thing from either of your minds. katsuki feels whole when you are at his side. the world doesn't seem so ugly, he doesn't feel so angry, everything sings the hymns of the heavens.

he can't pull his ruby eyes off of your form by the age of fifteen. the katsuki you had known, baby-faced with a slight stutter, has began to fill out into a man. his shoulders broaden and begin to carry thick cords of muscle. the chubbiness of his cheeks begins to give rise to sharper angles. his whiny voice is pushed aside by a more gravelly tone. he shoots up like a sprout, hunching over slightly in faces that used to fit him so easily.

but he isn't the only one who is growing into his frame. your shoulders soften at the corners, collarbones visible with every slight movement. your baby fat begins to settle and collect on your hips, rounding them. those toothy grins of yours become framed by pretty lips, always looking soft as a pillow. clothes that used to drape over your like a sheet now feel tighter in certain places, stretching over curves that popped up overnight.

the two of you don't know what to do with yourselves, stolen looks when the other isn't looking. you still hook pinkies, but the touch sends flares of heat running up the back of your neck. it's like you were just meeting each other for the first time all over again.

katsuki feels like a damn sap with the way his heart thunders under his skin: threatening to burst out. he's too taken to notice the heat that was rising to your face whenever he was around, the way your hands nervously would grip onto the swaying fabric of your skirt. too blind to see that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you.

hurried words, lingering touches, sneaking glances, the two of you had every hint of love right in front of your faces. yet, there's a hesitance that lingers in the back of young minds: afraid that falling in love would end up with no one catching them.

unsurprisingly, katsuki is the one who jumps first. it's a quiet night, the moon is high in the sky. his breath puffs out in front of him like smoke, winter beginning to show herself once more.

you looked too beautiful under the soft azure glow that the celestial sky casts upon you, he simply couldn't bear another moment without you known how much his very soul ached for you.

on the eve of his sixteenth birthday he whispers the words like a prayer, voice softened and gentle for once in his life. "y/n... you plague my every waking thought, i cannot let my heart beat any longer without it being yours."

e/c eyes widen as your head snaps to him, lips parting in shock. katsuki beats you to it, rough palms (once baby-soft) cupping your cheek with a tenderness he was unaware he possessed.

the stars illuminate the sunkissed slopes of his cheekbones, showing the fine lashes that fan out over his eyes. katsuki was ethereal, in every sense of the word, it catches your breath in a hitch. your mind stumbles through everything you could say right now, desperately trying to find the perfect response.

but when the pads of his thumbs drag over the apples of your cheeks, leaving a buzz in the wake of his touch, all rational thought leaves as you allow words to flow like a stream. "i have loved you longer than i have known you, katsuki." your voice is hushed, only filling the small space between the two of you: like a secret that only he and you would ever know.

it sends a trill up your spine when his eyes visibly soften, his face had been growing more and more sharp by the day but only when he was with you did the curve of his cheeks soften. he turns back into a boy around you, as you turn back into a girl when held so gently between his hands.

katsuki surges forwards, nose clumsily knocking against yours, teeth colliding with your own. he's inexperienced, never having kissed a girl, much less even though of kissing anyone but you. you both are a mess, giggling softly through messy pecks smearing over each other's faces. it feels like you're both those giddy kids once more, chasing the other through the cobbled streets of your village. he makes your heart sing.

it was even harder to be apart from him now, hands fully clasped together as you walk through the streets of either of your hometowns. yet, no one is surprised. neither of your parents nor his even bat an eye when you announce the courtship at a family dinner.

love is as natural as breathing for you and katsuki. inherently you have always known exactly what the other needs. he knows just how much you like the wildflowers that grow en-route between your homes. you know just how much he likes when you rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss against the corner of his lips.

it's young and dumb, a rush of big emotions and smiles that stretch your cheeks so far they ache. once you both are eighteen, katsuki turns the courtship into a betrothal. an elegant gold ring, with a garnet slotted right in the center, it sits pretty on your ring finger. his band is thicker, small e/c gemstones scattered along the surface. when in battle he loops it through a chain around his neck: pressing a kiss to the ring before charging forwards.

the world has known y/n l/n and katsuki bakugo have been in love for nearly twelve years, official for three, and betrothed for one. the bakugo barbaricum and the l/n dynasty have began making their plans to unify upon the wedding. it sparks a wave of unease in the badlands.

all it takes is an emissary sent from the dark forest for your world to crumble into shambles. a demon who seems to be the land's scourge reincarnated, hand that turn all to ash, pillages your beloved village. he comes in tow with a mimic and a fire mage. destruction rains as you are brought to the center as their singular demand is you.

your eyes lock with the demon's red eyes, a color that had made you feel so safe until now. the hair on the nape of your neck stands pin-straight as his hand extended towards you: palm up.

a flurry of emotions rush through you like a burst dam, memories of katsuki at the forefront. you want to be selfish, to damn him and his band of criminals to hell, to fight back despite the gravity of the situation. but he is bringing terror upon the people you swore to protect with your life.

so, you step forwards, soft hand sliding into his own. never had a rough palm felt like daggers against your skin, never had you so violently despised the way carmine shines in the light of blue flames.

to save your people, your family, the home you have known your entire life: you go. swept away in black mist. the last thing you see of that place is the bakugo horde rushing towards the gates, your eyes lock with katsuki's before the void claims you.

katsuki lets out a guttural scream as her charges head first into the miasma, falling onto the ground as the last wisp flows just through his fingers. his fist slams against the ground, hands gasping at the dirt you had just been on. he allows himself to cry in front of someone other than you, a wail echoing through the ruins of your village.

that day, you disappear off the face of the realm. no matter how many search parties are sent into the dark forests in the badlands, they all return empty-handed (if they return at all). katsuki keep his ring around his neck, so it beats against his bare chest with every movement: like a reminder of how it felt when his heart actually beat .

scars wind around his arms, around his biceps, over his forearms, across his shoulders. his face is hardened, permanent frown on the lips you used to kiss so tenderly. he's angrier than ever, fuse short as his attention span.

he is a shell of the man he had been, going through the motions of survival but never truly being alive.

this persists for a grueling two years. for seven-hundred and thirty days. for seventeen-thousand five-hundred twenty hours. he is separated from the only person that has ever felt like home, the woman he has loved longer than he knew how to read.

he masks it behind his ego, boisterous laugh to hide the ringing in is ears that hadn't been able to stop. he's more violent the field, less forgiving when in training with kirishima. the explosions that thunder from his palms produce a blackened smoke that lingers and settles in his lungs like a fog.

yearning hits him late at night when he lays alone in bed, a bed that you had once shared with him. silent tears pour, running down the sides of katsuki's face as he stares blankly up at the ceiling. his breath feels short as his chest heaves to get air in. the man's mind is clouded with the look on your face as those bastards took you. he can still remember every single little twitch of your expression when you finally saw him. he remembers the way your breath hitched. he remembers the tears that began to pool at the corners of your eyes.

but, most of all, he remembers not seeing you: for what feels like the first time in his life.

katsuki cannot recall when he finally fell asleep, or if he ever even truly did. his dreams are plagued with you anyways, so the line between memory and dream is thin as a tightrope.

he has a dream that he makes it in time to save you and wakes up alone. that one sticks with him for months, hanging over him like a shadow. if he was only a minute sooner, a stride faster, reacted quicker. maybe you would be in his arms right now instead of gods know where.

relief comes in a rumor that circles in a tavern that a woman with h/c hair and e/c eyes was spotted wondering through the dark forest. katsuki doesn't hesitate, he makes no effort to send out a scout party. he rides at dawn, horse hooves beating against the grass in a frenzied gallop as he makes his way into the badlands.

none of the rouges or thieves hope to stand a chance with him, the smart ones don't even try. he vanquishes the less fortunate with a single swing of his cutlass. the man doesn't stop to rest, only to water his horse and allow it to graze while he catches a brief nap.

his horse comes to a stop right outside the dark forests, whinnying in rejection to enter. katsuki doesn't blame the poor thing, this was the kind of place people went with no intention to come back from. he dismounts, not tying his horse off: it would return with a whistle.

the forest is eerie, yawning opening that is reminiscent of a gaping mouth. but he didn't fear. because at this point, he'd rather not come back if it meant he wasn't coming back with you.

footfalls crunching against leaves and sticks echo through the dim lit treeline. the canopy is so thick that it completely obscures the bright sunlight katsuki has just been under: the perfect place for criminals to hide. the trees creak and groan, as if the land itself was breathing and living.

only when he hears the snap of a twig does he stop, his head snaps around, a flash of h/c darting just out of the corner of his visions. the man's heart stops as he stumbles to pursue, not minding the whipping of low handing branches against his face. not when he could see you darting through the underbrush.

he finally sees you in the full when you run into a path dead-ended by brambles. it's really you. y/n, his y/n.

but you look over your shoulder with such a forlorn look it makes his heart ache in his chest. you don't believe that it's really him. "toga, this isn't funny, it's cruel to keep making me see him." your voice is rougher than he remembered, as if your throat had been worn. it makes his fists clench at his sides.

the mimic had been wearing his face, just to torment you?

just the thought of it sends a rage burning deep in his chest. he has no way of knowing what you have been through. katsuki couldn't protect you: like he always feared he would fail to do.

his steps toward you are hesitant, ruby red eyes softening the second he sees your face. his heart is pounding out of his ribs, it makes him wonder if you can hear it.

a rough hand reaches up to roughly tug the chain that held his engagement band around his neck, the links snapping and clattering to the ground. he doesn't even look at it. with a gentleness, he holds out the ring to you.

your eyes dart back between the metal and him, hands tentatively reaching for it. the thundering race of your heartbeat is all you can hear. your hands, once soft, now rough as his bush against his own as you roll the ring between your fingers.

katsuki's heart breaks when he feels the callouses on your fingertips. he lowers slowly to his knees in front of you, tears fighting their way to prick at the corners of his eyes. he looks up at you like you are the light in the world, a goddess before him. in a way, you are, because he had prayed to every deity to hold you again, even if it was only once more.

"you're as beautiful as the day i lost you." his words come out in a rasp. thick emotion coursing through his chest; nearly choking him.

he watched your eyes widen, tears pooling as you too crash onto the ground. your arms wrap tight around his neck, face pressed side-by-side with his own. strong arms encircle your waist in an instant, pressing you closer with an urgency.

"katsuki... oh gods, katsuki..." you don't even know what to say, just repeating his name like a desperate prayer. your cheeks are wet and your chest aches but you don't care, because he's finally here.

lips clash desperately, just as messy as the kiss the two of you first shared five years ago. it's a mess of teeth and tongue as your fingers tangle into ash-blonde hair, his hands finding the back of your head and your hip. he sucks the breath out of you, as if wanting to absorb you into his being.

and you'd let him if he asked.

carmine eyes search for e/c, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pulls back to study your face. it's like you never left. your eyes are tired, there's some grime on your cheeks, a soft scar above your eyebrow that you've had since you were thirteen.

the softest smile spreads on his face, forehead pressing against yours as his lashes flutter shut. katsuki lets out a deep sigh, one he had been holding for nearly two years now.

warmth blooms in your chest as everything finally settles back into place like puzzle pieces. your hearts beat in sync, you draw breath when he exhales, everything is right in the world once more.

but your heart skips a beat as your eyes open to see that cursed white hair with horns peeking out from below it. tomura shigaraki. a wicked smirk on his lips as he's leaned back against a tree, simply watching.

your hands grip tighter onto the back of the shawl draping over katsuki's shoulders, breathing turning shaky and ragged.

no. no. no. they couldn't take this from you. not again. not after how hard you fought to escape the league just at the fleeting chance of being able to see the man you love. this had to be some cruel joke, right? a trick of the light, maybe...

even you aren't naive enough to believe that, your eyes close as you lean against katsuki, head burying into the crook of his neck. your fiddle with his hands to slip the ring back onto it's rightful place on his third finger. a part of you had already resigned to being ripped away again.

after two years with the demon, you learned firsthand what shigaraki was capable of. and you were not going to allow katsuki to find it out as well.

your legs shook as you stood, a weak smile given at your lover's confused look. "i'll always love you, 'suki, you know that." his eyes widen as his head nods, brows furrowing.

"then let me keep you safe."

carnelian irises widen in realization as his head turns to look back, growl ripping from his chest at the sight of the scourge of the realm's protege. his hands immediately reach for the hilt of his sword, explosions popping in his palms.

but you're already beginning to approach. katsuki seizes you in one arm, hauling you away like the day you first met. he runs through the forest with you: knowing that shigaraki would not allow the both of you to leave.

he bounds over winding tree roots, holding you steady and tight against his chest. the impending sense of doom begins to crawl up the back of his neck, but he needs you to be safe.

with you in his arm, he stumbles out of the forest, shrill whistle leaving his lips as the sound of hooves grows closer. with ease he sets you up on the saddle, but he does not join. you realize immediately what is about to happen. "katsuki-"

"no. it's my turn to keep you safe, y/n. i've always loved you, and i always will. in every life i will find you, and in every life, i will protect you." his words bring tears to your eyes as you desperately stake your head, sobs bubbling past your lips.

shigaraki creeps out of the forest and he delivers a harsh smack to the horse's haunches, sending it galloping away. within a second later a hand is reaching through katsuki's chest, mocking laugh against his ear.

"how heroic. i'll make sure you die slow, barbarian."

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die.

that was until he lay on the edge of the forest floor, lifeblood leaking from the gaping hole in the center of the chest. but he wasn't anguished: because he died for you, the only person who he would ever love.

okkotsuus 24

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keigosdear · 5 months ago

Text

{bad idea... right? - kuroo t.}

yes I know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?//…I just tripped and fell into his bed.

kuroo x fem!reader smut. exes to lovers. 18+ MDNI please.

in which you and your ex "reconnect" after almost half a year apart, but with so many unresolved feelings, it'll either end up being the best or worst idea you've ever had.

warnings: fem!reader, no physical description (aside from specific genitalia ofc). university setting. smut, mentions of alcohol/getting drunk but no drunk sex, lots of feelings/kinda mutual pining. praise kink, a little bit of voice kink, very brief jealous reader, cunnilingus, body worship, teasing, lots of pet names in lieu of y/n, soft dom!kuroo and sub!reader, very. very. soft, kinda emotional sex, aftercare and fluff towards the end. porn with a bit of plot/build up. this fic is my baby.

a trope I never thought I'd write plus a genre I've never written before? apparently so. it's my first time writing smut, so constructive criticism is welcomed, being rude is not. can you believe I started this over the summer ‘23 and I'm only posting it now?

and lmk if I need to add anything else to the warnings :)

divider credit to: @/cafekitsune

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this truly had the potential to be one of your worst ideas yet.

you weren't even going to be at this damn party to begin with, but your friend finally convinced you to go with her after a week of wearing you down.

"it'll be fun, c'mon!" she begged.

the only reason you didn't want to go was because you were finally done with your first semester of classes and wanted to wind down in peace, not at a crowded house party filled with loud music and sweaty drunk university students.

but of course you relented when she pulled out the puppy dog eyes and played the "but we haven't hung out in months, I miss you!" card.

so there you were by the snacks and refreshments table, dressed up and nursing a drink, talking and laughing with your friends. truthfully, you were having a better time than you thought you would and figured that you had almost a month before classes started back up again to relax.

"soooo? has anyone caught your eye yet?" multiple faces focused their attention on you.

you knew part of the reason your friend had insisted on you going with her was to help you meet someone. she'd never admit it, but it was pretty obvious with the way she was pointing out people left and right, making note of how attractive they were. at one point she had even "accidentally" pushed you into one of her targets, which had made for some very awkward small-talk on your end with someone you had zero interest in and some giggling from her.

it's not that you were opposed to the idea of finding someone, but in all honesty, no one had caught your eye. recently you had gotten out of a long long term relationship, and starting over after that just seemed so... unappealing to you.

it also seemed unfair to start anything new when you were very much not over him. breaking up in the middle of the semester had made it really easy for you to push down any emotions and throw yourself into your studies. but it didn't change the fact that you missed him. even now, the party acted as a good distraction for you.

or so you thought.

you were about to respond when your phone buzzed. you looked down and your heart leapt into your throat when you saw the contact name.

it felt strange seeing it as "kuroo" rather than some version of his given name or a pet name. once you hit the one minute mark of just staring at the text notification in shock, your friend peeked over your shoulder and gasped a little.

"you didn't block him?!"

you snatched your phone out of her hand after she stole it to show your group of friends.

"why would I? it's not like we hate each other."

and it was true- you both ended amicably (though very reluctantly). you only ever wanted the best for each other, and while it was sad, you realized that at this point in your lives with how busy you both were, you weren't able to offer that anymore.

you’d rather this than end things resenting each other.

still, it was a hard pill to swallow, so for now you were just holding it on your tongue, letting the bitter taste of the coating settle instead.

she frowned. "well yeah, but-"

you cut her off before she could bring up the very emotions you were ignoring in that moment and shoved your phone back in your pocket. "c'mon, let's go dance!"

later, though, when you excused yourself to the bathroom, the first thing you did was down your second drink and read the text.

hey.

do you want to come over?

you stared at the messages for another minute, reading and re-reading them over and over again before sighing. being with him for years meant you knew him like the back of your hand, and he wasn't one for casual hook ups or one night stands. you hadn't even heard from him in a few months- this was the first bit of contact you'd had with him since you cleaned out your drawer of clothes at his place.

which meant he was either drunk and missing you or someone was playing a prank and you'd just end up a fool.

seriously weighing the options in front of you, trying not to let your emotions overpower your decision making, you attempted to think about the long term consequences of going over.

no matter how you spun it, it sounded like a bad idea. even if he did send the texts, there was no guarantee he wanted anything out of it.

but you were too tipsy for logic at that point in the night, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were in need of some excitement.

yeah.

I'll send my new address.

wait, he moved?

despite being together for so long, the two of you never ended up living together, opting for dorms and student houses with friends. still, you did spend a lot of time at his old place, and before the breakup you had even talked about the possibility of moving in together after the current school year was done.

you didn't linger on the sour feelings that brought up and instead decided to let your friends know you were leaving. when they asked where you were going, you spun some lie about not feeling well and wanting to head home before you got worse. you didn't really care if they believed you or not.

checking the address he had sent you once more, you made your way out of the house and were pleasantly surprised to realize it wasn't that far of a walk, especially since you were wearing uncomfortable party shoes.

you sipped on the bottle of water you swiped form the refreshment table and tried to sober up a bit more before seeing him. you weren't a hundred percent sure what would happen once you got there, but it was a good idea to be prepared for anything.

eventually you made it up to his apartment, which was in another student housing building off campus, bigger than his old place, and took a moment to compose yourself.

there was still time to turn back and make an excuse for why you bailed.

there was still time to think it through.

there was still time to save yourself from the possibility of more pain.

you took a deep breath and knocked on the door anyway.

not even five seconds later, the door was opening and you were face to face with your ex boyfriend.

you took him in for the first time in months- really took him in. sure, you'd seen his instagram posts since breaking up, but you could only zoom in so far on those. and fine, maybe your friends had tried to set you up with people they had deemed "much hotter", but you never saw the appeal. you couldn't even remember any of their faces in that moment, because kuroo was right there.

his hair was the same as always, slightly messier than usual, exactly how it looked whenever he (or you) would run his hands through it on a particularly stressful day.

had he been stressed about the text? did he regret it?

he was dressed somewhat casually, in a dark red shirt you recognized as part of a birthday gift you gave him one year (you had always liked the colour red on him). he was wearing black sweatpants and his socks were mismatched.

everything about him was familiar, and you hated the way a feeling of ease settled over you when he finished his own analysis of you and gave a boyish, almost giddy grin. "hi."

his voice was warm and gave you butterflies. there was an undertone of excitement in his greeting and it quelled your worries about him regretting the texts.

you decided to smile back, though somewhat shyly (which you inwardly scolded yourself for), and spoke up. "hi."

he didn't let the silence that followed settle into awkwardness. he opened the door a bit wider, and welcomed you in. ever the gentleman, he took your coat and and helped you balance as you took your shoes off. you tried to ignore how warm and gentle his touch was, how it made you immediately crave more.

you made your way into the living room and took everything in. there were empty cans and shot glasses littered across the room, mostly concentrated on the coffee table. you thought you heard him swear under his breath when he looked at the mess as well.

"did you have a party?" you asked, now close enough to smell a bit of alcohol on him.

he shook his head and looked a bit embarrassed. "ah, no..." he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and sighed. "my roommates went out with some friends tonight and decided to pre-game here. I went back to my room before they left because I didn't feel like drinking too much and assumed they'd clean up a bit..."

you nodded in understanding. "wishful thinking, huh?"

he chuckled. "yeah, guess so," he said, then gestured to an empty spot on the couch. "sit, I'll just get some of this out of the way quickly."

"oh, I can help-" you tried to offer but he waved you off.

"don't worry about it. I'm the one who invited you into a sloppy apartment, you shouldn't have to clean up a mess that isn't yours."

you snorted and watched as he shoved a ton of cans into the decorative waste bin by the sofa and took some glasses to the sink in the kitchen. "says the one who's cleaning up a mess that isn't his."

you heard him laugh at your words and the butterflies erupted in your stomach again. you hadn't realized how much you missed that sound. suddenly your mind wandered back to the reason behind his invitation. you'd be alone tonight?

once he returned from the kitchen and sat down next to you, you talked for a bit. he caught you up on the moving situation (him and a few friends found an opening for the second semester, so they decided to jump on it and try to stay until grad, hopefully. he made a joke about trying to make friends with the landlord). you listened closely, trying not to make it obvious you were hanging off his every word.

when he was done, you caught him up on your life and how you were at a party when he texted. he apologized for interrupting and you told him a little too fast not to be, which he seemed pleased with.

after a while, he asked if you wanted to watch a movie. you agreed, though you were starting to get impatient. you knew he wasn't the type of guy to ever expect anything from anyone, but the curiosity was eating you alive. you couldn't help but finally ask him about it halfway through the movie.

"hey... why did you invite me tonight?"

he didn't seem surprised by your question, which told you he was probably expecting it. (it was silly of you to think he couldn't tell when something was on your mind after years together and only months apart.)

he took a deep breath in and looked down at his lap. while he didn't look outwardly nervous, you knew him well enough to know what his tells were. he picked at a thread on his pants, trying to compose himself before dropping the bomb.

"because I missed you." he looked you in the eye and then continued. "a lot. and you can take that however you'd like. I'll let you decide."

you blinked at him. he'd let you decide? the way he said it implied that he missed you, missed you. not just missed having you in his life, not just as a friend- he missed you.

you would be nothing but a liar if you said you hadn't missed him too. and you knew that the feeling of security and familiarity you experienced earlier wasn't just nostalgia or your own unresolved feelings. if that were the case, you wouldn't be feeling this comfortable on the couch with him. you wouldn't be able to pretend things were normal between you as easily as you had been all night.

kuroo still very much felt like home, and you didn't want to let him go ever again. there was only one way for you to take his declaration.

"can I..." you looked into his eyes and tried not to drown in them. "can I kiss you?"

he looked relieved at your words and eagerly nodded. "please."

you leaned forward and feverishly crashed your lips against his as soon as the word left his mouth. he raised one hand to cup your cheek and pulled you closer to him by your thigh with the other, not once breaking away from you.

soon you were straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, quiet noises releasing into the air around you both. you moved a hand up the back of his neck, into his hair, and he groaned slightly into your mouth.

you giggled into the kiss, happy to see you still knew what got him going.

as if either of you could forget- it was muscle memory at that point. just like you'd never forget how to ride a bike, you'd never forget how to make the other feel good.

eventually you both had to pull away and fill your lungs again, but you were close enough that your foreheads touched and your breaths mixed.

it was quiet aside from some light panting, so you decided to break that silence with a confession of your own. "I missed you too, tetsurou. so much."

now, you weren't sure if it was what you said or how you said it, but as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt something hard pressing against the area between your legs and gasped a little.

your eyes opened and you pulled your face away just enough to look at him properly. your eyes met his and his face was tinged pink. "I- I'm sorry... we don't... if you don't want to..." he mumbled, not sure how to gage your reaction to this sudden development.

you kissed him again, softer this time to reassure him, and smiled a bit when you pulled away. "I want to, tetsu."

he let out a relieved sigh and smiled at you in turn, then glanced over at the door. "I have no idea when they'll be back... do you want to continue this in my room?" his eyes slowly and hopefully made their way back to yours.

you nodded and squealed a bit when he suddenly scooped you up in his arms, smile growing wider as he made his way to his bedroom.

and that’s how you got here- cutting to when he gently sets you down on the bed, and you scoot back a bit to lay down comfortably. quickly following, his body covers yours and he begins kissing you again.

your arms instinctively move, one wrapping around his broad shoulders, the other cupping his cheek as you move your lips against his. his own hands, now free due to the fact that he’s propped up on one of his forearms, caress your waist and the the top of your head respectively.

after a few minutes of him focusing on your lips, he starts making his way down your neck. they’re feather light kisses at first to make you giggle, but eventually he finds the sensitive spot he always loved to mark up and the sweet sounds turn into shallow, shuddery breaths.

you whine as soon as he starts sucking on it and you bring your hand up from his cheek to his hair. "mmn... tetsu..."

he pulls away just enough so that you can still feel his lips against your flesh as he trails them up your neck to hover just over your ear. "you have no idea," he breathes out, voice low and far more erotic than you think he intended, "how much I've missed this."

you shudder and turn your face away at the tingly sensation, but the hand on your waist darts up to tilt your chin back in his direction. one thing you always appreciated about kuroo was how tenderly he handled you, no matter the tone of your late night endeavors. he was always gentle with you- not in a way that made you feel fragile, but rather in a way that told you he truly cared for you, treasured you, adored you.

the idea that this is still the case turns you on even more and makes your brain go a bit fuzzy.

when your eyes met his once more, you could see that adoration pooling in them. “look at me, sweetheart.”

you nodd slightly in his firm, yet still very soft grasp and keep your eyes trained on his. you could feel yourself getting wet as they trail over your face, and you swear your entire body feels warm as he gives you a rare type of smile only reserved for times like these.

he leans in to kiss you again and his hand moves from your face to toy with the lower hem of your dress. “you look absolutely gorgeous in this, baby, but do you think can we take it off?” he’s still speaking in the low, sultry tone that always drives you wild- you’re certain that you’d do anything he asked of you with that voice.

you sit up a little and move to unzip the dress, but he takes your hands and gives you a look. “ah ah- let me, pretty girl, you don’t have to move a muscle.”

it’s almost jarring how easily you both fall back into it. as soon as your dress is off, his shirt follows and he’s back to hovering over you. it really feels as though no time has passed since your last time with him.

just more proof that this is right.

he wastes no time in ridding you of your bra and himself of his shirt before pushing you back down onto the bed.

the room is once again filled with sounds of soft moans and gasps as he kisses your chest and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. he alternates between swirling his tongue around it and sucking. kuroo didn’t let your other breast go unattended for long, though, as he begins teasing the hardened bud with his fingers.

“aah, tetsu… please…” you gasped out.

the man on top of you chuckles, and in between switching sides he looks at you from under his eyelashes. “still so sensitive, hm? it’s cute.”

you resist the urge to hide your face and instead opt for throwing your head back when he suddenly sucks on the other nipple.

heat continues to build inside of you until he eventually he trails his kisses down the valley of your breasts, across your ribcage and down to your tummy. he spends a little extra time there, and you have to gently tug on his hair and whine about him taking too long for him to break away from your skin.

“let me worship you, angel. missed your body so much.” his voice is barely audible, the words murmured as though he was in a trance. you feel your pussy clench around nothing at his confession and bite back a whimper.

his lips curl upwards while pressed against your stomach and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. “keep your eyes on me, baby. don’t ever want to be away from you again,” he commands.

he rests his chin on your pubic bone and traces the elastic band of your panties with two familiar fingers. “you wore my favourite.”

heat rushes to your face and you do turn away this time, but he makes a disapproving noise you’re all too familiar with. “sweetheart, what did I just tell you?”

you bite your lip and force your eyes back to his.

he rewards you with a tender kiss to your belly and a “there’s a good girl, knew she was in there…” before he pulls your panties off.

you grow nervous, though you know you don’t need to be with him, and close your legs. his eyes soften significantly at the action. you're not sure why exactly the nerves get to you now of all times, especially considering how much you like his stricter side, but they do and he sees it.

he drops the strict act and rubs reassuring circles to your inner thigh. you've always preferred your softer sessions, anyway. “hey, it’s alright. I’m gonna take good care of you… missed my girl so much, just want to make you feel good, okay? we’ll save that for another time. it’s just you and me now, baby.”

you nod and a wave of calm washes over you at the reassurance. you let him pry your legs apart and gasp as he dives in.

he starts with wet kisses working their way up your thighs, to your slit and then up to your clit before he takes the bud into his mouth and sucks on it. you let out a soft moan and buck your hips into his face.

"mmn," he pulls away for a second and holds your hips down. "don't thrash, princess, just let me do all the work."

and he does. once he really gets into the groove of eating you out, you're a mess on his bed- legs shaking over his shoulders, cunt clenching around his tongue and whimpering out little thank you's when he makes you cum for the first time that night.

but he doesn't stop there. "tastes so good, baby, need more," he says in between licking your juices from your folds. "c’mon, just one more. you can do it," he picks up the pace again, and before you know it you're begging for more, too.

"tetsu- ah~!" you moan when he exchanges licking for sucking on your still sensitive clit again. you feel like you're on fire as he draws you closer and closer to reaching your second high.

you tangle your hands in his hair and he groans, sending vibrations throughout your core. you cry out and arch off the bed, spilling into his mouth.

this time when he pulls away, he slithers back up your body and kisses you. "see how good you taste, baby? best in the world, haven't I always told you that?"

your stomach twists from the praise and you turn your head to the side bashfully, trying to stabilize your breathing. he holds himself up above you and strokes your cheek with his knuckles, watching you fondly. it does nothing but make you more dizzy with affection.

when you've calmed down enough, he whispers "do you still want to-"

"yes." you cut him off and he chuckles.

"okay baby," he crawls off of you and reaches for his nightstand. he opens the drawer and-

your stomach sinks when you see an open box of condoms. the thought of him being with other girls makes you feel green with envy which you suppose isn’t fair considering you’ve been broken up for months, but you’re still a little fuzzy and too high on your own emotions right now to care.

he looks between you and the box and immediately catches on when an unexpected tear falls from your eye.

“oh, baby no-“ he takes one from the box and quickly returns to your side. “I haven’t been using these,” he cups your face and strokes his thumb under your eye.

“you haven’t?” you sniffle and he shakes his head right away.

you pout. “but then-”

kuroo cuts you off with a roll of his eyes. “one of my roommates got them for me as a joke for my birthday. I only opened them because he kept asking to borrow them.”

you digest his words and slowly look up at him. he’s already looking at you and you can’t keep your eyes from watering some more. the thought of him being intimate with someone new when you’ve spent the past few months rejecting everyone your friends forced your way.

“I haven’t even looked at anyone else since we broke up,” he murmurs against your hairline. “missed you too much.”

you nod, finding no traces of dishonesty on his features. “I haven’t been with anyone either… I wasn’t over you. I didn’t want to be,” you admit, voice soft.

he smiles and presses kisses from your scalp down to your cheeks. “such a sweet girl I have, hm? how about you help me out here?”

he tugs off his sweats and your attention is drawn to the tent his boxers. you bite your lip and reach for the band but he takes your hand and places the condom on your palm.

you blink up at him, confused. “you don’t want me to-“

he shakes his head and tugs his boxers down. his cock springs free and you gasp a little at the sight of his tip- red and smeared with pre-cum.

“no, angel, I need to be inside of you. just help me put it on.”

you make quick work of tearing the wrapper off and rolling the condom over his length. he groans at the feeling of your knuckles grazing his skin, but as soon as you pull away he’s flipping you on your back and lining himself up against your entrance.

he knocks his forehead against yours. “ready, baby?”

you nod and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. he leans down for a kiss and slowly pushes into you as your lips connect.

you whine a little at the stretch and he pauses everything. “you’re okay,” he reassures you, giving you time to adjust.

you nod when you feel ready for him to keep going and he bottoms out with a strangled moan. “you’re unreal, you know that?”

his praise pulls a giggle from your throat but it quickly turns into a breathy sigh when he starts moving.

he starts off slow, but soon enough you’re both lost in the moment and his pace picks up. within the next few minutes, his room is filled with sounds of pleasure and sweet words exchanged between lovers.

“you’re perfect,” he says, angling his lips closer to your ear. his hips stutter when you clamp around him at his words.

his thrusts reach deep enough to get you crying out for him. “tetsu, faster! please!”

“ah- there’s a good girl, love hearing you beg for more.” he nibbles the spot just below your ear, soothing it with his tongue.

“I love you,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders.

kuroo groans at the sensation and goes a bit harder. “you needed this just as bad as I did, hm? it’s okay, I’ve got you now, pretty girl. just relax.”

you hide your face in his neck and try to stifle your moans, but he doesn’t appreciate that one bit. “stop that, let me hear you,” he commands and you immediately pull your head back.

he grins down at you and kisses your nose. “sound so pretty when you’re falling apart on my cock, you know better than to hide those noises from me.”

you nod and find yourself unable to look away from his face, as if you were in a trance. he’s absolutely gorgeous on top of you- why would you want to look away?

“you close, baby?” he asks after your walls tighten even more.

“mmhm,” you whimper and lean up for a kiss.

“me too,” he whispers and tugs one of your hands away from his shoulder. he intertwines your fingers and presses is above your head against the pillow. “needed this just as badly as I did, hm? it’s okay, I’ve got you, baby.”

doing so good for me.

you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

you feel so fucking good, princess.

all of his praise sent shockwaves throughout your body and soon enough you’re tipping over the edge. your back is arched, head thrown back and a loud cry of his name is drawn from you as you cum for the second time.

he follows soon after and you feel his whole body shudder when he spills into his condom.

your breaths mix together as you both come down from your highs. it’s quiet for a few moments before he carefully pulls out and disposes of the soiled contraceptive in the trash next to his bed. he rolls back into bed, facing you.

he strokes your cheek with his knuckles and smiles at you when you open your eyes and turn to face him as well. “hi pretty girl, you okay?”

you take a deep breath and curl into his chest. you still feel slightly too light and any thoughts not related to him are muddled. you’re overcome with an intense wave of affection for him.

he must notice, because when you manage to peek up at him again, he snorts. “yeah, I don’t know what I was expecting.”

he knows better than to try and leave the bed right away (memories of you whining and clinging to him when he did attempt it early on in your relationship flash through his mind and he smiles), so instead he wraps his arms around you and presses kisses to your hairline.

you savour the familiar feeling of being wrapped in his arms and nuzzle into his bare chest. the most comfortable feeling in the world.

eventually he does get up to grab a damp cloth and some water, and he informs you that you can use his bathroom for whatever you need.

you’re both following the same routine you had when you were together as if you hadn’t broken up at all.

now that you’ve regained some clarity, you start to worry about what exactly that means.

you’ve both admitted to missing each other like crazy, but you assume you’ll need to have a serious conversation with kuroo about whether or not you should get back together.

you ponder over this on his bed for a bit longer before he interrupts your thoughts. “we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he starts. “we can talk about it tomorrow morning if you would prefer, but…”

he pauses like he’s not sure if he should continue. you nod encouragingly, curious as to where this is going (thought you think you know). “but I meant absolutely everything I said tonight. um, before and while we were… uh. busy.”

you giggle a little at his shy demeanour before considering the weight of his words. “we could talk about it tomorrow morning, but I think we both already know what we want from this right?”

he doesn’t need to nod, but he does anyway. “I definitely have an answer already.”

you knock your forehead against his. “so… are we officially back together then?”

he offers you the widest grin he’s thrown your way all night. “I think we are, sweetheart. We’ll make it work this time, I promise.”

“I promise,” you repeat.

the rest of the night is spent cuddling under covers, sharing kisses and secrets you’ve missed out on sharing these past few months.

“I love you,” you say, before you finally drift off for the night.

you don’t hear him, but he’s quick to return the sentiment. “I love you too.”

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

BONUS:

the following morning, you wake up to your phone ringing. you groan when you see it’s your friend and realize you never texted her back last night to tell her you’re okay.

you look over at kuroo, still sound asleep beside you, and answer as quietly as possible. “hello?”

“oh thank goodness you’re alright, why weren’t you picking up? we all called you a million times!”

you check and see a ton of missed calls from more of your friends who saw you leave the party last night. “I’m sorry, I was asleep,” you say sincerely, only twisting the truth a little bit.

you feel slightly bad about it, you mentally promise her to tell her everything later.

before she can respond, your boyfriend sits up (when did he even wake up?) and says into the phone, “sorry, it’s my fault. but I promise I took good care of her,” he smirks at you.

you flinch when she shrieks into your ear. “YOU WERE WITH KUROO?!”

glaring at him, he snickers and takes the phone from you. “she’ll call you back later, we’re still catching up.”

“no, wait-“ he hangs up the phone and tosses it onto his sheets.

you pout at him. “tetsu, c’mon.”

he kisses your cheek. “I really didn’t meant for it to come off as rude, I swear. I just wanted a relaxing morning with you before you have to leave.”

you sigh and fall back into the soft comfort of his pillows. “it’s okay,” you say. “I really didn’t feel like giving her the rundown first thing in the morning, anyway. you really tired me out last night,” you peer up at him.

he laughs. “oh really? we’ve gotta build up your stamina again, pretty girl. I wasn’t lying-“ he crawls over and hovers a few inches above you. “we still have a lot of catching up to do.”

you mentally pat yourself on the back for answering his texts. definitely not your worst idea.

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

I swear I’ll get better at writing smut, folks 🫡

but for my first time writing it, I don’t think it’s horrible. if the ending feels a bit rushed, it’s because I’ve literally had this sitting in my drafts since miss olivia rodrigo released the music video for this song last august and I wanted it out 🙃.

tagging @nyctophilicroses bc I remember you commented on the original post I made asking abt exes to lovers with kuroo 🥹

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo tetsurou x reader smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader

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blingblong55 · 1 year ago

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This love - Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

Oh, as a request idea what would be about Makarov and wife! reader for whom he'd burn the world and she got injured during a fight with an opposing tean having him go rampant at everyone until he holds her again? With a fluffy ending mayhaps?

(also I absolutely loved The Great War 💕) --- F!Reader, fluff, established!relationship, in love with the villain, wife!reader, husband!Makarov, protective!husband --- A/N: I always said, Makarov embodies 'I'll burn the world for you, for what they did to you.' I will never back down from that. Also, I'm glad you liked The Great War :)

Red. That is all he saw, how dare they hurt his wife! No one and he means no one can ever in their fucking miserable lives touch you, never and that is a threat. He hated them, for all they are worth, Kasper Team is a dead organisation. Did he need their blood? Yes, his wife, his darling wife got hurt and oh will they pay for what they did. You walk into the room, his gaze softens, his fist opens and he smiles. How can the world be so cruel to him? Making him the evil man and then giving him a pretty lady like you and making him turn into the softest of men.

"My love," he speaks to you, nods the man off so he can be alone with you and opens his arms. "Don't hurt them," you speak and he looks at you, cupping your face and shaking his head. "I must. No one can touch you, sometimes I feel as if I don't deserve the privilege of touching you. You are an angel maybe a little bit of a devil but you…oh, you are my angel and no one should touch or hurt you," his lips meet your forehead. This is always the same discussion, he is so cruel, so evil, so vile primarily if you were hurt. And you always found yourself not wanting him to stop, it is a dangerous form of devotion that you two have. Something neither of you want to stop, to never lose. For you, he would tear the world apart, he would hold you in his warm arms as you two watch with glee as the world falls apart.

For you, he would drench himself in blood, only to have you kiss him, wipe the blood off and still see him as the man of your fantasies. Call it wicked call it anything you please, but his love, oh his loving heart is dangerous and fun. It is the kind of love no man should play with. Not even the evil of monsters dared to touch that dark corner but you did and that evolved into something so beautifully treacherous. He'll tell you anything if you only ask it of him. It's trust, truthfulness, devotion, lust, poison and an anecdote found between lips, warm hugs, sex, and all else those eyes of yours and his fail to say when they look at the other.

To him, having you was brighter than the sun in that blue sky. Your caress was a warm blanket on a snowy day. A room full of bloodthirsty soldiers could go silent when you walked in and into his arms. No one dared question you, never and he would make sure of that. Your kiss, possessing him, taking control of his soul and making it your slave. His heart, that long has been proven to belong to you, to have your name carved in it the second he was born. Stars aligned or not, he was yours, your fool, soldier, lover and friend. He is the darkness, the one you found comfort in.

He cares for you. That's why, he sent his men to hunt down all those responsible for your injury. "Come here, let me hold you," he walks to his chair, sitting down and making you sit on his lap. His arms held you close to him like he needed to have his skin and yours mixed together. It's perfect, you're perfect. He looks at the plans for how he will end that organisation and then smiles, kisses your neck and hums as he nuzzles his face to your body. He isn't like anyone, for if he was, Shakespeare would have done a play about him and it would be that in this case, the villain wins. You drink your poison for him and he does the same for you. Never one without the other. He made sure of that.

They say, that what feeds wars is hate, for him, this new war is revenge. You turn to him, wondering what is going on in his head. And as if he was listening to your thoughts he smiles, "You. I'm thinking of you, how lucky I am…how lucky I got to have a wonderful soul, my wife, my lovely R/N to love me back." His thumb touches your bottom lip. He was in a trance, one you knew well. In his mind, Vladimir always thought of when he met you, how he fell in love with you and how his cold heart started to get warm again. Your eyes, oh that sweet stare that made him into the poem reader he has become. So, when he looks deep into your eyes, he cups your face with both of his hands and begins to recite a poem for you.

O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune.

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi’ the sun; I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve! And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my luve, Though it were ten thousand mile. (A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns)

Your eyes are teary and beautiful. "Don't doubt for a second I will hesitate to hurt the man who hurt you," he whispers and kisses you once more. Like a precious cascade, his love pours into your lips. No one knew but behind closed doors, in safe arms and on a reading nook, he held you close, a book in his hands as he read to you poems or stories. Your hands by his thighs as the autumn skies cast your shadows. Love, yeah….this is perfect, this love is the embodiment of calm love.

A/N: so...now in my head, it's canon this man reads poetry

Join my tag list

Tags:

@goldenmclaren @alhaizen @thefragmented @liyanahelena @queen-ilmaree @kaska127 @arialikestea @aethelwyneleigh27 @selarus @cdej6 @imasimpsowhat06 @thefictionalgemini @baldwinhearts @lemonnoodles

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illumnis · 5 months ago

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finish line. — you and alhaitham are not friends, far from it. you're not exactly lovers either; so why does he decide to take ten steps back and settle for aquaintances?

pairing: alhaitham x gn!reader

warnings: kinda toxic? idk to each and their own, he's just really emotionally ignorant, mentions of non-sexual nudity, angst, unedited

note: look what i'm back with (i am so sorry this is bad,,, i haven't written in AGES), also happy summer i am officially not a highschooler anymore!

alhaitham is efficient. he decides what is considered more work than necessary and greatly succeeds with the basic necessities. this also means that alhaitham has every intention to finish what he starts and only starts what he knows he can finish.

alhaitham also holds your hand so you can fall asleep at night despite the nightmares that plague your imagination, but he leaves before you can wake up. alhaitham helps you scrub away the finely ground sand off of your sweaty body after a research project done on the dunes residing in the sumerian desert, even allowing you to do the same to him, but he always rejects your offer to cook him dinner afterwards in celebration of the grueling excursion. alhaitham whispers how you're devastatingly beautiful as he washes your hair without care if you hear him or not, but he can't bring himself to help you dry it.

for once in his life, alhaitham has started something he can't bring himself to finish.

he wonders why you're bitter all of a sudden. how you can't bring yourself to look at him in the eyes anymore, how you walk a step behind him instead of a linked pace, how you don't let him touch your hair anymore, how you don't invite him over or ask if you can tag along on his journeys to the desert.

you're avoiding him and he blames his irritation on the fact that friends aren't supposed to brush each other off.

you're not entirely sure when the two of you started treading the line between acceptable and having alhaitham push you away, but the unspoken agreement was that this was all it was going to be. you're not like alhaitham. often times, you walk the world on your terms, which must be why you now found yourself on the opposing side of the agreement.

who can blame you? he's seen you, flesh and bone. under your clothes and to your heart. he's seen you, your rampant imagination, both the good and the bad parts. he's seen you most vulnerable, stating that even this side of you is worth adoring.

the waiting game was a exhausting one, even before, you knew he'd be the last person to bring your... situation with him up; which is why you settle for slowly stretching the strings of your relationship until they snap, and you never have to look back.

or that was at least the idea until you were crying behind the akademiya over an offhanded comment that your least favourite professor had made about you. he was there, somehow he always is, and he was holding you. his warmth was the same as it had been since you had last invited him over, which only made you cry more. had your absence not frosted his heart over at least a little?

by the time you're done crying, you are no longer in his arms and he looks at you with a mixture of hurt and comfort. something vengeful in you is satisfied that you have given him a taste of how he leaves you.

"i'll always be here when you need me, yn, regardless of if you choose to stop being acquainted with me or not."

somehow, his reassuring words do the opposite and the vengeful spirit in you grows.

"then why can't you let me need you all the time? what's stopping you from letting us rely on each other? it's not like you act like we don't already."

this seals his lips and a subtle frown paints itself over his them and something inside you aches. you have always prided yourself in being able to bring the most emotion out of him that anyone has in years. now, you are stuck with pitiful expressions; frowns nonetheless.

it's a heavy silence that takes over the atmosphere before you've decided that whether you hear his answer or not, you'll still hear your glass heart shatter. so you move to get up.

"i can't take the risk. not yet." it flows out of his mouth so naturally. almost like he's been waiting for your confrontation.

"risk? what risk, alhaitham? look at what you've started, you've already taken it," you're fuming, a new level of self-loathing filling your being at the idea of you being so naive to believe that someone who can't even call you a friend could be full of love, "either finish what you've started, or destroy it before you lose yourself in it."

alhaitham's silence elicits a scoff from your lips and you're grateful you had shaken yourself out of his touch earlier, or else you'd find yourself back at square one; forgiving him and asking once more if he'd let you make him dinner hoping his answer would be different.

you'll help him out one last time, you guess. walking away as he doesn’t spare you a glance, stuck in the position that was meant to comfort you, only for it to end whatever mess he had started.

navi. mlist.

#theatre: now playing! 🎭#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham angst #al haitham x reader #al haitham imagines #al haitham angst

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hford0311 · 1 month ago

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She never looked at me that way before

Summary: From the first time you met Bucky as a 7-year-old, things got ugly quick, which established a decade-long hatred for your male neighbor who unfortunately was also your brother's best friend. Then, one night began to change your opinions of Bucky.

Tags: 1930/40s timeline. Fem!reader x Bucky Barnes. Childhood enemies to lovers.

Being Steve's younger sister wasn't the easiest thing imaginable. "But Mama!" You cried as you watched the other children in the neighborhood play. "Y/n, I said no." You huffed and plopped yourself on the floor in front of the window. "Can't do nothin' 'round here." You angrily mumbled. "Missy, you keep that attitude up, I'll find you something to complain about." Your mother called. You rolled your eyes out the window. At the ripe age of seven, you knew the unfairness whenever you looked at your brother. You were aware of the problems, but they only bothered you at times like this. However, they happened more often than not now that you were in a new neighborhood with new kids.

A knock at the door minutes led you to race to it and open it. Your mother sighed and whispered, "I don't know what I'm going to do with you," before she walked over to the open door. "You must be Mrs. Rodgers," the woman at the door smiled with two children at her sides, "I'm Mrs. Barnes and these are my children, James and Rebecca." "Bucky, Mama," the boy groaned. The mother lightly chuckled, "Sorry, Bucky, my troublesome son." Sarah smiled back the mother. "Well, you met my troublesome, Y/n. Let me go fetch her brother," she went and grabbed Steve from the bedroom.

"Would you be opposed to them playing outside while we get to know each other?" Mrs. Barnes questioned. Sarah hesitated, fearing Steve would have an asthma attack or worse. "I promise my children know the rules of playing outdoors. Plus, they can introduce them to the others. Be good for them to have friends before school starts." Mrs. Barnes persuaded her. "Oh, Mama, please!" You and your brother begged. Sarah sighed, "Alright, but you and your brother have to look after each other." You and Steve cheered before following the other children outside.

Sarah anxiously watch her children play with the others in the alley from the window. It felt a little too fitting that her children were the same age of the Barnes children. "I'm sure they'll be fine, Sarah." Mrs. Barnes mentioned. The two women bonded, soon learning about each others' past and present. Meanwhile, you decided you wanted to play stickball with some of the boys. However, it wasn't that easy. Somehow, it ended with you and Bucky screaming in each others' faces. Despite the two year difference, you still stood nose to nose with the boy when you were on your toes. "If you weren't a girl, I'd hit ya!" Bucky yelled.

Wham! Children swarmed the scene. "I wonder-oh my goodness!" Mrs. Barnes glanced out the window to witness what was happening. She quickly ran down to the alley with Sarah not far behind. "Out of my way!" Mrs. Barnes screamed and broke apart the group of children to reveal her eldest with a bloody nose. Sarah separated you from the group. You were panting and hid your bloody hand behind your back. "What happened!" "She's crazy!" Bucky yelled as an answer. "He wouldn't let me play because I'm a girl!" You yelled back. "Y/n! You do not hit!" Sarah scolded. "But-" "No buts." She huffed and grabbed your wrist, trying to avoid getting blood on her before dragging you up to the apartment. That moment defined your hatred towards Bucky Barnes.

Soon after the initial fight and greeting, the boy could never stop coming by to hang out with Steve, leaving you to steam in irritation. However, Rebecca was able to help with the situation a lot of the time. You two loved to gossip and make fun of Bucky. Funny how the two siblings were totally different. Sarah and Winnifred were deeply grateful for the separation of the two pairs that allowed there to be peace in the two apartments.

***

Six years it has been and the hatred did not cease. Perhaps, it grew-- or at least the maturity level of it increased-- which isn't much to say.

"Bucky Barnes, won't you just leave me alone!" You yelled at him when he followed you back from school. At thirteen, you didn't need a babysitter to walk you back to the apartment after the bus ride from school. His fifteen year old self mocked you from behind your back. "Such a jerk!" The words left your mouth like venom. The one time Rebecca and Steve were both sick, he decided to pester you the most, and both of your mothers wanted him to make sure you got home safe from school. "It's not like I want to," Bucky grumbled. "God, won't you go do something with Steve and get the hell away from me?" You growled. Bucky pressed you up against one of the brick buildings. His blue eyes starring into your soul, wanting to send it deep into the pits of hell. "Y/n, if I had that option, I would. Now, just stop complaining and get home." His height was beginning to tower yours. "Fine," you huffed and ducked under his arm to continue on your route. Somehow, your brother was best friends with the most annoying boy in the neighborhood, and no one else hated it as much as you did. Your mother grew to adore him as her own son. It basically led to him never leaving your apartment or dining table, which led to Barnes's home to become an escape for you. The hallway is a no man's land that neither of you were caught in besides entering and exiting the two apartments.

At age 17, you sighed as you got off the bus from coming home from grabbing medicine and a few other grocery items for your sickly brother. The sporadic lit street light led your way home. You looked down at your clacking shoes, counting the steps you made to distract yourself from the cold and the thoughts that could enter a young woman's mind while walking alone on the street at night. You counted louder in your head when you heard voices that you didn't want to understand or hear. Be as that might be, hearing more footsteps that were not yours could not make focusing and counting steps easy. Fingertips grazed your bicep, causing you to trip off the sidewalk and land on your hands and knees. The materials in your bag now flung elsewhere You tried scattering up, but when you turned around, you froze in fear at the stranger in front of you. He was starting to walk close to you and saying something before rapid steps and punches were exchanged in a blur of movement.

Then, one of the blurs left and the other came into focus in front of you. The unwelcomed face became a pleasant one. "Bucky!" You breathed an exhale. His strong yet soft hands lifted you up from your stunned state. "Are you okay?" His voice was caring and gentle. "Y-yes," you confirmed, trying to steady yourself on your feet. "C'mon, let's get you home." He started to guide you in the direction. "Steve's medicine, I dropped it." You were a muttering mess in front of him, pointing in the direction of where you fell. "Stay here," His hands on your shoulders, like setting you in place before quickly snatching the med bottle in his coat pocket. "Alright, let's go, I gotcha." Bucky led you home.

"Thank you, Bucky. I-I-" Bucky interrupted you as the pair of you made it to the landing. "You don't need to thank me, Y/n." You simply nodded and then motioned to his coat pocket, "Steve still needs those." Your old nemesis delicately placed them in your palm. "Take care of yourself," he spoke and walked to his apartment.

The energy between the two of you would change after this night. It took about six months for a complete one-eighty change.

Now, the hallway that separated the two apartments would be a no man's land anymore. Quite the opposite, actually. You felt your feet start to tremble when Bucky kissed you at the apartment door. "We can't let anyone know," you whispered as you broke the kiss. "Oh, not a soul," he whispered back and kissed you again. "I mean it, Bucky. Not even my brother." You scolded him. "Never, doll." He confirmed before planting his lips onto yours. "Alright, I should go before someone catches us," Bucky whispered and started to take the twelve feet to his apartment. You quickly followed him and stopped him to exchange another act of affection. "Yes, you should go...it's getting late." He took a step down to be on the same as you. "Go to bed, my Y/n doll," he planted a kiss on your forehead, "dream of me." You blushed, "As long as you dream of me, James." He stroked your cheek and took his final departure. You leaned up against the hallway wall for a moment to calm down before going back into your apartment.

"You're late," Steve mentioned from his chair in the corner by the lamp. Your body jolted as you softly closed the door. "Jesus, Steve," you hissed and pressed your hand to your heart, "do you want to give me a heart attack?" He closed his book and stood from his spot. "Just come home on time. Mom was worried." Guilt rose in you as your brother began to trudge to bed. "Hey Steve," he stopped and turned to you, "don't worry Bucky walked me home." It wasn't a complete lie and the statement lessened the guilt. "Good to hear you're finally getting along." He stated with a smile and goes to bed.

***

You walked out of the apartment door, only for Bucky to swiftly pulled you over his shoulder and in five seconds, his apartment door magically sprung open and shut before Bucky put you down, his lips pressed deeply onto yours, making you pressed up against the door. "Bucky Barnes, what have gotten into you?" You giggled. He pressed his index finger to your lips. "Do you hear that?" You noticed the absence of the other Barnes family members. "What are you talking about?" You whispered in the silence. "We're here all by ourselves, Y/n doll." He grinned and pressed on another kiss. The pair of you stopped, starring into each other eyes without the desire to punch each other.

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storywriter007 · 3 months ago

Note

Thank you for answering my other two requests, I loved them!! I have two more if you are interested!

1) Can you do a Percy Jackson x reader (I'm imagining this occurring on the Argo II) that's basically an enemies to friends to lovers? Where maybe they both just don't really like each other based on the encounters they've had, but then end up going on a small quest off the ship just the two of them and some sort of trauma happens that makes them friends, and then you can decide how they get to lovers from there! Basically just want some angst!

2) This one has a little bit of a trigger warning with suicidal thoughts, so I understand if you don't want to write this one. Percy Jackson x reader (this one I'm also envisioning on the Argo II, but this one could also be just at camp when Percy is like 17) where they are good friends and the reader is struggling mentally but tries to smile for everyone else, but she is sitting alone in the woods at some point holding her knife to her wrist just kind of thinking about it but not sure about it, but then Percy appears to check on her and scares her so the accidentally slips and cuts herself there, and from there basically Percy comfort. Idk if that made sense but basically Percy angst and comfort.

You're amazing!!! 🩷

Friends? - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

author's note: this is request one. thank you for your request :) i kind of had to cut it short bc this was getting too long.

warnings: cursing, mentions of suicide, betrayal, mentions of death, battle scenes, kissing

genre: angst ending in fluff

word count: 1.8k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

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y/n took her seat at the table alongside seven other demi-gods. she noticed percy scowl at her and she rolled her eyes back at him. they'd never gotten along. and chances were, they never would.

her intense hate for the son of the sea god had begun a few summers back during capture the flag. they were on the blue team, and she was assigned to offense with annabeth and percy. suddenly, four members from the red charged at the trio, swords in hand. y/n and percy swung and slashed at two of them until they fled. one of them yanked off annabeth's invisibility cap and decided she was their next victim. the other one came for y/n, hitting her ankle hard. percy was quick to defend annabeth and run away with her.

but he left her. y/n was left to fight two members of the opposing team, who were merciless. they were violent, they were twice her size, and to y/n's dismay, her ankle didn't provide her any support to run away. it was a terrible and cruel beating. the two kept going even when they didn't need to. she could barely see by the end of it. y/n remembered that capture the flag game as "don't trust your teammates."

ever since then, y/n had made her distaste for percy clear. everyone admired his loyalty, until they were on the receiving end of his betrayal.

"we need to find a map." annabeth started.

"it's our key to finding out which way is the safest to go." jason explained. "it's somewhere in the woods, according to what hecate told hazel."

"we're going to have to split up." annabeth continued. "it's a huge forest, and we need to cover ground efficiently."

"i've split you guys up. i don't want to hear any whining." jason said, looking at the group, but his gaze lingered longer on percy and y/n. "annabeth, piper, and i are going eastwards towards the mountains. frank, leo, and hazel are going south to the rest of the woods. percy and y/n will head north, towards the shore."

"why is it 3-3-2?" hazel asked curiously.

"because we need a power balance." annabeth said politely. "it's matched with each person's strengths."

"strengths?" percy chuckled. "i'm the strength. she's going to slow me down."

douchebag, y/n thought.

"i don't want to go with you either, but i'm not bitching about it, am i?" she snapped back.

"you don't have to bitch because going with me does you a favor."

"i'd rather drown."

"lucky you, i can make that happen."

they stared at one-another in an intense fury.

"we'll meet here again in four hours." jason instructed. "and when we do, all eight of us better be here." he said, eyeing percy and y/n.

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it was already eight. and they had to search the stupid northside until midnight. she couldn't even run away if she wanted to.

they continued walking. the sun slowly set as the night sky arose. the woods looked scary at night. tall, thick trees hovered over the two demi-gods as strange creatures and noises came by. after what felt like a long time walking, y/n could hear the sea.

"do you hear it?" she asked him.

"i can feel it." he said, walking quickly.

she trailed behind him as they reached sandy terrain. the sea was dark and terrifying. y/n and percy searched the shore for what felt like another eternity.

suddenly, it got colder and y/n heard a voice. it was a sweet, soft voice.

look at me it whispered.

"do you hear that?" she asked percy.

"yeah." he said, shakily.

look at what you've done it demanded.

suddenly, y/n was watching something in front of her. it was a battle. she looked at the gory scene in front of her. it took her a minute to realize it was the battle of manhattan. she felt a lump in her throat as images of dead campers raced through her mind. silena, charlie, ethan, and luke.

this is your fault the voice said, but it wasn't sweet anymore. it was hoarse, raspy, and cruel.

look at what you've killed. look at what you've brought it continued.

the images flashed terrible battle scenes. it replayed deaths of each and every camper.

you did this the voice yelled.

"n-no, i didn't." y/n whispered, shaken by the images.

look at what you've done

"i didn't do it!" she pleaded.

you did! you did it all!

"i had no choice." she said, tears spilling from her eyes.

terrible, tortuous images kept playing. the deaths of the campers she'd grown up with, the reactions of their mothers and fathers, and the destruction that had been caused.

you deserve to die.

"i know." she whispered. "don't you think i know?"

do it the voice encouraged. do what you should've done years ago.

y/n tried to think through it. this voice, this voice wasn't human.

do it.

it was a siren. it was trying to get her to sacrifice her life.

"no." she said, standing her ground. "i did what i had to. i can't be blamed for it."

then who can you blame?

"kronos." she said, gripping her sword.

the siren showed it's demented face and y/n quickly slashed it. she snapped out of her trance, and the images faded and so did the voices. she turned to see percy holding his sword to his neck. she saw the twisted siren circling around him. she swiftly ran up to him and took his sword from his hand, before slashing the siren. percy too snapped out of his daze, and stumbled a little. y/n caught him, and looked up to meet his sea green eyes. they were teary, and he looked so disheartened.

"you saw it too." she confirmed.

he nodded.

"thank you." he said, his voice low and sincere. "i would've done-well you know what, if you hadn't saved me."

she nodded.

"we should probably get back to the ship." he said quietly.

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when percy and y/n got back, it was half-past midnight, and everyone was already there.

"we ran into sirens." y/n briefly explained.

they all nodded as the ship entered the air, sailing to its next location.

"we found the map." hazel informed. "goodnight guys."

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y/n tossed and turned in her bed. she couldn't get those images out. those dam sirens. she needed to talk to someone. someone who would understand. she sat up and opened her door. she trailed the hallway until the came across the door that read percy jackson. she lightly knocked before pushing the door open.

"couldn't sleep either?" he asked, laying down and staring at the ceiling.

"yeah." she said. "i can't get what the sirens showed me out of my head."

"c'mere." he said, patting the area next to him.

y/n laid down next to him.

"i know it's not our fault." he said quietly. "but it feels like it is."

"i know." she said softly. "it's like i should've done something. but there was nothing to be done."

"exactly." he said. "on one hand, i know i couldn't have saved them no matter what i did. but on the other, i feel like i should've figured it out."

"mhm." she agreed. "they were good people. that's what makes it hurt more."

"they didn't deserve death. and i don't deserve the hero title." he chuckled. "i let them die."

"you had no choice." she reminded.

"did i?" he questioned.

"percy, i saw and heard the same things you did. it just wanted to get in our heads." she explained. "and they did it through guilt. guilt that isn't ours to carry. it's kronos'."

"you're right." he agreed.

y/n had spent years hating him. but maybe, just maybe, he was alright. they had both seen the same things growing up. the same wars, deaths, and betrayals. in an odd way, she felt almost identical to him.

a few moments of silence passed by before y/n realized percy had fallen asleep. and after a few more minutes, she felt herself drift off as well.

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the next morning when y/n awoke, percy was already awake.

"morning." he smiled.

"oh dear god." she said, sitting up. "what time is it?"

"it's five-thirty. and i'm sorry." he said, sitting up as well.

"for what?"

"for how i treated you all these years." he exhaled, as if this was something he'd been meaning to get off his chest. "i'm sorry for leaving you in capture the flag."

"so you did know what you were doing, huh?" she retorted.

sure, the cuts and scars from that beating had been healed a long time ago. but, the betrayal never did.

"i didn't know you." he explained. "i didn't care about you. i just wanted to get annabeth to safety. that was wrong of me. you were on my team, i should've helped."

"'sorry' and 'i should've' doesn't fix anything. we're not best friends because we got along for a day." she said bitterly. "i know for a fact you would've left me in the woods the way you did all those years ago."

"that's not fair y/n." he frowned. "i would never do that to you."

"and you get to decide what's fair now?" she chuckled. "are you forgetting you continued tormenting me instead of swallowing your pride and apologizing?"

"i-"

"that's the thing about your loyalty, jackson. everyone admires it until they're on the receiving end of your betrayal." she said coldly, getting up.

"y/n, you might not trust me today, hell, you might not trust me for the rest of our short lives. but believe me when i say, from the bottom of my heart, i'm sorry."

"how do i know you're never going to do the same thing again?" she asked.

get got up and moved closer to her. he was practically towering over her. she felt her back hit the wall.

"you have my word." he promised, looking at her eyes.

she nodded in agreement, feeling herself breathe heavily being this close to him. she could feel him leaning in, and she did too. their lips pressed against one-anothers in a passionate kiss. his hands were placed on her waist, and her arms snaked around his neck. he tasted like salt and blue frosting. she felt herself get pushed backwards towards the wall as he continued to kiss her. it grew more passionate and ferocious until they both pulled away. she rested her head underneath his.

"friends?" he asked.

"we just made out. we are not friends." she laughed.

"i thought it was too bold to say lovers."

"lovers." she agreed.

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hope you liked it :) sorry for the wait!

#angst #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson #hoo x reader #pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x reader angst #percy jackson angst #percy jackson x reader fluff #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #fluff #percy jackson x you

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acewitch-writes · 10 months ago

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As a self-appointed canon Remus defender, I agree that Remus can be angry. It would be insane to suggest that a human being is incapable of expressing the perfectly natural human emotion of anger.

But the issue arises from turning that anger into a defining character trait, or when his anger isn't balanced and nuanced. If belittling/insulting his friends or exploding with rage is Remus' first instinct in any difficult situation in a fic, then he is OOC. Which may be suitable depending on the AU! I have written him with an angry streak myself, I'm not opposed to the idea of letting Remus be angry. But we should at least be able to acknowledge that this is OOC for Remus, who rarely expressed outward anger even in some very stressful situations.

My main qualm with atyd in particular is the fact that it touts itself as "canon compliant", eeeeexcept for the tiny fact that the main character's entire backstory was dramatically changed, which in turn affected his entire characterization. The fic even made a point to skip over every established canon scene because it would have made it very clear that atyd Remus and Canon Remus have little in common (except one scene briefly in the Shack where Remus uses special werewolf powers to read Sirius' mind to work out the whole secret keeper switch, using the very same technique that Sirius' mother often used to abuse him, this being their FIRST INTERACTION after 12 years apart, but I digress)

Atyd Remus is an OC with the same name who, yes, has some anger issues, and is nuanced and incredibly well-written, but he is NOT Remus and at no point throughout the story becomes Remus. The part that really sealed the deal for me was when Dumbledore arrived to invite Remus to teach at Hogwarts, and Remus was openly hostile and rude to this man that, canonically, is Remus' personal hero and infallible moral compass. ("Well, he's not my fucking brother.")

I also strongly disliked the way Sirius was scapegoated heavily at the end, made to apologize to Remus and grovel for his affection after spending 12 years in Azkaban while Remus was living a rather cozy life in comparison with his muggle lover in the flat that Sirius paid for. I remember waiting for Remus to apologize too, AND HE FUCKING NEVER DID

Disclaimer: I enjoyed atyd as a standalone AU with canon elements. It was beautifully written and the author clearly put so much time, effort, and love into writing it. I honestly really liked Remus in it, I just can never see him as superior to my beloved Canon Remus and I hate this fandom for bullying those of us who chose not to canonize a popular fanfic.

#i try to avoid openly criticizing atyd on here but I felt like I needed to elaborate on my “canon Remus wasn't angry” post #atyd critical #if fandom is going to use this fic as their source then we should be allowed to discuss it #I enjoyed atyd when I read it but I can't ignore the way it has erased Canon Remus from the marauders fandom #my fics get hate comments for building Remus based on canon traits bc this fandom canonized an ooc fic #I'm honestly scared to post this but fuck it #remus lupin #canon Remus defender #fanon vs canon

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joenotexotic99 · 10 months ago

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Idk if you're still making this, but I want to let you know that we're waiting for BoB Lovetropes p2. My suggestions: Toye, Eugene, Malarkey, Guarnere, Luz, Sobel. Hope you're doing okay <3

A/n: I've been dealing with some stuff lately and now finally have a little time to catch up on old stuff. I also want to apologize anon I couldn't bring myself to soble. Sorry couldn't do it.

-Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of language, got wayyy to carried away with malarkey’s, oops. Might have to turn that into its own thing, if it's not already. Luz is slightly spicy, nothing crazy but you cant miss it.-

Masterlist

Joe Toye

-grumpy vs sunshine trope. Omggggg, the idea of this has me kicking my feet and giggling. Joe Toye is rough around the edges, tough skin. You on the other hand have always been the positive one, keeping the people around you spirits high. Being an optimist of sorts. Maybe not cheerful but you could definitely make someone's day. Yet behind his grumpy facade, he can't help but notice your unwavering optimism. He wasn't opposed to love; he just never expected to be swept off his feet so quickly by one person. Your personality was anything but the same. Never in a million years did he think he was going to fall in love with a bright and shiny person, which was the exact reason why he loved you so much. You two were like night and day. You were the beacon of light in all the darkness. I feel like Toye would also be super protective over you. Kinda the same vibe as liebgott. But that's for another time.

“Is that a smile I see on your face toye?” “I'm one lucky bastard you realize that?”

Eugene roe

-office romance/forced proximity. I didn't exactly know what to call this one. Both you and roe are easy company medics. Gene from the start, harbord a crush on you. And mean big time crush. Thinking about you he got butterflies in his stomach. You both spent significant time together. Typically the only times you were separated is when you were attending to fellow paratroopers. Bastogne was a turning point. You were in a jeep headed to the church, your hand and a cloth being the soul thing keeping a man alive. You almost made it before the church burst into flames. When Gene heard what happened he got the first ride possible to bastogne. When he saw you, hand now on a clearly dead man, he took you into his arms. He brought you back to the Adrennes forest. As usual you spent the night in genes fox hole the only difference was you both saw what was right in front of you for the first time and kissed. It wasn't until Austria where he gave you a promise ring where he promised to spend and devote the rest of his life with you.

“you make me the happiest man you know that y/n?”

“Tell me that again at our wedding”

Donald Malarkey

-friends to lovers? Maybe a sprinkle of enemies to lovers?? I don't know but here me out. So you join the paratroopers as a female, the reason you got in was from connections in the army. Seeing how even if you are the most talented female there is, it's still the 40s here. I wouldn't think that the Toccoa men would flat out bully you, but would more just not believe in you. Probably leave you out of a lot of things. Kind of just pretend you weren't there. But not malarkey. He saw something in you that the rest didn't. Honestly he was shocked to see how they treated you. You were the best paratrooper there was in this company. You stood your ground. You met and exceeded in all categories. Passed each test with flying colors. You also were able to do it with the most incredible smile. As much as you disliked it, he stood up for you. Complimented and congratulated you when you did well. You really liked him. He was cute, kind, and not a douche wad. But sadly, most guys here if they weren't mean, they were trying to get Into your pants. As much as you wouldn't mind that with malarkey, you weren't here for that. One day in Aldbourne England you had enough. You weren't going to get swooned into bed and he had to know it. When you had a spare moment you grabbed him and pulled him aside and told him to stop. He was bewildered that this is how you perceived him. He explained to you that was not his intention. You could hear the sincerity of his voice. He meant it. This was the start of your friendship. You both were like a thing but not? Kinda a situationship. But it wasn't official until Haguenau. The effects of war painted across your faces. In one of the houses you laid in one of the beds, trying for the hundredth time to get some rest to no avail. He came and found you. There was little and a lot to say. Instead he kissed you. The past two years of friendship melted instantly into a lifetime of love.

“god i've wanted you to do that for a long time”

“What happened to ‘I'm not here for a relationship’?”

“shut the fuck up and kiss me again would ya”

William Guarnere

-Enemies to lovers. Come on, this is so perfect. Guarnere is a natural bully. He bullies everybody all the time, but you? He loves bullying you. He always has an insult special for you up his sleeve. However, that's a lie. He hates it to his core. You are the sweetest person ever. All he wants to do is not bully you. He's somewhere in the middle of liebgott and Speers. He doesn't want to be seen as weak. He has this demnor he feels the need to uphold and that everybody around him expects. Not some ooey gooey man. Even though if he could he'd probably worship you. You were perfect in his eyes. He hates himself more and more but the more he digs himself into this hole the harder it is for him to get out. He finally cracks when someone else makes a particular mean stab at you one day at a bar in holland. He can hate himself all he fucking wants for bullying you. But somebody else is doing it? Hurting you? Not going to happen. He breaks his nose, jaw, maybe a rib or two, black eye and busted lip, all before he could get ripped off this guy. You get wind of this later. Within minutes you're confronting him. Before he shuts you up with a kiss.

“I thought you hated me”

“Hate you? No, For fuckes sake sweetheart, I'm in love with you”

George Luz

-meet cute. You originally met just before you signed up to be paratroopers. And I mean just before. You were getting blood work done to test how fit you were to fight. As you waited in the lobby to fill out paperwork, you went to reach for your pen. That's when you realized it wasn't there. It just so happens that a very cute guy next to you had an extra with him. You quickly filled the paper and exchanged names and conversations. On the way home you couldn't get him out of your head. So couldn't he. Later when you were assigned to easy company you found the one and only George luz. The same extremely handsome guy at the clinic. He immediately recognized you. How could he not? Your face and laugh had been at the front of his thoughts a lot lately. You tried to keep both of your composure during Toccoa seeing how you didn't want to get into any trouble. But that all fell apart after one weekend with a pass and some alcohol. Kisses were shared, clothes were shed and hands roamed. After that night you made it official. Luz also started writing his vows.

“you know I've never felt this way before”

“What the sex or me? Because If it wasn't the sex let me know so we can go again”

“both luz, but I can't turn that offer down now can I”

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers x reader #joe toye x reader #eugene roe x reader #Donald Malarkey x reader #george luz x reader

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wordy-little-witch · 7 months ago

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Okay time to project~

Cross Guild poly info, but I'm gonna focus specifically on interdynamics because I freaking adore them and as someone polyamorous myself, it's super important to have and foster connections one on one and by and large.

Let's begin!

CrocoHawk

• they have had a mutual respect for one another for years prior to falling into orbit of each other. Mihawk always found Crocodile's no nonsense attitude to be wonderful and Croc in turn found Mihawk's unapologetic authenticity to be refreshingly real. They really went from acquaintances to friends to lovers pretty smoothly.

• they both enjoy quality time as their preferred dates, either something parallel where one reads and another practices something or they attend something like an opera or an event with minimal socialization with others.

• Crocodile cannot cook, but he is a decent prep assistant so some moments between them are in the kitchen with music playing and it's quiet and peaceful.

• they're both very hard headed and set in their ways. They're also opinionated. Sometimes this makes them a force to be reckoned with as a united front. Sometimes it means they fight like cats and dogs.

• they both take a very long time to come around to the idea of being a unit as opposed to two small islands with a little bridge between, but once they do, they are COMMITTED.

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CrocoBug

• They knew of one another prior to Roger's execution. Crocodile was on Whitebeard's crew specifically which occasionally crossed the Rogers. He had seen Buggy around a few times and never understood the appeal until one evening after a friendly battle, during the feast, when Buggy walked right up to Roger, handed him a small bottle with a tiny scowl, and said "your chest is crying again, you didn't take your medicine." Roger laughed it off, complied, and sent the angry boy on about his evening. When asked about it, Roger laughed brightly, explaining that he'd caught a bug a few islands back, Buggy and Crocus were being overly protective, and the kid's observation haki was off the charts, even by his standards. If Buggy says he hears something, Roger tells them proudly, you'd damn sure better listen. Crocodile ends up looking over, trying to steal glimpses of this young child who earned such regard from such a man as Roger.

• they go years without seeing one another, though Buggy did have a bit of a puppy love crush on Croc when he was young. It eventually petters out, and they are tangentially aware of the other in a vague sense. It isn't until Impel Down that they are pushed into proximity again. Crocodile was uncaring at best in the beginning - and then there was a damn near revolt on the stolen ship, he was preparing to go on the offensive, and Buggy - enigmatic, long haired, cowardly (?) Buggy - stomps it out faster than Croc could fathom. It is then, seeing the glint of calculation behind fiery blue eyes, that he begins to Think.

• nowadays, they are together, and their preferred time together is usually parallel engagement. Croc will do his paperwork and report reviews while Buggy works on trade routes, navigation, ciphers and his weapons stores. The Guild expands rapidly with many offers of sponsorship or partnership as they extend their horizons beyond general bounty assignments.

• Buggy sings to himself while he's working, a soft little thing where his voice pours over words and melodies like honey. Croc gets to used to it that sometimes doing his work without the background noise leaves him antsy and bored. He's embarrassed to admit it.

• Buggy meanwhile begins to associate the scent of Croc's cigars with productivity. You know that saying, some folks wind you up and others calm you down? That's the poly ship, but Croc and Buggy wind each other up.

• they both have formidable tempers. Usually it doesn't ignite on each other - Buggy out of mild fear and desire to not fuck it up - but when they do explode on each other? Oooh, it can get WILD.

• the make up afterwards is equally if not more so.

• Crocodile is the one to bring up to Buggy questions about his mental health. It's not to be mean, but he poses it as a "I once had this business partner who did X, Y, Z things, you remind me of them a lil bit. You good?"

• Buggy's all over the place and needs near constant assurance that he is loved in a way that makes sense to him. He will not ask for it because he's both embarrassed by it and also terrified to be denied outright. Luckily Crocodile doesn't pull punches. Words are not his strong suit, but his affection and care are shown in other ways that Buggy learns to know.

• on Bad Days for either of them, Buggy demands snuggles. He's a cuddly person by nature, and he can usually convince Crocodile to at least humor him in that. His baby doll eyes are a lethal weapon, and so he'll climb Croc if the other is busy or will drag the other off to pull him down on top of him, tuck the other's head on his chest over his heart, and will play with black-violet hair, singing, chattering or simply breathing. It's good for them both.

• they also bond over the fruitwanis. Buggy adores animals, loves them so much, and the fruitwani are no exception. He enjoys learning about their care, likes learning in general, especially when it's important to him or interesting. Crocodile is happy to share something he loves so dearly with a person he loves as well. ((His biggest act of devotion, respect and care is when he gifts Buggy his own 'wani. The reptile hatched differently from the rest, either smaller than average or with an odd coloring scheme or something else. Crocodile took one look at the baby wani and thought "Oh, my clown would love you." The idea remained for a good deal of time. Survival of newly hatched wanis is finicky, so the idea remained until he knew this one was likely to live, to survive and thrive with the right care. He trusts Buggy with that care. The trust is not lost on Buggy when Croc gives him the lil one))

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HawkBug

• while they don't seem to mesh at first glance, these two actually compliment each other nicely. Buggy matches the energy around him when he isn't in a position or role to perform. This can lead to cute moments, soft moments, and absolutely unhinged moments

• Mihawk has many bird like tendencies true to his moniker, but he also spent a lot of time with the humandrills and so has some more.... animalistic ape like habits as well that he hides more often than not. Chief among them is his version of a smile being more bared teeth and his habit of grooming others. It's acts of service and instinctive. He is thriving.

• on that habit by the way, he and Buggy are both autistic coded to me and I love the idea of them sharing in stimming and hobbies and special interests. Mihawk is No Thought Head Empty when Buggy is going absolutely insane over chemicals and synthesis and balancing equations. He enjoys seeing the clown so happily animated. He understands nothing other than Happy Clown, Happy Birb. Buggy likewise doesn't understand a lot of Mihawk's gardening but he loves seeing his swordsman boyfriend enjoy himself and stim while talking.

• speaking of stimming - Mihawk loves Buggy's hair. It's a good color, texture, look, thickness, weight, he is constantly fighting a battle to not just shove his hands into the hair 24/7. Buggy wouldn't mind at all, he likes having his hair played with usually, but Mihawk had a Reputation. Once the Guild calms a bit more and everyone relaxes into each other, he'll stim more freely with select people around beyond his boyfriends.

• Buggy has spent a lifetime trying to avoid some of his more notable stims in order to be taken seriously, so having Mihawk unapologetically saying "wait no tell me more" or "do what makes you feel best - you are most beautiful when you are happy" makes him SOAR with butterflies. Visual stimming absolutely is great, but he also loves vestibular and kinesthetic stimming. Aerials his beloved ♡♡♡

• stim dates stim dates stim dates

• speaking of dates: despite general ideas, Buggy's not always one to want big Flashy dates. Sometimes cooking dinner with Mihawk while they chat or play music or dance in the kitchen is the most rewarding to him. They usually wind up both laughing and pressing close and sharing kisses while making whatever recipe they decide on. Sometimes Mihawk will take point with a dish he knows well. Sometimes Buggy is the one in the lead. Regardless, it's usually a cozy affair with good food, better company, some drinks and cuddles near the end, all wrapped up with a good book or conversation.

• they both have a guilty pleasure for trashy romance novels, so sometimes they'll both read a book, have a lil book club about it and have fun discussing it, making fun of the wording or plot or characters, sometimes trying to figure out positioning in certain scenes and then absolutely losing it when they make eye contact either because of how ridiculous the posing is or because one made a stupid yet silly comment or one liner that sends the otherr into hysterics.

• Mihawk snorts when he laughs and Buggy loves getting it to happen.

#crocobug #hawkbug #crocohawk #one piece #buggy the clown #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #polyamory #domestic pirate polycule #one piece headcanons

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heliads · 2 years ago

Note

Hii Lisa my beloved!💕💕 I'm in my Kaz phase again and some stupid ideas have been running through my head constantly. Hoping you could turn it into a wonderful fic, if you like the idea of course.

Kaz x reader with slight Nikolai x reader😌

So, reader is a Grisha with healing abilities (hidden like Alina). After a tragic event, the loss of their family hit hard and they were taken into care by some people that worked at the palace. That's where reader met Nikolai, they became best friends and later enrolled in Army, became lovers all of that. Reader's healing powers were slightly special in the sense that when they used them there was a golden glow all around, making the wrong people believe reader was a sun summoner. After being madly in love for some time, reader got kidnapped for their powers. Tortured for 2 years, reader was saved by our lovely Crows. Reader believed Nikolai never looked for them (false because he did desperately until he ran away and became Sturmhond after believing that reader died)

Reader becomes a Crow, falls in love with Kaz, they have a relationship for 2 years or so and then, one day they fight about something and right at that time, Nikolai makes his way to their bar. Reader and Nikolai have an emotional meeting that leaves Kaz insecure and jealous.

The ending...well I think reader should stay with Kaz buut I'm not opposed to something else👀

Whatever you want my dear Lisa. I hope this makes sense and it's not too insane. I love you and thank you💕

my beloved!!! this request is literally incredible, why are your ideas always exquisite????

masterlist

You don’t like it when Ketterdam is quiet. This jilted city of yours is always loud, always rowdy, and on the few instances in which it isn’t, the whole place seems to hold its breath, just waiting for something bad to happen. Sometimes you hear things you shouldn’t when there’s no background noise to cover it up. Sometimes, worst of all, you dream.

This dream is not a good one. You only know this after waking. The dream leaves quickly, as all dreams do, slipping back away under cover of night to haunt some other sleeper. You let it pool in your trembling hands, dripping out through your fingers despite your best attempts to stop it from abandoning you. It must have been a tumultuous dream indeed, because for a moment you thought you were back. Back in Ravka. Back with him.

Ravka is not yours anymore. It was, once upon a time, or so you let yourself believe. You were born in a small village near Adena, home mostly to craftsmen without merit and tradesmen with a fear of leaving their homes. It was a quiet, get-what-you-will existence for the most part, up until the point when you reattached a woman’s severed leg with a wave of your hand and discovered you were a Grisha.

Healers are valuable commodities in a war-torn nation, and you were shipped off to Os Alta before you knew it. It would have been lonely there in a city fiercely divided between Grisha and non-Grisha, were it not for the one friend you made there. A prince, of all people. A second son who wanted nothing more to run. Nikolai Lantsov.

You and Nikolai were just children when you met. It took years of close friendship for you to trust each other enough to fall in love, and even then, it was your best kept secret. Princes do not fall in love with witches. Grisha do not fall in love with mortal men. You kissed him behind locked doors and swore it would be enough for you, even if it wasn’t.

Perhaps it would have been, if Fate had been content to let you rest in mere complacency. There was one singular trait that separated you from the rest of the Corporalnik Healers at the Little Palace, one minor mark of difference. You can heal a patient just as well as anybody else, but for some reason, you glow when you do it. A warm, golden light emits from your palms whenever you use your gifts. His sunbeam, Nikolai used to call you.

Maybe people listened in too closely when they shouldn’t have. Maybe someone connected dots that didn’t exist. Maybe it’s just that in a country like Ravka, a country split by the Shadow Fold, a country in desperate need of Saints, it would be easy to overlook someone’s mortality in the hopes of discovering their own salvation.

That’s your best guess as to what happened to you. What you remember best is the aftermath, not the reason. You were taken from Os Alta in the dead of night, your hands bound in chains so you couldn’t fight or use your gift. You tried to scream, but they had a Squaller, a damned traitor, who stole the breath from your lungs before any sound could be heard.

They tortured you for two months, hoping you’d break and show that you really were the Sun Summoner they’d get paid to sell. It never happened, so they dug harder, cut you more, cared even less. You waited in dark and squalid rooms for someone to rescue you, someone like Nikolai, but no one came. No one Ravkan, at least.

You always wondered if you could put a time cap on the love of a prince. It turns out you can: four months and six days is all it took for Nikolai Lantsov to give up on you. You spent four months and six days waiting for him before hearing that he’d officially stopped mourning you in public to go to university, and the remainder of those two years in wondering how little he must have cared for you to give up just like that.

You have no doubt that your captors would have spent far longer than two pathetic years in trying to extract a Sun Saint from your exhausted spirit were it not for your rescuer. A far different savior than you expected, to be sure, far more bloodthirsty than any guardian angel you’ve ever heard about, but he did the job. He always does.

That’s Dirtyhands for you, you suppose, he gets what he wants. And if what he wants is a Healer at the low cost of having to break into a smuggler’s ship while it paused briefly in the Kerch harbor for supplies, so be it. Kaz Brekker was there for money and he was there for a new soldier to serve in his gang. You happened to fit both bills.

At first, you hadn’t known if you were actually safe or in even more danger than before. At least Kaz wasn’t torturing you outright– that was a start, wasn’t it? You didn’t trust him in the slightest at first, nor him with you. It took months of slow, apprehensive acceptance for that to happen.

It took longer for hesitant acquaintanceship to turn into friendship, and for friendship to turn to something more. Something like happiness. Something like the pure contentment of knowing that there is one person out there who would burn the whole world down if you were ever hurt. Nikolai mourned you for an appropriate time, but if the roles were reversed and you were in Ketterdam when you were kidnapped, Kaz would never accept your loss.

He’s all but told you this himself. There was one instance in your first six months of being in the Barrel when another Grisha hunter decided you would make decent prey. You were only an hour later than expected, but ten men were killed and a pleasure house burnt to the ground by the time Kaz got you back. You never feared getting taken again. You think he’s quite proud of that, even if he’ll never admit it to a living soul. Only the dead tell no tales.

So the Barrel is your home, so bloody kruge becomes your daily bread and butter. You wouldn’t want any other life. There is always the fear that you would someday lose that confidence, but you swore that time was over. Apparently not, though.

All that time spent learning to live again, and you still wake up in cold sweats, half sure that you’re back in your birth country and no better off than when you started. Kaz doesn’t deserve that. Your guilty conscience makes you want to beg his forgiveness, so you slip out of your room and up the stairs to his office without a second thought.

You know better than to think that Kaz Brekker would be asleep a few hours past dawn. You’re not entirely sure that he ever sleeps at all. It wouldn’t surprise you if he found a way to optimize his waking hours such that he never needed to close his eyes. Being able to capitalize on the time everyone else spent sleeping would certainly give him a leg up in the race of the Barrel rats.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling charitable, Kaz lets you heal him just a little bit, not the sort of injury reduction associated with broken bones but that of eliminating exhaustion. You’ve learned how to use your gifts without touching skin. Maybe that’s why he wanted your skills on his side in the first place, just in case.

The door creaks slightly when you come in. It is well within Kaz’s powers to oil the dratted thing, but you think he likes the sound. It serves as a warning of an intruder if he needs one, a reminder that he is no longer alone. It tells him that you are here now, and he looks up from his seat at his desk. The only sign that these aren’t normal working hours for anyone else is the slight dishevelment of his appearance, dark hair falling haphazardly over his eyes from being frustratedly pushed out of the way one too many times, his clothes rumpled and jacket removed.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks.

“Could you?” You return.

Kaz rolls his eyes. “I don’t need sleep.”

“Of course you do,” you say matter-of-factly, “You’re still human, Kaz, despite your best efforts to turn yourself into a machine.”

“I think it would be less productive to be a machine,” Kaz muses as he considers the stacks of ledgers before him, “think of the rust. Also, I don’t trust any gadget not to break down when you need it most.”

You snort, closing the door behind you and walking to the window behind his desk. “Machines aren’t the only ones breaking down all the time. People do that too.”

Your voice trails off on your last sentence, and Kaz cuts off his stare with his ledgers, turning his chair to face you. When he speaks again, his tone is gentle. It would surprise anyone but you.

“You’ve had another nightmare about Ravka again, haven’t you?”

You deliberate over your words, opting instead to perch on Kaz’s window seat and draw your legs up to your chest. He already knows the answer, anyway. “Yes,” you reply at last.

Kaz nods once. “It’s not real. The dream.”

You laugh bitterly. “I know that. I just hate the way I keep thinking about that place. It makes me feel weak.”

Kaz frowns. “You’re not weak. If you were, I never would have hired you.”

You can’t stop a faint grin from flitting across your face. “So romantic, Kaz.”

“Isn’t it?” He asks.

You glance at him over your shoulder and register genuine bewilderment on your face. To Kaz, you suppose, that is the height of romance after all. A true validation of your worth, a promise that you are enough.

It makes you smile. “You’re right,” you decide, “it is. It’s good to know my position is safe.”

“You’re safe,” Kaz repeats. He stands, walking over to the window. He doesn’t lean against you, but you can feel the exhale of his breath on your shoulder, the ghost of the touch you will never force him to give. “I will make sure of it.”

The two of you stare out the window at the rising sun. A new dawn is coming, bringing with it a new day, new surprises. Some of those surprises, as it turns out, will be far more shocking than you could have ever envisioned.

You’d like to say that you recovered from your nightmare pretty quickly after that, and you did collect your wits, but the jittery feeling stays with you well into the evening. You decide to stop by the Crow Club once dusk sets in, both as a favor to Kaz and for yourself. Once you do your usual perusal of tables, only having to point out one particularly gifted cheater to the guards, you allow yourself to drift over to the bar and order your favorite drink.

You see Jesper briefly in between rounds of Makker’s Wheel and talk idly for a few moments before he drifts off again. The Crow Club, albeit one of the fastest places in Kerch for money to leave your pockets, still feels like home to you. The rowdy hubbub, the dim lights, all of it is yours and has been for some time now. The Barrel is not safe, but this is Kaz’s place, and that means you never feel threatened so long as you’re within its walls.

Maybe that’s why you don’t register the new presence until it’s too late to run. The thought that the young man standing before you could ever be here at all is utterly bewildering. This is the Barrel, this is your mess of dingy canals and hopeless cases. What reason could Nikolai Lantsov possibly have to bring him down these parts?

You blink and he’s standing there staring at you like he’s seen a ghost. All the cockiness drains from his step as his jaw unapologetically drops. It is loud in here, but you swear the volume drops just long enough for you to hear him with perfect accuracy as Nikolai whispers:

“Y/N?”

He says it like a prayer delivered by a dying man, every syllable infused with impossible hope. You don’t respond, but something in your expression must confirm his question anyway. Either that or your face has changed so little in the five years since you saw him last that Nikolai can recognize you anyway, even in the smoke-filled haven of the Crow Club.

He draws forward by impulse, steps quickening the closer he gets to you. In all honesty, you have no idea what he is about to do, nor how you would respond, so you find yourself unquestionably grateful when Kaz emerges out of nowhere to stand in between you and Ravka’s younger prince.

Nikolai pulls up short to avoid running into him. “Who,” Kaz says, voice low but cold as a blade, “are you?”

Nikolai’s gaze darts past Kaz to lock squarely on you. You find yourself answering in his stead. “This is Nikolai.”

You can’t see Kaz’s expression from this angle, but you can imagine the way his eyes must narrow anyway. “Nikolai from Ravka?”

“The very one,” Nikolai replies, a touch of that same bravado in his tone you remembered so well.

Kaz scoffs. “Impossible. How’d you cross the Shadow Fold, then, prince?”

Nikolai gestures to himself, and only now once the initial shock of seeing him is starting to fade away do you realize how absurdly he’s dressed. “I left Ravka when I thought Y/N died. I go by a different name now. Sturmhond.”

You laugh in spite of yourself, a high sound bordering almost on fright. “You became a pirate?”

“Privateer,” he corrects, and judging by the quick answer you’re guessing it’s the same knee-jerk response he gives to everybody.

Kaz shifts slightly, allowing you to see the glare he’s not bothering to hide. “And what are you doing in my city, privateer?”

Nikolai swallows hard. “I heard a rumor about a Healer. A Healer whose hands glowed when she saved someone’s life. I had to know.”

Kaz looks like he wants to physically cut the source of this information out of Nikolai’s throat, but you beat him to it. “Why would you care now? You never tried to find me.”

Nikolai’s eyes flash. “I tried every day until I heard you were dead. I mourned for months.”

“Heard,” Kaz comments, “you never found a body?”

“Obviously not,” Nikolai says, glancing towards you again, “Why didn’t you come back to Ravka, Y/N? Why didn’t you try to find me? I missed you. I loved you. I still do.” He holds out a hand to you. “My ship leaves in one week’s time. Come home with me.”

You find yourself flinching back. Since your first days on the shores of Ketterdam, you’ve long since learned to disguise any sign of weakness, but Kaz knows you well enough to look for signs of trouble in even your slightest of expressions.

The small catch of your breath now tells him all he needs to know regarding Nikolai’s offer. Kaz’s hands curl around his cane, causing the black leather to crease like skin. “Y/N is safe here, Lantosov. She doesn’t need your war-torn country.”

Nikolai’s brow furrows. “Who are you to speak for her?”

“I’m the one who actually saved her instead of giving up,” Kaz says simply, “I’m the one who gave her a home.”

Nikolai’s eyes flit to you again, and you nod. “I loved you, Nikolai, it’s true, but I moved on when you did. Ketterdam is where I belong. My time in Ravka is over.”

You see Kaz straighten up imperceptibly by your side. From the way he’d spoken to Nikolai, you hadn’t thought he harbored a shred of uncertainty regarding where you would want to go, but it appears that his worst fears were assuaged by you asserting that you wanted to stay with him.

Nikolai swallows hard. “I won’t blame you for wanting to come home.” Only myself, you can sense him mentally adding on. It is a shame that time has not robbed you of the ability to tell what he’s thinking.

“I already am home, Nikolai.” You tell him.

He nods and leaves without another word. You watch him go, and he does not look back. Nikolai has had quite a long time to mourn your absence. Tonight may have set him back a little bit, but you have no doubt that he will recover just as he did before.

“Thank you for staying,” Kaz murmurs when Nikolai disappears from the club.

“Thank you for fighting to keep me here,” you whisper back.

Kaz’s eyes are sharp when they meet yours. “I will always fight for you.”

That, you think, is the difference between him and Nikolai in the end. Nikolai will carry your memory with him wherever he goes, but Kaz would never allow someone to take you from him in the first place. He would go to war to keep you safe. In a way, you think he already has.

You have the perfect view of Fifth Harbor from Kaz’s office window. You wonder if he planned it that way, so he could see both who was entering his life and who was leaving it. The two of you stand and watch Nikolai’s ship leave for Ravka once more. You wondered if it would hurt to see a ticket back to your place of birth evaporate from between your fingers, but it doesn’t. It’s just like you told Nikolai, isn’t it? You are already home. There is no need to leave.

requested by @zaypay, i hope you enjoy!

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @story-scribbler, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000

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sisterofsomeone · 9 months ago

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SisterofSomeone's Masterlist!

Hiya! I'm SisterofSomeone, otherwise known as Caitlin. I'm 23 and am slowly coming back to into the world of fanfiction writing. So here is my very barebones masterlist, and some little insights into some fics I have planned, enjoy! If you would like to be added to my tag list just send me a message or comment on here, I’d be more than happy to add you 🥹💜

Just as a little warning, I won't write: full non-con (cnc and dub-con are allowed), minors, excessive gore, full incest (e.g. brother x sister, but step brother x step sister is cool with me), pregnancy scares/unplanned pregnancy, more may be added as I think of them and I always hold the right to not answer/write for whatever reason I want :)

Seventeen

Choi Seungcheol

WIP: Seeing You After All This Time - Summary: Seungcheol, that gummy smiled, annoying boy you grew up with would always have your heart. Even if it seemed like he didn’t want it anymore. Warnings: idol!Seungcheol x idol!fem!reader, lovers to exes to lovers, angst, fluff, mentions of depression/insomnia, mentions of self-harm/self-harming behaviour, references to disordered eating, bodyweight comments (but no actual numbers), swearing, established relationship, (more will be added as the series goes on!)

Yoon Jeonghan

WIP: In the Blind Spot - Summary: You’re Seungcheol’s little sister. Innocent and sweet. He’s always said you’re completely off limits to all the boys. You’re 2 years younger than Chan for fucks sake, way too young for any of the rabble. But unbeknownst to him, you’re being hounded by some of his best friends. Just can’t let big brother find out you’re not exactly opposed to spending some ‘one on one’ time with them. Got to get the deed done in his blind spot. Warnings: idol!Chan x fem!reader, idol!Seokmin x fem!reader, idol!Jeonghan x fem!reader, idol!Mingyu x fem!reader, swearing, smut MDNI 18+,

Hong Joshua

WIP: The Three Musketeers - Summary: When the boys are on tour they like to wind down with some good food, good drinks, good music, and good company. So when you’re batting your eyelashes at them in the hotel bar, they know they’re in for a good evening. Warnings: idol!joshua x fem!reader x idol!Seokmin x idol!Jihoon, smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names, foursome

Wen Junhui

nothing here yet sadly :(

Kwon Soonyoung

nothing here yet sadly :(

Jeon Wonwoo

Until Death Do Us Part - Summary: On a wedding day in Baldur’s Gate, a marriage is sealed with a sanctified bond. A powerful magic that allows your minds to meld and cannot ever be undone. It is also required to share your darkest secret for the bond to be bestowed. There is a common myth passed around that once, a very long time ago, a woman was tricked into marriage by a demon of sorts and only found out when they wed. Every wedding at that moment the room falls silent, waiting for another scream, another myth making secret to be revealed. You just never thought you would be witness to it. Series Warnings: Wonwoo x fem!reader, slight Seokmin x fem!reader (because I can't help myself), established relationship/situationship, angst, fluff, swearing, drinking, smoking, there are references to end game BG3 and spoilers for the whole game so please proceed with caution! smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl, princess), oral sex (male and female receiving), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, size kink, reader has a vagina that gets described as a pussy/cunt, slight dub-con for a second then clear consent, (more will be added as the series goes on!)

Lee Jihoon

Lee Seokmin

Self Destruction - Summary: Lee Seokmin. No words could describe your love for him, how your heart raced when he was near. But you two were growing apart, his eyes and hands wandering away from yours. Now you harboured a growing hatred for the man you once loved so dearly, and as much as you wanted it to stop growing, he just kept adding fuel to the fire. Warnings: toxic!Seokmin x toxic!fem!reader, slight Wonwoo x reader, established relationship, lovers to enemies to ???, ANGST!!!, swearing, cheating, smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl), oral sex (male receiving)

WIP: Friendzoned - Summary: Warnings:

Kim Mingyu

Xu Minghao

nothing here yet sadly :(

Boo Seungkwan

nothing here yet sadly :(

Chwe Vernon

WIP: Secret Player Two - Summary: You’re enjoying a solo, quiet night in while your boyfriend is away at Milan fashion week by playing your new favourite video game when there's a knock at the door. When you invite Vernon in to chill with you, you never imagined the effect a video game sex scene might have on your, well, frustrated new player two. Warnings: idol!Vernon x idol!fem!reader, swearing, cheating, smut MDNI 18+,

Lee Chan

WIP: Friendzoned - Summary: Warnings:

WIP: Little Miss Virgin- Summary: Your best friends Seungkwan and Jeonghan have always taken a weird pleasure in picking on you in front of the other members and watching you blush and panic. But one boozy night at Mingyu and Wonwoo's flat they push you a little too far and tell everyone your most embarrassing secret - you've never been kissed, never been wanted like that. The guys assure you that it's nothing to be ashamed of, "you'll find someone". But across the room a fire lights in Chan's stomach, and he needs to be your first. Warnings: idol!Dino x fem!reader, corruption kink, size kink, swearing, smut MDNI 18+,

Drabbles:

00:58 - chan fucks you in front of the guys

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seospicybin · 2 years ago

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HAPPIEST SEASON.

Han x reader. (s,f)

Synopsis: It's the first time you take your best friend Han to spend Christmas holiday with your family and to also announce a great news but the more he knows the more he's doubting himself. (19,4k words)

Author's note: It's slow burn, best friends to lovers, just a tad bit angsty, warm and fluffy with a side of family drama and ex jealousy. It's my gift to you, hope you like it! Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone :)

Marry your best friend.

Han ever heard that line before, either from a movie or an advertisement, he couldn't remember. What he's trying to say is he has no problem with it but he's having a hard time making sense of it.

How can you marry your own best friend? Wouldn't that be weird? Isn't it going to feel like marrying your second cousin or something?

"If we don't find love then we'll just marry each other."

You once said it as a joke or he thought it was.

Han isn't opposed to the idea, he is pretty much given up searching for love because what's the use though if it would only end up in heartbreak and misery?

On the other side, you got tired of going on blind dates your father set for you in order to find you the one, or in your words 'the one' your father approved.

Just like tonight, it seems like you've just gone on another one and you come to his place afterward like you always do, either to vent about the date, your father and how you only obey him because of his stubbornness.

Han would intently listen to your rant with a can of beer in hand. Except, you seem so calm and he takes it that the date went well.

"You're working on something?" You asked from the doorway of his bedroom while taking your cardigan off.

"Just keeping myself busy," he answers, a bit stammering at the sight of you in a red dress that makes you look so radiant.

He clears his throat before asking, "what's up?"

You lean the side of your body against the doorframe, looking a little distracted like something is bothering you, then you softly sigh, "can we talk?"

Everyone would agree with him that those three words are anxiety-inducing he immediately thinks if he has done something wrong to you.

You take two canned drinks out of his fridge and hand the beer to him while you have your favorite peach-flavored drink in your hands.

"How was the date?" He asks because it seems like what you're going to talk about is something related to it.

"It was alright," you answered.

That convinced him that the date went well just as he guessed, and he feels relieved that he can finally pop open his can of beer, then takes a long gulp.

You sit next to him on the couch and take a sip of your drink as well while looking at the tree outside, changing its leaves at the turn of the season.

"You remember I once said that if we don't find love, we'll just marry each other?" You asked out of the blue.

Han laughs in response and takes another sip of his beer.

You put your drink away and shift on your seat to face him, "I think it's time," you said.

You do this all the time, keeping a straight face so that he can't tell the difference whether you're telling a joke or being serious. But it must be the former, right?

"Yeah, sure," he half-heartedly replies with a dry laugh.

You put your hand on his forearm and it feels cold that he turns his head at you, you look a little distressed like something is bothering your head.

"Why are you so nervous?" He bluntly asks because he has never seen you like this.

For him, you always have been the happy-go-lucky kind of girl, it's like you bring your own sun wherever you go and spread the warmth to everyone around you.

You put on a small smile before speaking, "Listen, Han, I'm getting tired of my father setting me up with these people that I barely knew."

He acknowledges the issue because you have told him enough to know that you're just so done with all of it.

"I figured that if I'll ever marry someone, it's not going to be someone my father chooses for me," you said.

He nods while intently listening to you, putting his hand over yours to show he's taking your side on the matter.

"And I choose you," you said.

It takes him more than a minute to process those words, because a) he didn't expect the talk would lead to b) implying that you choose him and c) to marry you?

He bursts out laughing because he doesn't know how else to react to this.

"You're joking right?" He asks because you always keep a straight face when you're telling a joke.

You shake your head, "No, I'm not," you shortly replied.

His laughs slowly die down and are replaced by anxiety, "but we're friends," he innocently remarks.

"And isn't that just great?" You exclaimed.

That's not the answer he expected, you seem rather delighted by this fact.

"We've been friends for years and we know each other the best and we're comfortable around each other," you listed all of the things that would favor the union.

If you put it that way then yes, it doesn't weird at all to marry your best friend.

"Come on! Let's get married!" You cheerfully said with your shoulder bumping him.

Yet Han is still not convinced by the idea, he was just minding his business a few minutes ago and the next thing he knows his best friend proposed to him. Anyone can understand how confusing this situation is for him.

"But– but, we're fri– we're not—" he is at a loss for words that he's unable to finish his sentence.

As a friend of his for years and grow a telepathic connection with him, you understand what he's trying to ask you.

You take his hand on his lap and clasped it, "Marriage is not always about love. I just think that if I want to spend the rest of my life with someone, I want it to be with my best friend," you explained.

And five years of friendship proves nothing but he does have those feelings for you but not in a romantic way.

Maybe it's possible after all, to marry your best friend with no love involved, but another question pops into his head.

"What about your father?" He asks.

You lean in closer and look him in the eyes, "I did this because I do want this. Not because of my father or anyone else for that matter, I want this," you emphasize how much you meant your words to him.

You don't need to do all that, he sees right through you, you crinkle your nose when you lie and all he can see right now is the sincerity in your eyes.

There are so many rhetorical questions appearing in his head and just like any other human being, he keeps being haunted by his own failures of his past romantic relationships that he can't help but ask you this one question.

"What if it doesn't work out?" He meekly asks.

You put on a smile and ask him back, "What if it works out?"

And he likes that about you, how you always see the world through a different view, how you always look on the brighter side of things, and how you can easily infect him with your confidence.

That's what he needs in his life, confidence and you help him build it in him over time.

That's only one of the many good things you've done for him, if he should list everything, it would take him forever.

You shake the hand on his lap to snap him out of his head, "Han, you know you're free to say no, there's no pressure," you reminded him.

He takes a shaky breath and awkwardly massages his temple, "it's just... so sudden," he admitted.

You crack a laugh, "I know, right? Just take your time," you assured him.

You take your hand off of him and grab your drink, walking away to the kitchen to give Han space and time to think.

He thinks it all over in his head, listing every pros and cons of marrying you.

Everything you said is fair and sensible.

You indeed know him best to the point that he doesn't have to hide his true self from you and the idea of having, living in that safe space for the rest of his life won him over almost immediately.

He looks at you as you return to the couch with a new can of drink, put the drink on the table then all of sudden, kneels on the floor in front of him.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" He asks in shock.

"Properly proposing you," you casually answer and take the ring tab from the empty can of your drink.

You look up at him with a smile on your face, "Han Jisung, will you marry me?"

Never in a million years he thought that his best friend would be on her knee and proposed to him!

He's in his black sweater and sweatpants, his hair is unruly from staying the night up finishing a track and he is aware of the mess in his small apartment, the dishes piling on the sink, and a basket full of dirty laundry in the corner of the room.

And he's certain that he doesn't have it in him to be a husband.

Yet here you are, kneeling in front of him and asking him to marry you.

He takes a deep breath, taking a moment to try to verbalize his thoughts into words even though everyone knows that's an impossible thing to do.

In the end, he settles with a simple answer, "let's do this!"

There is a deep crease between your eyebrows, "what do you mean by that?"

"Let's do this!" He repeats, "let's get married!"

"Are you saying yes?" You asked with your breath hitched at the end of the sentence.

"I am, yes, yes I do!" He says, softly laughing at how your face was all tensed and pale.

You break down on the floor and he thought you are about to faint, but you propped your hands behind you, "oh fuck!"

He holds out his hands to help you get up from the floor, he uses all of his strength to pull you up so that you crashed against him on the couch.

"I didn't know how nerve-wracking a marriage proposal is until now," you said while clutching your chest and then putting your arms around his neck, hugging him so tight.

"Thank you for saying yes," you said.

"You're welcome, I guess?" He gets flustered because it should be him kneeling on the floor for you, not the other way around.

When you let go of the hug, he sees your eyes brimming with tears.

"Are you crying?" He asked in pure confusion.

"No," You said while hurriedly wiping the tears that rolled down one side of your cheek.

"I'm just so happy, I guess?"

Han didn’t know you needed his answer that badly but at the same time, he can’t explain why he’s just as happy.

A few weeks after the proposal, you both moved into a new apartment intending to adjust to each other by living together.

He likes the new apartment because a) it is bigger than his old one b) you both have your own rooms and c) you share a bathroom, but he doesn't mind it because he gets to borrow your shampoo when he runs out.

He never skipped a meal since he started living with you, he knows where his things are because you keep everything well organized and he doesn't have to worry when he needs to wake up early in the morning.

He used to think that moving in with someone takes a great commitment, nobody said that this would be this easy or maybe it's because he's living with you that makes it seem so easy.

The more he thinks about the marriage, the more plausible it becomes to him, marrying his best friend.

The bedroom door is ajar but you come knocking on his door when he's packing for the trip to your parent's house for the holidays.

He looks up to see you in your night dress and smiling at him while showing him the canned drinks in your hands, "drinks?"

He grins at the idea, "sure!"

You step inside and lean against his desk, forgetting that his desk is so close to crumbling down.

You retreat and sit on his bed instead, handing him his favorite late-night beverage, beer.

Clanking your cans against each other before taking a sip, then you notice the things scattered on his bed, "do you need help packing?" You offered.

"It's okay. I'm almost done anyway," he answers but actually, he's still trying to go through the list of things he should pack in his head.

You softly smile and help him tidy up his folded shirts, "you're not nervous, right?"

"About the trip?"

"Yeah."

"A little," he honestly answers.

"What about you?"

You take a long gulp of your drink before answering, "I've never been this nervous to come home for the holidays," you admitted.

He understands that it's not going to be an easy thing to let your family know that you proposed to someone, to your own best friend, to him.

You take his stacks of t-shirts and roll them one by one, "It's just the uhm... there'll always be a drama," you awkwardly said with a flustered laugh.

"Well, at least, when relatives ask about my love life, I can confidently answer that I'm engaged," you said with a low laugh.

See? You always know where to look for the silver lining. But he can only respond with a dry laugh because he wouldn't be that confident to tell anyone if he's engaged to someone like him.

Once you both finished both of your drinks, you get up from his bed and take the empty cans with you, "if there's nothing else I can help you with then I'm going to bed."

"Sure yeah, you need to rest," he says remembering that he does not yet have a driving license so you'll be the one driving the three hours trip.

You place a hand on his shoulder and softly squeeze it, leaning in to kiss him briefly on the cheek, "don't stay up too late, okay?"

In the years-long of being friends, he remembers the three occasions in which you kissed him on the cheek, one was on graduation day, two was when he sold his first track and three was when he caught your favorite plushie from the vending machine for you.

And now, you start this habit of kissing him on the cheek before bed. To be honest, it felt weird getting it at first but now it feels weird when you didn't give him a goodnight kiss before bed.

"Goodnight!" You say while lingering in his doorway.

"Goodnight!" He says back, watching you leave his bedroom but keep the door ajar.

Gosh, why is he always sleeping through his alarm? Thanks to you, he's never late waking up in the morning and getting better at being tardy. With his eyes still heavy with sleep, he trudges his way to the bathroom only to barge in on you drying your hair in your bathrobe.

"I'm sorry. The door is open so I thought—" he slurs his words because his brain isn't properly functioning yet without caffeine.

You laugh at him, "no worries!"

Han will never get used to seeing you with that much-exposed skin. Just because you're his best friend doesn't mean that it's normal for him to see you naked, he still takes it as something inappropriate.

You sense his discomfort and unplug the hairdryer, "I'll continue in my bedroom," you say then leave the bathroom.

Knowing that he only can do much without a driving license, Han gets all of the bags down from the apartment and loads them into the car, warming up the car engine for you.

"Do you still have any space left in your bag?" You ask, the moment you get in the driver's seat.

He grabs his backpack from the backseat and unzips it, "I think so," he answers.

You hand him your book, "I forgot to put it in the suitcase," you say.

"I got this," he takes the book and puts it inside his backpack.

Han tries to stay awake the whole ride but he didn't listen to you to not stay up late, he went to sleep so late that he falls asleep in the car.

When he wakes up, there are only a few kilometers left on the trip.

The closer he gets to your parent's house the more nervous he gets, he met your parents a few times before but this will be his first time coming to your parent's house.

Your family is nice but now that he's agreed to marry you, he feels the need to prove himself that he's worthy to be a part of your family. He's not sure if he'll ever be a part because you have a picture-perfect family, your father is a retired district attorney and your mother is a licensed psychologist, your older sister teaches at university, she has also married a lawyer from a successful blind date your father set them up.

Well, he doesn't have to tell you how great you are, you are smart and beautiful, and you are on your way to being a great architect.

How can he compare himself to all of that? He's just a struggling musician, he earns money from making music and no one even knows who he is.

He feels so small already from assessing all that greatness in your family. How is he going to fit in? To add to his suffering, he's not great at being around family, no wait, he's not great at being around people in general.

"We're here!" You announce with a gleeful smile on your face.

If only he wasn't that nervous, he would be as happy as you but he manages to put on a smile for you.

"I'll get our things, don't worry!" He says. He needs a little more time to prepare himself before meeting your family.

But you help him get your things from the car and drag them to the front door of the house, then ring the doorbell with a gleeful smile on your face.

A moment later, someone opens the door followed by a shriek, "oh my God, it's you!"

Han sighs in relief after seeing that it's your sister who opened the door, he met your sister several times because she visited you a lot when you were still in university.

He watches as you reunited with your sister and exchange a kiss on the cheek after.

"I think you remember Han," you take a wild guess and present him to your sister.

"Of course! Hi, hello, Han!" She greets him like an old friend, then proceeds to give him a quick hug.

The house is looking empty when he enters but as soon as your little nephew runs down the stairs, it's getting a little loud.

You kneel on the floor with your arms open to embrace little Lee as he rushes to hug you and his father comes down the stairs after him.

Your sister introduce him to your brother-in-law and Han is grateful that he's not as serious as he thought he would be just because he's a lawyer, "nice to see you!"

Not long after, your parents come down the stairs as well and greet both of you with smiles on their faces.

"Mom, dad!" You greet and hug them in turns.

He stiffens at the sight of them and he starts to get hot with all the layers of clothes he's wearing inside the house.

"This is Han," you introduce him only by his name and he guesses that you haven't given them the details yet.

Your father comes up to him first and taps him on the shoulder.

"Long trip, huh?" He asks.

"Yes, sir!"

Everyone laughs at how he sounded so rigid when he answers your father.

"Call me however you want," Your father says with a laugh and a squeeze on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're both home!" Your mother adds and firmly shakes his hand, "how are you?"

"I'm great," he shortly replies and he quickly thinks of something to say back, "you have a wonderful house!"

She brightly smiles at his compliment and places a hand on the small of his back, "it was my grandmother's," she informs.

You glance at him and sense that it's probably too overwhelming for him, you come to his side, "we're a little tired from the trip so..." you trailed your words to let them catch on your intention.

Your mother nods, "Oh yeah, sure, I have the rooms ready for you two!"

You must have noticed that it's too much for him since it's the first time he comes to your parent's house and he'll spend the rest of the holiday with your family.

You seem to mind that your mother assigned him to the room in the basement but due to your sister being pregnant, little Lee sleeps in the guest bedroom and Han sleeps in the basement.

He doesn't mind though, it's not like the two of you have been sleeping in one room anyway. He's unpacking his things when you come to see him, knocking on the door when it's already open, and sheepishly smiles when he looks at you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know that you'd be sleeping in the basement," you apologize and sit on the bed next to him.

"No, it's alright, I kind of like it."

You raise an eyebrow at him as if you just heard him wrong.

"I mean, at least I can comfortably work on my track in here," he quickly explains before you get the wrong idea or maybe the optimism in you seeps into him.

"Good to hear that!" You said, a little relieved.

"Anyway, we'll be out tonight to have a family dinner," you informed.

He's not sure if he brought anything suitable for a family dinner, all he can think about is the cold weather so he packed a lot of thick, warm clothes.

As if you sense the panic in him, you go to his other duffel bag, then pull out a black shirt and slacks that he doesn't remember he packed.

"I'll iron these for you," you said.

Thanks to you he doesn't have to worry about being underdressed for a family dinner in a fine-dining restaurant.

Also, your father is a well-respected man in town, a few people stopped by just to greet him and he got to introduce everyone at the table.

When it comes to introducing him, your father addresses him as your friend and he would glance at you to see your reaction.

By the time the main course is being served, someone comes by the table and everyone seem to recognize him as they're surprised but delighted by the visit.

"Oh, we haven't seen you in a long time!" Your mother says with a smile.

Han is the only one who is clueless about who he is, maybe a distant relative or...

"You came home!" He says to you and leans down to do what the French usually do when they greet each other.

"I've just arrived this afternoon," you told him and didn't forget to introduce him to this mysterious, charming man.

"This is Han and Han this is, Chris, he's a friend from high school," you introduced.

"Oh come on! We are more than just 'high school friends'," Chris playfully says to the entire table and earning chuckles from everyone.

Han gets up from his chair to give the man a handshake, "Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too!" He says back to him with a firm grip on his hand.

"Wow, it feels weird now seeing you all big and muscular and a what? A star athlete!" Your sister says with admiration in her eyes.

"No, I'm not!" Chris shyly denies the claim.

"We should have met a few years earlier, then I wouldn't end up marrying this lawyer," your sister jokes and causing everyone to laugh but a glare from her husband.

"We did meet a few years ago, it was you who's too late to acknowledge my presence," Chris jokes back with a charming laugh and dimples on his cheeks.

Han admires those people who know how to carry themselves and who are not shy about standing in front of a lot of people or being stared at. Ultimately, one that knows how to communicate with people without being awkward.

As everyone laughs at every witty remark Chris made, Han feels like he's shrinking into a microscopic size then he feels your hand on his thigh.

"You don't like the food?"

"Huh?"

"You haven't touched your food. I can order something else if you don't like it," you said.

He shakes his hand, "no, I'm good."

"Are you sure?" You asked.

"Yeah," he answers with a convincing smile.

It's snowing when they wait outside for the valets to get their cars, he reaches for your hand since he knows how easily you get cold.

You smile in response and hold his hand back while holding little Lee sleeping in your arms, then all of a sudden, your brother-in-law comes to him.

"I think I had too many drinks. Can you drive my car?" He asks.

"I told you to slow down with your drinking," your sister nags from behind him.

Your brother-in-law hands him the car keys without saying anything and goes inside his car the second it arrives. Han keeps staring at the car keys with blank eyes, doesn't know what to do with them but is too embarrassed to let everyone knows he doesn't have a driver's license.

"Why don't you hold little Lee for me?" You asked.

He opens his arms without complaint and takes little Lee from you, watching as you come to your dad, probably to explain the situation. He sees your dad nodding and takes the car keys, you’re probably telling them you can’t drive their car. It's just great that they now know the reason why he didn't drive is not that he doesn't know the way around the town, but he simply can't.

Han reluctantly follows you to your brother-in-law's car and sits on the passenger's side with sleeping little Lee on his lap.

Thankfully no one says anything because your sister is too busy taking care of his drunk husband but it doesn't make him less embarrassed.

He's happy to be back in his room in the basement and pities himself for being an incompetent man. How are you going to tell your family you proposed to a man like him?

The knocking on his door makes him jolt on the bed, he gets up to open it to see you standing there, carrying folded blankets in your hands.

"I brought extra blankets because it gets cold in the middle of the night," you said with a smile.

He steps aside and lets you in, watching you put the blankets on the bed and when he thought you'd be leaving after, you sit at the end of his bed.

"Is it warm enough for you?" You asked with your hand flattening the creases on the bedsheet.

"Yeah," he shortly answers and sits on the other end of the bed from you.

"Just tell me if you need anything or text me," you told him.

Well, he badly wanted to leave so you and your family can happily celebrate Christmas, with or without him, it's not going to make any difference anyway.

But he can't just leave, he knows how much you have prepared yourself considering how big of a deal this is for you. He knows you need him and he agreed to it, in conclusion, it's both of your decision to do this, therefore, he should stay here with you no matter what.

"My friends invite me for a drink tomorrow night. Do you want to go?"

You must have just put on your lotions because he can smell the shea butter scent which he's greatly familiar with. It makes him forget what you just asked him.

"Sorry?"

"Drinks with my friends tomorrow night?" You tried again.

"Ah! Drinks!"

He's not great at meeting new people but they are your friends so he doesn't see why he should worry about that, he knows the type of person you surround yourself with. Also, it's better than staying at home, especially a home that is not his.

"Sure, I'll go with you," he finally answers.

"Okay, great!" You said with a grin that shows how delighted you are that he'll be coming with you.

"Will your friend from tonight be there too?" He has no idea why he asked that, he's merely curious as to what kind of relationship you once had with him.

"You mean Chris?"

He nods.

"Maybe, I don't know but most of my friends are his friends so..." you vaguely answered.

"Your sister called him the star athlete," he says as if you weren't there to hear it too.

"Chris was the captain of the soccer team back in high school and now he's playing as a professional," you explained, "well, everyone knows that he was meant to be a star athlete."

So, aside from your family's greatness, there's this star athlete for Han to compare himself with. His head is getting dizzy from the insecurities that gnawing inside him.

"It's getting late, I'd better get back to my room," you said.

He watches as you get up from his bed and walk over to him, leaning down to land a soft kiss on his cheek, "Goodnight!"

And for a moment, all of his weariness disappeared into nothing and all he can feel is the searing kiss you planted on his cheek.

"Goodnight!" He says before you close the bedroom door.

You are cherished by your friends and it shows, from the way they welcome you with tight hugs and smiles.

Well, the friendship he has with you is enough proof of how much of a good friend you are.

"I want you to meet Han," you introduced him to your friends, again just by his name.

"Nice to meet all of you," he awkwardly tells everyone.

It's great that he doesn't have to go through the night sober, not that your friends aren't fun, it's just not his crowd.

Someone comes into the bar and there's the star athlete, taking big strides as he walks over to the table.

Your friend calls for another round of drinks and he's more than happy to take it, then gulp it down in one go.

"I heard that you're a songwriter," one of your friends tries to make conversation with him even though Han isn't sure if she's sober enough to hear his answer.

"Yes, I make tracks and music, lyrics and stuff," he nervously answers because when he puts it like that, it does sound like a fancy job but in reality, it's far from it.

"That's so cool!" She beams at him and takes a sip of her drink.

"It's not, it's a... a lot of work and staying up late, no sleep," he awkwardly refuses the compliment.

You lean to his side and join in on the conversation, "he's working on a song for a famous singer right now," you bragged to your friend.

"Who?" Your friend is getting curious.

"I can't tell you because it's supposed to be a secret," you lowered your voice at the end of your sentence.

Han snorts in response because only half of what you said is true.

"Then tell me if I've ever heard one of your songs on the radio or something," she slurs her words but sips her drink again.

"There's one, it's called 'Slump'," you told her and rest the side of your body against him.

You feel warm sitting next to him and he can smell your shampoo, your subtle yet citrusy perfume, and the twinkles in your eyes like two clear marbles.

Your friend hums the song and doing it off-key, you nod as you laugh, "That's it! He wrote that song!"

Your friend squeals like she just answered a billion-dollar worth of questions in a quiz, "Oh my God, I like that song!"

"That's so cool!" She says in awe.

You suddenly stop leaning against his body as Chris called for you, shifting your body in his direction to talk to him, leaving him to talk with your drunk friend.

It's only a little past midnight but he feels tired already and he's far from drunk, the exhaustion comes from being social longer than he can handle.

"Let's go for another round," Chris suggests, ignoring that most of the people at the table are already drunk.

You turn your head at Han and see how this is no longer comfortable for him, "I think I had enough drink for tonight," you kindly refused.

Chris laughs while pouring himself another glass, "you're barely drinking the whole night," he says.

Han notices it too, you only take small sips and when everyone was on their fifth glass, you were still on your second.

"That's because I'm driving," you told him.

"Well, I can drive you," Chris offers, smacking his lips together after drinking.

"Next time," you consoled him with an empty promise, "for now, I have to go home."

A smile blooms on Chris's face, "that's okay, we'll be meeting again soon," he confidently says.

You tip your head to the side in confusion.

"The mayor's Christmas soiree," he hints.

Then you remember that your family is always invited to that thing and that means his family too.

Watching you get up from your chair, Han does the same as well and takes his jacket from the back of the chair.

You say bye to your friends who are too intoxicated to pay attention and to Chris who's sulking at his drink.

"Don't drink and drive, Chris," you warned him.

He grabs your hand and smirks, "Are you still worrying me?"

You scoff and gently put his hand away, "just make sure you send everyone home safely," you added.

Now that feels like Han is getting between you and Chris, if only he has that damn driver's license, he would drive himself home right away. But once he lies on the bed, he closes his eyes but he can't sleep.

Then there's the knocking on his door.

"Come in!" He says in the direction of the door.

You swing the door open and smile at him, "round 2?" You asked, showing him the cans of beer in your hands.

It's like you heard his restless mind and come to rescue him, you both sitting on his bed with your backs against the headboard, drinking your beers in silence.

Han feels the need to explain something, "my track is not approved yet," he says.

"Mmh?" You glance at him while drinking your beer.

"She liked my track but she wanted me to change a few things, so..." he nervously wipes his hands on his thighs, "nothing is approved yet."

Take you a few seconds to catch on his explanation, "oh well, that means you're still working on it right?"

He sucks air through his teeth, "yeah but I'm not sure."

"Sure of what?"

"If she'll like it or not."

You catch the hand on his thigh and intertwine your fingers with his, "do you not believe in yourself?"

He's not sure about a lot of things but himself, "no."

"Then there's nothing to worry about," you said with a gentle squeeze on his hand.

"Whether she'll like it or not, you can worry about that later," you added.

That's true, all he needs to do is try his best and save the worry for later. This is why he needs you, you help him gain his confidence without making him feel pressured to do so.

"You're right," he says with a sigh.

You turn your head and squint your eyes at him, "of course I'm right," you playfully said.

Your shoulders shake when you laugh and it makes him notice how close you've been sitting next to him that he can feel the heat of your body, your knee nudges his and he catches you looking at his lips before glancing up to meet his eyes again.

"I'd better let you rest," you said while looking away.

"Are you going to leave without giving me a goodnight kiss?"

It comes out of his mouth just like that, he was supposed to say it in his head and didn't mean for you to hear that. He adds a nervous laugh because the damage has been done.

You stop on your track and turn on your heels, softly laughing while walking over to him.

You lean down to kiss him right on the cheek, a little too close to the corner of his mouth but not exactly where he wanted you to kiss him yet a soft sigh slips past his mouth.

You pull away but maintain eye contact with him, "Goodnight, Han!"

Your eyes put him in a daze and he responds a little after you close the door, "Goodnight!"

He'll never fit into this scene, among these people in their fancy suits and expensive watches.

He doesn't know anyone but you, yet your father keeps dragging you with him so he can introduce you to these important people.

"I'll fetch you a better drink!" Someone says from next to him.

He turns to see your friend, the one who got tipsy, and asked him about his song.

"Oh you're—" then he can't remember what her name is.

She smiles while taking the empty glass from him, "it's Kim."

And he feels stupid for forgetting such a general name, he follows her making a way through the crowd to the bar.

He trusts her to order him a drink of her choice until he tastes it and almost chokes on the first sip.

"It's whiskey," he says and almost spilling his drink.

"Because you can't get through this thing sober," she says and calmly sips her drink.

She takes out something from her purse, a name card then hands it to him.

"I own the cafe next to the ice cream parlor. Come whenever you like," she says.

After taking a glance at her name card, he puts it in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, "who are you coming with?"

She gestures to the man with salt and pepper hair across the room, "with my dear father," she said.

"Then why are you here with me?" He asks and he's aware that he just made himself sound so weird.

"Because I know everyone here but you, I'm curious about you," she says, holding the drink in one hand and the other resting against the counter, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Curious about me?" He stutters.

Kim puts down her glass and props a hand under her chin, "mostly about the relationship between you and my friend," she says.

Good thing that alcohol is only a sip away, "we're just friends," he coyly says but avoids her observing eyes.

She doubts his answer and smirks, "yeah I know but there's something more..."

He's good at deceiving people but not at lying, "we're just friends," he says again and that only raises Kim's suspicion.

Kim bursts out laughing, "yeah, sure," she half-heartedly says like she knows the truth.

"It's the first time she takes a guy home and not just someone's home," Kim says while nursing the drink in her hand, "it's her parent's."

Han grips his drink tight around his hand, "Yeah, well, I know her parents before this so I don't see—"

"And you know her parents are kind of a big deal in this town," she adds, calculating the assessment in her head to come to a conclusion.

She squints her eyes at him, "There's something, right?"

Someone taps your shoulder from behind and he turns around to find you there.

"Is that yours?" You asked, pointing to his drink.

He nods.

You take it from his hand and gulp it down in one go, gasping and wincing at the same time after swallowing the dry whiskey.

"I don't know how many more people my father will introduce me to," you complain and ask for another round at the bartender.

Han unconsciously puts his hand on the small of your back, acknowledging your distress and you smile at him in response.

Just like the night can't get any more interesting, Chris comes into the circle.

"Your father is looking for you," he says to you.

You sigh again and this time, Kim offers her drink to you which you eagerly drink in one long gulp.

"Nice to see you!" Chris says to Han as he takes your hand to bring you back to your father.

"Imagine dealing with that cockiness for 7 years," Kim plainly says.

"We've been friends since high school," she adds and immediately takes the drink the bartender just served.

He doesn't know why he's here and why he should be here, thankfully Kim offers him a ride home even though her sobriety level is kind of concerning.

"I'm in seven inches of heels and still waking straight, I'm good to drive!" She convinces him.

"What about your father?" He innocently asks.

"He served the country 15 years in the army I don't think he'll have a problem getting a ride home," she answers with a sassy eye-roll.

"I'll just tell her I'm leaving then," he says because it's rude to leave without telling you.

"I'll wait outside!" Kim says.

Han searches for you and it takes him a few minutes to finally be able to poke your elbow to get your attention. You excuse yourself before taking him to the patio.

"Hey, what's wrong?" You asked.

"Kim is offering me a ride home so I'm thinking of leaving with her," he meekly says.

You look at him, then sigh, "I'm sorry for taking you to this," you said.

"No, it's okay, it's alright. I got to drink for free," he says with an easy laugh.

You usually would laugh along with him but you reach for the lapels of his suit jacket and flatten them with your hands, then you lay your hands flat on his chest.

"You should wear suits more often because you look good in them," you say with your eyes intensely staring into him and the lights makes your eyes twinkle like a Christmas tree.

Can you feel his heart beating faster under your palm and see the blood rushes to his cheeks?

You slide your hands to the collar of his shirt then at once, put your hands around his neck and softly giggle.

He guesses that you're a little tipsy from the drinking that caused you to act this way, "are you okay?"

You take a step back but end up stumbling on your own foot but Han is quick enough to steady you with his hand around your waist.

Your eyes easily find him again and he can smell the alcohol-tinted breath when you lean in close to kiss him on the cheek, you give him a long kiss, longer than the previous goodnight kisses you had given him.

Then you slowly let go of your hands that have been clutching the lapels of his suit jacket, "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!" He says back and watches you taking a step back, then back into the crowd.

When he gets into the car Kim is laughing and he realizes that she witnessed the goodnight kiss thing from inside the car, "we're just friends!" He says again with a little edge on his voice, not the best way to assure someone.

"I'm not saying anything!" Kim says while turning the car keys and the car engine sputtering alive.

He tries to wake up as early as everyone else in the house and you usually wake him up when it's time for breakfast.

Except for today, he woke up a little late than everyone. He climbs the stairs with his head down, ashamed of being a slacker at someone's house. He’s glad to find you first, sitting at the dining table working on something on your laptop. You notice him coming to the kitchen and greet him first, "hey!"

He trudges to the dining room and sits across from you, "you didn't wake me up," he meekly says.

"You sleep so well and I know you've been working on the track," you explained and puts your laptop a little to the side so you can see him.

Well, it's not like he's obligated to join in every family thing, he reckons so why must he make a fuss?

"Are you working on something?" He asks, shifting the conversation.

"Just some work emails," you answered and get up from your chair.

"Where are you going?"

"Getting you a cup of coffee," you answered while walking to the kitchen, getting him a cup of coffee.

"I can do that myself," he says but, of course, you don't stop just because he said so, you cook him breakfast after.

You sit there with him as he's eating his toast and scrambled eggs, with your hand under your chin while the other hand holding your coffee mug, a smile on your face.

"Stop watching me eating!" He grumbles with cheeks full of food.

You chuckle and sip your coffee, "I like seeing you eating," you said.

"Look at those cheeks!" You poked one of his cheeks with your index finger.

He stops chewing and glares at you, "we're at your parent's house," he says with a hushed voice.

You laugh at how his eyes widened in slight panic with those cheeks, "so what?" You dared him.

He looks at you and blinks his eyes a few times, then gets back to his meal before he makes assumptions about whether you have told your parents about the proposal or not.

"Where's everyone?" He asks because the house seems quiet.

"Dad and my brother-in-law left early to play golf, they invited you of course but I had to turn it down, I told them you've been up all night working," you explained.

Before he gets the wrong idea, you furtherly explained, "I'm saving you from excruciating hours of golfing in the cold and making acquaintances with his group of friends of important, boring old people."

He sighs in relief and swallows his food at ease, "Thank you!" He earnestly says.

From across the room, Han sees little Lee rush towards you and jumps onto your lap, almost sending you off your chair.

"Aren't you a little too excited?" Han asks him.

He doesn't answer but giggles in response.

"We're going ice skating today," you explain while hugging the child on your lap and keeping him still.

"And we'll have ice cream after," you add with a grin then shake little Lee's hand, "right, buddy?"

Little Lee nods with one finger tugged between his teeth and drool pooling on the corner of his mouth.

"Do you want to come?" You invited.

To him, it seems like you're the one who's more excited about it than little Lee. That sounds nice though if only he knows how to ice skate and remembers that he has been staying the night up, it wouldn't be a great idea to come along.

"Is it okay if I pass? I didn't get enough sleep last night so..." his words trailed off.

Before he can even finish talking, you wave him off and say, "that's alright."

"You should rest, of course!"

Han feels bad for saying no, "it's just that... it won't be a good idea... me and ice skating," he awkwardly explains.

You chuckle at him, "it's okay, Han. I understand!"

He's grateful that he doesn't have to explain himself a lot to you, you understand him so well. It's convenient and nice and comfortable and...

"It'll be just us then!" You said to little Lee with a ruffle on his head.

Han woke up from his sleep around noon and the house is a little empty.

He found your mom packing gift bags in the living room and he realized he should have come with you because it's weird being in your parent's house without you.

"She's going ice skating with little Lee," your mom informs.

Han pretends that he has just heard that now just to be polite, "ah, that's why!"

"There's no one using our car if you want to go," she says, forgetting that it's not that he can't drive, he doesn't have a driver's license yet.

A moment later, your mom is aware of what she just said.

"Or you can help me pack these," she kindly asks.

He shrugs and smiles, "Sure, I don't mind at all!"

A hundred or so gift bags are packed, your mother thanks him for the help and instead of calling the taxi company, Han pulls out the name card he received last night and asks for a ride.

Kim arrives at the front gate of the house almost half an hour later, she was busy at the coffee shop but manages to come to offer him a ride.

Then he remembers he should be thanking her for doing him a favor, "thanks for picking me up!"

"No worries! I'm on a break anyway."

Kim doesn't ask much but starts driving and she drives so slowly, "so where are we going?" She asks when the car stops at traffic lights.

Would it be too pathetic for him to say that he wants to go to the ice rink and watch you ice skating? He gets the impression that Kim is the kind of person that won't let him off easily and would make fun of him for it.

"I was thinking we can hang out at your coffee shop," he settles with a simple answer.

She looks at him and squints her eyes as if she's plotting something, "you're coming with me for last-minute Christmas shopping!" She decides then flash him a teeth-baring grin.

There's a Christmas market going on in town and shopping is never his favorite thing to do but maybe with someone like Kim, it's bearable to him.

They browse things and go from one booth to another, laughing at peculiar items they found.

After getting her things and having them wrapped, Kim is taking him to her coffee shop for a cup of coffee after walking through the bustling market.

"Should we go ice skating?" Kim asks.

Han doesn't see it until Kim pointed it out, the ice rink. You're probably already done with ice skating but what's the harm in checking if you're still there?

"Of course, Chris is here!" Kim says as she stands next to him and looks at the people skating around the rink in circles.

He can easily spot him from his charming smile and cute dimples, gliding through the ice in his skate, he's holding someone by the hand, a child.

"Isn't that little Lee?" Kim asks from beside him.

He recognizes little Lee from his blushing cheeks and crooked tooth, Chris is holding his small hand, and his eyes move to see the other person holding little Lee's hand, you.

Together with Chris, you help little Lee skate with a smile on your face, laughing at how little Lee almost slipped on his skate.

That's what a picture-perfect family should be, certainly not with someone like him.

He'll never fall in that category, not even close.

Kim suddenly links her arm with his and drags him away, "Come on, it's getting cold!" She says.

Kim serves him an iced Americano and a slice of cheesecake, sits across from him then drinks her latte.

"It's on the house!" She says.

"Thanks!"

"They dated in high school, they are what everyone called the high school sweethearts. Everyone wished that they stay together after high school but now they know that this is not a fairytale," Kim suddenly comes up with an explanation or maybe the disappointment is so apparent on Han's face.

He shakes his head and cuts his cake with the fork, "why are we talking about it?" He awkwardly asks and it's only making things obvious.

"They broke up a little before graduation and went on their separate ways, it was big news. That's what happens when two influential families in town got together," she furtherly explains as if to put more salt on his wound instead of mending it.

From the look on Kim's face, he believes she's enjoying it.

"I'm not– I don't—" why he feel the need to explain it? He barely knows him therefore there's no use to tell her what he's feeling right now.

"From what I've seen, Chris is trying to get back to her but on the other hand, she has moved on from him," she boldly states like it's written on the stone.

Han nervously chuckles, a part of him wanted to believe her but the rest is doubts and it's wearing him down.

"For instance, you're totally not her type yet she's taking you here because what?"

Kim leans forward and it's making him feel like he's being interrogated for a crime he didn't commit.

"Because she likes you," she finishes.

He snorts and tries to act coy, "we're just friends," he says.

It's something to cover the fact that the reason you took him to your parent's house is that you proposed to him.

"Nuh-uh!" She refuses to believe that.

"I may not know you well but I know her really, really well!" She lifts her coffee cup close to her mouth and put on a sinister smile on her face.

Rather than feeling like he's competing on who knows you better between him and Kim, he's got this realization that despite knowing so much about you, there's always a part of you that he'll never know just like how the moon shows only a few facets to earth, but never its full sphere.

"I'll just take a taxi home," he says.

It'll be troublesome for Kim to drive him home and then back to the coffee shop when he can go home by himself.

"Gosh! Just get in!" Kim orders with an annoyed sigh while unlocking the car.

Han is about to enter the car when you come out of the ice cream parlor next to the coffee shop and he automatically squats down, hiding behind Kim's car.

He peeks through the car window to see that you're still with Chris and he's carrying little Lee who's eating ice cream on a cone.

"Kim! Are you leaving?" Chris says, putting her on the spot and too late to avoid them.

"We're about to get coffee! Why are you going?" You ask, walking towards her and Han squats lower with his back against the car door.

He closes his eyes and tries to catch their conversation.

"Yeah, I Uhm... I'm going to run some errands. Office supplies!" Kim made up excuses on the spot and covered for Han.

"I'll be back in a bit!" Kim adds and opens the car door.

"I'll be waiting inside then!" You say.

Han carefully watches you again through the car window, walking into the coffee shop with Chris following behind you.

He hurriedly sneaks into the car but slumps down so low to get out of sight while Kim can only shake her head in disbelief.

When the car is far enough from the coffee shop, Han gets back to a proper sitting position and clears his throat, suddenly aware of his action.

"Why are you hiding?" Kim asks and glares at him.

"I don't know?" he meekly replies.

"You said you two are friends but you act like two exes!" She grumbles.

"It's not like that," he tries to avoid the talk but he doesn't know how.

"It's just that... they look good together. I don't want to ruin that..." he finally admits and he sounds so small after that almost like he doesn't matter anymore.

Why is he here? What good it does do that he's here? Who is he to you?

And what are you to him?

Just a friend but you proposed to him and he agreed to it. Just a friend but his feelings are not what one should have for a friend. Just a friend but he feels so restless when it's past midnight and you haven't come to his room for some talk and a goodnight kiss.

Your parents are usually in their bedroom at this hour and your sister always sleeps early, right after putting little Lee to bed. Sometimes he met your brother-in-law in the living room watching TV.

He only needs to take two flights of stairs to get to you and so he dared himself, walking without making any noise.

Your brother-in-law is indeed in the living room watching TV but he's too focused on the soccer match to know that Han is quietly climbing the stairs to the second floor.

The struggle does not stop there, he has to walk past your parent's bedroom, and he tiptoes until he's right in front of your bedroom door.

He gently knocks on the door, just enough for you to hear but not for everyone else in the house.

Not long after, the door swung open and there he sees you, in your night dress with your hair in a messy bun, a glasses perched on the bride of your nose.

He's greatly familiar with this look, he guesses you've been working.

You don't say anything but step aside, "Come in!"

"You're working?" He asks.

You sit on the bed and pat the space next to you gesturing for him to sit there, "yeah, it's an urgent one," you look at the clock on your bedside, "I didn't know it's midnight already!"

Is it okay for him to be happy knowing that the reason you didn't come to his room is that you're busy? When the silence settles in though, he realizes that he's in your room and sitting on your bed with you.

You take your glasses off and put them away, "so, is there something you want to talk about with me or...?"

He suddenly gets a little nervous, he has an excuse prepared for this question then pulls out his phone, "the track is almost finished but I want you to have a listen," he says.

"You want me to listen?"

He nods.

"Okay," you take your headphone inside the drawer, giving him a thumb up signaling to him you're ready.

Han presses play and intently watches you listening to the track he's working on, it's not the first time he got you listening to his works.

You'll listen to the whole track instead of talking in between, when you put your headphones down, he got his ears ready to hear your opinions.

"I like it," you say.

He notices that there's more you want to say to him, "You can tell me everything," he assures, putting his phone aside and sitting facing you.

You softly chuckle, "it sounds like a love song," you finally admit.

"That's the point," he says, "she wants it to be a love song."

You prop a hand against the mattress and lean to the side, "you said you'll never make a love song."

It seems like you remember everything he said and it's true, he said that. He can and is able to make a love song but his lack of belief in love made him think that there's no use to try. A love song should deliver a feeling of what it's like being in love not convince people otherwise.

"Well," he shyly says, "I'm trying new things here."

You place your hand on his knee and gently squeeze, "and that's good," you encourage instead of bringing him down.

"As long as you enjoy doing it then what else can I say? I know you'll try your best in everything you do."

He looks down at your hand on his knee and why did he think that it's hard to reach you when it's just as easy as putting his hand on yours?

When he looks at you, you're smiling so warmly at him and he feels so comfortable in this space whenever he's with you. He feels content even when it's just the two of you.

It's not enough with him placing his hand on you, slowly slipping his hand in the spaces between your fingers, intertwining his hand with yours.

Unexpectedly, you take his other hand in yours and put them on your lap, your thumb making lazy circles on the back of his hand.

"It must have been cold in the basement," you say with an apologetic smile.

It's not about the weather or the temperature, he's nervous and his palms are getting sweaty. His insecurities always show up in a moment like this.

"Not really," he says but the images of him sleeping with two extra blankets flash through his mind.

"It's warm in here so stay for a while," you say.

Is it him or is it you but it seems like the space between your body is close to nonexistent. He can feel the heat your body emits, your intense gaze, and your warm breath brushing his...

Then he feels it, your lips, soft and warm. He closes his eyes, not moving because if he did, he's scared that this will crumble into fragments of his imagination.

He never knew that he wanted this, to kiss you, to taste you until he holds your face in his hands and wants more of it, deepening the kiss.

Both of your bodies close in the gap between you and you grab a fistful of his t-shirt in your hand, pulling him with you as you lie down on the bed.

Deeper, harder, the kiss washes away all of his weariness and peels a layer of insecurities in him.

It's possible, he says in his head.

To fall in love with your best friend.

But the knocks on your bedroom door shatter his thought away.

"Are you awake?" Someone asks from behind the door.

From the voice, it sounds like your brother-in-law and he keeps on knocking that Han has no other choice but to break the kiss.

He lets him go off you and sits at the other end of the bed while you dash to open the door but keep it open just enough to pop your head out, "yes? Can I help you?"

"Here! You left your phone in the kitchen," your brother-in-law says.

You take the phone and hold the door, "I was busy with work I forgot to take it with me."

"It keeps on ringing, I think it's Chris," he adds.

"I'll call him back, no worries."

"I'll head back then. Night!"

"Thank you and goodnight!" You say back and immediately shut the door close behind you.

You keep standing there instead of sitting on the bed holding the phone behind your back and Han takes it that it's his cue to leave.

"I better get back to my room," he says.

You catch his hand but when he turns around to look at you, you don't say anything.

"It's late. I better get back before anyone knows that I'm in your room," he says with a small smile.

"Can't you stay?" You ask with eyes that instantly got him under your spell.

Unfortunately, the sound of your phone ringtone breaks the spell.

"Goodnight!" He says, exiting your bedroom as soon as possible.

He lingers there to hear you pick up the call and faintly listens to you talking on the phone, "hey Chris, you've been calling me?"

Remembering that he shouldn't be here and eavesdropping on you, he walks back to the basement and into his bedroom where it feels exceptionally cold tonight.

He lies awake on his bed and thinks out loud if you're just a friend but why it feels more than that?

Since everyone in the house is busy preparing the festive for the Christmas dinner, Han volunteers to babysit little Lee.

He doesn't want to give you the impression that he can't do a simple favor like this when he's been staying in your house and you've been taking care of everything he needs without a word of complaint.

Besides, he's only watching over a little human who's been living for two years in existence, and as a grown man who has lived far longer and experienced more things than him, this should be an easy task.

Or so he thought.

After two hours of playing with legos, playing at the playground outside, then spending most of the time chasing him around the house, he takes back what he said.

But regardless of how tiring it was, Han enjoys spending time with little Lee, probably because he's just a toddler who doesn't ask too many questions and doesn't make him feel judged. If anything, he finds the joy of being carefree one more time, it's like going back to childhood where everything is so much simpler.

As little Lee rests his little head on his lap while watching The Grinch together on TV while sucking a bottle of milk, Han can see that his eyes are drooping. Her mother did say that it's his nap time soon.

He endearingly pats his head to lull him to sleep and the next thing he knows, he's dozing off as well and when he wakes up you're sitting next to him on the sofa, his head is resting on your shoulder.

His eyes frantically search for little Lee and you hold his hand down.

"His father took him upstairs earlier," you assure him.

He sighs in relief and rubs the sleep off his eyes, "I didn't mean to fall asleep," he explains.

"That's okay. Everything is pretty much set anyway," you calm him down.

Out of nowhere, you offer him a plate of cookies, "I bake some cookies," you offer, or more like telling him to take one to taste.

He takes one from the plate, "have you been sitting here holding a plate of cookies and waiting for me to wake up?" He asks with a laugh.

You shyly laugh and put the plate down on the table, "yeah, pretty much so," you joke.

Han laughs again to finally take a bite and chews it while you wait in anticipation for his response.

"So?"

"It's good," he honestly replies and shoves the rest into his mouth, it tastes better remembering that he just woke up from a nap and is hungry.

The surprise doesn't stop there, you bring a glass of milk for him.

"You've been sitting here with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk?" He asks in surprise and a suppressed laugh.

You nod and grin at the same time.

He takes a moment to take everything, sitting there with you and the Christmas tree blinking in the corner of the room, the snow piling outside the window, and the heat from the fireplace. Then your smile doesn't wear off as you watch him eating cookies.

He feels warm, inside and out.

"Chris and I... we're just friends now," you suddenly said out of the blue.

Han pauses chewing his cookies to listen to you speaking.

"Our break-up..." you take a shaky breath before continuing, "we were both immature at that time and we ended things pretty badly," you added.

He sees you clasping your hands together on your lap with your thumbs picking at its nails which means you're nervous and he believes it's because you're uncomfortable talking about this to him.

He breaks your clasped hands and grabs it with his, "you don't have to explain everything," he softly speaks.

You put on a small smile and continue, "I know but I also need you to know that he's been carrying that guilt for years, for dumping me, for how things ended."

You look down at your lap, "that's why he acts like that and that's why I cater to him, I thought that would lessen his guilt but..."

Turning your head to look at him, your eyes meet his in an instant, "he took it as a mixed signal and I explained everything to him. That was why he keeps calling me last night."

Now that you said all that to him, he wonders if he gave you a look that asked for an explanation from you and he feels bad for it because you don't owe him anything.

“I told him I don’t intend on getting back together with him,” you concluded.

Yet, he's unable to find anything to say because a part of him is relieved to know the truth.

"Thank you," he blurts out without thinking or maybe it's his subconscious that tells him to say that.

A smile rises on your face and it's getting overwhelming to him with the intense eye contact.

Maybe it's the atmosphere or his desires disguised as gratitude that push him to lean in and gives you a long peck on the lips.

Your eyes are still closed when he pulls away and you open them seconds later to find him looking at you.

Flustered, you look away and get up from the sofa, "I'll iron your shirt for tonight," you said then leave the room.

They're having Christmas dinner at home but everyone is dressed so formally. Not that he's complaining but it's making him nervous.

When he looks at you though, you're quite the opposite. Red dress and a sweet smile, sitting next to him on the dining table, talking so politely as your father asked you about your work.

He's happy that it's a family-only Christmas dinner but there’s a downside to it. At a big party, when it gets overwhelming, he can hide in the corner and people wouldn't notice but this, he doesn't have an escape plan for a scheme like this.

So when your father starts asking him questions, everyone's attention is on him. He felt invisible before but now he feels like he's under a big magnifying glass.

"What do you usually do on Christmas eve?"

It's a simple question but his panic gets to him, making him tongue-tied and frozen in his seat.

A warm hand grabs him under the table and he looks up to see that it's you, smiling so warmly at him.

"Han usually works during the holidays too," you answer for him.

"Oh, really? A hard-working man, I see?" Your sister inserts herself into the conversation with a teasing smile.

"He's a hard-working man," you say back without a doubt.

Han shyly smiles at your sister, then at your father, gaining a little confidence from your hand gently squeezing his, "first of all, I think it's the first time I've had such a festive dinner," he playfully remarks.

Everyone on the table chuckles and it gets easier from there, he feels silly for overreacting earlier when your family is nice and all.

After dinner, everyone gathers in the living room and talks with a glass of wine in hand, little Lee runs around and insists on opening a gift early. Maybe it's the alcohol or the fireplace or the fact that Han gets tired just from watching little Lee running around and then throwing a fuss about opening a Christmas gift early or the snowfall outside the window.

He feels so warm and the warmth fills him to the brim.

The doorbell rings and your brother-in-law is the one who opens the door, letting the person in without questions.

"Who is it?" Your mother asks.

Your brother-in-law comes in with someone else behind him, "A lost puppy!" He jokes.

Chris comes while carrying a red scarf in one hand, "I came to give your scarf back," he says to you.

But what you do is look at Han with an apologetic smile, hurriedly coming to get the scarf from him.

"Thanks! But you don't have to give it back tonight... I—"

Your words got cut off as your father hands him a glass of wine, "Come and have a drink. You must be cold!"

Since your family welcomes him, you don't have a choice but to let him in as well.

It doesn't take long for Han to become invisible all over again no one notices he just left for the kitchen but not you. You see him eating a plate of cookies alone while looking out at the window.

"I see that you're enjoying my cookies!" You said.

He gets startled and snaps his head at you, a bit surprised that you suddenly came behind him.

You start giggling at his shocked reaction, putting a hand on the small of his back to calm him down, "I'm sorry, didn't mean to startle you!" You meekly said.

He laughs at himself for being so silly, "why are you here?"

"I should be the one asking you that," you said back with squinted eyes.

"Why are you here?

He can't find anything proper to answer your question, but he believes that you know why.

"Well, you see that I'm trying to eat all of your cookies all by myself," he playfully says.

"I'm going to have a bite, then before you finish them all!" You bite the cookie he's holding.

He stares at you and it's not easy to ignore it, "why are you staring at me like that?"

He places a hand on your waist and he doesn't know when did he get this bold, "you're so beautiful tonight," he compliments.

You dare him by taking a step closer without breaking eye contact, "only tonight?"

See? It's nice when it's only the two of you and he repeatedly nods to answer your question.

"I take it that I'm cute on any other day," you said with a sly smile.

And he wanted to kiss that smile so bad.

Your hands are on his chest and his hands are on your waist, closer and closer. Your warm breath welcomes his lips but before they can touch, someone steps into the scene.

"Did you find the wine?"

You both turn around to see Chris standing there behind the kitchen island.

"Your dad is waiting!" He adds.

You and Han exchange a glance before getting off of each other.

"Uhm yes, it's here!" You take the bottle of wine you put on the kitchen counter earlier then pull open the drawer to get the wine opener.

"I'll just have to open it first!"

Why it's always him? It's always him. He doesn't mind if it's any of your family who caught him kissing you but when it's him, it just seemed like he's there just to ruin the moment.

"I'll open it for you!" Han offers first and takes the wine opener from your hand.

But Chris walks up to you and takes the bottle of wine from you, "I'll do it!" He also offers.

Han grabs the end of the bottle while Chris grabs it by its neck, "I said I'll do it!"

"I can do it faster," Chris confidently says with an intense stare, way too intense to try to win a bottle of wine.

They're caught in an intense fight for a bottle of wine but you're aware that it's more than that. They've been at it for a few minutes now, trying to get the bottle from each other. You only wish that no one is going to get hurt and from the two, you choose the one who would listen to you better.

You hold Han by the elbow to stop him, "just let him do it," you said.

But instead of letting it go, he uses all of his strength and yanks the bottle away from Chris, with the bottle all shaken up the cork pops open and it splashes all over him, creating a puddle on the kitchen floor.

Han looks up to see you giving him the look he always gets from people, a look of disappointment.

Han is half-naked and been waiting for you in the laundry room while you're going to get him a new shirt, borrowing one from your father's closet. Watching his shirt being washed inside the machine, his thoughts are swirling along and it's foaming, bubbling up inside of him.

Why is he here in the first place? Why would you ask him to come with you? So your family knows what a loser he is? Or so you can show that role model of a man called Chris?

The sounds of your footsteps derail his train of thoughts but not his anger.

"I hope it fits you," you said, holding a new white shirt and opening the button one by one with your hands.

He holds out his hand, asking for the shirt from you but you get behind him and holding the shirt for him so can easily slip his hands into the sleeves. You turn him around and start buttoning up the shirt with the constant whirring of the washing machine playing in the background.

"You should have proposed to him instead of me," he says with an edge to his voice.

"Chris is handsome and he's nice and he's an athlete, I'm pretty sure he makes a lot of fortune than me."

But you ignore his words and continue buttoning his shirt in silence, not batting an eyelash at his words.

"Your family likes him too," he adds.

Once you finished, you turn around to face the washing machine, putting the fabric softener into its container.

"You shouldn't have taken me here," he sadly says.

You slam the container shut and turns around, "did I ask how much money you make?"

The room is dim with the only source of light coming from the light bulb but he can see that your eyes are glossy.

"Do I ever physically compare you with someone else? Do I ask you to have a stellar career? "

Each question feels like a needle prickling his skin and it hurts.

"Have I ever made you feel like I'm patronizing you? Have I ever..." you paused to catch a breath, "have I ever made you feel that way?"

He tried to speak his thoughts out loud just in case you have made a mistake in choosing him, he wants to enlighten you by laying out all the facts but he didn't mean to make you cry like this.

You clasp your hands together and look down, "is it wrong of me wanting you to know my family better so you can get close to them, to the people I love?"

He regrets it instantly, he regrets doubting your intentions. He takes a step closer, "that's not what I mean," he quickly says.

A tear rolls down your cheek and you immediately wipe it with the back of your hand.

"Please, don't cry!" He begs and searches for your eyes so he can look at you, properly look at you so you wouldn't take his words the wrong way. When he finally sees you, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.

You clear your throat before speaking and lean against the washing machine, "When I think about it... it's not me and it's not my family, it's not Chris," your broken voice echoes in the room.

"It's you!" You poked his chest with your index finger and it feels like a dagger digging into his flesh.

"You're creating problems that aren't there and I'm not responsible for that!"

And you make a deep cut with that dagger as you drag your finger across his chest, he can visibly imagine fresh blood oozing out of it.

Crimson red, almost the same color as the red wine splashed all over him earlier.

"So if you still want it," you wipe the tears on both of your cheeks with your hands, "please get out of your own way!"

You walk past him and brush shoulders with him, climbing the stairs, leaving him with all of his guilt, bleeding alone in the dark.

The truth will always be a hard pill to swallow.

But he has to take it no matter what if he wants to heal, if he wants things to be alright.

As he tries to swallow it all down, he's dragging himself back upstairs, knowing that he's too embarrassed of himself.

He knows he's making himself a loser because you're right, he created all those problems himself.

It seems like Chris already left because he doesn't see him around but he stays by the doorway, watching your family having a great time together in the living room.

He wonders how he ever thought ill of them when they're all fine and have been treating him nicely since day one.

He can't find you downstairs so he figures you must be upstairs in your room, probably still crying because of him.

It's no time to overthink, he needs to go and apologize to you, so he climbs the stairs to only find your sister comes out of her room with hands holding her baby bump.

"We have to go to the hospital!" She says.

"Huh?"

"Help me get downstairs!" She asks, putting an arm around his shoulder for support.

"Sure! Sure!" He says with a panicked voice.

He remembers that your sister said her baby is due next month but from what he sees, it seems like she's going into labor soon.

She starts calling for her husband as soon as she made it down the stairs and he comes to her in a few seconds, bleary-eyed and cheeks red probably from alcohol.

"We need to go to the hospital!" She says.

"But I— I drank—" he stutters with his alcohol-tinted breath can be smelled from where Han is standing.

Your sister hits him on the shoulder repeatedly, "I told you not to drink—"

She stops wasting her energy on hitting him and starts calling for you. You come from the direction of the kitchen with your eyes still red and a little puffy.

"Yes?"

"Drive me to the hospital! Quick!" Your sister says while still clutching at Han instead of at his husband.

You don't say anything but quickly grab the car keys and coats, running to the garage to get the car ready by the front of the house.

The family got panic as well and little Lee starts hugging Han by his leg, knowing that his parents have to go.

"Please, take care of little Lee!" Your sister says before she gets out of the door.

Your mother takes little Lee upstairs to put him to bed early while he stays downstairs with your father.

He's never good around parents but the silence is suffocating him, not that he doesn't want to talk but he's afraid of saying the wrong things to him.

He's probably not good at being in a crowd but he's not good at talking eye to eye either.

But he convinces himself that this is what he wanted as well.

He wanted this so he grits his teeth and just does it, coming to the living room, sitting across from your father.

"Sir, I have something to say," he begins with hands balled into fists on his knees, hiding his sweaty palms.

"Sure, go ahead!" Your father says.

He closes his eyes for a moment and convinces himself that this is what he wanted.

Therefore, just like you said, he must get out of his way.

Han waits for you to get home. He waits in the kitchen by himself until the coffee he's drinking is getting cold.

When the car lights flash through the window, he knows that it's you. He runs out of the door and sees you sitting inside the car, putting the scarf around your neck before getting out.

You look surprised to see him standing outside the front door.

"Why are you still awake?" You asked.

He walks up to you, "I'm waiting for you," he simply answered.

You shove your hands into the pockets of your coat and he understands why you're so defensive.

"Take a walk with me?" He asks.

You nod.

The night is so quiet that he can hear the crunch of the snow on every step you take and every breath you take.

"How's your sister?"

"She's having contractions but the doctor is not yet to decide whether she'll be going into labor soon or not," you explained, "she needs to stay in the hospital for further observation."

He sighs in relief, "I was so panic when she came to me," he says, remembering how shocked he was seeing your sister wincing in pain.

"Why were you there in the first place?"

"I was looking for you," he shortly replies.

Somehow the snow starts falling again as you stop on your track, standing there to face him, looking at him but he can't tell what you're looking for in him.

"I was so harsh to you," you said with half of your face covered in your scarf but be can see the regret drawn on your face.

"No, you're right," he says.

He's facing you and taking his hands out of his jeans pockets, "I created this in my head because why would a person like you want to be with me?"

He takes your hand out of your coat pocket so he can hold it, "you're so beautiful and smart and your family is so wonderful. I don't know if I deserve this."

When he puts it like that then yes, it makes sense that he got so insecure about himself and you understand why he acted like that.

You hold his hand back and stare into his eyes, shining under the streetlight, "I want you because you're my best friend."

There's nothing truer than that. You want him because he's your best friend, the only person who loves you in his own way and asks for nothing in return, you both have a sense of belonging to each other's but without having to own.

All the while, Han learns that love is not always what two lovers have. Love is there for anyone with open hearts and open arms and it's a good thing that he is ready to embrace it all.

So he kisses you under the night sky with flurries of snow swirling in the air and the cold of the night that brings you together.

You put your hands around his neck while he holds you close and kisses you more, taking your breath away as snow piling on top of your head.

Noticing that you're getting cold, he breaks the kiss and holds your hand, "Let's get inside!"

Back inside the house, you both struggle to get away from each other. None of you want to stop kissing as both of you make your way to his bedroom. You stop walking at the base of the stairs and be the one to break the kiss first, "do you bring any condoms?"

Why did he get flustered by such a simple question? He's an adult and a responsible adult should bring one because who knows that something like this would happen.

You laugh because he stays quiet and not answering your question.

"Why don't you wait inside and I'll get some from my room?"

He nods.

"I'll be back soon," you give him a peck on the lips and back to climbing the stairs.

In the bedroom, Han doesn't know what to do with himself.

He thought of taking his clothes off but that would be presumptuous of him. Should he sit on the bed? Should he lie down on the bed? Should he brush his teeth first?

Who the fuck brushes his teeth before sex?

He gets even more nervous with every minute passed that he's pacing around the house, feeling stuffy but refusing to loosen his tie.

Then the door swung open.

It's the first time that you come to his room without knocking and he sees the reason why. You come into the room in your silk robe and all of your hair down, you must have applied a fresh coat of red lipstick because your lips look so fucking luscious like a freshly picked apple and he wants to take a bite.

It's like he's drawn to you, he approaches you but maintains a safe space. Another step closer and he would probably pounce at you like a wild animal.

You put down a box of condom on his bedside table and it's enough to make his imagination goes haywire. You stop right in front of him and take his hands, putting them close to your body.

"Open it!" You softly spoke and it sounded like you just cast a spell to him that his body obeys your words, untying your robe.

He pauses for a moment before parting the robe open and thinks so hard. Is it okay to open such a gift when it's not Christmas yet?

He'll take his chances and take the robe off of you, letting it dramatically fall onto the floor. His eyes focus on your face and resist seeing lower than that because he knows he would lose his calm.

You lay your hands flat on his chest and slowly slide them up, holding the collar of his shirt while looking up at him through your lashes.

"Let's make it fair, mmh?"

It was a few hours ago that you put the shirt on him and now you're the one who also takes it off of him, slides it off his body then puts it aside. His skin feels hot as you place your hand on his chest, touching him with just your fingertips yet it feels like you set him on fire.

You glide your hands down his abdomen and rest them on each side of his waist, bringing your mouth close to his ear and whispering, "You can touch me too you know."

But his hands are stuck to his sides and you ended up putting them around you.

It's obvious that he's nervous and you don't want to force him to take things further, you press your forehead against him, then ask, "should we continue or...?"

He closes his eyes and softly exhales, "I didn't know that badly wanted this until now," he answers with a breathless laugh.

You hug him and laugh into his shoulder, holding him close until he softens around you, wrapping his arms around you.

From there, he slides down the strap of your bra to make a long trail of kisses on your bare shoulder. He drags his mouth to your neck, kissing down the column of your throat and making you softly whimper into his hair.

He's only getting started but he's drunk in the natural scent already that he needed to take a breather in between, looking at you and cupping your face in his hands, then kissing you more.

The sound of his belt hitting the floor makes him aware that your hands are working open his slacks and you're unzipping them in a painstakingly slow motion like the tension isn't unbearable enough. You let it fall down his legs and pooling around his ankles while you crash your body with his, kissing him again.

He envelopes you this time, putting his hands around you and kissing you back, needy yet tenderly.

With your hands on his chest, you steer him to the bed and push him down, making him sit on the edge of the bed. He takes a second to take his pants out of the way and pulls you close, inviting you to sit on his lap.

"I didn't know you have this many muscles," you said with an impressed smirk.

His muscles are firm and contracted when you put your hand on them, your hands seem to hesitate to go lower than his abdomen.

"You sound disappointed," he seems.

You briefly kiss him on the lips, "hmm... a little," you joked.

He understands that well because he has been with you for these past few years and tonight, he realizes that there's a lot that he's yet to discover about you. That you have an alluring body, every part of it lures him to touch, to taste and he's more than eager to cater to it. You have a tiny little tattoo on your ribcage of an outline of a heart and you have a mole right above your navel. Your skin is warm and soft with a scent that gives him a sense of comfort he doesn't get anywhere.

He has just so much to say about you that he can't find the words to verbalize his thoughts.

"Can you take this off of me?" You asked as you put his hand on your back.

"Okay," he answers, unclasping your bra and taking it off of you as you asked him to.

How can he avoid seeing those breasts when they're right in front of his eyes? He uses his hands to cup your breasts then uses his fingers to touch your hardening buds. He uses his mouth next and fills his mouth with ample flesh, gently sucking, and teasing your nipples with his tongue.

How can he stop when every part of you satisfies all of his senses?

Your body is unknown water, uncharted territory yet he dares himself to explore so he lays you down on the bed, so eager to discover more of you.

He catches a breath while admiring your naked body against the white sheet, flustering under his lustful gaze.

You take his hand and bring it close to your mouth, making him feel your lips under his fingertips, then you put his two fingers into your mouth.

He can't tell which one is hotter, the inside of your mouth or how you suck his fingers with your eyes fixed on him.

Slowly, you pull his fingers out of your parted mouth, wet with your saliva and you take his hand to where you wanted him the most.

"Touch me there," you said as you put his hand between your open legs.

When he thought you're going to let go of his hand, you keep your hand on his and start making a circular motion right on your clit.

"Like this," you added.

You're so delicate that it feels like he's touching a flower and it’s blossoming under his touch.

He continues touching you how you wanted it as you pull his head close to kiss him, moaning into his mouth as he applies gentle pressure on your clit. If not kissing you, he kisses your neck, and your chest, taking your breast in his mouth and continues sucking on your nipple.

With your moans growing louder, he's sure that he's doing well down there. Confidently and carefully, he inserts two fingers into you. You grip his shoulder as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you.

"How about that?" He asks as he looks down at you, "do you like it?"

You hastily kiss his mouth and gasp, "I like it so much," you answered.

The room that is usually cold feels intensely warm that night with your moans bouncing around the walls, replacing the quietness with your lustful noises. His hand is drenched with your essence, it tells him that you're getting close to your climax.

Your back is arching and your eyes are screwed shut, biting your lower lip to try to muffle your moans even though you know that's useless.

"So close," you told him, burying your head into his chest.

Han keeps going with the same move but adds more speed but his eyes are focusing on you, doesn't want to miss the sight your face would make as he makes you cum with his fingers.

"Cum," he says with his lips grazing your cheek.

He presses a sloppy kiss on your jaw, "flood my hand," he adds.

You try to stop his hand from keep going only tells him more that you're on the brink of orgasm.

"Cum," he whispers, casting the spell right into your ear.

And you let go, holding on to him as you cum right into his hand.

After a moment, you lay back on the bed with your eyes closed, jaws slacked open while you try to catch your breath.

Fuck! He did that, he just made you cum with his hand and he wonders if he do that again.

Suddenly you pull him by the neck to kiss him, rolling on the bed and kissing him until you both run out of breath.

"Condom?" You reminded him.

"Yeah, condom," he foolishly repeats your word and reaches for it on his bedside table.

You snatch it from him, "I'll do it," you volunteered.

Well, he doesn't have any reason to say no but lowers his boxer, revealing his stiff member at you.

You silently giggle after taking a glance at it then say, "you're so hard."

Isn't it obvious that you're the cause that his cock is fully erected with a shining bead of precum leaking on its tip? But he doesn't want to give you the satisfaction of letting you know that, he shrugs and smirks instead.

You crawl over and sit on his thigh, ignoring the fact that he can feel your wetness against his leg.

Instead of putting on the condom, you put your finger on the tip of his cock and lightly circled it, smearing the precum all over, then delightfully having a taste of it.

"I wonder..." you said, didn't bother to finish your sentence but putting all of your hair to one shoulder and slowly taking his cock in your mouth.

"Ah... fuck..." he didn't mean to curse out loud like that and he quickly gets a grip of himself.

He can feel your tongue swirling around his cock before letting it go.

"Do you want me to continue?" You asked.

Truthfully, he doesn't give a damn. Whether it's your mouth or anywhere else, it's a win for him as long as it's with you.

"Later?" You asked again.

He takes a breath before answering, "However you like."

You tip your head to the side and smile, without saying anything unwrapping the foil packet in your hand and rolling the condom down his cock without a hassle whatsoever. You lean in close to him and kiss him on the lips, "want you inside me now," you innocently said, in contrast to the favor you asked of him.

Having sex with your best friend? It gives him the ick just from thinking about it.

But that was him a few months ago.

Now, as he's fucking you deep and steady while you squirm and moan under him, he thinks that this is the hottest sex he's ever had and he's not even close to cum.

The fact that you're his best friend tells him that he can trust you and that somehow elevates the intimacy.

"Han..." you breathlessly called him.

He responds with a haste kiss on the corner of your lips, "mmh?"

"You can cum," you said to him, allowing him to cum since you already cum earlier.

He plans on going as long as possible because you just feel so fucking good but that's also the reason why he can't last long. It’s just too fucking good!

He picks up the pace and relentlessly thrusting into you, kissing you while he keeps chasing his high until he's free falling into endless pleasure.

You hold him close as he continuously whimpers, staying still with his cock still inside you, filling the condom with his cum.

"Are you okay?" You asked with a kiss on his lips.

He inhales air through his mouth and exhales it at once, "more than okay," he answers as he drops his head onto your chest.

After gathering all of his senses back, he finally gets to look at you and sees you're smiling at him. He suddenly cracks a laugh.

"What?" You asked, curious about what he's laughing at.

"Fucking your best friend," he says in disbelief and cracks another laugh.

You laugh along and nod at his remark, "I know right?"

Maybe once didn't feel real enough so you initiate another round and who he is to refuse your offer? It's just exactly what he wants.

"Let's take it slow this time," you said, then slowly lowering yourself down his cock.

He sees how your parted mouth lets out breathless moans all the while he's holding you by your waist. How come you still feel this good?

When he's fully sheathed in your velvety walls and he feels all of your weight on him, oh... it's pure unadulterated pleasure.

"Ouch!" You yelped as he grips your waist too hard that his nails dug into your skin.

"Sorry," he immediately apologizes and puts his hands around you instead.

You start by slowly rolling your hips and doing it without holding back your moans.

He's glad that the two of you doing it in the basement and not in your room, or else he would be having problems trying to muffle the noise you make. He can't ignore it too, you're so tight and warm and you keep sucking him deeper as you start moving on his lap.

You change paces a few times and if it's not that, you add more intensity to your movements. You said to take it slow but he can't tell if he can do that, heck! He doubts he can last longer than the previous session.

As if you heard his cry for help, you take pause and kiss him so tenderly. You taste the same as a piece of gum that doesn't lose its sweetness with every chew.

But it's you who tugs his lower lip between your teeth and gently pulls it down, giggling so cutely like what you did does not affect him.

"Chris is so stupid for dumping you," he doesn't know why but it crossed his head just like that. It's just that you're so smart and beautiful and kind and sexy and fucking him so good and Han doesn't get why he dumped you. The only conclusion is he's fucking stupid.

"Yeah, fuck Chris!" You playfully added to his remark.

"No, don't!" He hastily says.

"No?"

"Yeah no, don't fuck him!" He says while shaking his head.

Your warm breath brushes his cheeks as you laugh, "how about fuck you?"

He notices the wry look on your face and he likes it, how it implies that you're up to no good.

"Yeah, fuck me indeed," he says.

He kisses you hard as you start moving again, pulsating your hips against him, taking his cock deeper into you and sending him close to his high. But seeing you enjoy fucking him is what arouses him the most. You look so vibrant and alive and fucking attractive.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful!" He blurts out with dreamy eyes looking into you.

"Let's cum together," you said.

With your hands on his shoulders as support, you pick up the pace. He helps by guiding you by your waist and bucking his hips from under you.

"I'm close, I'm close," you repeatedly said with eyes screwed shut.

"Good cause I can't hold it much longer," he gladly admits.

You manage to put on a smirk while both of you try to chase your highs together and when you do, you melt into him.

Despite the cold, both of your bodies are coated with a thin layer of sweat. Despite the sticky skin, your bodies tangled together on the bed.

"We should have done it a long time ago," you sigh on the top of his head.

Han looks at you and says, "I agree."

He kisses you and continues the kiss down your chest, stopping there at the valley of your breasts. He holds you like that for a moment, indulging himself in the warmth of your embrace as you slip your hand into his hair, fingertips softly scratching his scalp.

He's listening to the sound of your heart beating and he feels just as alive. He's never been sure of himself but this is where he wants to rest his head at the end of the day for the rest of his life, close to your heart.

He tilts his head to look you right in the eyes and he wonders why he ever doubted you when you're the only thing that's certain in his life.

It's Christmas morning and yes, he can see that the snow starts falling again from the little window.

He turns his head to see that you're already awake as well, "good morning," he sleepily greets you.

You smile at him before answering, "morning!"

Now that your eyes have met, you lean in close to each other and kiss.

You shyly smile when you pull away but nestle your head further into his neck, "how do you sleep in this cold?" You asked.

He pulls the two layers of blanket and covers your bare shoulder with it, deciding that it's best to pass the question when the cold now has its perks.

He turns his whole body to face you and holds you close, looking at your bare face but that only makes him want to kiss you more.

So he did, he kisses your lips and cheeks and forehead and then your lips again, longer than the previous one.

"I'm so happy," you said.

Han puts away the strands of hair from your face, "yeah?"

You nod, "I'm happy that I get to wake up on a Christmas morning with you."

Just like everyone else, Han has a list of favorite things he keeps in his head but this, you saying that you're happy waking up on a Christmas morning with him with a bright smile on your face would go straight to the top of the list.

"I don't know about you but this is the best Christmas gift I've ever received," he said with a peck on your lips.

"What? Fucking your best friend?" You poked fun at him.

"Yeah, that too," he jokes back and pulls you closer.

He glances at the clock on his bedside table and usually, everyone in the house is already awake at this hour. It just hits him now that the two of you had sex at your parent's house and the possibility that someone might hear the noises scares him.

You recognize the horror on his face, "what?"

"Shouldn't we go upstairs since it's Christmas and your family is probably already... ?" he can't finish his sentence but gulps air to relax.

"Well, yeah..." you answered.

"But maybe a few more minutes? It's warm and nice and I still want to cuddle with you," you said with a pair of pleading eyes.

Deep down, he knows he's prone to your charms, always have and he believes, always will.

Almost half an hour later, you are both dressed and ready to go upstairs for breakfast. You stop when you see the book you told him to put in his backpack.

You take it and hand it to him, "your Christmas present!"

"Huh?" He takes the book with eyebrows knitted together.

"Open the book!" You ordered.

He obeys and it flips right to a part where a letter is tucked between the pages.

He takes it out and looks at it in curiosity, "What is it?"

You shrug.

He opens the letter and unfolds the paper inside, it's a receipt for a purchased desk.

"It's a new desk," you said since he's slow on processing it.

"Oh?"

"It'll be delivered when we get back," you added.

He shyly smiles because he always said he will buy a new one but didn't have time to do it. It's a little surprising because when he thinks about it, he's been keeping his Christmas gift with him this whole time.

"Thank you!" He sincerely said.

"You're very welcome!" You said back.

Fortunately, no one catches you coming together from the basement and walking past the living room to see little Lee too excited to open his gifts, impatiently ripping them open while sitting crosslegged on the carpeted floor still in his pajama.

Your father is also there, watching over him while sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Merry Christmas, dad!" You said with a quick hug.

"Merry Christmas!" He follows suit but skips the hug, he wants to respect his private space.

Your mother joins in after, bringing a tray of toast and pastries. You go to the kitchen and return with mugs of coffee in your hands, having breakfast together in the living room.

He sits next to little Lee and plays together with his new toys while watching you exchange gifts with your parents.

A new leather belt for your father, a pair of beautiful silk scarves for your mom, and a new set of legos for little Lee while you keep the ones for your sister and her husband aside.

It takes you a minute to find the gift he puts under the Christmas tree for you.

Your face lights up when you recognize his handwriting on the wrapper, "you didn't tell me!"

He shrugs and smiles.

You neatly unwrap it and carefully do not tear right through the content inside, finding a leather case for your drawing utensils.

He knows the one you use right now is worn-out and you need a new one.

"Oh, this is... this is very nice!" you cooed and not hesitating to kiss him on his cheek.

"Thank you!" you said while holding it close to your chest.

While Han freezes there that you just kissed him right there, in front of your parents.

He silently takes a look at them, but none of them seem to mind, they're busy talking about the piling snow outside.

The festivities don't last long since everyone has to get ready to go to the hospital to visit your sister.

Han puts the bags of food and change of clothes your mother packed into the back of the car.

Before getting in, he makes sure little Lee is safely tucked in his baby seat.

You're warming up the car as you wait for your parents to come out of the house.

"About the proposal..." you began.

Han pauses as he's about to click his safety belt in place, "Yeah?"

"We can just tell them next time," you said.

You look ahead at your parent's house, "I wasn't aware of how much pressure I put on you so let's just take things slowly.”

You turn your head at him with an apologetic look, "and I'm sorry," you earnestly apologized.

The hospital is a little emptier than usual and it's a good thing. That means a lot of people are celebrating Christmas in their homes with their families in good health.

But it's also sad to see some people sick in their hospital beds on a day like this.

He comes into your sister's room a little late, carrying bouquets of flowers for your sister as a substitute for a Christmas gift.

"This is for you," he says, handing one of the bouquets to your sister.

"I hope you'll recover soon!" he sincerely wishes.

Your sister gladly takes it from him and puts it as far away as possible from little Lee's reach, "Thank you so much, Han!"

He smiles in response.

"And the other one?" Your sister asks, eyeing the other bouquet in his hand.

You also look at it and give him a puzzling look.

"It's for you," he says, holding out the bouquet to your mother and waiting for her to take it from him.

She gives him a sweet smile before taking it from him, "aw, thank you!"

His palms start to sweat and he wipes them to the back of his pants, swallows hard before taking a stand among your family, one deep breathe later, he starts speaking.

"Now that all of your family is here, I have something to say."

He can feel sweat form on his back and all these pairs of eyes are on him, making him even more nervous.

Your eyes widen and there's a layer of concern on your face, guessing what he’s going to say but at the same time have an inkling of what it is about he would likely announce.

"Han..." you said with a concerned tone.

He takes your hand and pulls you to stand next to him, holding on to your hand like it's a lucky charm. He looks at you again and gains a little confidence.

"Last night, I asked your father for permission to propose to you," he says.

Everyone let out collective gasps but the ones from your mother and sister are the loudest.

You squeeze his hand and look at him in disbelief, confusion is visibly drawn on your face. You must be surprised because it's so unexpected.

He licks his dry lips before continuing, "I'm going to ask you..."

He takes your other hand and holds them both in his hands, "Will you marry me?"

You crack a laugh of disbelief but your eyes start to water, there’s a dead silent going on and everyone else is holding their breath waiting for your answer.

"Just say yes already!" Your sister impatiently chimes in.

"Shut it!" you shout back.

You look back at him and laugh again, it's the fact that he did it so unexpectedly that makes you so speechless.

"Yes," you said while nodding repeatedly.

He's too nervous to hear you the first time, "Huh?"

"She said yes!" Your brother-in-law shouts a little loud that a nurse who was walking past the room glares at him.

"Sorry, it's just that someone proposed to my sister-in-law!" he apologizes with a cringing smile.

Everyone laughs and cheers at a moderate volume while you crash into his hug, "are you trying to be cool, huh?"

"No, I was trying not to faint," he answers a little too honestly.

Everyone burst into a laugh and start congratulating both of you, there's no champagne but your mother starts passing apple juice in paper cups.

Your father leads the toast and a little before that, you interrupt with a confession, "for your information, I was the one who proposed to him first."

He pulls you to his side again and looks at you, this time, he doesn't hesitate to kiss you on the lips right in front of your family.

When he pulls away, you grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him more.

"Oh my God, there's a child here!" Your sister reminds you while covering little Lee's eyes with her hand.

But you're too happy to care and hug him again.

"Is that how you feel when you proposed to me?" He asks with a low voice that only you can hear him.

"Why? you feel like dying?" you joked.

"yeah," he innocently answered, "but of happiness."

You smile at his answer and put your hands around him, "exactly like that."

He understood now why you needed his answer that badly and he can't explain how happy he is right now but he guesses it also comes from the fact that the happiness is not only his but also everyone else's in the room.

Maybe this is why it truly is the happiest season.

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