#feel free to call me out on it I know it's bad

[senigami-yltsom]

Miss July, you’ve done it again

To start, I love how you catch the reader up with the vibe of the day we’ve been having in such simple yet effective ways. The tedious interruptions and misfortunes piling up minute by minute, leading us to really being right there with reader, curled up on the couch and exhausted.

The readers actions/thoughts also feel very real. Her wanting to throw her phone but not because it wouldn’t be worth the damage, leaving the phone on the ground when it got to be too much effort to get it…

This fic also does a really nice job establishing where in the relationship the two are without saying it too directly. Hinting at it with their dialogue and tone towards each other went a long way.

Jason’s “…not even me?” broke my heart omg. I can picture that so clearly coming from him and also hearing it from the readers side.

“It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.”

I’m having trouble verbalizing why I love this but I do. That’s so—that’s so jason. That paragraph shows a deep understanding of your characters and their relationship, not only within just the context of the two of them, but their relationship with others as well.

“”I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.”

He’s so awkward and scared to be in love I love him. The way you wrote him is so sweet and thoughtful, I think it’s a very accurate take on what jason would be like in love. Not to mention, I can see all of it playing out like in a movie—you do that really well.

Ugh he’s such a loverboy deep down and you did an amazing job representing that side of him here.

dark chocolate cherry

i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]

jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is supposed to be earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but i think she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful)

The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gotham’s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they weren’t tuning out.

The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.

From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.

By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.

At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the day’s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.

Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, you’re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.

Jason About to leave Be there in 20

You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. You’re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.

You I can’t tonight anymore I’m sorry I don’t feel great

After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. You’re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, you’re not sure you’re ready for him to see you like this. You’ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.

Your phone’s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost don’t hear it. Jason’s photo is displayed on the screen.

Your hanging hand clicks ‘answer’ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine, I just don’t feel up for going out tonight. I’d rather stay home.”

“Did something happen?”

“No, I just got my period so I’m not really in the mood.”

“Okay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.”

“No, Jason…I want to stay home alone tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay…did I do something?” His voice comes out a little smaller.

“No, you’re fine, I promise. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”

“…Not even me?”

Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you don’t want him to see you.

“Jason…it’s not you. I just…I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, I’m miserable and sad and angry at everything, I’m breaking out all over.” You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. “I’m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anything…I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.

The phone is quiet for a long moment.  Then; “I could never find you disgusting,” he says, gently. “But if that’s what you want, then we’ll reschedule.”

“Thank you. And sorry.”

He speaks with a tone you can’t quite parse. “Don’t apologize. Just feel better.”

-

-

-

It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.

“Jason, I told you not to come here,” you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like they’re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.

He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.

“I’m sorry…I know you said not to come, but…” his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; he’s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream carton’s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.

“I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.

You just stare at him.

He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll—”

Then, you burst into tears.

Jason’s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, I’m so sorry—” He’s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.

He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.

“Okay, I—I’m leaving now. I’m leaving. Do you…want this?” He holds the bag out to you.

With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.

“Did you—hic—buy me groceries?”

“Yeah…” There’s a wince in his tone, as if he’s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.

You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, but…you have no idea what to make of the rest.

The bag drops back to his side. “I figured…it’s just— it’s the stuff that you’re supposed to—” He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. “I mean I’m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now I’m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Jason,” you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you can’t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. You’re half expecting this to be a fever dream that you’re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.

“—because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I do—”

“Jason.”

“And you— yeah?” His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.

“Right, yeah, I just thought that…maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when they’re…menstruating.” He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.

You can’t help it; you start to giggle. You can’t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ‘menstruating’ in a non-medical context. And the fact that he’s so shy about it— upset as you may be (though not at him), there’s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.

“It’s not that funny,” he mutters.

You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.

“Sorry I’m such a mess,” you murmur into his shirt.

He breathes into your hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. And you’re not a mess.”

You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.

"Thank you for the food,” you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I just…” He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. “I really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you don’t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.

“You didn’t.” A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. That’s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.”

“That doesn’t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.”

With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.

At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.

You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.

“I need to go back inside. I’ve been away from my heating pad for too long.”

His shoulders sag when you step away from him. “Oh, um…do you still…want me to leave?”

With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. He’s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.

He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.

Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads what’s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. There’s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.

You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. “You got me…cheddar cheese?”

He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. “Good for certain symptoms.” He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. “They all are,” he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.

You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything he’s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, “I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t have the energy to make anything good.”

But he just smiles and says, “That’s what I’m here for, honey. Can I make you something?”

You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ‘just dropping this off’ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadn’t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.

“Where is this from? Did you buy this today?” You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.

He doesn’t look up from the carrots he’s dicing. “Uh…no.”

Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.

You let out a laugh. “Jason, you’re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?”

“No! Not at all,” he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.

“Then?”

“‘Then’ what?” He asks.

“Then why are you being so shifty right now?” You try to catch his gaze.

“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just chocolate! Do you like it? I’ll bring you more.” He’s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost can’t notice how hard he’s trying not to make eye contact.

“Jason!” You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.

“It’s…” His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.

“What was that?” You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.

“It’s Bruce’s.” He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. “I…found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then I…kept taking it. Every time I visited.”

You pout teasingly. “And you’re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?”

He doesn’t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.

“You are so adorable, you know that?” You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but there’s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.

He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.

He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.

He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.

when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle

also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)

divider is from here

quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3

[hmusunoo]

DIET PEPSI | K.TH

SYNOPSIS 》 Homework, exams, parents expecting the world from you and more, you just wanted a break. Better yet, you needed one. And who better than getting the resident campus bad boy plug Taehyun to help you out with that.

PAIRINGS 》 plug!taehyun x goody two shoes fem!reader

WARNINGS 》 plug taehyun, drug use, reader is really awkward and innocent she know's nothing about drugs, brief mentions of overbearing parents, unprotected sex, dry humping, car sex, corruption kink, loss of virginity, taehyun is a little bit of an asshole, cowgirl, slight hair pulling, not really proof read.

WORD CNT 》 6.3k

LIBRARY & BOOKSHELVES

You sit at your desk, the glare of your laptop screen searing into your eyes as you attempt to focus on yet another problem set. The numbers blur together, taunting you with their complexity. To your right, your history textbook lies open, mocking you with its dense paragraphs of information you’re supposed to have memorized by tomorrow. The clock ticks steadily in the background, a relentless reminder that time is slipping away. Your parents’ voices echo in your mind, a cacophony of expectations. "You have to be the best. We’re counting on you."Their words are like invisible weights, pressing down on your chest, making it harder to breathe.  

You don’t remember the last time you felt truly free. Even when you’re not studying, the guilt lingers. Shouldn’t you be doing more? Shouldn’t you be better? The questions swirl in your head, their answers always out of reach.And so, you sit there, the cursor blinking impatiently on your half-written essay, while your stomach churns from too much coffee and too little sleep. The thought hits you suddenly: This isn’t sustainable. You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, but the words and numbers are still there, painted on the insides of your eyelids.

You need to breathe. You need to escape.

The idea comes to you like a whisper, soft but insistent. Remembering what Sakura told you earlier in the day, about the one guy in school you never thought to talk to before. Kang Taehyun. He was no good, he was what everyone around town and campus called a waste of space. You had half a mind to text Sakura asking for his number. The thought feels almost rebellious. You didn’t know a single thing about weed or how to smoke it. All you knew was that he was the one person around here you could get it from. 

Would he even sell it to you? You didn't know, but you were going to try. You grab your phone before you can second-guess yourself. You sent her a quick tentative text swelling with anxiety at the questions you knew awaited you. 

It seemed your anxiety was for nothing though, as a short and sweet text from Sakura popped up on your screen not even a minute later: ‘I knew you’d cave (; here 999-000-3456’. You knew as soon as you saw her you'd be bombarded with a multitude of questions but for now you will be thankful for the solace she gave you. 

You didn't know the proper etiquette of ordering? Weed, so you didn't think it would be best to call Taehyun. You decided a simple text would do just fine. 

You: hi, how much for weed? It’s Y/n L/n btw. 

Taehyun: wtf? 

You: Sorry, can I buy some weed from you? 

Taehyun: i dont sell that. You have the wrong number. 

You: what? My friend Sakura gave me your number. She said you would have something to help me. 

Taehyun: Are you a fucking cop or something? 

You: No???

Taehyun: Whatever. if you're serious, meet me at lakeland park in 15 minutes. If I see any weird shit I'm leaving. 

Lakeland park was nearly a fifteen minute walk from you. He was giving you no time to overthink it instead grabbing you coat in a rush and bolting out the door. You pull your coat tighter around you as the wind bites at your cheeks. A fifteen minute walk isn’t far, but on a cold, dark night like this, every step feels heavier, the shadows stretching longer. Your breath clouds in the air as you walk, the rhythmic crunch of your boots on the frost-covered pavement the only

sound accompanying you. You’re not the kind of girl who sneaks out at night, let alone to meet someone like Kang Taehyun. He’s reckless, arrogant, always in trouble, the kind of boy your parents warned you about since middle school. But tonight, the weight of the day of every perfect grade, every strained smile, every pesky exam and desk filled with homework has crushed you into doing something reckless. Something that doesn’t feel like you. The park looms ahead, its iron gates blackened and wet with the mist that clings to the air. You hesitate at the entrance, fingers curling around the cold metal. It’s not too late to turn back, you tell yourself. But that same voice whispers that turning back means retreating to the suffocating predictability of your world. Straight-A student. Perfect daughter. Reliable friend. You just couldn't do that, you needed this. Bad. 

The park is deserted. The streetlights cast pale orange pools of light onto the pathways, but the spaces in between seem darker than they should. You clutch your phone in your pocket, your thumb hovering over the power button. Just in case.

The sound of a car engine idling pulls your attention to the far side of the park. There, parked near the frozen pond, is Taehyun's car. Its headlights are off, but the faint glow of the dashboard light outlines his silhouette. You almost stop in your tracks as he leans out of the driver’s side window, his dark hair tousled, an annoyed look on his face. 

“Didn’t think you were serious” He said as you walked up to the car. “Get in.” 

You hesitate, your hand brushing the cold handle of the passenger door. Pulling it open before you could allow yourself to overthink it. “I was told you could help me.” The inside of the car is warmer than you expected, the faint scent of marijuana smoke and leather wrapping around you. 

Taehyun shrugs a bored expression on his face as he leaned his head against the leather seat. His stance made you nervous. You could feel words bubbling up inside of you waiting to jumble out in a heap just like you always did in awkward silences like this. “I Just have a lot of stuff going on with school and my parents and-” 

Taehyun snorts, his amusement cutting sharper now as he interrupts the beginning of your rambles. “Well, don’t expect a medal or anything.” He leans back in his seat, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “Hurry up. I don’t have all night. What do you want? How much?” 

“I have twenty dollars..” You trailed off your voice smaller now. 

Taehyun sent you a curt nod reaching down to the glove department between the two of you. He pulled out a bag filled with a green substance, assuming it was the weed. “Here.” He tossed the bag down in your lap lazily. You picked it up in your hands inspecting it with keen eyes. 

“Do..do i just eat it?” You asked him as you began to open the top of the baggie. 

“What?” He asked leaning forward, the nonchalant expression he once held was gone, now a look of shock in its place. “No. You smoke it.” 

“Oh.” Was the only response you could muster up. A red sheen coating your cheeks with embarrassment. “I-i don't know how.”

Taehyun laughs sharp and cold. “Little miss perfect has never smoked before what a fucking shocker.” His tone had a sarcastic lit to it. One that made your stomach churn with uneasiness. 

“I’m not a junkie.” You spit out at him. “I just need help with some stress.” 

“Are you implying that I'm a junkie?” His asked with raised eyebrows and an expression that spelled ‘i dare you to say that i am’

“N-no” You stuttered “I’m just making a statement about myself.” 

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, but Taehyun doesn’t let up. “What’s next, huh? Gonna jay-walk across the street on your way home? Or maybe—and this is a real stretch—you’ll leave your dishes in the sink overnight.” He grins, wide and mocking. “Oh no, the horror.” 

Your face burns, but you refuse to look away. “I’m not as boring as you think.”

“Sure you’re not,” he says, dragging the words out. He sends you a smirk. “Let me guess—late night study sessions? Babysitting? Volunteer work at the animal shelter?” 

You cross your arms, your nails digging into your sleeves. “I came here, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, and it’s adorable,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re like a puppy trying to bark. Cute, but not exactly convincing.” 

The jab stings more than you’d like to admit, but you steel yourself. “At least I’m trying to do something different.” 

“Oh, you’re different, all right,” Taehyun shoots back, his grin widening. “Most people would’ve bailed by now. But not you. You’re too stubborn to realize when you’re in over your head.” You fiddled with the baggie still in your hand “I mean look at you, you thought you had to eat the fucking bud.”  

You glare at him, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you even care? If I’m so ‘adorable,’ why not just drive off and leave me here? No one is forcing you to sell to me ” 

Taehyun shrugs, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful—but no less infuriating. “Maybe I’m bored. Or maybe watching you squirm is more fun than anything else I’ve got going on tonight.” 

“Whatever.” You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. 

“So now that we've established that you do indeed smoke the weed and don't eat it. I’ll take that twenty and be on my way now-” 

“Can you teach me how to smoke it?” The words fell from your lips like spit fire before you could even think about them. 

“Seriously.” Taehyun sent you a deadpanned look. “Do I need to like, hold your hand while we're at it?” 

“Well no..” You trailed “I’ve just never done it before..” 

“I can tell,” He said, annoyed. “Whatever I have got nothing better to do.” 

He reached back into the saame glove department that he got the weed baggie from, pulling out a small pack of papers in his fingers. 

“These are wraps” He explained handing you the wraps. “We’ll put the weed into it before we smoke it.” 

“You're going to smoke with me?” You asked Taehyun, mulling the wraps in your hand as you carefully analyzed them. 

“Yeah, im not doing this shit for nothing do i look like a fucking teacher to you.” He snapped. Taehyun reached his hand out, yanking the baggie of weed out of your hands and although he did it with minimal force the action still shook you. He really was such a stark contrast to who you were. He was rough, arrogant and cocky. You were shy, timid and very inexperienced in everything he was comfortable with. This was a recipe for disaster. 

Taehyun continued by showing you how to ground up the weed then stuff it into the little paper carefully. You watched as his lips poked out, licking the paper to seal the week inside. Really, it shouldn't be something you're finding hot but you do. 

“This is a blunt” He explained. You watched him with careful calculation soaking in everything he said to you. The blunt dangles lazily between his fingers, the faint ember glowing like a tiny, taunting beacon in the dim light of the parking lot. He’s leaning against his beat-up car, all leather jacket and sharp jawline, looking like he stepped out of a 90s music video. You tried to steer the thoughts away. Just mere minutes ago you were rolling your eyes at him for poking fun at you, now in the dim light of the overhead dash coupled with the hues of the park street lamps you had thought he looked..well, beautiful. 

“Alright, princess,” Taehyun says, his tone as sharp as the smirk tugging at his lips. “You begged me to teach you, so here you go.” 

And there you were back to rolling your eyes. “I wasn’t begging,” you snap, your arms crossing defensively over your chest. You know your voice sounds weak even as you say it, and his smirk deepens, like he’s already won some unspoken argument. The nerves for what you were about to do finally really creeping in on you. 

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, handing you the blunt like it’s some kind of sacred ritual. “Just don’t go crying to your choir group when you cough up a lung.” You take it with more confidence than you feel, holding it between your fingers the way he does, even though you’re certain it doesn’t look half as natural. You leaned slightly forward in your seat, over the glove department that was between the two of you. 

For a quick fleeting second you could have sworn you saw his eyes flicker downwards catching the flesh of your exposed skin. You wore a hoodie half zipped down to reveal your black tank top with tiny little lace on the top. Your cleavage was slightly visible at this angle and he surely noticed it. 

“Now, put it in your mouth,” he instructs, deadpan, and you glare at him because you can hear the barely contained laughter in his voice. 

“Do you always have to be this crude?” you mutter, but you follow his instructions anyway, the filter feeling foreign and dry against your lips. His eyes flicker over you, quick but deliberate, before he leans closer. You freeze, the scent of leather and marijuana smoke filling your senses as he reaches up to flick his lighter. The flame catches, small and precise, and his hand shields it as he tilts it toward you. 

“Breathe in—gently,” he says, his voice softer now, almost serious, though you swear there’s a hint of amusement dancing on his face. You inhale, maybe too sharply, because the burn hits the back of your throat like fire, and you’re coughing almost immediately, doubling over as your eyes water. 

He barks out a laugh, loud and shameless, but there’s something about the way his hand hovers just shy of your back, like he’s deciding whether or not to steady you. “I told you to go easy,” he says, shaking his head. “What, you thought you were gonna look cool on the first try?” 

“I hate you,” you choke out, still coughing, and he grins like you’ve just made his night.

“Cute.” He mutters. “That’s cute.” he says, and for a second, you think you catch something softer in his expression—like he’s a little proud of you for trying. 

You straighten up, glaring at him through watery eyes. “Let’s go again,” you say, more determined than ever. 

He raises an eyebrow, surprised but impressed. “Look at you, all rebellious now,” Taehyun teases, taking the blunt from your hands, putting it to his lips and effortlessly inhaling. You wish you could say it wasn’t so erotic looking, the way his lips envelop the blunt, sucking in and then blowing out like he's done it a million times over. Because well, he has. He looks over at you again, eyelids narrowly heavy. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, though, like he’s seeing you differently. But before you can dwell on it, he’s all smirks and sarcasm again, holding out the blunt with a mock bow. “Alright, princess. Round two.” 

And as you fumble your way through another attempt, you can’t help but notice the way his expression turned darker, almost lustful as he watched you bring the blunt back to your lips tentatively.

The second drag is smoother. Not by much, but enough that you don’t hack up your lungs again. It still burns on the way down, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue, but there’s something else now—a strange kind of lightness creeping into your chest, like you’re not quite tethered to the ground.  “See?” Taehyun says, his voice smug. “Not so hard, is it?” 

You roll your eyes, but the edges of the world are starting to blur, the space inside the car feeling smaller and softer all at once. “It’s weird,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “But… kinda nice?” 

Taehyun chuckles, resting one arm over the back of his seat as he watches you. “Yeah, it’ll do that. Just wait. You’re gonna feel like your brain’s floating soon.”And he’s right. A few minutes later, the buzzing in your chest has spread to your head, leaving you light and a little disoriented. You can’t stop yourself from giggling, the sound spilling out before you can catch it. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks, arching a brow. He took the blunt from your hands, taking a drag from it. The smoke flew out of his lips in ‘O’s’ like some kind of party trick. 

Unfamiliar heat pooled in your belly at the sight, your thighs fidgeting in your seat. “I don’t know,” you say, leaning your head back against the seat. “Everything feels… floaty. Like I’m a balloon or something.” Your eyes felt heavy as you stared at him with a dopey smile on your face. The softness of the lights from the overhead light casted down on his face like a glowing frame of his face. It was a beautifully confusing feeling this way. You had found yourself wanting something from him you've never had before, something way worse and more irreversible than smoking for the first time. 

He snorts, shaking his head. “You’re high as hell,” he mutters, but there’s a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. A sharp keen to his eyes as they darken at the sight of you, leaning back against the seat, head turned towards him. Your glassy eyes staring up at him doe eyed.  

Your gaze lingered on the way his fingers tap absently against the steering wheel. “You’re not as much of an asshole as you act, you know,” you say, your voice unfiltered and soft. 

His head snaps toward you, his eyes narrowing. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You act all tough,” you say, shrugging. “But you’re still here. Putting up with me. Teaching me. You could’ve just told me to screw off.” 

“If I recall, I did do that when you texted me.” Taehyun says slowly, his speech becoming slightly slurred. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. His gaze flickers over you, like he’s trying to decide if you’re messing with him or not. Then he shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle, the sound sending a bolt of electricity through you and straight to your core. It was an unfamiliar feeling for you. You had never felt such intense heat and want for someone. You didn't know whether to blame the weed or your hazy mind, either way you weren't sure you minded. 

“Guess the high’s getting to you,” he says, but his voice has softened, the sharp edges dulled. His own lust lingered heavily in the compactness of the car. You are both hyper aware of the shift in the dynamic of the car. You smile lazily, sinking further into the seat. The hum of the moment feels bigger than either of you, like the space between you has shifted somehow. He handed the blunt back to you but with a shake of your head you refused it, already feeling relaxed. Your body is like jelly as you slumped against the seat of the car. 

You tilt your head to look at him, his profile is sharp in the dim light, the amber glow of the lighter from earlier still dancing in your mind. “Why are you staring?” he asks, his voice low and rough, like gravel underfoot. 

“I’m not,” you lie, even though you can feel the weight of your own gaze on him. 

“Yeah, you are,” he says, leaning back slightly in his seat, his fingers drumming absently on the steering wheel. “What’s going on in that good little head of yours, huh?”

You open your mouth to answer, but the words get stuck somewhere in your throat. The buzz in your chest has spread, making everything feel too big and too small all at once. You shift in your seat, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you are to him, how the scent of smoke and leather clings to the air between you. “I don’t know,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you meant it to be. 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watches you with that same unreadable expression. And then, like the space between you is pulling him in, he leans forward, just a fraction—enough to make your breath catch. “You’re high,” he says, almost like he’s reminding himself. “That’s all this is.” His breath fanned against your lips close enough that even a mere inch forward your lips would be touching. 

You shake your head, though the movement feels sluggish. “It’s not just that,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. 

Taehyun’s hand twitches where it rests on the steering wheel, and for a moment, he looks almost unsure, like he’s teetering on the edge of something he can’t pull back from. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t want this.” 

“I do,” you insist, your gaze locking with his. The pull between you feels magnetic now, impossible to ignore. The heat in your belly felt like fire only being fueled by the constant darkening of his eyes and his pure adultured need for you. You may be inexperienced and naive but you were stupid, he wanted you as badly as you wanted him. 

He lets out a low, almost defeated sigh, his fingers running through his messy hair. “You’re gonna regret this Tomorrow.” But he doesn’t move away. 

You lean forward first, closing the already minimal space between you. It’s tentative, the barest brush of your lips against his, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pull back. But then he doesn’t. 

Taehyun’s lips press against yours, slow and deliberate, like he’s testing the waters. There’s a hesitance in the way his hand hovers near your cheek, as though he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you. But when you don’t pull away—when you lean into him instead—he seems to let go of whatever was holding him back. 

The kiss deepens, his hand finally coming to rest on your jaw, his thumb brushing against your skin. There’s nothing rushed about it, no desperation, just a quiet intensity that sends your heart racing. You don’t know if it’s the blunt, the high, or him, but the world outside the car has completely disappeared. It’s just the two of you now, tangled in this strange, unspoken pull that you can’t quite explain. 

“You’re gonna blame this on the high,” he murmurs with a groan. “If we don’t stop, I don't know how far it will go, princess.” 

You shake your head, your eyes still closed. “Don’t stop.” for a moment, neither of you says anything, the quiet hum of the night wrapping around you like a blanket. 

He doesn’t move away. If anything, he’s closer now, his hand sliding from your jaw to cup the side of your neck. His thumb brushes just under your ear, and the touch sends a shiver skimming down your spine. “How far have you gone before?” 

You shake your head “Nothing further than kissing.” 

He pulls back a small look of bewilderment on his face “Are you sure about this?” 

You nod, disconnecting yourself for a second to look at him, although your mind was hazy nothing about the decision to go further with Taehyun was, you were sure you wanted this. “Yes” You spoke with a surge of confidence. “I want this, so bad.” 

Taehyun reconnects your lips in a messy entanglement of lips and teeth, his hands grabbing at your waist to pull you closer to him even in the confines of his car. “Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. It’s not a demand—it’s a plea, barely restrained, like he’s fighting himself and losing.

You don’t tell him to stop. You can’t. Instead, your hands find their way to him, one resting on his shoulder, the other fisting the fabric of his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll pull away if you let go. “I’m not going to,” you whisper, and your voice shakes, but not with fear. 

He kisses you again, harder this time, like he’s been holding himself back and can’t anymore. There’s nothing hesitant about it now—his lips press firmly against yours, and you meet him with the same urgency, like you’ve both been waiting for this moment longer than either of you is willing to admit. 

Taehyun’s free hand slides to your waist, gripping you just hard enough to make your breath hitch. The space between you feels nonexistent, every inch of him pressing into you in a way that’s both overwhelming and addictive. You’re not thinking anymore—not about where you are, not about how this started, not about the million ways this could go wrong. All you know is the way his hands feel against you, the way his lips move like he’s memorizing the shape of yours, the way your entire body feels like it’s on fire. 

You tug at his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groans softly against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. Taehyun’s fingers dig into your waist, grounding you even as the world feels like it’s spinning out of control. The high from the weed makes your skin a buzz and your mind spin. 

“You’re gonna ruin me,” Taehyun mutters against your lips, his voice rough and raw, like the confession slipped out without his permission.It makes you want him even more. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, pouring every ounce of emotion you can’t put into words into the way your lips move against his. Your hips raise slightly, searching for some semblance of friction. 

The small space of the car feels suffocating now, the air thick and heavy as his hand slides up your side, brushing just beneath the hem of your sweatshirt. His touch is searing, leaving trails of heat in its wake, and you arch into him instinctively, a soft sound escaping your lips.

“Careful,” Taehyun murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide, but there’s something else there, too—a flicker of restraint, like he’s holding himself together by a thread. “You don’t know what you’re starting.” 

“Maybe I do,” you whisper, your voice steady even as your heart pounds in your chest. He had you craving something you had never indulged in before, something you knew you would miss as soon as it ended. 

For a moment, he just stares at you, like he’s trying to read your mind, to figure out if you mean it. Whatever he sees in your expression seems to be enough, because his lips crash into yours again, his hands gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He grabbed at your sweater, unzipping it until your frilly tank top was revealed underneath. When his lips leave yours, they trail along your jaw, slow and deliberate. 

The feeling of his lips sends a shiver down your spine, and you tilt your head instinctively, giving him more access.“God, you’re dangerous,” he mutters against your skin, his voice rough and almost reverent. His hands move up the expanse of your body and torso cupping your breasts in his hands. A gasp leaves your lip, a chill crawling up your spine. 

“These fucking tits.” Taehyun growled. “How has no man ever touched these before?” Your chest heaved as explored the entirety of your upper body, cradling your breasts in his hands. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and the high from the weed feels distant now, overshadowed by the way he’s making you feel. Every nerve in your body is alive, hyper-aware of his every touch, every breath, every unspoken word.

“Take this off.” He growls his lips ghosting over your collarbone as he tugged at your tank top in his big hands. You met his hands at the hem of your tank top, lifting it in one fail swoop over your head. Your top half is now completely bare and out in the open for his eyes to see. 

You didn't think his eyes could darken anymore then they already have but to now avail his irises became nearly black pools of desire. Your heart was thumping hard in your chest as your breath left you in harsh pants. He made quick work of running his hands to his grey sweatpants, yanking them down just enough to pull himself out of his boxers. His cock spring free, the rip red and angry. 

Your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. He smirked at you with a knowing look. “Cute.” He muttered. “You never seen a dick before or something.” You could tell he meant it as a joke but one single look at your expression made him realize just how little experience you’ve had. 

“I..” You trailed “I haven’t.” Your face was flush red from the embarrassment of your admittance, you hadn't even really watched porn. Seeing a dick was so obscure to you, so unheard of. 

“Come here.” Taehyun softly said as he held his hand out for you to take. You lifted your legs to gently maneuver your body over the center console of the car. The sudden movement coupled with the high that was still lingering had you feeling a bit dizzy. 

You sat on Taehyun’s lap. His hard cock now resting against your thigh. Awkwardly and out of instinct you lifted your arms to cover your breasts that were now smack dab in his face. A man’s dream you thought to yourself. 

“No, don’t do that princess.” He took a hold of your arms gently in his hands pulling them back until they were at your sides. “Don’t hide.” He toyed with the hem of your shorts and he brought his other hand to your hips, gently guiding your hips to rock back and forth against his cock. 

A gasp fell from your lips at the movement. He started slowly rocking your hips steadily against his to create just the perfect amount of friction. Your clit throb in your shorts wishing you were completely bare against him. 

“That feel good?” He asked you with a grit to his teeth trying his hardest to keep his groans at bay. You nodded dumbly, a whimper falling from your lips as you continued to allow him to guide your hips against his. 

“I..i think i need more.” Your voice was airy, a sigh that sounded a lot like a moan slipped from your lips. “More, please.” 

“Hm.” He hummed grabbing ahold of your hips with both of his hands, his grip tighter than it had been all night. “Pretty little princess wants more huh?” He was teasing you, rocking your hips faster against him. 

“Y-yes!” You squealed, as a foreign feeling twisted in your stomach, the intensity knocking you forward trying to steady yourself on his chest. 

The sudden stop of your hips had you whining as Taehyun roughly gripped your hips in his hands stopping your movements. “The first time you cum will be with my cock buried deep inside of you. Not from you grinding on it like a needy little whore, do you hear me?” 

“Taehy-” You began to whine. 

“Do.you.hear.me?” He asked again tougher this time as he snaked his hand up your neck to the nape grabbing a fist full of your hair in his hands yanking your face to be level with his. 

“Yes!” You repeated for the second time tonight. “Want your cock..” 

“Good girl.” Taehyun let go of your hair soothing the spot with his palm. “Let's get these shorts off now, yeah?” You nodded with a hum as you lifted yourself off his lap to give Taehyun easy access to slide your shorts and panties down at the same time. 

“Are you going ok?” He ran his hands up and down your sides soothingly. 

“I am” You reassured him. You bent your face down to meet his lips in a short kiss as you pulled away Taehyun smirked, chasing your lips with his own, causing a giggle to leave you. 

His hand reached down, carefully circling your heat with his fingers. “You're so wet.” He hissed, dipping a finger slightly inside your awaiting core. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him toy with your pussy lip and clit delicately. Your legs slightly shook from the touch of him. 

“I think you’re ready.” He nodded more to himself than you. “You think you’re ready baby?” The pet name caught you off guard stunting your ability to answer so instead you nod. 

“I need your words.” He said, more harsh than you expected. 

“I’m ready.”  You confirmed. His hands found your hips once again, lifting you up until the tip of his dick was lined up at your entrance. The knot in your stomach tightened as the reality of what was about to happen set in. You were really about to lose your virginity. Here in a car, in the middle of the night to a boy you had just officially tonight. The thought excited you? It was so purely unlike you that you couldn’t wait to do it. 

Taehyun helped guide you down on his length, the stretch of him burning as you slowly moved down inch by inch on his cock. “Oh.” You squeaked, using Taehyun’s shoulder as leverage. “Oh-” You said again. The one syllable seems like the only word you could even begin to utter. 

“Careful.” Taehyun grit the words out. “That’s it.” 

The feeling of him inside you had tears pricking your eyes as the intensity of the moment took over. 

“Stay still princess” Taehyun’s voice was soft as he gave you instructions on how to take him, talking you through it. You sat still on his lap as his cock was not fully satiated inside of you. The feeling was odd..a good odd. You felt full, entirely consumed by him. The dead of night surrounding you adds onto the ambience. 

“Move whenever you want sweetheart, you're in charge.” The heat of his hands on your bare skin coupled with the heat in the car and the weed lingering in your veins gave you the boost of confidence you needed to lift yourself up and slam yourself back down on his cock. Carefully at first, testing the waters. Taehyun’s grunt of pleasure only adds to the fire growing inside of you. You needed to make him feel good, it was now the most important part of this. 

“Fuck” He grunted as he leaned his head back against the seat heavily lidded eyes looking up at you as you bounced atop him. The pleasure was creeping up on you, the burn now a dull feeling easily forgotten about. “Keep doing that.” 

His praise served as a catalyst for you to keep moving your hips up and down on his cock. Your thighs shaking at the overwhelming pleasure and the workout you were receiving. 

“So good.” You whimpered out, the only sounds around you were the ones of the constant smacking of your ass against his lap and the moans you let slip from your mouth uncontrollably. 

“Good girl.” Taehyun babbled, resetting his arms behind his head, watching you. “That’s a good fucking girl, fucking that cock for the very first time.” 

“Am i doing good?” You chased his praise almost as fast as you chased your impending orgasm, the heat pooling in the bottom of your belly like the fire getting ready to boil over and explode. 

“Yeah baby, you're doing so good. Keep bouncing on my cock. Just like that.” Soft mews left your lips reaching your fingers out to drag down Taehyun’s clothed chest. 

“Can I help you out?” Taehyun pants desperately pawing at your hips. “If it hurts, let me know, I'll stop right away.” 

“Ok.” You whimpered pathetically. You'd allow him to do anything to you right now just as long as you continued to feel as good as you were. His hands gripped your hands tightly in his hands before shooting his hips up with one single snap. 

A gasp of surprise left your lips as he reached angles you didn't even know was possible. 

“Holy-” You breathed out “Fuck, fuck.” 

Taehyun’s hips snapped up drilling his cock into your weeping hole over and over. His balls lewdly slapping the underside of your ass. “I’m close.” He hissed, not letting up on his thrusts. 

“M-me too, I think.” You winced at the mixture of pain and pleasure consuming you. The feeling that bubbled up inside of you waiting to explode like a ticking time bomb. 

“This tight fucking pussy wont ket me go.” Taehyun’s words sent you flying towards your orgasm, becoming a mess of yourself on top of him. He followed suit not longer after pushing his hips inside of you a few more times before stilling himself. 

“Fuck.” He huffed rubbing the sides of your thighs as rested your head against his chest trying to catch your breath. 

“Are you ok?” He asked with a slightly worried tone. 

“So good.” You said raising your head to look at him. “Thank you” 

“For the sex?” He quirked an arrogant brow at you, a laugh bubbling in his chest. 

“Well, yes and the weed, and teaching me how to smoke it and-”

“Ok, ok” He laughed. “No need to thank me so much.” 

“But I do.” You said with sincerity. “You helped me alot tonight.” 

“I can always do it again..” He trailed off with a slightly nervous tone in his voice. 

“Is this a drug dealer's way off asking me out after taking my weed and literal virginity in his car?” You joked, sending him a goofy grin. He shrugged in an attempt at being nonchalant despite his best efforts. 

“Is this the goody two shoes princess saying yes?” His tone was just as goofy and airy as the both of you felt. 

“It is.” You smiled at him. “Yes, a thousand times over.” 

“Eager are we?” Taehyun jokes. You laughed, hitting his chest lightly. “Shut up and fuck me again Taehyun.” 

“Don't have to ask me twice.” 

taglist. @st1llm0nster , @blossommi , @beomiracles, @kkamismom12 , @izzyy-stuff , @biteyoubiteme , @hyukascampfire , @thetxtdevil

[muniimyg]

⋆꙳•❅ knj: wit it this christmas ❆•꙳

in which your boyfriend absolute sucks at wrapping gifts, leaving you to do all the work since… well, you don't suck. at least, not at gift wrapping!

series m.list // taglist

note: hoe hoe hoe ,, let's begin the series <3

warning: kissing, tit fucking, nam joon slaps oc, blowjob, headpusher!joon, dirty talk (calls her cockslut, bitch, etc), face cum shot

//

the floor is a mess. 

it’s a chaotic spread of wrapping paper scraps, accidentally ripped bows, and ribbons cut the wrong length—not to mention the missing roll of tape…you’re sitting in the middle of it all, cross-legged and nearly about to lose your mind. 

meanwhile, namjoon sits beside you, scissors in hand and an expression somewhere between focused and defeated.

“namjoon, this is—this is not even remotely straight. what happened?”

“okay, first of all,” he starts, setting the scissors down exaggeratedly, “you gave me the world’s dullest scissors. second, who needs straight edges? it’s going to get ripped off in like, two seconds.”

“it’s the principle,” you reply, deadpan, as you take the scissors from him and start cutting yourself. “why would we give out poorly wrapped presents? this is our 2nd christmas together—”

he sighs dramatically, leaning back on his hands. “okay, okay…”

“you’re on tape duty,” you say, tossing the roll at him. he catches it clumsily, letting out a small “oof” as it hits his chest. 

“wow, demoted again,” he mutters, peeling off a piece of tape and sticking it to his forehead. “what’s next? moral support?”

“don’t tempt me.”

the playful banter carries on as you work, but it’s not long before the god of destruction himself strikes again. 

why didn’t you see this coming? 

namjoon somehow manages to get the tape stuck to itself, creating an unusable, crumpled mess. you groan, taking the mangled roll from him.

“oh my god. do you suck this bad? fuck, that’s it. you’re officially off tape duty,” you declare, pointing towards the door. “go buy more wrapping paper. now.”

he stares at you, lips twitching into a smirk. 

“wow, so controlling. is this how it’s going to be when we’re married? barking orders at me every two seconds?”

“maybe if you actually followed instructions, i wouldn’t have to bark orders.”

his smirk grows into a grin, and there’s a glint in his eye now, playful but challenging. 

“you know, you’re kind of scary when you’re in charge.”

“good.”

"hot too."

"shut up."

the tension shifts, thickening the air between you. his grin fades into something softer, and when he leans closer, the warmth of his breath brushes your cheek. your heart skips as his hand finds your wrist, halting your movements.

“you’re so bossy,” he murmurs, his voice low, teasing. 

as much as you want to get these presents wrapped and out of the way, there’s something about his voice that pulls you back. something that makes your pulse race. even so, you fight through the urge. 

“and you suck,” you counter, but your words come out quieter, softer than you intend. "useless."

he chuckles, the sound deep and warm, before he closes the distance between you entirely.

“useless, huh?” he says, tilting his head, his nose brushing yours. there’s a lazy smirk tugging at his lips now. “you don’t sound too convincing, you know.”

your breath hitches. 

“well, you’ve got me surrounded by evidence, namjoon. want me to list all the ways you’ve been no help tonight? you fucking suck.”

his fingers tighten slightly around your wrist, grounding you, his thumb brushing idly against your skin. 

“maybe i just needed the right kind of motivation.”

you narrow your eyes at him, but your pulse betrays you, hammering wildly in your chest.

“and what kind of motivation would that be?”

he doesn’t answer right away, just looks at you, his gaze slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing every detail. when his free hand reaches up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you feel your breath catch again.

“maybe if you stopped looking so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice dipping lower, “i’d be able to focus.”

your cheeks burn, but you scoff, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach. 

“pretty sure being able to cut paper straight has nothing to do with how i look.”

“that’s where you’re wrong,” he says softly, his lips dangerously close to yours now. “because the whole time i’ve been thinking about kissing you instead of—”

you don’t let him finish.

it’s instinctive, the way you close the distance, your lips pressing to his in a kiss that’s more impatient than soft. but he doesn’t seem to mind. his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while his other drops your wrist to settle on your waist.

the kiss deepens, slow and steady at first, before it grows more heated, all the playful tension from earlier unraveling between you. you can feel the faint press of his grin against your lips, making you smile too, even as your fingers tangle in his hair.

“so,” he murmurs against your lips when you finally break apart, his voice breathless, “am i still useless?”

“you’re getting there,” you reply, and before he can respond, you’re pulling him back in.

mid kiss, he pulls away and breathes; “you know how you’ve been yapping about how much i fucking suck at wrapping presents?” 

you nod. 

“let’s see how much you suck, boss.” 

nam joon has you placed in between his thighs. 

your mouth wraps around the tip of his cock. kissing it lightly, you open your mouth wider to suck him in slowly. you only take the top half though, trying to warm him up. 

he’s leaning back against the couch and watching you with needy eyes. his eyebrows furrow as you take him deeper, letting a muffed moan out every now and then. for a moment, he squeezes his thighs together, trapping you. you almost choke from the lack of air, but it’s only enough for your eyes to get teary. when he lets go, you gasp for air. he smirks, liking the way you lost your breath. then, you get back into it.

as you drag your tongue along his length, he hisses; “yeah? that’s it, baby. lick my fucking cock. see how hard it is?”

“mhm? really fucking hard, baby.”

“take your tits out,” he instructs you, shifting so can have the space to take your shirt off. 

you do so. 

“like this?”

“yes,” nam joon murmurs as he helps you undress. nam joon reaches over to unclasp your bra. tossing it to the side, he grabs a handful of your breasts and bites his lip. “so fucking pretty, baby. tits so fucking juicy. so perfect. god, so fucking perfect…”

you tilt your head and shake your body, getting your tits to jiggle. he groans and slaps them. then, with a raspy and demanding voice, he says;

“be a good girl and fuck my cock with your tits, baby.”

you smile, liking the idea. 

repositioning yourself, you kneel over and hold both sides of your breasts. pushing them together, nam joon helps but gently guiding his cock into your cleavage. he thrusts slowly, and you both watch the way the tip of his dick pops out. 

you spit on top and he moans from the warmth of your saliva. 

before you know it, he’s fucking your tits. 

he pumps himself in and out, harder and harder by the minute. 

then, he places his hand on top of your head and holds you still as he pushes his cock into your mouth. 

“take it, bitch.” 

so you do. 

you take him in, sucking him hard and sloppy. you take him in so good, he’s near cumming. he can feel his dick harden inside your mouth and you do too. it’s like every curve and vein pops out, angry and ready to burst. you feel his body tense too—his thighs, his pelvis, and even the way his face winces… it’s such a huge tell. 

soon, nam joon begins to pant. then, he takes a handful of your hair and tugs your head back. surprised by his suddenness, you let go of everything. he bends over and kisses you, shoving his tongue inside. 

you kiss him back, matching his desperation and passion. 

when he pulls away, he cups your face with one hand and squishes your lips together. 

“do as i say,” he huffs. “okay, baby?”

you nod.

he slaps your face. 

“good girl.”

you moan and he slaps you again. roughly, cups your face and spits on you. his saliva sprays all over your face, but more on your lips. 

“what do you say?”

“thank you.”

“yeah, that’s right, bitch. you fucking say thank you when i spit in your face, right? because you’re such a fucking cockslut. you take me in so good, why? cos you love me? or because you love my cock?” 

you blink at him, pouting. 

“because i love you.”

he lets out a chuckle. 

“and my cock,” he adds. “say you love my cock, baby. then tell me what you love about it. say it while you suck me dry.” 

without another word, he pushes your head down and takes his cock in his hands. pumping it slowly, he shoves it into your mouth and hisses at you. 

“look at me,” nam joon deadpans. “don’t take your eyes off me.” 

you listen. 

you watch as the corner of his lips curve into a smirk. he holds his cock steady as he uses his other hand to push your head. 

headpusher. 

you breathe in through your nose, trying to steady yourself. as he pushes your head, his cock reaches the back of your throat multiple times. you gag every now and then, and he takes his cock out to give you some air. as you cough, he runs his thumb against your lips and asks if you’re okay. you simply nod and take him back in. 

you suck him off. 

lick him up. 

and soon enough, he lets go of your head. 

with your newfound freedom, you plop down and dig into his balls. 

as you shove your face deeper, sucking his balls and pressing kisses on his length, you tell him;

“mhmpphh… baby, your cock is so fucking hard in my mouth. did you feel how deep i took you? thank you for helping me, baby… such a good fucking daddy. always helping his girl take him in… you like that, right? you like how big your cock is… doesn’t even fit in my mouth.” 

“yeah?”

“mhm,” you hum, shifting up to suck the tip of his cock. then, you take in more. 

and more.

and even more.

his body tenses. 

you look up at him, batting your eyelashes. 

“see?” you ask, mouth full of his cock. you suck as much as you can as you bob your head up. “f-fuck, baby… i can’t wait for you to cum. i love the way you cum taste. you always make it so sweet for me. what do you wanna do today, hmm? cum on my face? cum on my tits? i want it all, baby… will you give it to me? can this fucking big hard cock give me what i need?”

nam joon nods. 

“yeah?” you ask him, continuing to suck him dry. 

you watch as his body winces. 

“how do i look?” 

“so pretty…” 

“pretty?” you tease. “you like it when i suck you cock like this? you’re such a mouthfull… you say i’m bossy? this is how you shut me up, right?”

“yeah.”

“looks like you’re the one that’s all shut up,” you giggle. “do i suck your cock that good?”

“so good… my pretty cockslut.”

you pout. “then what’s taking so long? cum already. i wanna swallow.”

nam joon bucks his hips and listens to your request. he fucks your mouth. nam joon grunts, squirms, and finally—he cums. 

when he does, his cum rushes out and splatters over your face. he aims for your mouth as you stick your tongue out. a part of you wishes he didn't pull out and just spilled himself entirely inside your mouth.

he wipes the cum that landed on your cheek and shoves his fingers in your mouth. you suck it clean and moan from the heavenly taste. before he can move, you reach over and grab a piece of ribbon on the floor.

he sits still and laughs as you tie and make a bow of it around the base of his cock. you get up and find your phone and quickly snap a picture. 

nam joon’s legs are sprawled wide with one arm draped lazily over the backrest. his posture isn’t anything close to refined—more slouched than seated (it’s the post-nut posture). in the picture, his head tilted, eyes half-lidded like everything about him was effortless. his cock has a pretty pink bow tied around it. 

when you kneel up to show him, he groans. 

“my dick looks too soft.”

you giggle. 

“not my problem.” 

just as you’re about to move away, he grabs you by your hair and tugs your back. he places a kiss on your cheek then on your lips. against them, he murmurs; 

“it will be if you don’t fucking put my cock back inside your pretty mouth."

"oh? is that it?"

nam joon smirks.

"mhm... be a good girl and swallow this time.”

"don't pull out then." you pout.

"i'm so sorry about that," he tilts his head. "i'll be good boy this time and cum inside your mouth."

"promise?"

"promise."

[runninriot]

Four Stockings make a Pair

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 24

prompt: Stocking | rated: G | wc: 998 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve, feelings realisation

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

   "Wayne, I'm back! Brought a little surprise for you!" Eddie calls out, feeling just a bit guilty when his uncle happily pokes his head into the hallway only to stop dead in his tracks.

   "How was- Oh. Hey, Robbie!"

Wayne hobbles towards them and, despite leaning heavy on one crutch, opens his free arm for the little girl that runs straight at him.

   "Grandpa Wayne! Why didn't you tell us you hurt your foot? We would've visited you a lot sooner, right dad?"

Something about their interaction makes Eddie's chest feel tight, hits him with a hint of jealousy but also makes his heart grow three sizes because it's nice to know that his uncle has people here that care for him when he's not around.

   "Hey, Wayne. Sorry to barge in like that. We, uh, we met Eddie at the community centre and-"

Watching Steve fumble for his words, awkwardly standing in the doorway like he's feeling caught, is almost too much to handle. But as endearing as it is to watch his pretty face turn pink, Eddie has mercy on him.

   "Robbie and I were craving your famous hot chocolate, so I invited them over."

Wayne shoots him a look that feels like a silent agreement to 'talk about this later' before he turns back to the girl with one of those rare smiles he doesn't give out freely.

   "Is that so? Well, we better make some then. Why don't you two get set in the living room while Robbie and I get on with it. You wanna help me, sweety?"

   "Yesss! Can I, dad?"

When Steve agrees, she takes Wayne's free hand and carefully leads him in the direction of the kitchen while telling him all about her afternoon.

   "We saw Santa today! He was so nice. And we took a picture with him and I told him what I want for Christmas!"

When Eddie and Steve enter the living room, Eddie's eyes immediately fall on the Christmas tree Wayne must've put up while he was gone - so much for resting his leg. Next to the tree, over the fire place, he notices four instead of only two stockings hanging from the mantelpiece and it makes him wonder if maybe Wayne was planning on sharing his little secret, had Eddie not already found out about it today.

It's hard to realise what he missed out on while being too focused on his own life. He could've visited sooner, more often - Wayne keeps telling him it's fine but Eddie still feels bad about only making his way back home twice a year.

   "I'm sorry, Eddie,” Steve starts after a moment of awkward silence, “This must be so weird for you."

   "Nah, you're good. I guess I was just surprised Wayne hasn't told me about it."

   "Maybe he thought you wouldn't approve? I told him we haven't exactly been friends back then, because I was kind of a dick," Steve says bashfully and that startles a laugh out of Eddie.

   "What? No, Harrington. You were fine. Your friends, they were assholes but your only fault was that you were too cool to hang out with someone like me."

Now it's Steve's turn to laugh and it's a beautiful sound Eddie wants to hear more of.

   "Oh, shut up. You were waaay cooler than me!"

This goes back and forth for a while, with them bantering and play fighting with each other like friends, like it's never been any different between them. How it could’ve been all those years ago.

   "So, uh, you and Robbie. Why did you move back to Hawkins? I always imagined you'd make it into the big city, somewhere far away from here."

It's an instant mood killer, Eddie can tell by the way Steve's smile falters and his shoulders drop. But it's too late to take it back and he really wants to know.

   "Uh, you know. Sometimes life doesn’t turn out to be what you wanted it to be. Hawkins seemed like a good idea to get away from... everything. Until I realised that I had no one left here."

There's a sadness in Steve's voice that breaks Eddie's heart. He has to fight the urge to pull him into his arms, doesn’t know if he’s allowed to.

   "Then Wayne kinda... found me. I had just moved back and everything felt wrong. I was ready to just give up but then this stranger came into my life out of nowhere, asked if I needed help and- that's how we ended up becoming fam- friends."

His little slip-up doesn't go unnoticed and it makes Eddie feel all warm inside.

   "Wayne's always had a weak spot for strays,” he jokes, “Took me in when my life was falling apart, too. He's the best. I'm glad he found you."

Eddie reaches out for Steve’s hand, takes it in his. It’s not a hug but he hopes it still offers some comfort.

It should feel strange, to have Steve and his daughter invading in his home, fitting right in where it had always just been Wayne and him. Somehow making it feel... complete.

Making it hard for Eddie not to drown in the flood of emotions resurfacing from where they've been buried for a long time.

He thinks about Robbie's wish and wonders, if there's a universe in which he could be that person.

They let go of their hands when they hear Robbie and Wayne enter.

   "Eddie, look! I made mine with whipped cream. Like yours!"

And, yeah. He's already too deep, he can feel it.

The rest of the day goes by in a haze and when it's time for Steve and Robbie to leave, Eddie isn't ready to let them go.

   "Wanna spend Christmas with us?"

The question is out before he can think it through.

   "If- if that's okay? I don't-" Steve looks at Eddie, seems unsure.

Again, it's Wayne who saves them both.

   "We'd love to have you here."

[solxamber]

Hiii! for the Holiday Event! (feel free to ignore if it gets too busy, put yourself first^^ <3)

Ramshackle, "For you, anything" with hurt/comfort?

Thank you in advance, and happy holidays! <3 (btw I looooooooooooooooooove your writing so much; I just keep returning to your 'holding and not letting go' and I SPECIFICALLY LOVE HOW YOU WRITE LEONA!! And take breaks wheneverrr you feel you need it; don't burn yourself out, and let stuff take all the time it needs <3<3<3<3)

thank you so much and I will 🫶🫶🫶

First Priority || Rollo Flamme

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "For you, anything" ; Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Rollo wasn’t one to abandon his duties. His entire being was wrapped up in responsibility, discipline, and control. Every decision he made was meticulous, every action planned to perfection. That was why, when you heard the door of the infirmary burst open with an urgency unbecoming of his usual composed self, you were certain you were hallucinating.

“Where are they?” His voice was sharp, like a blade cutting through the sterile silence.

The nurse startled at his entrance, and you winced from where you sat on the cot, clutching your arm. “Here,” you called weakly, watching as Rollo’s eyes locked on you and softened—only slightly.

He crossed the room in swift strides, kneeling by your side in a flurry of pressed fabric and worry. “What happened?”

“It’s not that bad—” you started, but Rollo’s piercing gaze silenced you. He turned to the nurse with the same intensity.

“How could this happen under your watch?” he demanded, his voice tight with frustration. “Were they not supposed to be safe?”

The nurse raised her hands defensively. “It was an accident. They’ll be fine. But I need to disinfect the wound—”

“Then do it,” Rollo snapped, his jaw tight. “I’ll stay.”

You blinked. “Rollo, aren’t you supposed to be at—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “You come before anything else.”

His words hit you harder than the injury had. This was Rollo, who lived and breathed the structure of events, who would rather die than disrupt the schedule of an important gathering. And yet, here he was, abandoning it all for you.

“Rollo,” you whispered, your voice wavering as the nurse carefully cleaned your wound. “You didn’t have to leave.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening for a brief moment before his stern mask returned. “You think I could stay there knowing you were hurt? Impossible.”

“You’re being dramatic,” you said, trying for humor to hide how much his words meant to you.

Rollo didn’t laugh. He reached out, carefully brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering for just a second. “You don’t understand,” he said quietly, his voice trembling with something raw. “You are my savior, my light. For you, anything.”

The sincerity in his words left you speechless.

The nurse, seemingly sensing the moment, quietly finished patching you up and left the room, leaving you alone with him.

Rollo stayed kneeling by your side, his hand now holding yours gently. “You shouldn’t scare me like that,” he murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a rare vulnerability. “Promise me you’ll be more careful.”

“I’ll try,” you said, your voice soft. “But you can’t leave important events every time I get a scratch.”

“If it means you’re safe, I’ll leave a thousand events,” he said firmly, squeezing your hand.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with something so tender it hurt. “Thank you,” you whispered, squeezing his hand back.

Rollo nodded, his lips quirking up into a small, rare smile. “Always.”

Masterlist

[thesoobfiles]

a dance of two swords – l. haechan (m)

word count: 6.4k

summary: boy meets girl. boy falls in love with girl. girl happens to be an assassin sent to take care of boy. yk, classic love story.

prompt: “all that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes!”

tagging: @kookthief @honajoong

a/n: thank you so much to everyone who voted and helped me decide to make this one part! this is my first time writing for an idol, so I hope this doesn’t go terribly wrong! but it’s an AU (heir!Haechan x assassin!reader) so I think there’s room for a few OOC moments ☝️ also, i never give the voice behind the comms a name so feel free to imagine it as any NCT member or idol of your choice! most importantly, this is NSFW! if you’re a minor, please don’t interact!

Thursday, Sept. 1, 20XX

“Whoever chose this bright ass yellow as the school-issued uniform needs to be studied…” You mumbled under your breath as you begrudgingly put your arms through the blazer of your school uniform. Smoothing out the wrinkles in a frustrated fashion, you looked over your appearance in the bathroom mirror before a voice rings out through your comms.

“(Y/N), relax. Remember, everyone else is wearing the same uniform, so it’s easier to blend in… Besides, isn’t it nice to wear an official high school uniform? Or have a real first day of school? You know, experience a normal childhood?”

Let’s rewind, shall we? You aren’t necessarily your run of the mill senior high school student. No no, you’re an assassin. Born and raised in the confines of an underground facility your home country swore they didn’t have anymore. Extensively trained in hand-to-hand combat as well as quite skilled in a few close-range weapons such as the sword, the nunchucks and your personal favorite, the dagger.

You were flown out to South Korea so you could handle a special issue that your Korean counterparts were unsuccessful with: taking care of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, often called “Haechan” by friends, is the son of an incredibly successful man. Lee’s father runs Spade Inc. It’s like if you were to take Google, Samsung and Apple, roll them into one company, and put one man in charge. Obviously, this means that Lee and his entire family are worth tons of money; however, no one has been successful in tapping into this gold mine.

You were about to change all that.

“Short skirts were never really all that desirable to me, in all honesty. God, i’d be flashing the entire student body if I were to bend over and tie my shoes…” you replied with distaste as you returned to your reflection in the mirror, spinning around so that you could fix your bow.

“Besides, it’s much easier to kick ass in my polyester.” You say, walking out of the bathroom with your bag slung over shoulder.

“If you say so…look alive, target is approaching.”

You look up just in time to see the man of the hour: Lee Donghyuck.

He’s walking straight for you, or at least it looked like he was. He makes a sharp turn as soon as you open your mouth, and it feels like he walks past you in slow motion. You turn your head in his direction with your mouth still slightly agape, he looks at you from the corner of his eye and he smirks as he walks into the men’s bathroom.

You close your mouth, clear your throat, and pretend that wasn’t the tiniest bit embarrassing.

“Or not… my bad…”

“Yeah, it IS your bad…” you whisper with a bite as you check your watch.

“12:20… lunch period is almost over…” you sigh as you walk away from the bathrooms and toward your final class. Luckily, you share this class with Donghyuck, so you’ll see him later. You actually share 3 out of 4 classes with him, but you can’t really take Sex Ed III with him since each block is separated by gender. A precaution taken by the school to avoid unnecessary ruckus in the classrooms. No matter how old they get, boys will be boys.

You push the door of the classroom open and scan the room for potential threats. Unless two girls giggling in the front left corner counted as a threat, you were in the clear. You settle into a seat in the back corner and whip out your laptop. The seat is by a window and it’s in the very last row, the best seat for emergency exits and observing your target. No matter where Donghyuck sits, you’ll have the perfect visual of him.

As soon as the warning bell rings, you feel someone plop into the seat next to you. You turn your head to your right and suddenly, you’re seeing the visuals of Lee Donghyuck a LOT closer than you initially expected. You mask your surprise the best you can, blink twice, and return your focus to your laptop.

Boy, the photos do him no justice whatsoever. This man is nothing short of drop dead gorgeous.

“Not even a hello, darling?” you hear from your right.

You furrow your eyebrows and whip your head towards the voice, “Excuse me, do we know each other?” you ask incredulously.

“Not yet. I’ve seen you in a few of my classes and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Lee Donghyuck, but you can call me Haechan.” He flashes you a smile with his right hand extended in your direction.

At the same time, a familiar voice rings out through your comms.

“Damn, could you sound any more enthusiastic?”

You roll your eyes in response and take his hand. You’ve read plenty of documents about Donghyuck and his personality, so you know that he likes it when they play hard to get. You extend your hand in his direction and introduce yourself.

“Kim Suji.” You lie through your teeth as you watch him tenderly grab your hand and kiss the back of it. You’d be a liar if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

“A Korean name?” he asks curiously. Which is entirely fair because you don’t look like you have a single Korean bone in your body.

“From my mother’s side.” You immediately respond.

“아 그럼 수지씨의 한국어를 어때요? (Ah, then how is your Korean?)” Haechan asks with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“나쁘지 않아요, 동혁씨. (Not bad, Donghyuck.)” you reply with a smile as you retract your hand and face your laptop.

“Wow, he really tried you like that… Good thing you took those Korean classes over the Japanese ones…”

You chuckle as the final bell rings.

“Good afternoon, class. My name is Professor Ryu and welcome to Advanced Song Writing!”

You can feel Donghyuck still looking at you, but he looks way when the teacher starts calling names for attendance.

You get through the class with no issues. You focus on paying attention and before you know it, there’s only 5 minutes left of class.

“Alright class, thank you for bearing with me through the first day formalities. At the end of the semester, you’ll have to turn in a song that follows the criteria in the rubric I mentioned earlier. I’ll post it for everyone’s convenience.”

The teacher pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, looking at the clock on the back wall of the classroom.

“Alright, there’s only a minute left. Everyone, look at your desk mate. This person will be your partner for the end of semester project. Please take good care of each other and let’s get along! That’s it for today's class! See everyone tomorrow!”

The bell rings seconds after her ending comment and the classroom erupts in noise. Friends high fiving, acquaintances exchanging numbers and peers introducing themselves to each other.

“Alright, Donghyuck. It looks like we’re part-.” You stop short as you turn your head to find an empty seat.

“What the…” you look down at his desk to find a note.

Sorry Suji... Needed to slip out for a business meeting as soon as class was over, but here’s my number ~

010 – XXXX - 0606

- Haechan <3

“Wow, writing love letters already?”

“Oh, zip it. You already know he’s a huge flirt. He must’ve slipped out when the bell rang…” you say to the empty classroom as you place your belongings in your bag and make your way out of the room.

“Donghyuck getting past YOUR senses? Oh, someone alert the press…”

“He’s clearly a challenge… I mean, you wouldn’t fly out a foreign operative for kicks and giggles…” you reply matter-of-factly as you put your wireless earphones in, so people don’t think you’re talking to yourself on your walk home.

“Alright, you got me there. I’m waving the white flag of surrender. No need to so sound defensive…”

You roll your eyes for what feels like the 10th time today and hit up the convenience store on your way home. If there’s anything you love about Korea, it’s the super easy meals sold at the CU. You grab a few triangle kimbap and bring them to the counter. You give the cashier a couple bills and bow before taking your leave.

A short walk leads you to the front door to your “home.” You unlock it and scan the room for any signs of tampering. Not that there’s much that can be tampered with. Staying in an apartment used only for short term missions, there isn’t that much to see. One room. A foldable table and chair, a mini fridge and a really crappy couch. Being met with no signs of tampering or potential threats, you put down your bag, store the food in the fridge and sign off on comms.

“Talk to you tomorrow, (Y/N). Stay safe.”

“You too.” You remove your earrings and put it in the special box given to you when you were first given this assignment. You place the bow with the hidden camera right next to it, lense face down.

You plug in your laptop and hit the showers. After your shower, you sit down at the dinner table with your kimbap and look at the note Donghyuck left you.

“Referring to himself as Haechan when we aren’t even well acquainted… what a forward guy…” you scoff as you enter his number into your phone.

To: 010-XXXX-0606

“Hey, it’s Suji. Is this Lee Donghyuck?”

You hit send and take a bite out of your kimbap.

“Not bad…” you utter to yourself when you already feel a vibration.

From: Lee Donghyuck

“No need to government name me… Aren’t we friends? ~”

You scoff. This boy is way too friendly for his own good.

Suji: “We just met today and you’d consider us friends?”

Donghyuck: “That’s how you get closer to people you want to get to know better ~”

Suji: “Aren’t you supposed to be in a business meeting?”

Donghyuck: “We just wrapped everything up… Your timing was quite perfect actually…”

Suji: “When and where do you want to meet?”

Donghyuck: “Aw, do you miss me already? ~”

You needed a moment to pause and let the audacity of this man sink in. You couldn’t help but laugh because in all your years of performing missions, never have you met someone who has come off as strong as Donghuck. Well, you know you’re a beautiful girl. That’s normally why you’re assigned to cases where the target is male. They more often than not fall for your looks, which sooner or later leads to their demise.

Suji: “For the project, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck: “You’re no fun </3 We can meet tomorrow after class. My place, unless you don’t feel comfortable enough?”

Huh, even when he’s flirting, his manners are still intact. You’re reminded of your first meeting with Donghyuck, when he grabbed your hand and tenderly placed his lips to the back of your hand… You didn’t show it, but it made you a bit nervous. This is the first mission you’ve been on where the target is not only in your age group, but he’s totally your style.

“Maybe in a different life, we could’ve been lovers…” you whisper as you draft up your next text.

Suji: “That’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”

Donghyuck: “See you tomorrow ~”

Friday, Sept. 2, 20XX

You walk into class with sunglasses on your head and a mask over your face. If you’re going to Donghyuck’s house today, it’s best to complete the mission as soon as possible. Obviously, you don’t want videos of you entering the premise on file, so you need a low-key kind of disguise. Honestly, you weren’t expecting to have the chance so soon, but the sooner the better.

The classes zoom by and before you know it, you’re in your last class. Your butt just met the chair when you hear a concerned and already rather familiar voice.

“I didn’t have the opportunity to ask, but are you feeling sick today? We can meet at a later date if you aren’t feeling well…” Donghyuck.

“It’s just a precaution. My allergies normally act up around this time.” You brush off his concern as you lower your mask in the classroom. You offer him a smile and he immediately brightens up.

Unlike the other classes, this one doesn’t breeze by so easy. It’s possible that the only reason they went by so quickly was because you had no one to distract you, but this is the only class where you and Donghyuck sit next to each other. It was hard to pay attention to the teacher talk about the importance of bridges when there was a face that you know inspired hymns right next to you.

You put your laptop to sleep. Why? So you can stare at Donghyuck’s reflection on the empty screen. It’s not like you cared about your grades here anyway. You weren’t staying for long, but wow he truly is a stunning individual. His tan skin that was completely free of blemishes, his focused face that still managed to hold a softness despite his well-defined features, his fluffy brown hair that fell into his eyes, but gently caressed the top of his blazer…

It isn’t until Donghyuck looks down to type on his own laptop that you’re snapped back to reality. You quickly jot down some notes on your laptop, so it looks like you were paying attention and not like you spent the last few minutes spacing out to Donghyuck’s face.

Closing your laptop, you decide to whip out your notebook instead. At least you can’t stare at him that way…

The class is beginning to wrap up when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn to Donghyuck and raise your eyebrows curiously.

“I can drive us to my place after class if you aren’t busy.” He offers sweetly.

“Sounds great.” You smile, pulling your mask back up.

You walk out together and head to the senior lot. You know Donghyuck drives a sixth-generation Mercedes-Benz SL, but he doesn’t know you know, so you just follow behind him. You reach his car and he opens the door for you and guides you in.

“What a gentleman.” You muse as you sit in the passenger seat. He smiles and walks to the driver side.

“I’ve been told girls like being the passenger princess.” He chuckles.

“You’ve been told? It’s not first hand experience?” You joke.

“Well, I don’t normally drive girls around haha…” he replies as he starts the engine.

You were about to make another quip when he rests his hand on the back of your headrest. Good thing your mask is still up because the speed in which your jaw snapped shut is equivalent to that of a mouse trap. The reason? You’re currently looking at Donghyuck reverse out of the student lot, one hand on the wheel and his neck turned towards the rear windshield.

Your eyes travel from his face down to the veins on his neck, only to land on his left hand that rests so nicely on the material of the steering wheel. You could imagine a few more places where his hands could rest just as nicely…

You snap your head towards the windshield and close your eyes. You don’t remember acting this horny even as a pre-pubescent teen during your formative years. What the hell is wrong with you??

“The drive isn’t that long, but it isn’t short either, so you can put on some music if you’d like.” He offers.

Donghyuck’s house is far too nice to be located in Seoul. His family lives in the same house they’ve lived in since he was born, which is in Goyang. Roughly a half hour drive from SOPA, nothing crazy.

“Thanks…” you reply softly. Picking up his phone from the console, you type in a song you know he’ll love.

Girl, close your eyes Let the rhythm get into you Don’t try to fight it There ain’t nothing that you can do

“You like Michael Jackson??” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Of course. His songs are nothing short of legendary.” You reply with pride as you queue a few more songs and return his phone to the console.

He laughs in disbelief and starts singing along.

“I wanna rock with you. All night ~”

Your eyes widen at the sound of his voice. You knew he could sing but boy, is he a damn good singer…

You’re learning so much about Haechan that the files can’t teach you… All you had to go off of were a few recent pictures and pages of facts about him. It’s easy remembering the fact that he’s a Junior Black Belt holder or that he has a passion for music, but hearing him sing in real time is something akin to an out of body experience.

Haechan serenades you all the way to his house and all you can say is that calling it a “house” is a grave understatement. He lived in nothing less of a castle. It was clearly passed down from generation to generation as you couldn’t possibly imagine a building of this stature being built in today’s day and age.

He pulls up to the front door of his not-so-humble abode and parks. Exiting the vehicle, he walks over to your side and opens your door once more. This time, extending his hand towards you so he can help you out.

“Wow, this dude must’ve had some serious etiquette classes drilled into his brain. I cannot imagine a normal guy doing all this jazz for you…”

You can’t help but mentally agree. Unfortunately, the men of today are so incredibly uncultured, it’s past the point of humor.

“Welcome home, Young Master Donghyuck.” You hear an aged voice say as soon as the door swings open.

“Good afternoon, Hajoon.” He replies with a soft smile on his face.

“Welcome to the Lee residence, Miss Suji.” Hajoon turns to you and does a 90 degree bow.

“Thank you for having me.” You reply, returning his bow.

“Cameras are down.”

You smile weakly as you walk through the front door of the Lee residence. You adjust the sunglasses on your head and lower your mask while slipping off your outside shoes and replacing them with the guest slippers provided by Hajoon.

“Young Master Donghyuck, Miss Suji, would you care for a freshly squeezed beverage?”

Before you can even open your mouth, Haechan speaks for the both of you.

“That would be lovely, Hajoon.”

Hajoon bows and turns to a doorway that you assume leads to the kitchen.

Haechan begins walking to the foot of a spiral staircase, probably leading you to a room where you can work. He turns to you with a smile.

“You MUST try Hajoon’s fresh lemonade. It’s the best you’ll ever have.” He winks at you as he proceeds walking up the staircase.

You stand there at the bottom, doe eyed.

“…i-if you say so…” you stutter.

“Did you just stutter?? (Y/N), you do remember that this dude flirts with anyone and everyone, right?”

You give the side eye to no one in particular, but you know who it’s for. Of course you knew that, but you were just a girl after all. No matter how well trained you were, is it so crazy to believe that a little attention from a hot guy could have this effect on you?

“Do NOT let your personal feelings get in the way of the mission.”

Good thing Haechan is a good few steps in front of you, so you reply a bit snappily.

“Please, I’m not 5. I’m perfectly capable of following instructions.” You mumble under your breath. Although, you weren’t really as determined to end his bloodline as you were in helping him further it…

You reach the top of the staircase and follow Haechan down the hall to a room with double doors. He pushes them open, and you’re met with a very large and beautifully decorated room. Bookshelves lining the walls, paintings adorning the walls without, a wooden table in the center of the room with one larger-than-average couch and a tray of snacks in the center.

Haechan spins around with his arms wide open in a “ta-da” like manner. You raise your eyebrows and nod in amazement. You almost forgot that his parents are incredibly well off and have the funds to buy 50 more houses like the one you’re currently standing in.

“Hajoon will bring the drinks up when he’s done.” He states as we walks over to the couch, urging you to sit first.

You smile at him and take a seat. You on the right-hand side and Haechan on the left-hand side. He immediately reaches for a cracker on the tray and offers it to you. How nice. You move to grab it and he quickly yanks it out of your grasp. You furrow your eyebrows and try again only for it to be moved just out of your reach.

You squint your eyes at Haechan, and he chuckles. He’s holding the cracker in his left hand, dangling his arm over the couch, taunting you. With every inch towards Haechan, his back reclines further and further into the couch until his head lies on the armrest. You put your left hand on the back of the couch for leverage and stretch out your arm once again in an attempt to grab the snack.

He giggles and it all happens so fast. Your left arm slips, he drops the cracker and you face-plant right into his chest.

“Shit, is your physical trainer a brick wall??” you ask as you prop yourself up with your left hand once again. Your right hand flies to your nose and rubs it for some sort of relief.

Your eyes are still squeezed shut in pain as your right hand hovers over your nose. Haechan is silent even after you pose your question. You open your eyes and you see that you’re only a few inches from his face.

You freeze in place, right hand still over your nose as you lock eyes with the man you were tasked to kill.

His eyes bore into yours and they sparkle as they do.

“Hi gorgeous.” He whispers as he smiles at you.

You grab a pillow from beside you and smoosh it over his face and no, it has nothing to do with your heart racing a mile a minute. Death by asphyxiation. You can work with that.

Well, you could’ve worked with it until there was a knock at the door. Even though it was slightly ajar, you assume it’s protocol to knock before entering.

You roll your eyes and remove the pillow from Haechan’s face, allowing him to sit up and fix his appearance. Although, he misses his hair because it still looks an absolute mess. But you have to admit, he looks quite cute with his hair all ruffled… Hajoon enters shortly after his knock on the door and he sets the lemonade down onto the table. He bows and takes his leave, shutting the door as he does.

All of a sudden, you hear static. That’s not good. There must be some kind of frequency blocker in the door and now there’s no way for you to communicate. That’s fine. You don’t need him to complete your mission.

You finally remove your right hand from your face only to see blood covering your palm. Your eyes widen, but Haechan is the first to speak.

“Oh dear…” He hurriedly grabs a napkin from the snack tray and hands it to you. You grab the napkin from Haechan, and you retrieve a hand mirror from your bag. Assessing the damage, you carefully wet the napkin with the condensation from the pitcher of lemonade and gently wipe at your face. It’s really quiet, which is unusually for Haechan, so you look up only to see him already staring at you.

“All that blood looks good on you… It really brings out your eyes!” he awkwardly compliments you.

He has fear in his eyes and yet you burst out laughing.

You’re too busy laughing to respond. It isn’t until you’ve got all the giggles, laughs and chuckles out of the way when you speak up.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know you were so funny…” you trail off as you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye.

His chuckles are unsure, but his nerves give you confidence. So, you put a hand on his thigh, and his breath hitches.

“A compliment is hardly the first thing that comes out of the mouths of people who’ve made me bleed…” you say cryptically with a sly smile on your face.

He blinks at you with wide eyes,

“What? Has no one ever flirted back with you?” you ask, turning your body so you’re facing him. You inch closer and closer and he inches further and further until his head lays on the arm rest once again.

“Or are you frightened about what happens to people who’ve made me bleed?” you smugly inquire as you place your knees on either side of Haechan’s pelvis, his legs straightening onto the couch cushions in response.

You rest your right hand on Haechan’s cheek and it’s hot to the touch.

“What’s the matter, Haechan?” you pout and rub his cheek with your thumb.

“In all the times we’ve talked, you’ve never been this quiet. Tell me… what’s on your mind?” you say as you continue to caress his cheek.

He stares up at you, in an almost awestruck manner.

“You called me Haechan…” he whispers.

You break out laughing for the second time in the last 10 minutes because truly Lee Donghyuck must be one of the funniest creatures on Earth.

“Oh Haechan… regardless of the ambiguous nature of this conversation, you’re surprised that I called you ‘Haechan’? You are such an interesting creature…” you decide as you retract your hand from his cheek and put your full weight on Haechan’s hips.

You reach over to the table so you can grab a cracker, since you were robbed of it earlier. You hear him inhale and release a shaky exhale. You return your eyes to him and see that his eyebrows are knitted, and his eyes are closed.

“You are so incredibly pretty, Haechan. As anyone ever told you that?” you question, and he whimpers in response.

“You talk a big game for someone who folds so easily…” you note as you fiddled with your shoe.

“No one’s ever taken charge before…” he breathes out.

You quickly release the dagger stored in the sole of your shoe and swiftly press the cool metal to the flesh on Haechan’s neck.

His eyes flutter open and never has a man looked more attractive in your eyes.

“Even in the face of danger, you are the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on.” You say in amazement as you slowly return to sitting on Haechan’s pelvis, keeping the blade close to his throat.

“Oh my god…” he groans, bucking his hips into yours.

You tilt your head to the side. You can’t tell if it’s the thrill of having his life in the hands of others or if it’s the praise that gets him, but you’re determined to find out.

“Is that what you like to hear? You like hearing about how pretty you are?” you ask and he hurriedly nods his head, eyes still closed.

“Let me see those beautiful eyes, baby. Talk to me.” you purr, moving his bangs to the side and he slowly opens his eyes. They’re a bit glossy but they sparkle like they house the stars of a thousand galaxies. You can’t help but hold eye contact with the boy. It’s almost as if you’re stuck in a trance, until his voice breaks you out of it.

“Please…” he whispers, giving you the most sincere pair of puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Please?” you ask, encouraging Haechan to use his words.

“Please do something. Anything.” He pouts and he begs and you can’t help but mentally decide you would give Haechan absolutely everything he ever wanted. Although, it shouldn’t be too much given he probably already has everything he wants.

“My sweet boy…” you start, diligently removing the dagger from his throat and placing it on the table. You place your hand on his chest, right where his heart his, and you can feel it going a mile a minute. You smile, tracing shapes over the fabric of his sweater vest with your fingernail.

“It’s yours.” You finish and close the distance, placing a sweet kiss to Haechan’s pouty lips. He reacts immediately and his hands fly up to hold your cheeks and deepen the kiss. You flatten your hand on his chest and run your other through his soft locks. You lightly grasp at the roots and he moans into the kiss. You gently bite his bottom lip and he opens up immediately. It’s like playing a game. Everything you do has Haechan reacting like no tomorrow.

You pull apart to catch your breath and you see a string of saliva stretch between you and Haechan. He gazes up at you with an indescribable look in his eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that…” you whine as you push him away and cover his eyes.

“Someone seems a little shy.” He teases with a smirk.

Honestly, as a girl who was raised and trained to be an assassin, you don’t have much sexual experience. Which isn’t crazy to acknowledge because you’re a killer. You bring pain, not pleasure; but there’s something about Haechan that makes you feel emotions you’ve never experienced. All you know is that you wanna take care of him. You take a deep breath to steady your racing heart.

You stay like this for a few breaths until you lift your hands to peek at Haechan and find that he’s already looking back at you with those big, beautiful doe eyes. He smiles up at you and gently holds your wrists.

“Sweetheart, what do you wanna do? If you want to take charge, I’ll follow your lead, but if you don’t know what to do, I’ll happily take the reigns.” He offers supportively as he turns his head and kisses your palm.

“I… I want to have control, I just don’t know… how...” You cast your eyes down, deep in thought.

“But I want to try.” You say, determined. Haechan smiles at you, with… pride? You don’t analyze it too much. You remove your hands from his eyes and lower them so that you hold his face in your hands. You come face-to-face with your target and state your mission.

“Lee Haechan, I’m going to take care of you….” You bring his face mere centimeters from yours and place a quick kiss on his lips, “…my way.”

Your hands slide down from his cheeks, over his neck and land on his chest. You open up his blazer and stare at his sweater vest.

“First, we need to get rid of this…” you note. In the blink of an eye, you retrieve your dagger and with one swift move, Haechan’s sweater vest is torn right down the middle. His eyes widen, looking between you and his ripped sweater vest. His cheeks start to warm. You look down and note that his white button up doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Perfect.” You smile to yourself as you open his shredded vest the same way you did his blazer. Compared to the aggressive way you tore his vest to shreds; you slowly unbutton his shirt all the way down to the last button that stops right below his navel. You hear Haechan’s breathing start to get a little heavier. You smirk as you place your hands on his abs. He gasps at the contrast your cold hands offer to his warm abdomen.

Putting your hands on either side of his waist, you lean forward. You start with his cheeks. You kiss the beauty mark right above the corner of his mouth, moving to the mark near the junction between his jawline and his neck and you couldn’t miss the mole right over his Adam’s Apple. With every kiss you leave, Haechan hums in response.

You travel down from his neck to his chest. You slide your hands up his chest and your fingers rolls over his nipples, drawing a high-pitched moan from him. You pinch them and roll them between your fingers, each action pulling a delicious sound from Haechan. He mewls, and moans, and gasps, and every noise is like music to your ears. When you’re done, you leave a delicate kiss to each nipple, which has Haechan’s back arching.

Once again, you use your fingernails and slowly rake them down his abdomen, causing a shudder to rise up Haechan’s spine.

Tapping your nails against the metal of his belt buckle, you look up towards Haechan and like every other time, he’s already looking at you. His eyes are so glassy that you think a tear might fall if he were to blink.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll put you out of your misery now.” You promise, already working on taking his belt off. As you work to remove his belt and unbutton his pants, he’s already raising his hips. You smile as you slide his pants down his legs and toss them to the side, leaving him in his boxers. Well, his boxers and the top half of his school uniform.

There’s a wet patch on his boxers and it doesn’t take a genius to understand why. You rub your pointer finger over the patch and Haechan groans in response. He looks down at you with a pout on his face.

“Sorry, sorry.” You apologize, lowering his boxers to his thighs. Freeing his erection, you’re met with the sound of it slapping against his stomach and Haechan gasps.

“It’s so unfair that every part of you is so pretty…” you say, gathering the pre-cum from his tip and rubbing it down his shaft.

“Oh my god…” he whispers. With every movement that your wrist makes, he becomes more and more vocal. But it’s not enough. Gathering a small pool of saliva in your mouth, you let it drip out of your mouth and onto his cock. He hisses at the contact, gripping the head of the couch with his hand. You place a tender kiss to the tip of his angry cock, drawing out noises Haechan didn’t even know he was capable of producing.

Since you’ve successfully managed to lubricate him, you get to work. You rub your thumb over the tip and start pumping your hand up and down. His moans truly sounded like heaven on Earth.

“Oh, just like that… please please please…” he pleads. You smile because clearly you’re doing something right. You move a bit faster, making sure you give the occasional squeeze to the base of his cock. Haechan starts writhing.

“I thought you said… I thought… you didn’t know…” he starts losing the ability to speak in full sentences.

“I don’t.” you say, understanding what he wanted to say, “but I appreciate the ego boost.” You quip, beginning to massage his balls with your other hand.

“Ohhhhh yessss…” he drawls. Keeping a consistent pace, you see that his stomach starts to contract, and his breathing gets quicker.

“I’m gonna cum!” he shouts just in time for the ropes of cum to shoot onto his stomach. Your hand stills, unsure of what to do or where to put it so you just continue holding him until he stops cumming. Haechan’s breathing is still heavy but it starts to slow as he comes down. He raises his head and looks at you with hooded eyes.

“You… are a liar…” he huffs out and drops his head again. You start giggling because, who doesn’t like to get praised? You stare at the milky substance on Haechan’s stomach and curiosity gets the best of you. You bring his softening cock to your lips and lick at his tip, collecting any leftover cum with your tongue.

“AH!” he exclaims as his hips buck up towards your face. His head shoots up from the couch and he finds you with a thoughtful expression on your face.

“Sweet… but a little salty…” you note, smiling at him. He lets out a scoff of disbelief as he puts his weight onto his elbows. You let go of him and reach for the napkins on the table to clean him up. He watches you work diligently to wipe the cum off of his stomach. When you’ve got most of it off, you grab another napkin and gather the condensation from the lemonade pitcher, similar to what you did when you were cleaning your bloody nose. You’re almost done when Haechan raises his hand and pats your head. You pause and look up at him with wide eyes, which prompts him to speak.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly as he starts gently caressing your hair.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that?” you laugh and finish up by putting the used napkins in the little trash bin by the couch. He playfully rolls his eyes.

“I’d be a bit better if someone didn’t mangle my sweater.” He smirks as an expression of guilt crosses your features. You awkwardly chuckle, looking down at his abdomen to see his mangled sweater hanging open. He ruffles your hair, causing you to close your eyes.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.” He jokes, removing his hand from your hair. Haechan shrugs off his blazer and sweater vest, leaving him in his unbuttoned, white button up. You sit up, wanting to give him space.

He drapes his outerwear over the back of the couch and faces you. There’s a look in his eyes, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Haechan puts his hands out in front of him, flipping them so that his palms face upwards. You look down at his hands and then up to his face. He smiles, he briefly glances down at his hands and returns his gaze to you. Getting the message, you rest your hands in his. He closes his hands in response and gently caresses your hand.

It’s nice, but then in the blink of an eye, he has you on your back and your hands pinned above your head. You stare up at him, surprised by this turn of events. He smirks and comes close to your ear, his hair tickling your nose.

“Now… it’s my turn to take care of you ~”

[velvetvexations]

I have the forcefem meme blog blocked but someone I follow put a post of her's on my dash and she's just straight up saying "this isn't a kink blog, the way I do forcefem isn't kinky" and I swear my brain stopped working entirely for a second. I don't think there's anything wrong with kinks changing with a subculture or community or becoming memes but like. Come on. Forcefem is a kink, that's what it is. I try not to get too worked up about this blog because it's not good for me and my judgement does get clouded by the dysphoria it triggers but like, it really does genuinely worry me the way the meme-ification of forcefem has completely divorced the kink element from what is still very fucking clearly a kink. This whole "I'm not doing it in a kink way" is not a get out of kink free card, and it's a piss poor excuse for going around and flooding this website with kink stuff that now essentially cannot be avoided in trans spaces. No other kink that has like, a potentially sfw angle has a community that acts like this about it, people who do like bootblacking performances where no explicitly sexual acts take place still make it clear this is a kink thing so people can avoid it if they want, and there are huge arguments in furry communities over if you can even do "sfw" vore because vore is a kink even when no traditional sex acts are being depicted. Every other kink community gets that even when no one is fucking, a kink is still a kink and should be treated as such for the safety of everyone, why should THIS be the exception??

Ugh anyway sorry didn't want this to turn into a rant, I really don't think there's anything wrong with doing a fun sfw kind of forcefem with people who consent but like, as a kinky person who cares a lot about kink and BDSM history and communities the blatant refusal to consider forcefem a kink AT ALL is concerning. You cannot un-kink-ify it, this is a kink goddamn it and when you stop treating it as such you open up a LOT of unsafe grey areas on top of making it borderline impossible for people who are squicked out by it to avoid it because no one is going to tag for something they think is a harmless, gender-affirming, tgirl approved meme.

Idk tho maybe I'm letting my own dysphoria get in the way, feel free to check me if that's the case I will take the L with grace, but I just feel like this "It's not a kink when I do it" thing is...in poor taste, at the very least. I don't think it's intentionally malicious either I just don't like it when we stop recognizing that a kink is a kink.

I advocate tirelessly for being able to live BDSM relationships in public to the extent that "normal" relationships are allowed, but what I do not do is say I should get to snap a collar around a random girl's neck and drag her off because it's just a lifestyle. Like fuck off with "it's not a kink," IT IS, and it is NON-CON.

My biggest fan can't shut up about me supposedly calling trans women groomers because I think it's bad for trans men to say they want to cure trans women's "comphet," but you know what's also sexually coercive? Shoving your non-con fetish at people, many of whom are going to have reasons to be outright triggered by it, and then call it fine because it's so totally non-sexual.

SATIRE BEGIN

Well, okay, fine, start making indiscriminate forcemasc jokes at women. It's not a kink! There's nothing wrong with being a trans man! How could they possibly complain?

SATIRE END

That's a rhetorical question too, the answer is that they'd be massive hypocrites about it and say some dumbass shit like "transmascs just invented forcemasc to gentrify our fet I MEAN NOT A FETISH" or "trans men shouldn't care about being forcefemmed because there's nothing wrong with it but being a man is Bad."

[worldcleansingdragon]

Thinking about Dan Heng and Himeko's relationship...

They're literally mother and her son, your honor! Himeko was the one who found Dan Heng and, after he helped her, she offered him becoming a nameless.

(the fact that Dan Heng only joined in after she said he can leave whenever is incredibly sad.)

Himeko is a really observant person, I imagine she saw that Dan Heng did want to join, but was hesitant. That's why she started saying all those things, not to force him into joining but to make him realize that he wants to join out of his own free will.

Himeko notices everything about Dan Heng. She noticed how he became less cold and more open to TB and March, she noticed how much more comfortable he is, she noticed that he wouldn't even join if he hadn't been given an actual job.

That brings me to a pure headcanon of mine:

At first, Dan Heng disliked Himeko. He disliked her because of how observant she was and how easily she could see right through him.

Dan Heng is a person who appears to be stoic, cold, and a one who, quite frankly, doesn't give a fuck. Yet Himeko immediately noticed how he wanted to join, she immediately noticed that he isn't a cold-hearted douchebag but a kind child, who's been hurt by the world. Himeko has read through him the moment he stepped onto the Express.

And Dan Heng probably hated that.

He respected her as his senior, as someone with lots of knowledge. Yet, the way she could read him like an open book was too much. He felt watched by her, even if it wasn't true. He felt like Himeko would use it against him.

Yet, Himeko never did. She would never use that knowledge against him. If so, it only helped. Himeko probably knew about Dan Heng's nightmares, she was there for him countless of times. She didn't say anything about them, she just sat with him, waited till he calmed down and fell asleep. The next day, she didn't try to talk with him about it, no. She left it the way it was.

Dan Heng realized that maybe Himeko's observation skills weren't so bad. Perhaps, they worked in his favour. He didn't have to voice out the vulnerable feelings that we're threatening to spill. Himeko would notice and wait for him, she would never try and make him talk.

That's when Dan Heng has begun to warm up to Himeko, the same way he did to Welt.

We also know that Himeko makes extremely bitter coffee... And Dan Heng is the only express member who can handle it.

Is it because he genuinely likes it? Does he want to test his senses? Or maybe, he doesn't want to upset the woman who has given him love, home and comfort when he needed it the most? Who knows.

What we definitely know is how badly Dan Heng respects Himeko and how he's ready to help her with everything, just for giving him a chance. "Himeko, you can leave any contingencies to me." is probably his way of thanking her for all she has done for him. He wants to take things off of her shoulders and show her how grateful he is.

(Also, in the JP dub, he calls her "Himeko-San", which also says a lot about his respect towards her.)

[hee0soo]

How quick things can change...

Pairing — Kang Yeosang x Reader

Summary — A lot of things change in life. Some from good to bad and from bad to worse. And some go from worse to even worse real quick....

Genre — horror, angst

AU/Trope Info — SerialKiller au

Wordcount — 1.4k

Warnings — murder, manipulation, blood, knives, mention of guns, torture, death

Rating — NSFW ☕️☕️☕️☕️

A/N — @surveilenceysystem merry christmas and i hope you like your present... i know you said you like all things horror but writing this my mind went into some very dark places to the point i was scared it's to much. It's still a fear tbh

Anyways all the things you chose in your little game led to this and if you wanna know what everything meant then hit me up☺️

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

A year ago your life had been simple.

Going to university, studying something you were passionate about while slaving away over course work and a side job to keep you afloat. It was hard but calm, almost to calm if not to say boring.

Yes, you were bored of your life as it was. The same routines, the same people and the same things being drilled into your head by your family and friends.

“Just concentrate on your studies! Go out with friends and be good.”

Be good.

Funny, and ironic when you thought back on it.

Nobody would think what had become of you ever since you had met him.

Kang Yeosang, finished with university, a bit older and with an aura that was darker than most souls would expect when seeing his sweet, innocent and almost ethereal beauty for the first time.

He hid it well.

The darkness that lingered in his eyes when he smiled. The things he said with the most innocent of voices sometimes, making it look like he didn´t know what he was talking about when the contrary was the case.

He was… fascinating…

Your friends after all this time had still not know what to make of him, but they knew one thing. You had changed and none of them like it.

And they were right. You did change. After all, a year ago you wouldn´t have reveled in the fear of girls trying to get away from your clutches, sending a shot of pure adrenaline through your veins and making you feel more a life then you had ever felt. It was liberating in a way. Watching as they struggled once they fell into the trap you had set with Yeosang, now your lover, dragging them away together to your own little fantasy land as the man called it.

Catching the blood that was running down the sobbing girl’s forehead with your thumb you grinned at her before sticking your finger into your mouth, licking the liquid of with such pleasure one would think you ate candy.

“Don´t worry darling, it would hurt all that much…” you grinned like a cat that caught her mouse, causing the shaking girl to whimper in fear when she couldn´t free herself from the bindings holding her in place.

Yeosang was sat in his favorite old bean bag that had more stitches then fabric holding it together, enjoying the way you played with the present you had been given by him. He had noticed how restless you had become since the last one, giving him the idea to for once let you do as you pleased with it. He watched as you trailed the butterfly knife he had given you once he had introduced you to his life down her throat before cutting into her skin.

The girl screamed in pure terror and pain at the blade cutting into her skin and he could feel his dick harden in his pants.

You cooed at her. Taunting her with sweet little words that did nothing but make you more excited for what you were going to do. He was proud to see what he had made out of you.

The once good a diligent girl was now a killer that precisely did what she needed to do without regret.

You took a knife away slowly, walked around the chair, circling like a lion did her pray, grabbing into her hair and puling harshly on it. The scared girl cried out and you reacted by plunging the blade into her back. Warm blood ran down her back, dripping onto the floor and staining the once white carpet underneath her dark.

The dried patches littering the fabric being proof that many had sat in the poor girls position already.

“Pleaseee… let me go… “She whimpered weakly after having calmed down a bit and you snickered.

“No.” you said and stabbed her once more. Her voice had given out, only little noises of pain slipping out at this point.

The injuries she had sustained making her weak, life bleeding out of her with every drop of blood she lost until she was quiet.

“Now that wasn´t much fun, was it? She was dead way to quick!” you complained with a huff. Yeosang laughed quietly.

“You´re too impatient baby. Drag it out more, let them feel their pain. Let them feel how their own blood grows cold as it spills all over the floor underneath them.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“You didn´t let that detective feel his blood grow cold when you shot him in that alley.”

Coming closer you sat in his lap and buried your head in his shoulder.

“I did that to give you a chance to get away, or would you have wanted me to let them catch you?”

You shook your head.

“See, that was a different situation.” Yeosang grabbed your face and forced you to look at him by the chin. “And I do not want you to get us into another one like that ever again… do we understand each other?”

Now in moments like this, even you felt the coldness of his demeanor and a shudder ran down your spine.

“Yes, I’m sorry!”

Yeosang nodded and his serious expression left as quickly as it had come. His hold softened, turning his hand and gently stroked the side of your face.

“Great! Now finish this up and then come join me in bed. It´s late already and listening to our new doll scream made me tired.” He smiled brightly and walked past you towards the door.

Yeosang was an enigma and sometimes his hot and cold behavior through you for a spin. Like right now. But you did as you were told. Cleaning away the blood splattered all over you, the floor and your different tools you had used on the poor, now dead girl held up by the chair.

Your lover, already ready to go to sleep looked like a teddy with his soft and fluffy pjs, hair falling over his eyes and pouting that you took too long for his taste. It threw you for a spin.

“I´m gonna- get ready…” you sighed, feeling his eyes follow you until the bathroom door closed behind you.

---------

It took everything in Yeosang not to let his eye twitch at your playing around with your food. This was not what he had taught you and quite frankly, it annoyed the fuck out of him that you seemed to be getting sloppy.

Almost bored by the sight of the night, he itched to get the spark of something new back. Something that brought back the thrill of killing. The adrenaline rush that made him feel alive again and gave him something to look forward to upon opening his eyes in the morning.

And try as he might, he couldn´t find that same spark anymore.

He watched your sleeping form by his side. Things had to change and there was only one thing he knew that could achieve that.  Now he just had to wait…

The next day both you and him got rid of the body a little outside of Seoul in a forest barely anyone ever went to. It was the ideal place for your little escapades to drown their evidence in a lake surrounded by trees.

His favorite knife that he liked to carry under his jacket safely hidden out of immediate sight as to not seem suspicious to any wandering hikers that could possibly encounter them.

The trash bag vanished in the deep and Yeosang turned to face you.

A year ago he had seen potential in those eyes of yours. Now he didn´t know what he saw anymore.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” you asked and whipped at your cheek.

No… he did know…

Reaching calmly underneath his jacket he whispered sickeningly sweet, “Run.”

Horrified you froze, not wanting to realize what his words meant. But knowing what laid under the padding of his jacket you knew exactly what was about to happen.

You spun around; dropping everything you were still holding and ran as fast as you could.

Stamina had never been your thing and the freezing winter air hurt your lungs as your legs threatened to give out underneath you but Yeosang was still hot on your heels and you were determined to win this race for, as ironic as this was, your life.

“Oh, come on baby, you know you can´t escaped.” Yeosang chuckled darkly from a few meters away. You couldn´t see him but you knew he was there. Panting you hid behind a thick tree to catch your breath, looking back to check constantly when you gasped in pain all of a sudden.

The knife, previously in Yeosang’s hand was sticking out of your side.

“I´m sorry it had to come to this, but things have changed…” he whispered into your ear before everything went dark.

[zaineviu]

❛𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳❜ - L.F (SKZ)

synopsis. My life is unfair. The one and only woman I love left me unprepared. I'm staring down at my own petals falling one by one... And piece by piece. I can't feel any peace in my heart.

pairings. felix x fem!reader.

content. angst, felix angst, breakup, heartbreak, inappropriate language in some sentences, felix doesn't get over his breakup with you, brief mention of Hyunjin and Jisung. Inspired by Felix's song ‘Unfair’ (I LOVE THAT DAMN SONG WITH ALL MY HEART). This shot is based on Lixie's pov!

wc. 3,079

a/n. Something quite sad, I love writing angst, and I hope you enjoy suffering with me.

Don't forget to comment, so I know you like what I write and encourage me to keep writing.

Ever since you came into my life... ... You taught me all about unconditional love.

Since you came into his life, everything changed. Not immediately, of course. At first, it was slow, like the dawn that barely illuminates a dark room. But when it did, you dazzled him.

Remember how you used to talk to him about unconditional love, how you taught him to believe in something he thought only existed in the songs you sang as a duet on the way home. Your words were his anchor, and your smiles… damn, your smiles were all he needed to survive the darkest days.

He couldn't even think straight without being able to think about you for a second, he was too in love to even admit it.

Looking at you from afar, watching your hair slide down your shoulders as you concentrated on what you were doing, his heart beating fast in his anxious chest looking for you to look at him the same way he was looking at you now.

Eyes so big and so bright that…

"You'll eat flies if you keep opening your mouth like that", Hyunjin laughed loudly behind them, shoving Han when he looked at him with a huge grin, Felix just looked at them with a shrug.

"I don't have my mouth open."

"You do, mate, and wide open", Han laughed this time wildly and smashed his palm into Hyunjin's who shoved him again breaking free from his embrace.

Felix just shrugged his shoulders once more.

He just couldn't stop looking at you.

Such a pretty girlfriend, imagining you being your boyfriend made his stomach a home for his rambunctious butterflies.

That afternoon, when she came with a smile, something in her smile made everything feel lighter. The idea of going straight home vanished when she proposed a walk. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and before they knew it, they were walking to the nearest park.

The sun was beginning to descend, tinting the sky with shades of orange and pink. The shadows of the trees danced in the breeze, and the sound of the leaves accompanied our steps. She laced her fingers with his, and her touch was enough to calm the chaos that always seemed to dwell in his mind.

"Lixie", she began, her voice soft and full of peace for the intimate moment, "have you ever thought about what love really means?"

Felix, confused by her question, but also intrigued, looked at her and shook his head. She smiled, that smile that always managed to disarm him completely, the one that he fell for first.

"It's when you love someone without expecting anything in return," she continued, the boy just waited for you to go on, trying to figure you out. You were silent for a few seconds, trying to convey what you wanted to say. "Not because he's perfect, but because you just… love everything he is. His flaws, his fears, his good and bad moments…. It becomes your priority, you look after their wellbeing and care for them, that's love…. When you give something to someone without expecting anything in return."

Her gaze was lost for a moment on the horizon before she turned back to him, her eyes shining, a smile that could only be called his, you were as much in love as he was. "I feel that way about you, Felix."

His chest tightened, unable to process the immensity of her words. He wanted to say something, anything, but he gasped, caught in the sincerity of your confession.

Of your love.

"You don't have to say anything," she added, gently squeezing her hand. "I just want you to know that I'm here, always."

The sun finally set, leaving behind a sky that was beginning to fill with stars.

And in that moment, in that dim light, Felix could only look at you as you slept on his lap, with the lights of the lanterns surrounding them under a tree, you in his arms.

You taught him that love has no limits, that even on days when he couldn't handle the weight of the world, you still found room for him.

‘You promised a always that you knew would be a goodbye disguised as love.’

I think about you saving me every night. Felt like an angel sent from above.

It was normal, this feeling of need, to always have you in his arms, to keep you with him no matter how much you said it was a lot of love at that moment.

Loving you was too easy for him.

Your body close to him, so soft and warm that you seemed like a cozy blanket on top of him, Felix was delighted.

That night, as he lay down in his bed, your image came back to his mind. Thinking of you was inevitable, as if his mind had created a sacred space reserved just for you. Every time his days became heavy, you were there, saving him with a word, a look or a smile. It was as if your mere existence was enough to remove the shadows that sometimes wrapped around him.

Sometimes he felt selfish for loving you so much, but he couldn't help it. He thought about how you came into his life, like an angel sent to remind him that even in his worst moments, he could find something good, something real. The way you saw through him, the way you made him feel enough, gave him enough strength to stay alive.

With his eyes closed, he allowed himself to hold you tightly.

'I fell asleep with your name on my lips, hoping that, at least in my dreams, you could save me again.'

All I see is your shining beauty. Hope you can see the human in me. Will your truе love be the onе to free me?

Felix adjusted the scarf around his neck, the cold biting his cheeks as he walked aimlessly through the city. Neon lights flickered over puddles of water on the pavement, reflecting a world that seemed to move too fast for him to keep up.

Everything seemed to work perfectly for everyone else, like gears clicking into place on a clock.

The world seemed to keep pace.

Except he didn't seem to keep pace.

There was something unsettling about the way your image popped into his mind, without permission, at the most inopportune times. He wasn't even sure when it had started.

Maybe the first time he saw you laughing in that record store, with the sun streaming through the windows and drawing soft shadows on your face.

You had caught his attention like a spark in the dark, but now that spark was almost painful, a constant flame that burned and consumed him.

He felt miserable walking aimlessly while thinking about you.

It was funny how something so fleeting became his current torture, from how you left him stranded in the nothingness while you decided to leave without saying goodbye.

He felt like a fool believing things he knew were going to happen sooner or later.

It wasn't something he wanted to admit, not even to himself. But there was a brutal clarity to the fact that he couldn't get you out of his head.

He had learned to live with it, to keep quiet, because it was easier to hide behind his thoughts than to face the inevitable: that maybe you would never look at him the same way, that your love was fleeting, and that was okay, he didn't hate that fact.

He hated that you had made him fall in love, that you had spoiled him so much with your love, that you had made him addicted to you, that now he looked like a drug addict without his drug.

He came to a corner and stopped, watching the traffic go by. People came and went, each one busy with their own lives, while he felt his own freeze at that exact point. It wouldn't matter if he just crossed and a car ran him over.

At least you'd find out and go see him at his funeral, right?

Seeing you was an idea that tormented him.

It wasn't about the superficial beauty, the kind words or the smiles he offered to others. It was about everything he didn't show: his flaws, his insecurities, the scars he carried like an invisible weight.

You knew him so well that it scared him to the point, you knew the exact number of freckles he had, the amount of moles on his body, how he likes to sleep, even the most obvious flaws like bathing barefoot or sleeping without turning off all the lights.

Did you ever wonder what he was hiding behind those eyes?

He doubted it. Not because he thought you weren't interested, but because he knew you already knew.

Maybe it was easier to keep things that way, with distance as a shield.

But there were nights, like this one, when he allowed himself to dream of a different world. One where you could look at him and understand him. A world where your love, if it ever became real, would be enough to free him from this internal prison he had built himself.

You tore down all the walls he had worked so hard to build, taking him, his thoughts, all of whom there was nothing left.

He wasn't the kind of person who expected rescues. Yet there was something about you, something about the way you brightened even the grayest of days, that made him wonder if you could be the exception.

The rain began to fall softly, and Felix stood still, letting the drops cool his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the sounds of the city mixed with his own thoughts.

He had no answers that night, but he didn't need them either. He had learned to live with uncertainty, with the longing he didn't dare name.

Because deep down, he knew that your presence, even if only in his mind, was the only thing that made all of this worth it.

Even if you were no longer with him.

My life is so unfair... ... I'm still left in despair.

The sound of your laughter echoed in his head like a persistent echo, one he couldn't silence no matter how hard he tried. Felix couldn't help it: everything around him seemed to revolve around you.

But while you continued on, unconcerned, he remained trapped, a silent observer on the sidelines of your story.

He sat on a bench under the dim light of a street lamp, raindrops slowly soaking his hair.

The words of an unsent message kept floating in his mind. He had written it to you a thousand times, always in different forms, but he never dared to press "send."

He didn't know what scared him more: the possibility that you wouldn't respond or that you would, but only to confirm that you didn't feel the same way.

After so much time together, so much time apart, he didn't even know that you would respond anymore.

It wasn't the kind of thought he liked to indulge in, but that night, sitting in the dark with the cold seeping into his bones, it felt more real than ever.

It was unfair how every little gesture of yours seemed to light a fire in his chest while you, probably, weren't even aware of it. It was unfair how your words, always casual, became little treasures that he jealously guarded, even though you probably didn't even want a single one of them.

But what hurt him the most was the feeling that it could never be enough.

No matter how hard he tried to get closer, there was always something stopping him.

A deep, rooted fear that whispered to him that no matter how much you shined in his life, he would always be relegated to being a shadow.

Loving you hurt.

The confession wasn't something he could say out loud, but he felt it with every fiber of his being. Despair wasn't just sadness; it was a constant weight, a void he couldn't fill, no matter how hard he tried. It was the realization that even if you saw him, you could never see him the way he wanted to.

Your love was never real anyway.

Felix closed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh. He hated himself for feeling this way, for wanting something that seemed so out of reach. But more than anything, he hated himself for not having the courage to change it.

As the rain intensified, he slowly stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets and starting to walk again. There was no place he wanted to go, but standing still felt like giving up, and giving up wasn't an option.

The injustice of his situation was still there, like a thorn in his side, but so was the small spark of hope that he couldn't extinguish, no matter how hard he tried.

Because even though he didn't know if you could ever see him, he held on to the idea that somehow, it was worth it to stay there, waiting.

Always waiting for you.

Just when I thought that god... ... Had answered my whole prayer.

He stood still, staring at the empty space in front of him, as if waiting for something to change.

The room they shared, now silent, seemed so much bigger without you, emptier than he had ever imagined.

The promise of an eternal love was left behind, dissolved in the words no longer spoken, in the gestures no longer exchanged.

He had been so sure that he had finally found what he had always wanted.

As if, somehow, God had heard his prayers, having given him the love he so longed for.

A connection that seemed complete, as if all the pieces fit together perfectly in his life. The feeling that everything he had wanted for years, everything he had lost along the way, was within his reach.

He thought that, at last, he had found peace. That the uncertainty of his existence would vanish when he had someone to share it with. Everything seemed perfect, so natural and so easy. Until it wasn't.

The breakup had come abruptly, almost without warning, and it left a deeper mark on Felix than he had anticipated. In his mind, the image of everything he thought he had gained was crumbling, without explanation, without reason. What seemed to have been a clear and definitive answer to his prayers vanished into thin air, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness, as if the love he had felt had never been real.

"I think it's best that we break up."

He couldn't speak.

"I don't think being together is the best thing right now, Lixie."

He couldn't deny it.

"I stopped loving you."

He didn't react.

He felt like everything he had given, everything he had invested in that relationship, had been lost.

Despair began to take its place, like a shadow that lengthened, occupying every corner of his being.

How could he have been so blind? How could he have believed that, at last, everything would make sense?

Now there was only confusion and pain, a sense of being left behind, as if everything he had dreamed and prayed for so long had slipped away, perhaps forever.

Felix fell back onto the bed, head in his hands, feeling the heaviness of the moment crushing him. The answers he had hoped for, the promises he had believed, were gone, leaving behind only an echo of what could have been.

He had lost everything.

You were his everything.

After I let you go... ... And saw you out the door.

Felix stood, watching you walk towards the door.

Every step you took seemed heavier, and the silence that filled the room only made the weight of the goodbye more real.

His hands were cold, shaking slightly, but he didn't dare move them.

He couldn't.

He didn't know what to do, what to say.

He couldn't find the words.

"Felix…" Your voice, cracked, made his chest tighten, but he didn't say anything.

He looked at you, foolishly hoping you would change your mind. But you didn't.

"Please don't," he murmured, his eyes searching yours, but he only found indifference.

You sighed and, with one last look, walked over to the door. Felix swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest. It was as if time had stopped.

"Is this really what you want?" He asked, his voice shaking, though he tried to sound firm.

You paused for a moment, staring at the ground. “It’s not what I want, Felix,” you said quietly. “But it’s what I have to do. I’m sorry.”

Felix felt the ground crumble beneath his feet. “Do you have to? Do you, really? Leave me like this?” His throat closed up. He tried to speak, but the words caught. “We… we had it, we had it all! Don’t you see? We tried! We made it work! We can make it work!”

You turned to him, your eyes glassy, ​​but there was no trace of doubt in them. “We tried, yes, but… I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep fooling myself, or you. I love you, Felix, but this… it’s not working.”

The words fell on him like a loss. “No… No, please. It’s not like that.” Felix took a step towards you, reaching out his hand, but you didn't take it. The distance between the two of you seemed to have suddenly widened, as if you were no longer within reach of his love.

"I'm sorry, Felix. You don't understand, but this is what's best for both of us." You opened the door, and for a second, Felix thought you might back out.

But you didn't.

"No! Don't go! You can't do this!" Felix screamed, his words filled with desperation. But your eyes only looked at him one last time, and you turned away.

"I stopped loving you." Was all you said before you completely disappeared from his life.

The sound of the door closing echoed in his ears like a blow, a lash to his soul. He stood there, staring into space, not moving, not knowing what to do. Everything he had dreamed of, everything he had believed in, crumbled in that instant. The empty room reminded him of what he had lost.

There was nothing left.

Felix stood there, alone, with the words he could never say hanging in the air.

The door was already closed, and with it, it seemed like all his chances had vanished.

Somehow, he knew he could never explain to you how deep his love was, or how much you meant to him.

Pain enveloped him, but so did the sadness of knowing that words would never have been enough to save what was already broken.

He loved you, but that, sadly, wasn't enough to keep you by his side.

All that was left now was the echo of what was, a goodbye left unsaid, a love lost without being fully understood.

He couldn't even confess how much he loved you before you left.

I wanted you to know... ... How much I love you so.

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start A Family (Extra: Telling the Parents & Celebrating the Holidays)

Summary: It's time to celebrate the holidays with Mitch, Harry, and Sarah's families but before that can happen, you need to fill them in on the truth about your relationship.

WC: 3.2K

CW: mentions of past family deaths, alcohol consumption

AN: I've been feeling oddly nostalgic about the beginning of this series (I cannot believe I posted the first chapter a year and a half ago!). I wasn't sure exactly where this extra would take me, but I like that I was able to go down memory lane a little bit.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first holiday season spent as a foursome was very laid back. You were still recovering from your pneumonia and septic infection, so it was decided very quickly that you would take it easy. You’d spent quality time together doing all of the classic Christmas traditions. 

Your favorite thing about that time was naps by the tree. You, Sarah, Mitch, and Harry had spent an afternoon together decorating it, and it looked perfect. The living room looked straight out of a Christmas card, and was just so cozy, especially with the fireplace going and jazzy holiday music playing softly in the background. Plus your girlfriend and boyfriends were more than happy to cuddle you at any time.

So yea, snuggles on the couch while living in a winter wonderland was the happiest Christmas you’d had in years.

This year though. This year would be a bit different. Not bad! Just, a lot more activity. 

All four of you would be traveling to England to spend the holidays with Harry and Sarah’s families. 

You had worked out a system that would make everyone happy. Thanksgiving with Mitch’s family, Christmas with Harry’s and New Years with Sarah’s. It was the perfect plan! 

Except that you hadn’t yet told their families that all four of you are in a relationship. And you all knew that had to happen before seeing them for the holidays. 

You’d been with Mitch and Sarah for a year and a half at this point, and Harry and joined a few months later. But no one really knew how to explain the details of your relationship. Sure the four of you were always together, but everyone assumes it was two separate couples, like a constant double date situation. It’s time to finally set the story straight.

You start with Mitch’s parents, since you see them somewhat frequently. When you sit down and tell them, it’s clear that they’re confused. But after a bit of explaining, they seem to understand. Or at least they try their best, but it’s definitely a learning curve. You’re all just relieved that they’re not upset in any way, and after a couple more dinners together, it’s clear that Mark and Tammy are fully on board and supportive.

Sarah’s family is next, done over Facetime. They’re very free spirited, and apparently a four person relationship is no big deal to them. They like Harry, and they’ve heard good things about you from Sarah, and seeing more people love their daughter is a good thing in their eyes.

Harry’s family is last, also done on video calls. You start with his sister, Gemma, since she has been around the four of you most. When Harry starts to explain she has a look on her face you can’t quite figure out. 

“Guys, you think we don’t know?” Gemma says when Harry is done telling the story.

All four of you are taken aback, not having gotten this reaction yet.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

“Mum and I have known for a while,” she says. 

“How long?” You ask.

“We started wondering last year when you were sick. I guess we technically didn’t know for sure, but we’ve assumed since then,” she answers. 

With this new information, you guys decide to add Harry’s mum into the call. She’s confused at first but Gemma cheekily says, “They have something to tell you,” and Anne’s face turns from befuddled to knowing.

It’s an easy conversation, and she is nothing but happy that the four of you have each other.

With all the families in the know, your stress over the holiday season has lifted. Now you’re just excited to actually celebrate with other people. In the years since your immediate family had died, you’d always received invites to spend the holidays with friends or more distant relatives. 

It was nice to be included, but it hurt more to see these happy full families celebrating together. The year prior to meeting Sarah, Mitch, and Harry you had decided to stay home for the holidays. It was dark, and lonely, but at least you didn’t have to pretend to be happy and having fun. 

But now you have people to share it with. And you find yourself counting down the days with excitement rather than dread. 

Thanksgiving at Mitch’s parents isn’t all that different from a typical dinner with them. But you are in that small group who actually loves turkey and all the traditional sides, so it’s a real treat for you. 

The house is decorated with classic autumn colors and the lights are dimmed, allowing candles to create a soft glow for the evening. 

It’s so lovely to be able to share affection with all your partners. For so long you could only be this close with Harry, and it always made you feel like you were leaving the others out. 

While you’re not huge fans of public displays of affection, there are occasional kisses and hand holding. When you all retire to the living room to chill with some post dinner drinks, Mitch’s parents don’t bat an eye that you are curled up to Mitch’s side while Sarah and Harry sit close together. 

You know it must be a lot for them to come to terms with, having seen their son with his wife for years. Learning he now has another boyfriend and girlfriend is a big change, and you’re grateful that they are so chill about it. 

Later you’re in the kitchen washing some of the wine glasses when Mitch’s mom comes up to you.

“I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised,” she says.

“About what?” you ask curiously.

“About the four of you. When Mitch started working with Harry, he talked about him all the time. Which, as you know, is a bit out of character for him. Part of me thought maybe something was going to happen between the two boys. When Mitch met Sarah he couldn't stop talking about her either, and it was clear there was something special there. And then came you.”

She pauses for a moment, but before you can worry she continues. “During the hardest time in my life, you appeared, like an angel who delivers delicious Italian food,” she says with a laugh. “From the start you were family to us. I could see the way Mitch and Sarah cared about you. And there was a shift after that weekend Mark and I spent at the cabin and you stayed here with them. When you told them about your family. I thought they were just more protective after hearing that your loved ones had passed. But it was more than that, wasn’t it?”

You blush and shyly answer, “That was the first time they kissed me.”

“I figured. And you’re happy with the three of them? They make you happy, take care of you?”

“Oh absolutely. They’re wonderful to me, all of them. I feel so safe and loved when I’m with them,” you reply.

“Then that’s what matters. I will say, it’s a bit of a new concept to me, but the four of you seem to have something special, and I’m glad you all have each other. And if there’s anything you ever need, you know I’m here for you too, right?”

You smile and nod before she pulls you in for a tight hug. 

Having finished up in the kitchen the two of you walk back to the living room together, and you catch the pleased look on Mitch’s face as he watches you interact with his mom. The evening wraps up shortly after that, and the four of you make your way home. 

In bed that night you reflect on your conversation with Tammy. You know that no one will ever replace your parents, but it’s nice to have people so willing to help fill that gap in your life. With a full heart, you fall asleep wrapped in Sarah’s arms. 

The next couple of weeks fly by in a flurry of holiday planning. 

When it’s time for your flight to England, you’re happy to have three people to travel with. Sure, you’re good at being independent, and you’ve managed to travel solo a few times before, but it’s always nice to have other people with you. Especially when the weather delays, then cancels your flight. You’re impressed watching Harry so quickly fix the situation and get you all on a new flight leaving only a couple hours late.

You’re all tired once you finally take off, and you rest your head against Harry’s shoulder, trying, and mostly failing to nap. 

When you arrive in England, it’s clear your group has been spotted. Harry keeps an arm around you, ensuring you’re protected in case there are any fans or paps who get out of hand.

Luckily it seems to be just a few respectful fans who only want to say hi. They aren’t disappointed when Harry politely tells them he has to keep moving, as his sister is there to pick them up and he doesn’t want to keep her waiting. 

When you do make it outside, Gemma comes running up, first hugging her brother, then pulling you in a tight embrace. “I’m so glad you’re all here!” she exclaims as she hugs Mitch and Sarah as well. You all load into the car, and Gemma begins the drive to their mum's house. 

Anne greets you with warm hugs and a delicious meal, fretting over all of you after your long day of traveling. After everyone finishes eating lunch, Harry quickly gets up to start cleaning the dishes. 

“Put that down, love,” Anne says. “I appreciate the help, but you guys look like you’re about to pass out. You should go rest for a little bit. Harry, show them up to your room, everything is ready for you all.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, ever the helpful gentleman.

“I’m sure. Go rest so you can help me with dinner,” she replies with a smirk.

Harry does as he’s told and leads the three of you up to his bedroom. He’s surprised when he opens the door and sees his desk is gone in order to make room for a new, very large bed.

“Mum, what is all this?” he shouts out.

Anne appears and answers, “Well, I figured the four of you would be quite squished on your old bed. It was starting to wear anyway, so this made the most sense.”

“You didn’t have to do that. At the very least I should be paying for it-”

“Nonsense,” she says, cutting him off. “I’m happy to do it. I want you all to be comfortable here. Make sure you keep coming back for visits!” she jokes.

“Thank you,” Harry says, leaning down to give her another hug. 

“Of course my darling. Now go, rest, all of you,” she replies, ushering the four of you into the room.

She’s absolutely right about you guys being tired, and within minutes all of you are asleep in a big jumble on the bed. 

Feeling refreshed later that evening, you have a lovely dinner with Anne, ending the night with Christmas movies in the living room. 

The next day is Christmas Eve, and there’s much preparation that needs to be done. Luckily there are plenty of you to help with all of the cleaning and cooking, since a bit of Harry’s extended family will be coming for dinner. 

Around midday you’re in the kitchen with Anne, helping prepare some of the side dishes. You work in companionable silence for a while, and you can’t help but think about your family. How you wish they were here with you, could see how happy you are. A wave of grief threatens to overwhelm you, but then Harry pops in the room, giving you a big smile and pressing a kiss to your head. 

Mitch and Sarah enter a moment later, their faces bright and cheerful as well, and just like that they’ve prevented overwhelming grief. You’re still sad, still miss your family, but this reminder of the love you have surrounded you makes it bearable. 

The evening is lovely, and you enjoy getting to meet more of Harry’s relatives. The dinner is delicious, and everyone shares happy stories. It’s a room filled with joy, but even then, you still feel just a bit of sadness for those who are missing.

In bed that night you curl up next to Sarah, Mitch on your other side and Harry behind him. 

Sensing that something is on your mind, Sarah asks, “Are you alright, love?”

“Yea,” you reply in a quiet voice. “I just love you all, so much. Thank you for loving me.”

They know that there’s more than what you’re saying, but you’ve been together long enough that they don’t have to ask. Holidays are hard for you, and they all vowed to support and comfort you long ago. So they do just that, holding you tighter and telling you how much they love you, how happy they are to have met you, how excited they are to spend life with you.

Soothed by the three people you love most, you fall into a peaceful sleep. 

The next morning you’re all greeted to the best surprise. A light coating of snow fell overnight, creating the most picturesque Christmas scene. It’s a calm morning filled with gift exchanges and a delicious brunch. Harry then leads the three of you on a walk around the neighborhood, pointing out places that are special to him. 

It’s one of the best Christmas Day’s you’ve had in years.

The next few days are peaceful, and you find yourself wanting to stay there forever, hiding in this perfect little bubble.

But you’re also excited to go spend time with Sarah’s family. You haven’t spent much time with them before, having only seen them briefly on two different occasions. And while you’re nervous about making a good impression, from what you know of them, they’re very laid back and nonjudgmental. 

It’s a tearful goodbye as you leave Cheshire. Never one to hide his emotions, Harry does nothing to stop the tears that slide down his cheeks as he leaves his mum’s house. The sadness is short-lived though, and by the time you get to Sarah’s an hour later, everyone is cheerful once again.

Sarah’s parents are unlike any parents you’ve ever met before. Which shouldn’t surprise you, knowing Sarah as well as you do. Any parents who encouraged their young child to follow their passion and become a professional drummer are probably pretty chill. 

Within the first hour you’re there Sarah’s dad says, “Heard my daughter’s been teaching you to drum.”

“She is,” you reply with a smile.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” he says, walking out of the room.

It’s clear you’re meant to follow, and you’re grateful that Sarah comes with the two of you. It’s not that you’re uncomfortable, just unsure of what is about to happen.

He leads you to the garage, where album art decorates the walls and numerous instruments are scattered throughout the space. 

“Sarah, go get those boys of yours, let’s see what you all can do together,” he says. 

While she’s gone he turns to you and says, “So, four people together. Bit unorthodox. But you all seem to make it work.”

“Yea, we’re really happy together. I can’t imagine my life without all three of them in it,” you answer. 

“Whose idea was it?”

“Uhm, well, Mitch and Sarah both approached me, so I’m not really sure.”

“Bet it was Sarah. My girl’s never been afraid to go after what she wants, even if it’s not what's ‘normal’ or ‘typical’. Now, show me what she’s taught you so far.”

It’s a bit nerve wracking to be playing for him, but from the second you pick up the sticks that fear washes away. Because he’s immediately smiling at you and nodding along. There’s a look of pride that you assume is for his daughter, that he’s impressed by her skills and her ability to share that with others.

Sarah walks back in with the boys just as you finish playing and he walks over to her. He wraps an arm around her and says, “Excellent job teaching her, my love.”

You smile and you watch the interaction and then he’s walking over to you. He places his hands on your shoulders before saying, “And you! You have real talent, and I can tell you’ve worked very hard. You should be very proud of that, I know I am.” It’s one of the best compliments you’ve received in a while, and it means so much coming from him. 

The rest of the afternoon is spent in the garage playing music before you all head to a nice restaurant for dinner. 

The next day is New Years Eve, and Sarah’s parents have a tradition of going downtown for the celebration thrown there. The few blocks in the center are roped off, and once you pay to get in you can get access to all the stores, restaurants, and bars. 

The night starts normally with a casual dinner together. And then things start to get a bit more wild. After the third different bar you lose count, but the one with the piano battle may be your favorite. 

When the clock strikes midnight the four of you all exchange kisses, for once not worried what people will think. 

An hour later the six of you are walking back home. It’s not exactly a short walk, and it is quite cold out, but in your group’s inebriated state, it seems like the best idea.

You’re hand in hand with Sarah, her father on your other side with his arm slung around your shoulders. 

“Ya know,” he starts. “I was always surprised when Sarah settled with a man. Always thought she’d at least bring home a girlfriend or two, even if she was into men as well.”

“Dad!” she exclaims through embarrassed laughter.

“No, no, don’t get me wrong. I love Mitch, you know that. Honestly you kids seem to have it figured out. The four of you are really great together, that’s easy to see. You get to have all these different dynamics, and three people to lean on when you need them. And I do love your boys, but I will say, I’m grateful you got me another daughter.” He ruffles your hair as he says that, and while you know these are drunken ramblings, you can tell he’s sincere. It makes you feel so warm inside, and you feel Sarah squeeze your hand, as she’s fully aware of how much this means to you.

The rest of your trip to England passes in a blur, and after an uneventful day of traveling back to the states, you’re glad to be home.

Sitting in bed that night you reflect on the past month and a half, how different it’s been and how happy it’s made you. 

Having Harry, Mitch, and Sarah as your partners has been an absolute blessing. But being so accepted by their families is a true gift, and you’re so grateful to have all of them in your life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Happy holidays! Thank you so much for reading!

The next extra will be spicy, potentially one of the dirtier/kinkier ones I've written sooo we'll see how that goes haha

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305

[sprunkimortality]

It's been a bit since we've heard from saves how he doing? -💛

Simon: "He's with me right now! He seems...better than earlier, at least!"

[Simon looks over to Saves, who seemed to be contently holding the glowing yellow rock which Simon had given him earlier.]

Simon: "I don't wanna ask him about his bad dream, 'cause he might remember it and get all upset again. So I'm just letting him be."

Simon: "Oh, it's called a starstone! It's named that way cause it glows like stars in the sky!"

Saves: "Oh, dear. Do you mind if I keep this?"

Simon: "I already said you're allowed to, Saves! Feel free to keep it!"

Saves: "You said so already? I must've forgotten..."

Simon: "How about you put it in your pocket so you know it's yours?"

Saves: "Hm...yes, that's an idea."

[Simon lets out a sigh as Saves pockets the starstone. He then heard a rustling noise, as if someone was walking through the grass. Saves remained oblivious to it.]

Simon: "Huh-?"

Black: "Saves!"

[Both Simon and Saves perked up as they heard the familiar voice from across Greengrove Forest. Black was approaching them, his breaths heavy as he ran towards the two.]

Saves: "Oh, Black! What's the matter?"

Black: "W-Well I heard you were upset so-"

Simon: "It's okay, Black! I cheered him up in a jiffy!"

[Black paused, his eyes turning towards Simon.]

Black: "...really?"

Simon: "Yeah! I just had to show him around the forest, you know? It's a good way to release all the stress!"

Black: "..."

[Black let out a heavy, tired sigh.]

Black: "I ran all this way...just for this."

Saves: "Oh, my dear. You look tired...come rest with us."

Black: "...you know what, yeah. I'll do that."

[Black gets in-between Saves and Simon, leaning against the tree trunk behind him. Simon lets out a little giggle, causing Black to roll his eyes.]

Simon: "Gee, you really ran a long way, Black!"

Black: "No shit."

Simon: "That's a bad word!"

Saves: "Ah, let him be, Simon. He has his ways of speaking..."

[stupendousfoxthing]

“If you're a parent of one of the members, allowing your business to become a shrine to a ship is weird and problematic. He is absolutely responsible for what gets posted on site and on official social media.”

I think you are an absolute piece of shit for leaving a comment like this about Jimin’s dad. Why do you taekookers never bother to get your facts straight? “Allowing your business to become shrine to a ship”? Do you think Jimin’s dad spends his time monitoring ships? He allows fans to send gifts and letters to his son and other BTS members not a ship shrine. There are photos and art of Jimin and other members as well as the whole BTS and but you cherry pick just to have a reason to drag him. Jimin and Jungkook are both from Busan where his his Cafe is so it makes sense that fans of Jimin and Jungkook leave gifts there.

“He is responsible for what gets posted on official social media”? What inappropriate thing did he ever post on his social media? Your breed literally misconstrued something, lied about it and went insulting him and you sit here trying to say he is responsible for what gets posted on socmed? Where was this fake activism when Taehyung reposted from an anti of Jimin? I didn’t see you coming out with pitchforks and knives calling him weird and problematic for not checking the account he was reposting from which is something artists are supposed to do. You sit here talking shit about a father supporting and celebrating his son and his friends but I haven’t seen you call out a restaurant literally selling merch of Taekook. That is not weird and problematic. You honestly think that Jimin’s dad is sitting there thinking about ships? Lol

I don’t like to go here but you are too old for shit like this. Shipping has fried your brain so much that you sit on social media arguing about non existent relationships with others like you instead of focusing on filling whatever voids you have in your real lives which causes you to latch onto nonexistent romances to feel some form of happiness or love in your life. What you need is a therapist not sitting on the internet hating on people who did nothing to you. Act your damn age.

So you think that allowing shippers to make your business a shrine to a ship (because that's what the neighbors believe maybe tell them to stop bragging about it if you think they're just setting him up) is not weird and/or problematic, and that he isn't responsible for what gets posted on site or on official (you left that part out) social media? Because I disagree with that. I think what I said is the bare minimum of common sense and I won't back down on that. Now, you're free to think I'm just a piece of shit like I'm free to think certain things are inappropriate. I don’t like to go here but you are too old for shit like this. Act your damn age.

Now that's funny given this discussion. But if I say something like this, I'm the bad guy?

The rest of your ask is just "gotcha" attempts, like you know I'm right when you're scrambling to find something equally or more problematic in your view that you can project onto me but you fail miserably.

[supercrav]

"- Mr McBuffin...

- Yes Mr Penkelnis? Have I done something bad?

- You're a new student of mine, Roidsack, but I think your past teachers haven't tried hard enough with you, knowing you would pass grades due to your astounding physical abilities. I don't think you are stupid, Roidsack McBuffin.

- You think I not stupid?!

- I don't think you are. So, if you feel like it, I would like to keep you after class, two or three times a week, for private lessons. To help you learn how to read better.

- THANK YOU teach! For FREE? This is so nice of you Mr Penkelnis! Of course I want to! You know, I spend three hours lifting weight at my gym every evening, but I'm sure I can do both.

- I thought about that, I got a copy of the school's gym keys, so we can go there for your lessons, after closing time. This way you can pump some iron while you learn. I know the school's gym is shabby, but I will buy some hardcore, heavy equipment to be added in a few days.

- You mean, there will only be the two of us, there? So, I could work out without my shirt on, without pants?

- If you want to. And also, I will use an experimental, revolutionary top secret teaching technique, but you won't be allowed to talk about it to anyone. Not even your parents. It will be our secret.

- What is it, Mr Penkelnis?

- Call me Penis, for short. It is called the TMSIA secret technique.

- TMSIA, Mr Penis? What does that mean?

- It stands for Tactile Muscular Stimulation for Intelligence Augmentation. You see, Roidsack, applying pressure on certain parts of your body can make you smarter. That should let you assimilate everything I teach you without even trying.

- Wow, that is awesome Mr P.!

- Yes, and as it works through the muscle, with muscles as big as yours, especially if they're pumped, you certainly will get a lot of intelligence while you grow your muscles bigger.

- That is wonderful, Mr Penis! I can't wait to spend hours alone with you, lifting heavy brand new equipment, while you do your secret magic with your hands on my naked muscles. I'm so happy! Thank you, thank you Mr P.! I don't know how to thank you, I will do anything you want."

[boxwinebaddie]

🎸 happy uncneen pepinursteppermint wintereve 🍬 ❤️‍🔥

❤️🤘 + ft. how i think my styles would say HYH

[jrueships]

fanling I’m ngl I thought you were like 19 and you’re here to tell me you’re doing SURGERY

fanling wishes fanling can talk more abt this, but fanling would actually get killed,,, i can tell u that my age is older than that number but not by much.. but that's a good guestimate!!!!