#s he has in this show!!!! cause their just as insane to me!!!!!

[lipglossanon]

22 December

Moaner!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pervert Leon, stalker Leon, obscene phone calls, name calling, degradation, masturbation

Black Christmas (1974) homage 💜

not proofread

You wave the cigarette smoke away from your face. Brittany giggles and blows another puff your way, sending your irritation spiking as you stand up from the sofa. 

“You’re such a child,” you sneer at her. “I hope you get cancer.”

“Hey!” She frowns at you, bubbly laughter dropping off. “What a shitty thing to say to someone.”

“But you’re not someone,” you smile sweetly. “You’re just a dumb bitch.”

Before Brittany can move from the couch, the den mother steps in with a haggard face. She’s nearing her 50’s and her days of putting up with hormonal young women are drawing to a close. 

“Now you two, be nice,” she chides, tired eyes moving between you both. “Brittany go pack. Your dad called a few minutes ago saying he’s on his way to pick you up for the airport.”

She stands from the sofa, running a hand through her box blonde hair. “Thank you, Miss Margaret. It’ll be nice to spend the holidays with family, something not all of us have.”

She grins, a nasty showing of her bleached teeth, “Have a lovely holiday, sister.”

“Hope your plane explodes on take off,” you shoot back, listening as Miss Margaret sighs in defeat—both of you watching Brittany disappear around the corner. 

“I wish you girls wouldn’t fight like that. It’s so unbecoming,” she pats her pockets, pulling out a peppermint candy, wrapper crinkling when she opens it.

“Well, if she wouldn’t have screwed me over with that Professor, then I wouldn’t have any issues with her.”

Patting your arm, the den mother makes her way back out of the room. “I know, dear. But thankfully, you’ll have a break from her over the holidays.”

Standing next to the tree in the empty living room, you pinch the bridge of your nose, willing yourself not to get a headache. The shrill ring of the landline cuts into your thoughts like a dull knife. Blowing out a breath, you walk into the foyer and pick up the corded receiver. 

“Hello, Alpha Beta Theta house.”

Loud breathing comes over the line, like they’ve just finished running a marathon. 

“Hello?”

A shuddering groan fills your ear along with a wet squelching noise, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

“Is—is anyone there?” You clear your throat. 

“Unh, unh,” a masculine voice finally makes a more pronounced noise. “Mmm.”

“You know prank calls can get you in a lot of trouble,” you twist the cord in your fingers, nerves beginning to get the best of you.

A raspy laugh before he speaks. “Bet you have a tight piggy cunt. Little miss uptight bitch.”

Fear and anger burn hot in your chest. “Did Brittany put you up to this? Well, fuck her and fuck you too, you fucking loser.”

You slam the phone down onto the cradle. Clenching your fists at your sides, you want to scream. You want to kick and slap and hit and gouge and—

The shrill ring of the phone has you baring your teeth at it like a feral dog. Snatching it up on the second trill, you bring the receiver up to your face.

“Alpha Beta Theta.”

The words are pulled from your mouth like rotten teeth. 

“Don’t hang up on me again, you cunting whore.” The man hisses at you. “I’ll rape all of your holes and then make more to stuff my cock into.”

Sweat beads on the back of your neck along with your palms and under your armpits. 

“W-who are you?”

He laughs again. “No one. Now stay on the line.”

The wet sound from earlier picks up, only this time it’s louder. He grunts and you suddenly realize what he’s doing. 

Schlick, schlick, schlick. 

It’s insane and disgusting—

and yet—

You clench your thighs, clit achy while you listen to this pervert jerk off. He curses under his breath and it makes your nipples stiffen. Gripping the phone in your hand so tightly the plastic creaks, you breathe in shakily. He must hear it cause his noises pick up speed, the wet slide of what has to be his fist around his cock grows louder still. 

“Wanna stick my face in your fat piggy cunt, lick those pretty piggy lips and suck on your juicy piggy clit.”

Instead of disgust, arousal pools hot and heavy in your core, panties sticking to your wet pussy. He groans brokenly, words bitten off as you listen to him cum on the other side of the call. Your hand begins to cramp from the grip you have on the receiver, making you swap over to the other ear.

Breathing heavily for a few moments, he sighs out a hum. 

“Merry Christmas, cunt.”

Those are his last words as the dial tone blares to life. You sit the phone down and shakily walk back into the living room. Pussy empty and aching, you sink down on the couch cushions. 

“Who was that, dearie?” 

Miss Margaret stands on the other side of the room in the doorway leading to the kitchen. 

“Uh, no one,” you repeat the pervert's answer. “Just a wrong number.” 

“Oh, okay.”

She heads back into the kitchen, leaving you alone with your messy thighs and turbulent thoughts.

[kaitcake1289]

Was it raining that night? // 1, 2

[silusvesuius]

nelvas Problematiq*eyes roll back into my skull* *falls flat on my face with cardboard cutout physics* ((7 hours later)) *wakes up in barren wasteland* I know everything now.

[smile-files]

i continue to find ii3 baffling. why did they make it (this isn't to hate on the season, i'm genuinely curious)

[affableramen]

no nut november day 1. how to make them come for the really horny darlings who read my smol insignificant blog :)

crack, smut, established relationships mature themes, minors dni

Wriothesley:

he loves when you choke him really well. he goes crazy once your hands start squeezing his neck

grabbing or scratching his butt. Wriothesley loves when you touch his rounded ass, and if you do he will definitely lose it

Tartaglia:

when you moan loudly, tartaglia loses his mind. he loves when you vocalise your sensations and satisfaction

praising him. tartaglia is not very experienced in bed activities, so he’d be really grateful if you kept praising him while having sex cause it makes him feel encouraged to proceed.

Neuvillette:

being on your knees for him (he does not expect that from anyone because he is such a humble individual, and it turns him on almost instantly)

when you take charge and offer him to have sex by your initiative. do not get me wrong, neuvillette is anything but submissive man, however even he gets tired of being constantly the controlling one. he wants you to be bold and shameless too

Pantalone:

when you play with, pull or grip his hair, it makes pantalone go insane. he is very sensitive to your touch in general, and he especially loves it when you try to tease him by playing with his wavy locks. he will be turned on immensely

when you touch his nipples (his erogenous zone. rub them nice and well, he will cum hard, mumbling “have mercy on me” to you)

Ayato:

dirty talking to him (praising his cock mostly) he loves his sex a bit dirty and overstimulating

when you slightly dominate him. this man is fed and sick of people constantly servicing him and seeing his s/o showing responsibility and taking a bold action like riding him will make him nut wildly

Capitano:

squeezing him inside. his manhood is thick, and the tip is fat enough to make him feel things when you suddenly tense up. capitano will give in to his passion, you will hear loud impatient grunting escaping his mouth that you never knew you needed

when you call him by his real name. in most circumstances capitano hates it when someone mentions his true old name, but when you do it during intimate moments he simply goes nuts for you. the way his name falls from your lips when he thrusts into you fast and hard enough just gets him going

Alhaitham:

he adores when you scratch his back. you always fear hurting him, but alhaitham wears your marks proudly and insists on you to not hold your passion in. he needs more of those blooming red marks of lust on his body

when you assist his thrusts by forcing your hips closer to him. he enjoys when you participate in love making equally to him, and will definitely cum unexpectedly generously if you continue

Dottore:

when you play by his rules. dottore is a very old and assertive man who’s used to things happen his way. at first he will kindly ask you to follow his lead but later on he will be incredibly blunt and dominant with you

when you use his vibrator on himself. not to mention him liking impressing you with new toys, when you grab one and press it against his skin, he will squirt his release earlier and thicker than expected

Dainsleif:

when you moan or whisper sweet nothings into his ear. this makes him particularly horny, especially given how much your voice turns him on in a private setting

when you try to unnoticeably run your hands over his hips. there is something about your claws grazing over his strong legs that makes him go completely frenzied for you

Baizhu:

when you bite his ears and neck. baizhu has those very sensitive and he will come almost instantly if you tease the delicious earlobes and neck of his.

when you wear sexy outfits. he likes to take you when you’re wearing those naughty, revealing but incredibly gorgeous outfits. he practically loses control of his arousal and can come even prematurely simply because he is staring at your beautiful body

[sungstars]

what sex is like with them. . . ft. shotaro, anton, & sungchan of riize

content warning: nsfw(18+) minors dni, afab!reader, explicit sex, spit, face slapping, fingering, oral, mentions of d/s dynamics, etc.

authors note: this was fun to write, i dedicate this to my very best friends who love shosho & sungchan <3. i hope you all enjoy, and requests are open 🩵

.☘︎ ݁˖ SHOTARO

depending on the day. . . it’ll either be very insane sex or very gentle. shotaro is more often than not whiny, begging you to touch him or for him to touch you. however, sometimes, shotaro will take over and put your head through WALLS. starting off gentle, kissing you softly and hand rubbing your hip. then, a switch would flip and next thing you know he has you on all fours, one hand pulling your hair and the other pushing your back into a deeper arch. you would be so overwhelmed with pleasure that you reach back and attempt to push him away. that would make him go feral, pushing your hand away before flipping you over and slapping you across the face

“running from this dick baby?” he’d coo as he tenderly rubbed your cheek, but his dark eyes reading something completely different.

you weren’t even able to answer once he released your face, legs shaking in pleasure as you felt your release getting closer and closer.

your peak was just about to take over, broken moans and a weak “taro” escaping your lips, but your orgasm never came.

tears welled up in your eyes as you opened them, looking at shotaro who was smirking down at you.

“you don’t think you’ll get to cum after running from me like that, did you baby?” he whispered, kissing the tears that streamed down your face, “let’s try this again?”

.☘︎ ݁˖ SUNGCHAN

fucking sungchan was like an out of world experience every single time. he would push you to your limits that you didn’t even know existed, but also left you feeling more than satisfied.

he was so mean, and loved to make you cry. teasing you until you full on sobbed, begging for his dick.

“aw, look at the crybaby,” he would mock pout, grabbing your face between his fingers, letting them slightly dig into your cheeks, “crying cause she wants some dick?”

more tears would fall from your eyes, nodding so hard that it would actually hurt a little, “please sungchan, i’ve been so good.”

he’d tilt his head to the side, laughing at you before taking his hand and pushing your bottom lip down, “if you’re so good, you’ll let me fuck your pretty mouth and then maybe, just maybe, i can consider fucking you till you’re crying— oh, you already are.”

eager to please, you would get on your knees and pull at his joggers, eager to please him, but he’d stop you, “mm, open for me baby.”

you were confused, but opened your mouth anyway, moaning when you felt his spit hit your tongue.

“you’re so nasty,” he would tug at your hair, bringing your face closer to his clothed dick that was very clearly showing through his grey pants, “taking just about anything i would give you.”

.☘︎ ݁˖ ANTON

THE BIGGEST BOTTOM FEEDER. anton is so pathetic when it comes to sex, he would do just about anything you wanted him to do.

he loves going down on you , feeling you tug at his hair and his nose bump into your clit as he eats you like a starved man. you taste so good to him, so he could honestly eat you out for hours if you’d let him.

but you’re too good to him, telling him how to do it, when to add a finger and when to speed up. anton loves when you talk to him, it makes him feel ecstatic knowing that you let him make you fall apart.

when it comes down to actual fucking, oh he’s done for. the way you wrap around his dick would have him over the edge if you didn’t help build his stamina. every time he fucked you, he felt like a virgin all over again.

your cunt just took him so well, and the sound of you moaning his name drove him crazy. he loves when your acrylic nails dig into his forearms, telling him how good he’s fucking you.

you never told him, but when his chain hits you on the nose when he’s on top, it makes you cum faster than ever.

anton is so attentive to you, making sure you feel amazing before he even considers how he is doing.

“am i doing okay for you?” he would whisper as he fucked into you slowly.

[paegei]

BEACH DATE

pairing - joshua x fem!reader

summary - a supposedly cute beach date takes a heated turn because your boyfriend is insufferably attractive.

a/n - when joshua posted these... i cried. i creamed. missed my bf so much guys （＞人＜；）these pics destroyed me

NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !

SMUT warnings under the cut !

SMUT WARNINGS: public sex (obv), marking, breast play, fingering, praise, pet names (baby, sweetheart, love), no penetrative sex. they’re on the sand okay but let’s just pretend it didn’t get everywhere .ᐟ.ᐟ

the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and joshua was driving you insane. AGAIN.

what was supposed to be nothing but a cute beach date, an excuse to get outside the house, was slowly becoming not so innocent for you.

joshua had been learning to surf recently, and wanted to show off what he’s learned. you, being the great girlfriend that you are, agreed to sit back, relax, and shamelessly gawk at your boyfriend under the guise of “criticism”.

as expected, joshua, straddling a board, wet hair and all, caused some heat to pool further south. it’s not your fault okay ? his thighs are on display. the thighs you have claimed as your seat multiple times. the thighs that you were in between just 3 hours ago.

you were trying your hardest not to jump his bones every time he turns back to check if you’re watching. but the small smile he sends you does nothing for the ache in core.

“babe !” his shout of glee interrupts the dirty thoughts clouding your mind, and you watch as he jogs up to you. “c’mon babe, swim with me !”

he ignores your small murmurs of "no i'm okay, baby". he grabs your hand and attempts to drag you towards the sea. seeing his grin up close, the way the sun was shining on his face, the thoughts from earlier left your mind, your love for the man in front taking over. suddenly, swimming didn't seem all that bad.

the two of you giddily walk hand in hand towards the water, joshua humming a little tune. suddenly, he turns to you, grabs your waist, and flings you over his shoulder. despite your pleas of “put me down !”, “let me go !” as well as various giggles, the way he manhandled you was all you could think about. god when did he get so buff and strong and handsome and -

he does a quick spin with you on his shoulder, before he slowly put you down, his arms still wrapped around you. he leans forward for what he expects to be a small smooch, but you place your hands on the back of his neck, and pull him closer, prolonging the kiss. your tongue slips passed his lips, granted access due to the gasp he let out. he has a little moment of hesitation, before he begins pulling you impossibly closer to him.

the kiss was hot. tongues and teeth clashing, sounds of lips smacking seemingly overpowering the harsh waves crashing onto the shore. listen, as confused as joshua was, he was not going to pass up the opportunity for a hot makeout sess with the love of his life, okay ?

the two of you stand there, middle of a desolate beach, tongues tied together. joshua begins to trail his hand lower and lower, stopping when his fingers graze between your thighs.

“sweetheart…” he mummers into your mouth, seemingly unable to detach himself from you for even a second. “s’ wet for me.”

his fingers begin to slowly ease back and forth across your bikini bottoms, as you begin to whimper lowly into his mouth. as the two of you continue, you guide each other to lay down, joshua hovering over you.

his previously light touches turned harsher, more desperate, and his kisses soon turning to nips peppered across your neck. the sharp pain of his teeth had you letting out whimpers with each bite.

even though this had been all your idea, you started to remember ( very slowly with how little your brain was working ) where the two of you were laying. resting your hands in his hair and tugging, attempting to signal for him to stop, you began looking around. the tugging on his hair did not stop him however. in fact the result it had was for him to let out a guttural groan before sinking his teeth into your neck much harsher.

after checking your surroundings thoroughly, and coming to the conclusion that the two of you were alone, or at least, have some time alone, you shoved him off you, before straddling him yourself.

your lips immediately connected again, joshua now moving his hands to move underneath your bikini, now beginning to roll your nipples between his fingers. you had taken on the task of beginning to grind your hips down to meet his, the feeling euphoric. the two of you moaned into each others lips. the kiss was no more as it had delved into nothing but heavy breathing into each others open mouths.

joshua left one of his hands on your tits, as the other roamed your body. rubbing your back, grabbing your hair, pulling your hips down to meet his rougher. the feeling of his hands on yours, his lips on yours, his erection rubbing against you, on top of the public setting, made your pussy throb.

his hands left a trail of fire. you felt hyperaware of the marks of his fingers. the fire slowly, once again, returning to down south. this time, however, he did not let your panties stop him, slipping his fingers passed to finally make contact with your soaking body.

no words had been exchanged up to this point. nothing but grunts and moans as the two of you lost yourself in each others bodies in the wide open space. joshua couldn’t handle not telling you how good you were for him, so he broke the silence.

“god.. just like that love- fuck- keep grinding f’me”. despite his need for speaking, he did not move his lips from their new home in the crook of your neck.

not one to disobey your lover, you continued the pace of your hips, albeit a bit harsher, as you now began to grind down on his fingers. his other hand began to hastily shove your bikini upwards, desperate to see your breasts.

after he was done with the task, you all but yanked him down to your chest, hoping he’d get a move on. he seemingly absentmindedly began to lick and suck at your nipples, as if it was second nature to him ( it really was at this point).

his fingers left your slit and travelled, finally beginning to play with your clit. the gasp you let out was sharp, sudden, and your body lurched forward from the pleasure. joshua left your chest as his hand returned to your back to support you, his mouth going to kiss your check.

“s’ok love i got you” he murmured into your ear, as your whimpers and reactions got more intense. he knew your body, and he knew you were almost there.

knowing what you needed, his fingers slipped inside, reaching to massage that certain spot, as he continued nipping and sucking at your neck. the hand on your back began to move up and down, in a comforting manner. a total whiplash to how the hand below your belt was abusing that spongy spot inside.

“let go baby, c’mon cum for me sweetheart”

your sounds grew in volume, indicating your high, before, like the waves right next to you, it crashed down hard. you hips lost control, mindlessly humping his hand, while your arms wrapped around his body, tightly wrapping your whole body around him.

“there we go love. there we go. so good for me. fuck- i’ve got you”

his words were muted at first, nothing besides the sound of the beach making its way into your ears. your body was shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. you could faintly feel his hand slip out of you, and the other still rubbing soft circles on your back.

pulling back, josh smiled up at you. you hadn’t seen his face much during that whole act. you kinda missed it. you leaned forward to place a kiss on his lips before muttering a quiet thank you to him.

“it’s okay love. bit intense ?”

you nodded your head, words feeling like too much at the moment. joshua slowly began moving you off of him, before attempting to get himself up.

waking up from your trance, you quickly tug him down. he lets out a small shriek before plopping down. his gaze towards you is quizzical, and also slightly pouty.

“babe ?”

you respond to his question by placing your hand upon his shorts, right where the tent is visible. a hiss slips out of his mouth as his hand reaches for yours. his fingers interlock with yours as he tugs both your hands away from his crotch.

“wanna finish this in the car ?” he smirks, bringing your hands up to lay a kiss on the back of yours.

he barely has time to see your excited nod as you all but rush to your feet, dragging him behind with you.

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[suzukiblu]

Day eleven of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Uh–is it?” he asks, not really sure what else to say. Or more like, not really sure what else to say that would not sound both desperately, desperately horny and desperately, desperately weird. 

“I dunno,” Kon replies, giving him a quick, sheepish little smile. “Just makes me feel good, that you think I’m worth, like–taking out and showing off, or whatever. Like–without the S-shield on, even.” 

“The S-shield would definitely make date night a lot harder to enjoy, yeah,” Tim says, torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to dissolve the entire entertainment industry and all of Kon’s previous romantic interests in acid from the ground up. Slowly. Kon blushes again, his smile widening. 

“And, uh–and that,” he says, glancing sidelong. “And that you wanna hang out with me without anybody interruptin’.” 

I want to hang out with you until I overthrow Gotham AND Metropolis and then I want to install a zeta between them and the biggest beachfront property you’ll let me buy for you and any little Kon 2.0’s you let me make you, Tim’s most insane self thinks and his slightly more rational current self does not say, because he has at least some small and tiny and miniscule scraps of self-control. 

Like, barely, and only lasting until the fifteen-year sidekick-to-supervillain plan goes off, but still. 

“I definitely don’t want anyone interrupting, no,” he agrees instead, and Kon beams at him again and then ducks in and kisses him again–just a quick little peck, but definitely still a kiss. Tim, belatedly, realizes that Kon might actually be getting more up in his space than he was before the whole . . . script issue happened. Just–standing closer, and leaning in a little more often, and things like that. Not in a demanding way or anything; just like he wants to be there a little more often. 

Like maybe he’s a little more comfortable being there, now. Or like maybe he thinks he can do it without anything being–expected from it, maybe. 

Tim doesn’t even know if Kon’s doing it on purpose or not, but he’s definitely noticing a difference either way. Just–there is very much a difference there to be noticed. 

He is definitely, definitely not going to be able to find out who any of Kon’s exes are before he goes supervillain. That’s just not going to work out for his timeline at all. 

Also Bruce would absolutely get upset if he found out about whatever he ended up doing about it, and he’s an emotional support sidekick, not, like, an intern or whatever. He is not here to cause problems, he is here to facilitate Bruce’s mental health, help him manage his paranoia, and minimize the amount of overkill beatings of petty thugs and small-time criminals. 

Admittedly Bruce managing his paranoia is not going great, but it’s a process, alright? He’s doing his best here. 

“So like, if we do go shopping again, wanna pick something out for me to wear for you next time?” Kon asks, still beaming at him. Tim’s brain attempts to reboot a couple dozen times before he manages to remember how to string a coherent sentence together. 

“Yes,” he says in an almost normal-person voice. Maybe. Theoretically. He . . . hopes, anyway. “Uh–yeah. That sounds, uh–like something I would like to do.” 

It’s a little harder to focus on the supervillain thoughts with Kon both wearing that expression and actually asking him to buy him something–especially specifically something he wants to wear for him–so that’s helpful for keeping to his timeline. But also, uh–embarrassing, kind of, because usually Tim is better at thinking than he currently is being. Like, his normal thought processes are a lot more involved than Kon’s so hot and Kon’s so CUTE and hurr durr pretty boy. 

He definitely still wants to ruin some people’s lives, but first he wants to get Kon dinner and dessert and buy out a boutique or four for him, and just like, a small suburb. Or town. City. Tri-state area. 

And also to pick out something for him to wear “next time”, since apparently Kon still wants there to be a next time that he sees Tim Drake and also just like . . . just the whole thing with the picking out something for him to wear thing, because Tim only has so much self-control, alright? He is doing his best here, but he’s only an emotional support sidekick, alright, he’s not made of stone. 

Seriously, Kon asked him to dress him and asked him to buy him something. Tim is not actually sure if he’s more thrilled about actually getting Kon to specifically ask him to buy something for him or frazzled over Kon offering to let him pick out something for him to wear. Just–god. Tim is just not even–Tim does not know what he’s feeling right now. Just–whatever it is, he is feeling it. 

He wonders if it would be, like, a little too pathetic of him to maybe get Kon another crop top. Or, uh, a little too thirsty of him. 

. . . probably, yeah. Probably definitely, in fact. 

. . . . . . but like, if Kon sees one he likes, it's not like Tim's gonna say no or–

Anyway. 

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chaebol!jungkook (4) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist closed.

note: have safe sex & don’t be like these two <3

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @kekerrreke @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

monday

jungkook comes home around lunch time. no words can describe how happy he is to see you half asleep on his couch with bam curled up with you. it's weird. his heart has never matched the pace of his dick before.

he wakes you up by joining you. as he lays his body on top of yours, you wrap your arms around him. he snuggles in closer, leaving kisses on your neck. "what'd you tell your husband?" he murmurs. you sigh as you play with his hair. "told him i went to visit my cousin, jiun."

he nods along, "that makes sense. didn't she just give birth like three months ago? three months is a good time to visit a new born." you're shocked by his memory. "how'd you remember—"

jungkook laughs hearty as he sits up and pulls you with him. "you wouldn't let me cum in you for like two weeks then. got all paranoid about having my baby or some shit."

you shrug. "having your baby wouldn't be so bad."

jungkook's eyes dim. "if you didn't have a husband, right?"

tiptoeing, you plant a kiss on his lips. "aren't you my husband?"

that night, jungkook fucks you like you're the only thing that matters to him. he missed you so much that he had no time to buy condoms. his heart goes on overdrive when you tell him it's okay. you say, "you can fuck me raw. i wanna know how you feel... give this to me, okay? give me all of you."

so he does. in so many ways, he gives you himself.

tuesday

the morning starts off with sex.

the coffee you brewed for the two of you goes cold as it sits on the nightstand, untouched. tangled in his bedsheets, you can't help but giggle at every gentle touch he places on you. it's different. sex with him has never felt like this before. it feels like lightning.

jungkook shoves his cock inside you for the nth time, causing you to squeal. as he towers over you, you moan at the sight of his chain dangling. you feel every inch of his cock pump inside of you, each stroke hitting your g-spot. it's so insane. like, you've never liked sex so much before this. before him.

in the back of your mind, you wonder if you can ever let this go. could you ever forget about this? how tuesday morning sex feels like with the man that you're practically forbidden to be with?

it doesn't matter.

right now, it's him. he's the only thing you see and feel... and he feels like a dream.

as the day goes on, jungkook does a lot of sweet things you never expected him to do. he helped dress you. he started you a bath. he made you lunch. he asked you a lot of questions about your family, ultimately trying to get to know you more. at one point, he looks at you a little too fondly.

"what's with the look?" you ask, hiding your face with your hands.

jungkook moves them, bringing them to his lips. kissing your hands, he looks at you with the sweetest eyes. "you're... evergreen. you know that? you blow my mind. that's all."

you cover up the fact that your heart melted by smirking and taking his hands back. "yeah, yeah... you know what else i can blow?"

wednesday

jungkook can't say he hates this.

you tied him up and spent the past hour edging the shit out of him. between you two, your sweat and pre-cum could fill buckets. he loves the way you're out of breath. he loves the way you're gliding your pussy against his dick, struggling not to cum.

"j-just put it in, wifey." you feel shivers go down your back as he calls you that. "fuck me like you love me."

you freeze.

"like i what?"

jungkook hisses. "s-shut up."

you shake your head. "no. say it again."

jungkook struggles with the rope. "untie me."

"no. say what you said again."

"why don't i show you instead?"

that's all it takes. you untie him and he fucks you like he loves you. as you cum and feel him throbbing inside of you, you want to say it. you want to make a confession. instead, you mumble his name in between kisses and hope he simply knows.

thursday

jungkook spends most of his day at work. he textes you a million times, acting all clingy. you text him back with the same energy and enjoy your day with bam. you clean his penthouse a little and start on dinner.

you make his favourite.

when he comes home, his fatigue posture goes away the instant you greet him at the door. "jungkook?" you peer out of the corner, bam following you.

"hey," he smiles, collapsing into your embrace. "d-did you cook? it smells like—"

"yeah," you flush. "i did. i also made seaweed soup."

"it's not my birthday," he laughs, taking his shoes off. he holds you by the waist, guiding you to the kitchen. over the stove, he watches as you lift the lids off the dishes.

"i saw your calendar when i was tidying your study. your birthday was a few months ago but the date was empty? you didn't celebrate with anyone, did you?"

jungkook blinks at you.

"so i made you seaweed soup. at the very least, we can celebrate together. i hope that's okay—"

jungkook kisses you.

then, he fucks you against the kitchen counter. against his kitchen island, he has you bending over. at one point, you jump on him, legs wrapped around like it belongs there. he brings you to his couch, and lifts your legs. jungkook eats you out for a good hour. he plays with your pussy, switching from fucking you to fingering you until your squirt. when you do, you stain the cashmere throw blankets he has on his couch. it's okay. he'd display them if he could.

jungkook has your legs in the air for so long, they hurt so bad. to soothe them, he runs you both a bath. sitting in his bathtub together, you two giggle uncontrollably over the bubbles and bath salts. you two are so close. so intimate.

he kisses your shoulders. he kisses behind your ear. he kisses every part of you that he can.

by the time you two clean up, the meal you prepared is cold. as you put on your pjs, jungkook reheats the food. you join him by wrapping your arms around him, hugging his back. his heart is filled with so much love as you two sit down and eat together. you feed him a few bites of the soup, sing him happy birthday, and cuddle him to sleep.

that night, he hates your fiancé the most.

friday

jungkook invites his friends over.

at first, you're nervous. completely confused why he would do such a thing, but when you meet them.. you get it. they're all so funny and sweet. it confuses you how jungkook has such a douchey personality when he has such amazing friends.

"i've never seen him like this," his friend jimin comments. "he explained the whole thing to us... and obviously, we've been begging him for months to give up and stop bothering you... but after meeting you; i get it. if i were him, i'd hate your husband too."

you don't know what to feel. a part of you is upset that jungkook would talk about your life with others but another part of you can't help but feel flattered.

when his friends leave, you pick a fight.

jungkook doesn't yell. he apologizes instantly and tells you that he would kill his friends if they ever outted you. you take his word for it, but still hate the feeling.

"make up sex?" he suggests.

you roll your eyes and shove his chest. "get over yourself, you big mouth, ignorant chaebol kid—"

jungkook grabs a hold of your wrists and pulls you close. he throws you over his shoulders and takes you to the bedroom where he shows you just how sorry he is.

you accept his apologies 5 orgasms later.

saturday

jungkook makes an effort to make sure you aren't seen exiting his penthouse. he hires security and makes sure your husband isn't around. for the first time ever, jungkook takes you on a date.

he brings you to an outdoor movie. it's set up on this little hill that overlooks a field of flowers. he tells you that it's his grandmother's field. that he grew up running through them with his brother and one time, he got stung by a bee. he refused to come back ever since.

"why are we here then?" you ask, feeling a little bad at the memory he has.

"they're pretty," he answers simply. "you're pretty. it made sense."

you smile at him. tilting your head, you kiss him. he chases your lips when you pull away. moving closer to him, you lean against him. he holds you as close as he can, watching the sunset and wondering if this is how it will feel like forever.

if every flower field and every sunset from here on out will remind him of you.

sunday

he was dreading for this day to come.

he hoped the world ended by now... because it will. the moment you walk out his door tonight, it will.

jungkook is an angel the entire day. you two wake up slow as the sun shines through his curtains. you two have a quickie in bed. you make brunch together. lazily cuddle on the couch and watch each other's favourite movies.

just like that; it's over.

he looks for every excuse in his head. he wonders if he should just print the divorce papers for you already—but that didn't make any sense. you weren't even married to him yet.

he still had a chance.

jungkook thinks fast. he wonders if he should do it. if he should take his grandmother's ring out from his nightstand and offer it to you. he should, shouldn't he?

then, just as he's about to excuse himself to get the ring—your fiancé calls. you pick up after the second ring.

"hey, love..." you say gently, offering jungkook a smile and excusing yourself to his study.

he curls his fists and wonders just how selfish he could be. he concludes that it doesn't matter. if he could have you—he'd give everything else up. he'd do it. he really would.

but when you come back, your warm eyes break his heart.

"what'd he say?" jungkook asks, breaking the silence.

"he asked how my trip was going. he asked when i'd be coming home... and if we could move the wedding up."

jungkook's heart breaks.

"up by how much?"

you gulp. "next month."

he has no words. all he does is nod and back away. you move forward, wrapping yourself around him.

"we have a few more hours left," you comfort him. "let's be together for a little longer.. okay?"

he looks at you, utterly conflicted.

then, you kiss him and his mind clears.

you'd win.

no matter what he says or does, you'd win. you'd win him, you'd win your fiancé. but fuck that because it doesn't matter who you choose. you'd always have jungkook.

he kisses you until you're out of breath. he fucks you in such a fulfilling way, you swear you see stars. it's so different from the other times. it's loving. it's wishful. every handful of your breast he squeezes, every lick of your pussy, and every thrust he shoves his cum in deeper inside of you—it's mesmerizing. it's unforgettable. it's everything you've ever wanted and ever thought to want.

jungkook gives you everything. every plea you whimper, every kiss, and every touch in between you two—he tries his best to remember.

jungkook fucks you like there's no tomorrow.

because there isn't one.

this was the end.

[loaksbitch]

ok this is based on request, but imagine jake sully fucking you with pure hated cause your existence alone fucking irritates him yet he can’t keep his hand off of you yes? HECK YES

warning(s) – enemies with benefits, angry sex, mean jake, clit stimulation, overstimulation, cervix fucking, dumbfication, owning kink (if that’s a thing), cussing, orgasm denial, choking, slight hair pulling, cum stuffing, reader is a bratty minx too.

jake was sat across the hut, reshaping his arrow tip to hunt for later and very much annoyed on how youre in front of him, chewing on your thumbnail so fucking loud, on eywa you’re was so bitchy.

for the past half hours he was trying so hard to block out the chewing sound yet nothing helped, especially with your very aware self doing that purposely.

“can you stop doing that?” jake huffs, doing his best to control his growing anger and hatred.

“what?” you say with an attitude, a brow arched and giving him a stare.

you and you’re fucking attitude. jake licks his lips, tongue poking through his cheek. “that, stop chewing loud you’re distracting me.” he says, pointing to where his reshaped arrows are.

you click your tongue, nodding your head to the door. “if you’re disturbed, the door is that way.” your words are pushing him on edge, wanting to rip you and do things, you on other hand was also feeling the same and you want him away from your sight.

“this place is not yours.” he spat, tone showing a tint of anger. you’re hitting jackpot. “and it’s not yours.” you bite back.

a deep growl leaves his chest, jake frowning as he starts to speed his knife against the wooden arrow. he decides to ignore you, thinking it’s the best to steam down his anger, fuck he really hates you it’s making his cock twitch.

you’re not done with him, especially after yesterday night when he literally scared the cute na’vi male who was talking to you away. this bitch deserves to go crazy with your existence.

“slow down.” you say, voice high and pushing him to the edge. “i swear to God, y/n if you don’t shut the fu—“ you dare to cut him off, you fucking cut him off and his nostrils flared.

“you might not want to cut those fingers, do you?” you tease, empathizing with the fact he has five fingers and is different from the na’vi’s.

he blinks, eyes twitching and triggered before he snaps his head to yours.

“i’m sick of your bitchy self today.” he tries to humble you but you find ways to slap his face with your fiery mouth. “and i'm sick of your bitchy self every day.” you say and jake loudly hissed, amber eyes strictly glaring at you.

“fuck you.” he grumbles

“fuck you.” you hiss back.

done with his shit, you decide to leave and get on your feet. he smirks, lips opening to get on your nerves. “leaving already?” you don’t reply, only one plan in your mind. you’re gonna destroy this man.

intentionally, you walk over to where reshaped and non shaped separated arrows are and nudge your leg to them. you feel them tumble, falling and mixing together. “oops.” you giggle,

jakes’ smirk drops, fading so quickly, this was the last string of patience he had. he lets a terrific chuckle out and your body shivers, maybe you’ve taken it too far.

“you little bitch.” he was now on his feet, walking to you and grabbing you by your hair. you two always ended up in a fight, him not caring if you're a female or you not caring if he was male. you just go for it, punching him when he dared to touch your hair.

“the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you turn to him, face red with anger as well. you’ve always hated when someone had you by your hair. you poke on his chest, pushing him while you knew this drives him insane with maddens cause he hates getting pushed too.

“don’t. push. me.”

both of your eyes were on fire and burning holes to each other’s skull. you swallow nervously yet hold your ground and not let him see how he was intimidating you.

“don’t be an asshat and you won’t be pushed.” you said quietly.

“fuck you.” he says, voice to deep.

“fuck you.” you’re on your tiptoes now, chin raised high to show you’re not scared or bottoming out.

without any warnings his lips were on yours, hot and wet as he takes your lips and devour you. anger was still in him but the lust is winning. both of you are fighting until he was biting on your lips and making you involuntarily moan.

it was his chance, tongue being shoved inside your mouth and being tied. he moans to the kiss. jake suddenly pulls you closer and you whine, hands skimming to his chest and push him away.

he licks his lips, eyes lingering on your lips before lifting to see your eyes. you wipe your lips with your arm, spitting on the floor with disgust. oh trust me, you were so fucking turned on but had to pretend.

“don’t wipe my kiss off your lips.” he demands and you scoff, wiping more and watch his eyes squint, a chuckle leaving him.

“fine then, i’ll mark you all over your body and see if you can wipe it.” he spits and you’re being scooped to his shoulder.

you don’t fight cause you know you want this, but at the same time you’re nervous.

before you know it, you’re being thrown to the hammock, jake crawling on top of you and you almost moan at the sight. “what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not letting him have a chance to know you’re wanting him right now.

“i think your sexy ass knows exactly what i’m doing.” your inside twists, pussy pulsing at his words. he doesn’t miss how your legs close themselves and he nods, smirking. “that turns you, doesn't it?” you look away when he holds onto your knees and forces them open.

“fuck you.” you say again and this time jake grins. “please do.” he begs this time.

he was between your legs, your loincloth getting ripped away and him untying his gently. he’s so passive aggressive. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re screaming my name only.” he leans to nudge on your cheek with his nose.

“fuck off, i’m not doing–“ jake was again kissing you, rough and angry that almost breaks your skin. your legs are roughly pushed wider. “i fucking hate you.” he reminds you and anger bubbles in you, “i fucking hate you too–hngh..!” you struggle to answer when pleasure strikes you as jake cups your heat.

“you’re so fucking wet.” your eyes almost roll up to your head, his husky voice being too much. jake was admiring the way he bruised your blue skin when he was marking your neck.

jake trails hot wet kisses down your cleavage and to your breast. you drew a deep breath between your teeth when he took your nipple. jake locked his eyes with yours when he tugged on your nipple, letting it roll between his teeth. the sharpness of his teeth scraping on your nipple and making you shudder.

he leaned back, getting on his knees and glaring at you as he told you how he is proud with the effect he had on you with his eyes. your temper was flaring.

you pull your legs to your chest and try to close them but jake was fast. “uh-uh.” he grips onto your ankle and yanks your legs back open. you grit your teeth, fighting him and his masculine ass to get off of you.

“baby.” he sternly calls and you freeze, “the fuck did you just call me?” you slap his hand away from you when he tries to reach and brush your messy hair from your forehead. “i ain’t your baby.” you growl.

“fine, you want it the hard way?” he spits. “i’ll fuck you then.”

you’re getting pushed back and pinned to the hammock. “fucking stay like that or else…” he threats and you scoff. “no, you don’t tell me what to you, i’m not yours to obey around.”

“you’re not mine?” he arched his brow and you're silent, looking away and staring at the roof until hands are firm, grip on your jaw turns you and makes you meet his gaze. “you’re not mine?” of course at the end of the day you’re his.

“yes, you don’t own me.” every time his nostrils flared, you were very happy because he was getting upset. “we will see about that.” and then he was leaning down to capture your other breast that didn’t get attention.

you were fast to throw your head back, moaning when you felt him lightly bite on your bud and make you squirm under him. you didn’t realize you were pushing his head away from your chest until jake was grabbing your wrist and throwing it away.

right then you arch your back for him to suck on your nipple more he stops and you whine. “you’re not mine huh? you sure you don’t want to take that back?” you huff, eyes telling him you’re not changing your mind.

“yeah,” you spit, watching him grin, “is that so?” he says.

“yes, because you’re— argh!” you groan when his other hand roughly parts your fold and sinks in until his knuckle is a barrier. jake was so rough when he fingers you, your cunt squeezing him deliciously.

your eyes widen when you catch his cock jump and point straight to the roof, precum leaking from the angry tip of his dick. he can imagine how warm and tight you are.

“relax.” he curls his finger inside you, thumb flicking your clit. “relax for me.” he hates you yet look at him going all ‘relax for me’ on you.

“you’re so pathetic, so fucking dumb on my fingers.” he pulls his two fingers out before shoving them in you.

“who am i?” he asks and your answer causes him to curl his fingers inside you. “you’re an asshole!” you mweled. “asshole? i’m an asshole?” jake pinches on your thigh when you try to close them on his hand.

“c’mon pretty, i know you’re better than that. who am i?”

you’re silent, only soft breath leaving you. jake can feel how you pulse on his fingers, telling him you’re about to come. “what the–“ your eyes shoot open when you feel jake pull his hands away from you.

“open your legs wider, be fast.” for once you do as you’re told and jake hums, pleased.

“you’re not gonna get that far until you say you’re mine.” he was very serious and you gulped. you’re spread open and jake closes his eyes when the scent of your leaking slick hits his nose.

you smell so tempting and delicious.

your gaze follows him when he settles between your legs. “gonna fuck some sense into you now.” you throbbed when you said that, feeling your wetness leaking out of you fast and clenching on nothing but air.

jake held both of your legs, pushing them up to your chest and folding you half. it was his turn to squat, watching your exposed and pink folds shining as his angry tip circles on the slit.

“please,” you catch yourself slipping, pride somehow demolished. jake was surprised, “what? can’t hear you.” he gives you an attitude.

you don’t fight back, just wanting to be filled with his dick. “please i need you inside me.” he wasn’t up for teasing now. he needed you as much as you needed him. “fuuuck.” he moans, watching your face attentively when your jaw hungs open.

pain and pleasure hit you, he was not giving you any time to get accustomed to his length. jake thrusts into you, angry and rough.

“you’re mine?” he asks, taking advantage of your hazy mind but you’re no near to being hazy. “fuck off.” you hiss when he pushes your leg to your chest more, almost blocking your lungs from your stretching.

“hm, i’m asking you in a minute and i’ll need you to get it right yeah?” you only moan. jake pressed his body to your folded leg, grabbing your hips and titling your pelvis. you scream when he hits the right spot.

hands sought to his broad shoulders and pushed him when he ruined your tight cunt, it was painful when he started to slip in more. jake can’t help but get shocked when he fucks you open. his cock was literally in your cervix.

“it hurts.” you whine but jake only shushes you. hands wiping on the tears that appear on your eyes. “shh, you’re okay. i’m just so deep, f-fuck don’t do that.” he grips on your hips when you tighten on him. your warm breath hits his lips on how close he is and pressing himself on you.

hands that were wiping your tears slides to hold onto your wrists that keep pushing him away and moving them away from him. “who am i, baby?” you’re now completely gone, his dick controlling your brain and body, even your breath when he ruts to you.

tears are leaking from your eyes as he keeps thrusting into you, abusing your walls and bruising them. you moan and cry louder, nothing making sense with the pleasure and pain you’re feeling.

your breath shortens when jake wraps his large hand on your throat, oh mother eyw—

“who am i?” his tone changes on the last word and you scream? giving in easily. “jake! jake sully!” you cry out, orgasm bubbling in you, you want it out of you, the growing pressure. you want jake to rip it out of you.

“okay, that’s it.” he pats your temple, “ seems like ’m knocking some sense in you.”

“now,” he kisses your forehead, hate still bubbling in him. “you’re mine, yeah?” you wanted to shake your head. wanted to punch him. wanted to…

“c’mon, say it and i’ll give you what you need.”

“i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours.” the moment you said it, jake felt something in him burn with ego. you’re his, you gave yourself to him. no going back now.

“good fucking girl.” he huffs, pulling out of you and causing you to cry, like seriously cry loud and he spreads your leg apart, hands wrapping on your waist before he helps you get on him.

your ass sets against his strong thighs and you moan when he easily slipped inside you.

“JAKE!” you yell when he pushes you down, bottoming out before grazing on your earlobe. “you’re mine, you get it? a part of you is mine and i own you.” you hate how his words made your insides clench.

tears are shed, heart in pain with no reason. “i hate you.” you tell him and he smiles, pulling you close to him and hugging you as he fucks himself in you. “i hate you too.” jake chuckles when you hide yourself on his chest.

“i’m gonna cum…” you whine, feeling the man holding you close. “i got you, i’m here.” at this point the hate is confusing because jake doesn’t know what he is feeling any more.

you let go, trusting the man you hate the most and coming. he was soon taking your step, manly whining and hiding himself to the crook of your neck. “shit.” he moans, loading himself in you.

he suddenly feels you pushing him away and hips buckling causing him to slip out of you. he was about to ask what was wrong until glaring at him with pure rage.

“this never happened.” you bark and watch him confused and try to understand. “what?” he innocently asks and you point at him then, down to his semi-hard cock. “this, me and you. we never did it.”

right then it hits him, jake gets that you don’t want this to get out of you two, it was like a dirty secret and jake felt annoyed. “you don’t want no one to know?” you’re quick to nod. “yes.” as much as he wants to show you off.

if you want this then he got you, he was gonna bite his tongue and sit back and you watch him hesitate before nodding.

“good.” you state and move from him to fetch on your loincloth. he only stares at you, the tension you both had a while ago long gone and his amber eyes following you as the mean man he was before disappeared. you don’t even spare him a look as you dress and leave the hut.

too confused and trying to process what just happened.

like + reblog is very appreciated but not pressured! i love each and everyone of you sm!

[celestie0]

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

[antsday]

under your thumb

[part two of this. inspired by @habken 's incredible scammers to lovers au. hope you enjoy!]

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

“I need him dead,” Izuku says, pacing intently. His bright red shoes squeak with every step he takes, and his eyes are wide with mania. “I genuinely need him dead.”

La Brava takes a long slurp of her soda fountain abomination - two pumps of every flavor of every soda, in one supersize cup - and gives him a knowing, pitying look. “Dynamight causing trouble again?”

He buries his face into his hands and makes a noise like a wounded animal. 

“Did he finally explode his laptop beyond repair or something?” La Brava asks. “Talk to me.”

“He asked me out on a date,” Izuku grits out, and La Brava’s eyes go wide. “A date. Lunch at a crepe shop? There’s no other way to take that.”

It wasn’t ever supposed to go this far. At first, loading Pro Hero Dynamight’s laptop with viruses was just a way to get back at him for being an asshole. But then he just- kept clicking them. And then he kept coming by, and revealing that he wasn’t so bad to talk to and then-

Izuku’s been played like a damn fiddle. All this time, he thought he was the one pulling the strings- only for Dynamight to sweep the rug out from under him in the most sudden possible way.

“Huh,” she says.  “Huh.”

And then, after a long pause:

“...Well. IT guys are in really high demand nowadays,” she says, stirring her drink with her straw. “With the economy, and all.” 

“This can’t happen. He’s a Pro-Hero,” Izuku stresses, grinding his teeth to stubs. “A Pro Hero who can’t go a week without getting scammed, but a Pro Hero nonetheless. This can’t happen. It can’t.”

“He’s a public servant, Deku, not a nun.” 

Izuku points at her. “Exactly! He’s a public servant. He has a duty to the people first and foremost, and I can’t get in the way of that.” Izuku says, placing a hand on his chest with feeling. A beat passes, and then, “Also, he is so fucking weird.” 

“And there it is.”

“Who gets scammed that much? It just makes no logical sense. You’d think after clicking an obvious pop-up the first time and getting your whole laptop overrun with malware you’d just- stop doing it at some point! But no! It’s like he’s a- a little kid with a big red button in front of him. He’s ridiculous. And-and an asshole, too!”

La Brava sighs, setting down her comically large drink. “Okay, Deku-kun-”

“Yeah! He’s a huge jerk. He’s mean to everyone and he acts like- like he’s doing me a favor by making me fix his laptop all the time! You know what, he deserves all that malware, especially if he’s so obsessed with clicking pop-ups!”

“Deku-kun.”

“He’s insane. A total freak show!”

“Deku-kun.”

“A-A self-absorbed, arrogant-”

“So you don’t want to go on a date with him?” La Brava interrupts, cutting him off. 

Izuku pauses, ceasing his pacing. 

He thinks about Dynamight’s evil looking smiles and fiery red eyes and sharp features; his insane stances and posture and the way his voice sounds like gravel; the way he’s always yelling and acting like a stereotypical macho-man Pro in his office, and yet whenever he steps into Izuku’s he’s always looking away and speaking quieter and holding out his virus-infected laptop like it’s the bento lunch Kiyoko-chan (from the new slice-of-life romance anime Izuku’s been binge-watching recently) made for her love interest in last week���s episode. That one time Izuku had said he was thirsty in Dynamight’s presence and found a water bottle on his desk the next day (and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that-). It's the way that no matter what happens- whether it’s a villain attack or a patrol or rescuing a kitten from a tree, Dynamite comes out on top. 

(Quite literally, in the case of the kitten. The fire department had to come down to Tatooin Station and rescue Pro-Hero Dynamight and a three-pound kitten from a 40-foot tall oak.)

God, there’s so much wrong with him, Izuku thinks. I need to hold his hand or I’ll die.

Izuku’s cheeks heat up and he scratches the back of his neck, very pointedly not looking at La Brava. “...Well. I never said that.”

“Oh my God,” La Brava says. “Oh my God.” 

“Sue me, okay!” Izuku throws up his hands. “Apparently I like deranged goblin men who are a little pathetic and rough around the edges and incapable of not getting scammed! Is that so wrong!”

La Brava stares. And stares. And then she sighs. 

“It- You know what, this is above my paygrade,” she says, taking another long, obnoxious sip of her drink. “I’m not here to critique your frankly abysmal taste in men. So you do want to go on this date?”

He thinks about it more, and starts getting light-headed at the thought of- of Dynamight, buying him a crepe. Sharing a crepe with him. At the crepe shop. Tomorrow, when they’re both free. Maybe they’d even- hold hands, and- ride the ferris wheel in the amusement park across the street- together-

“Hnnnrrrgh,” says Izuku. 

“Well, good luck,” says La Brava, tossing her empty cup. It soars through the air in a perfect arch and lands into the trash with little fanfare. She pumps her fists, and Izuku absentmindedly claps a little. 

 It’s pretty simple removing the malware- he was the one who put it there, after all. Soon enough, Dynamight’s laptop is good as new. And then, after another couple of moments of hesitation, he sneaks in another pop-up. A poor recolor of Naruto, this time, in suggestive kitsune-themed lingerie. 

“You’re literally going on a date with him,” La Brava says, suddenly popping up behind him. ‘You don’t have to keep doing this.”

“Consider it, uh,” Izuku racks his brain, “leverage! Yeah. If he’s. If he’s an asshole.”

She throws her hands up in exasperation and turns back to setting up a pastel pink Project Sekai theme for Phantom Thief's computer (upon his request). 

He’s not being weird, Izuku reassures himself. He’s not. Dynamight doesn’t have to click the pop-up. He’s not, like, obligated, or anything. But if he does, like he has been doing, well. That’s one way to secure a second date. 

Well. Not that he’s hoping for a second date with Dynamight, or anything. He’s not anxiously counting down the seconds or whatever. That’d be insane. Right? Right. Totally insane. And Izuku is not insane, so therefore he is not incredibly and unhealthily invested in this-

“Stop muttering about this or I swear to God-”

-

So now he’s here. Standing in front of the crepe shop in his nicest clothes (a white ‘Dress Shirt’ shirt, a half-buttoned striped orange button up, and brown corduroy pants with a black belt), blasting music to distract himself from the fact that he may have been stood up. 

Okay, fine, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. He probably hasn’t been stood up. Sure, it’s been three minutes and fifty four seconds since their agreed upon time, and there’s still no sign of Dynamight anywhere, but that probably doesn’t mean anything. He’s probably just running late. 

He has to be running late. What is he going to do if he actually is being stood up right now? 

Kill him? 

Kill Pro Hero Dynamight?

No, Izuku realizes, deflating a little. No, he’d never be able to go through with it. Maybe more malware? Maybe every piece of malware at once?

For once, the Go Get Your Man, Kiyoko-chan! theme song isn’t taking his mind off things- a clear sign of his deteriorating mental state. There’s a part right before the final chorus in which they let a cat just meow into the mic for a solid thirty seconds and it always reminds Izuku that good exists in the world- except for today, apparently. 

After a few moments of hesitation, he goes to his messages. They have each other’s numbers, strictly for business, but occasionally Dynamight will text him hey in the middle of the night and then take three hours to respond to Izuku. 

Where are you?, he types up. But before he can press send, his phone beeps.

Izuku frowns.

“A villain attack nearby?” His hair blows slightly in a sudden breeze. “Huh. I hope it’s not too close.”

He has about two seconds of peace between uttering this final, ironic sentence, and then turning his head-

-because one minute he’s pausing the theme song on his phone, and the next he’s face to face with a giant, menacing pincer that's seconds away from peeling off his entire face.

His life really is just one prolonged punchline, huh.

So there he stands, tears in his eyes, fear in his heart, and the thirty second meowing solo ringing in his ears; dressed his nicest 'Dress Shirt' shirt, holding an expensive laptop that he can never again infect with malware because he’s been stood up and he’s going to die. Brava was right, Izuku thinks belatedly. Maybe I should re-evaluate my taste in men.

And then everything explodes.

part one/part two

[neowinestainedress]

‘CAUSE IT’S YOU | L.DH

TITLE: ‘cause it’s you PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader GENRE: hits different bonus, slice of life, fluff, smut, established relationship, relationship development, christmas, meeting the parents SUMMARY:  it’s been 3 years since you met, two since you started dating, but haechan still hits different. or; you and haechan spend your first real christmas together WARNINGS: smut, unprotected s*x (mc is on the pill), vibrat*r, getting caught, exhibitionism, edging, f!nger!ng, overstimulation, squ!rt!ng, dirty talk, praises, female joi, masturbati*n (f&m), voyeurism, n!pple play, the usual switchy dynamics, cheesy-romantic-love making, lots of kisses, l-bombs, aftercare, mentions of minor character death (before i get called a dumb bitch in the asks for not putting this), dealing with a loss and trauma, bi!haechanxbi!reader WC: 22.563k A/N: our favorite emotional support boyfriend is back! This was supposed to be a gift for the 4k followers this summer, but I didn’t finish writing it and I decided to give you tooth-rotting Christmas fluff and smut instead of another summer (on the coaAaAast). I’m excited and scared for this because when I was writing HD I wanted to show more after they got together (but it was too long), and then the story was such a hit (and felt complete anyway) that I wasn’t sure I wanted to write another part (or it was needed). I’m happy I didn’t finish it this summer because when I sat down for that, I feared I was right; it felt plotless, and I felt I was adding nothing to the story. Until I thought of this. I’m proud of how this came out because I feel this still has a valid plot and showcases the changes in their dynamics well. But since this is not supposed to top the original (it can’t) and I see it more as a bonus that’s optional to read, please take this as my 5k followers and Christmas gift for you! If you hated the mc in HD, this one is for you! I hope you can enjoy this, please let me know with reblogs (they help reach more people), comments and asks what you think about it! happy holidays ♡

“Where the hell are my panties?” You mutter under your breath as you look through the messy blankets with no success. 

“Babe, please,” Haechan mumbles, trying to push the sheets on his body and don’t freeze with each one of your tugs. 

“You know, you’re the reason I can never find my clothes, but you still never help me,” you groan, stopping to stare at him with your arms crossed. 

He raises a brow, and then his usual smirk curls his lips. “Three years and I still fuck you that good, you should be grateful.” 

You groan loudly before grabbing your pillow and hitting his face, eliciting a loud grunt. “You’re so annoying!” 

“Damn, laugh a bit,” he jokes, wrapping his hands around your body and pulling you flat on top of him. You’re face to face, his sleepy golden-brown eyes staring into yours and his lips pouting to leave wet kisses on your face. 

“Hyuck,” you complain, trying to pull away, but he flips you over, trapping you against the mattress, and going on with his sweet torture. 

“What? You’re not in a rush anymore,” he whispers as his kisses get less messy and move down on your body. “Can’t be lazy with me some more?” He lifts his hand up and you see he’s holding your panties. 

You gasp offended and he bursts out laughing. “You traitor! I went insane for five minutes trying to look for them!” 

“It’s funny seeing you do that every time.” 

You pout. “I hate you.” 

But Haechan smiles and leans in to leave a peck on your lips. “I love you, too.” 

“Give me them!” You scream, grabbing his hand and stealing your panties. “I wanted to make you breakfast, but no, you had to waste my time.” You push him off of you, and he just rolls to the side without complaining, still smiling as he follows you with his gaze. “Now you’ll have to wait.” 

He chuckles, moving to get comfy in the warmth of the bed. “Fine by me, I’ll wait.” 

You can’t hide the smile on your face, but you try to don’t show it by looking down, letting your hair cover your face, and pretending to be busy with your clothes. 

Haechan gets you now. He knows why you were always in a rush and that you don’t need to be anymore. He knows that now, behind your rush, there’s not the need to be as far away from him as possible but to prepare your favorite breakfast and slump in bed together to eat it. It’s just a habit you two picked. He learned you need habits; small things that keep you grounded, small moments you can always count on, and he doesn’t mind it. Actually, he likes it too, you are the calmness he needs in his rough sea. 

“Want me to help?” He asks once you’re done, ready to go in the kitchen. 

“No, I want to surprise you today. Stay here, I’ll be back soon,” you reply, smiling and sending him a kiss that he grabs swiftly before bringing it to his lips, making you chuckle. 

I’ll be back soon. 

It sounds wild in his ears if he thinks that just two years ago, every time you walked out of that door, he feared you weren’t going to come back. It’s even more insane when he stops and thinks you two are making it work. Looking back at your failed relationships, it’s safe to say that you both don’t strike as types to make a story last. 

Yet, here you are. On the bed, eating breakfast while you discuss your plans for the day. And then you’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth side by side, playfully fighting to have access first in front of the small sink, and then you’re in the shower, no funny business, just a quick wash before going out. Lastly, in your bedroom, you’re getting dressed to go out, picking each other’s fits, and finishing the last touches. 

Everything in your house. The one you two now share. 

Moving in felt like a sudden move, and when the moment came, Haechan had been the one who tried to stick to his old habits, too afraid that such a big change was going to scare you away. But Mark and Minjeong got more serious, and Haechan was always at your place anyway (to avoid suffocating so Mark wouldn’t hear every time you fucked). Also, as much as you loved the company of the couple, you two needed time alone, so he moved in five months ago. 

But all his worries got flushed away pretty soon. You needed stability and your habits, the small things that made you feel grounded. And since you had come to terms with his feelings for him, moving in only solidified your relationship because you could have all that. There was nothing left of the insecurity of your friends with benefits phase, there was something that was planting its roots to grow strong.  

Your place is still a temporary solution before looking for something nicer (not bigger, for now, the only family expansion plans are plants, a cat, and a dog). 

But it’s yours. The same house you built so hard, the one you kept secret like an oath, the one he couldn’t even step foot inside, is now his too. There’s his guitar in a corner of the living room, his computer next to yours, and the game console under the TV. His clothes beside yours in the closet, his shoes in the hall right next to yours, and his jacket at the entrance. The lamps you bought together, the plants you picked together, and even a big photo of you two framed above the television; Johnny took it without you noticing, and it quickly became your favorite, so it’s there, to let everyone know who lives there. 

And most importantly, there’s Haechan. There’s his laugh, filling your nights and days that used to be empty. There are his failed attempts at cooking. The books he tries to read every night, with no success, while you read yours. Just for him to end up with his head on your lap as your fingers run through his hair and you read yours out loud. There’s him hyping you up as you run on your treadmill, dancing and singing around you because that’s training too. Finally, there’s a beating heart to listen to as you fall asleep between two arms that hold you. 

“I can’t believe you don’t have Christmas decorations.” This is the tenth time Haechan makes that comment as you walk around the store with the cart almost full of Christmas stuff, and you can only roll your eyes at it. “I’m sorry, babe, but… why?” 

“I had nothing to celebrate,” you reply, stopping to look at the garlands, inspecting which one is better. 

“Not even last year?” 

“We were at your place, and usually Johnny drags me with his family, he knows I will fall into a vertigo of depression if I’m not distracted during this time,” you reply. It’s not painful to talk about it, but Haechan can hear the subtle shift in your voice and the way your eyes avoid his. He learned how to study your smallest reaction, it was the only way he could get deep into you, even after you started being serious, it wasn’t so easy for you to open up. 

“If you don’t want to, we can don’t celebrate,” he says, trying to meet your eyes, and when he does, they’re wide open. 

“Why? I’ve got you now,” you say, lifting in front of his face the two garlands you picked, putting the right one in the cart once he points at it. “Fuck my family, I’m not alone anymore. And I don’t want to be sad, I want to celebrate, and make my little traditions, have our Christmas.” 

A small chuckle leaves his lips at your words, but then he gets serious again. “Are you sure? I always fear you push your limits for me, and I don’t want you to break —�� 

You stop him with a wave of hand. “Hyuck,” you say, smiling at him. “I’m fine. I’m better than I’ve ever been. I want this to be special. I’m not making your family come over to an empty house for the holidays.” 

His eyes widen. “Wait, you’re sure about that too? My mom tends to get carried away and she just —” 

“Oh, oh, Lee Donghyuck, are you perhaps the scared one?” You ask with a teasing smirk on your face and burst into a laugh when he blushes and turns his head low. “Oh my God, you are scared of this. You’re shitting yourself, just like when I proposed to move in with me.” You nudge him, but he slaps your arm away playfully, and then you start walking again. “Confess, you liked me better when I was the one that ran away.” 

“God no, any version of you, but never the one that slips from my fingers with no warning. It was traumatic,” he confesses, there’s a smile on his face, but in his eyes, you see that thinking about it still hurts him a bit, and you’re so deeply sorry. 

“Promise, never again,” you say, kissing his cheek. “So, tell me, what’s so scary about your family?” 

He sighs, rubbing his temples before you both look on the shelves to pick the decorations to put on the garlands. “They’re loud and loud… and loud.” 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I like that. What do they do? Talk a lot? Sing a lot?” 

“Sing a lot? You don’t want to know what we used to do. One year my sister even had a wardrobe of costumes to perform in front of us, I feared Mariah Carey was going to lose her yearly check.” 

You laugh at the image. And then caress his face. “Me, my brother, and Johnny used to do that too. Not with the costumes, I confess we weren’t at those levels, but nobody, I swear nobody, not even the pissy neighbor, could take away our performance. It was unfair because they would always make me play the elf, I was too short between those two giants,” you scoff, rolling your eyes before your laugh gets loud again when you remember something. “One year my brother almost got grounded because he had painted my face green using our mom’s make-up, it was so funny. She was so mad, but he couldn’t stop laughing because of me and Johnny.” 

Haechan laughs too, looking at you with softness in his eyes. You’re happy. You’re talking about your brother with a smile on your face, there’s no sign of a small twitch of your lips or the nervous playing with your fingers, just a genuine smile on your face. And you talk about him a lot, all the stupid things you used to do together, all the times he had your back, or when a song, movie, or book reminds you of him. A few months ago, you even showed him a photo book you kept stored under your bed and you talked for hours, some tears fell on your cheeks, but they were different from all the ones before. And Haechan is so happy to see you like this, to feel like your brother is still here with you, now that you don’t act like his death never happened, or his entire existence never happened. 

“The three of you were a menace. How did your families survive?” 

“I don’t know,” you giggle, looking at him, and smiling fondly. “I mean, without us, their lives would’ve been so boring. We always put a smile on their faces,” you say, and then sadness flashes in your eyes for a bit, but you wipe it away quickly. “You know, I wish that didn’t break my family apart. I wish my parents would’ve, I’m not saying I wanted them to fear losing me too, but at least cared about me more. Put the pride aside and welcome me back in, instead of pushing out their only child. I wish I could have them with me, laughing about the past… I mean, it’s not easy, and you know that I wasn’t like this until a year ago, but… don’t they feel like they’re grieving me too? I think I could still make them smile, I have so many stories about my brother that I haven’t told them yet. He could still live through us.” 

“I think they need more time,” Haechan says, reaching your hand that’s standing on the bar of the cart, rubbing your palm with his thumb like he always does when you need support. “But they will search for you again, more than the five texts you share in a year.” 

When he tells you that, you’re reminded of something you forgot to tell him a few days ago. “My mom sent me a recipe the other day, I thought she wanted to send it to one of her friends, but she wanted to send it to me.” 

“See? It’s a step forward unless she was foreshadowing that she’s going to kill you and cook you in the oven,” he jokes, making you laugh as you playfully push him away. 

“You’re always so stupid. Help me pick the last things, come on,” you say, changing the subject.

Yes, you can talk about this more freely, but you still need to chew on it, taking small bites, or else you’ll choke. 

You walk out of the kitchen with two hot mugs in your hands, just to find Haechan blankly staring at all the boxes on the floor with a confused expression, and you roll your eyes. “What now?” 

He lifts his head, walking toward you to grab his mug and leave a peck on your lips as a ‘thank you’ before he replies. “Don’t you think we went just a bit overboard? It’s too much.” 

“It’s not. And look, the tree is already up because you’re the best man ever and you were so quick at putting it together,” you say, batting your lashes, making him glare at you. “What? Can’t even praise you right, now?” 

“If you want my soul, I’m sad to inform you, you already have it,” Haechan says, pulling you in a hug before he kisses you again, this time it’s longer and more passionate. You chuckle when you pull away. 

“It looks like it’s a lot, but it’s not,” you try to reason. “Most of these are decorations that we need to put on the tree or on the garlands that you proposed we would make, together, as a lovely, madly in love couple.” 

“It wasn’t that cheesy when I proposed it,” he replies, grunting and scratching the back of his head.  

“Come on, I made you hot chocolate, and the biscuits are getting ready in the oven, we’ll put on some music, and we’ll have some fun,” you say, placing the cup on the coffee table to turn on the TV. “Are you sure you’re not having double thoughts about us?” You ask, stopping midway and looking as his eyes widen. 

“What? Why?” His voice comes out as a high-pitched squeal as he feels panic run through his body. 

“I don’t know, I thought Christmas was your favorite holiday and I wanted it to be special. But I feel like you’re not as excited as you are for other things and maybe you feel like we’re running or something…” you sigh. “Are you afraid I will disappoint your family? Maybe I’m not enough — I…”

“No, God, no,” he replies, shaking his head. “It’s just a lot, and I was wondering if we could get it all done this weekend, but it has nothing to do with us,” he says, walking to you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Hey, I love you, and I love this. Every little thing we’ve built and we’re building together. I admit I’m afraid for my family. Not a single ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend of mine ever met my parents so, yeah, this is a pretty big and scary step, but it’s with you. And truth be told, I’m not afraid because I don’t think this is serious, or because I think they won’t like you, confession time, my mom loves you already,” he says with a smile on his face. “I’m more scared you won’t like them, and well, that they will scare you away. I know you made some big steps forward, but… you still have your fears, and we both know sometimes they take over and sometimes you fall back into old habits. And it’s fine with me, I know how to deal with them and take care of you, but in this case, it’s not in my power, I can’t control them, and what if they say something wrong? What if they ask the wrong questions? I —”

You shut him with a kiss, pulling him close by the long hair covering his neck. “You sound just like me,” you joke, pulling away. “I know you don’t have control over them, I don’t need you to have it. I hope they can become my family too, and I’m ready to let them in, step by step. I’m so happy you worry so much about me, but I have it under control,” you laugh lightheartedly. “I don’t snap anymore when my brother is brought up, I don’t lie anymore, and I don’t run away. You taught me to always face my fears, right? And that’s what I’m doing. Maybe not all at once. Surely, I will need you to back me up at some point of the night, but I’ve got it, and I’ve got you, and… I’m ready.” 

The look in his eyes feels like home and so does the warm smile on his face. “I love you so much. I’m so proud of you, I can’t even explain it in words,” he says, kissing you again. 

“I know you are,” you reply, caressing his face. “I mean, the fact you’ve been keeping up with me for three years says it all.” 

“Two,” he replies. 

“Nah–ah, you’ve been keeping up with my mood swings and fucked up coping mechanisms since you fucked me in your car, or maybe even since we talked that night. I mean, that was my first lie to you, so…” 

He chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Mhh, maybe I should take you out tonight and make a stop there, our parking spot. Wouldn’t it be romantic?” 

“Mhh, yes, and then we can even smoke weed,” you add, laughing with him. “But I doubt we’ll be free from the Christmas tasks, so maybe next time?” 

“Yes, Miss. If my agenda is not booked, I’ll find a spot to slip you in,” he jokes before leaving a peck on your forehead and stepping back, going back to the boxes on the floor. 

You can’t control the smile on your face as you stare at him. This is your first holiday together and even if it has been a hell of a month for you in these past few years, you feel your heart explode with happiness right now. After everything he has done for you, you feel like you can finally pay him back, and do something that makes him happy. Haechan always told you how much he loves Christmas. Since he was a child, he felt that, after a year of sacrifices, his family could be together with fewer worries. It didn’t matter if there weren’t many gifts under the tree or no gifts at all, he was happy because his parents didn’t have to work, and they could pretend life wasn’t so hard for at least a few days. He also told you he loved how the cities would light up, and everything seemed better. 

“Will you help with the lights, or do I have to do it by myself?” 

You shake your head out of your thoughts and look up at him, shrugging. “No intention of doing so.” 

“Oh, come on, I will end up tangled in this mess,” he whines, pouting and looking at you with those big eyes you can’t resist. 

“Fine, but just because I really like you,” you say, walking to him, grabbing the other end of the lights. 

“Only like me?” He pouts as you both start walking around the tree, parting the branches to fit the lights in between them. 

“Mhh, sometimes I feel like I can barely stand you, so yeah, maybe liking you is too much, sorry about that,” you joke, making him scoff. 

Setting up the place with decorations was the plan, but with Haechan you learned nothing goes as planned. You’ve gotten used to it, it doesn’t trigger you anymore, not that much, especially when you find yourself in this situation. Laying on the floor with him on top of you, kissing along your jaw as his hand creeps under your sweatpants to reach your panties. That’s another thing you’ve gotten used to, the way, after years, you two still can’t keep your hands off each other. It’s surely different from what it was before, there’s no more fear, anger, and destructive passion when you two have sex, but the chemistry is still the same, just healthier. 

“Hyuck,” you moan when his finger teases your clit and slit, forcing your head to roll back on the cold hard ground. You could’ve easily moved this to the couch, but it was just easier to be there where you two ended up, the red decorations resting to the side, waiting to be finished. In your defence, you are almost halfway done; the tree is almost done, the small Santa clauses, reindeer, and trees are placed here and there on the shelves, and the strings of lights are running from corner to corner of the living room. 

“You’re so wet,” Haechan teases, trails of wet kisses painting your face before reaching your pouting lips, “I wonder why,” he jokes, his typical smirk sitting on his face as he looks at your face. 

Another thing you learned by dating Haechan, is that you will never get bored. He’s always thinking about something, coming up with ideas, planning things. He’s not much different from you after all, he simply doesn’t look over a plan more than twice (sometimes he doesn’t even get to the second time). This time it’s not any different. He was looking at you like a puppy that can’t wait to bite a bone, jumping on his seat on the floor as you two decorated with Christmas music filling the background. You know his eyes; when he looks at you without saying a word and just waits for you to catch up as if you can read his mind. You don’t get why he does it since he’s so impatient and surely not shy, but he finds it entertaining for some reason and you play along. 

“What?” You had asked, struggling to hide the amused grin on your face when his lips curved in a smile. 

“Want to try something new?” 

Those five words, followed by a bet to see how long you would last with a small bullet vibrator inside of you before begging for him to give you more, are the reason you’re so wet. You thought it would be funny and he would go gentle on you, but you were so wrong. And it took you less than fifteen minutes to beg for him to make it stop. 

“Don’t be so mad, I’m giving you what you want,” he pouts, kissing your puckered lips over and over. 

“You’re not. You’re teasing, like always,” you groan. 

“Am I?” he grins, pushing your hair back as he stares into your deadly glare. “Fine,” he groans, rolling his eyes back before bringing them back to you. “What do you want?” 

Another loud grunt slips past your lips, but you quickly force words to come out. “Your fingers, please,” the last word is filled with sarcasm, and he gives you a stern glare at which you only shrug. 

“You’re such a brat,” Haechan mocks, quickly flicking his fingers on your clit, watching with amusement as your eyes roll back and your teeth trap your lips to stop the loud moan to come out. “Is this enough?” 

“No,” you whine. “Take the toy out and fuck me,” you order, but you only get a mocking laugh in reply. 

“So bossy today. I let you decide so much already, I think you can leave this to me, uhm,” he teases as his fingers keep moving on your clit without giving you more. 

You sigh defeated and relax, your shoulders drop back as you decide to just enjoy the sensation of his stimulation, the filling of the toy, and the light vibrations. 

Just as he’s about to give you what you’ve been asking for, the loud sound of the doorbell stops you two in your tracks.

“Did you order something?” Haechan asks, hand still buried in your pants but still. 

You shake your head, shrugging, thinking it’s nothing and ready to beg him to keep going, but the bell rings again and you huff loudly. 

“The neighbor?” Haechan tries to guess again.

“She’s out, she told me a few days ago, it can’t — oh, goddamn,” you huff when it rings again. 

But your doubts are soon answered when the front door swings open and your heart jumps in your throat. 

“Is it possible that you two never hear the bell ring?” 

“Johnny!” You scream, pushing Haechan’s hand away and him off your body roughly, trying to fix yourself the best you can and get on your feet. 

“Oh, sorry,” your best friend looks at your dishevelled look with a grin on his face. “Interrupted something?” 

You groan and simply throw a pillow at him in response, but it does him no harm as he quickly catches it even if he only has one hand free. 

“No, we were decorating.” Haechan tries to save the situation, but you know it’s useless as you roll your head back and sigh again. Johnny’s not dumb, unfortunately.  

“Oh, is it a new slang? I didn’t know we call it like that nowadays, interesting,” he teases, walking toward the couch. “I always learn new things from you two.” He kisses your forehead, and you don’t even push him away, but rub your eyes when he passes over you to greet your boyfriend. 

“You can’t just burst in with no warning,” you sigh, turning around, watching as he studies the mess in the living room as if it’s his place. 

“I rang three times, not my fault your boyfie didn’t think of pulling his hand out of your pants,” he shrugs before lifting his head and smiling at you. 

“I’ll change the code, I swear,” you threaten, rubbing your temples. 

“And I will still know it in case of an emergency. Just because you got yourself the love of your life it doesn’t mean you downgrade me, hey!” 

Another loud annoyed sound comes out of your mouth, and you swiftly catch Haechan going red in the face after Johnny’s words, but you shake it off. “You wait for us to answer.” 

“You could’ve said ‘I’m coming’ or ‘wait a second’, you know? That’s what normal people do,” he reminds you, placing the bags he’s carrying on the floor to take off his coat, and placing it on the couch. 

“She swears it’s people that want to sell you something, so she looks out of the peephole and then pretends she’s not home,” Haechan explains. 

“Bullshits, she wanted to leave her best friend to freeze to death in the corridor,” he dramatizes, lifting a hand on his forehead and faking passing out on the couch. 

“You’re so dramatic,” you groan. “What do you even want?” 

“It’s been two weeks since we’ve seen each other, and this is how you greet me?” He gasps offended. 

“Don’t laugh,” you say to Haechan, who immediately stops laughing and apologizes with a shrug. “I’m sorry. How can we help, my dearest friend?” 

“Fake,” Johnny gags. “But I brought you two something,” he says, patting the space on the couch for you to sit and then lifting two bags. 

“Christmas is two weeks away,” you say. You already have your gifts, of course you do, but you still need to wrap them up like you want to. So, you hope these are not your presents because you wouldn’t be ready to give him yours. 

“I know, it’s not a Christmas gift, it’s just a gift.” 

Haechan raises a brow. “For us?” 

“Yes,” he replies. “The first one is from my mom, it’s a cake.” 

“You should’ve said that right away,” you say, grabbing the box from his hands. “It’s so pretty, and it’s going to taste so good. Thank her!” 

“About that, you can do that if you come to my place tonight. I told her you won’t be with us this Christmas, she had a mental breakdown, so please, can you two don’t fuck tonight and come to my place?” 

“We’re not perverts, you know,” Haechan scoffs. 

“Not sure about that,” Johnny mumbles, and your boyfriend slaps his arm. “What? You two were never able to keep your hands off each other.” 

“Look at him, rewriting history. You didn’t notice we were fucking until she told you!” 

“Tell him, Hyuck,” you back him up from the kitchen where you’re placing the cake so it can be safe from the mess of the other room. 

“Fine, but I still know you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Anyway, can we focus? The sooner I’ll leave, the faster you’ll go back to what you were doing.” 

“Yeah, that’s — oh,” you stop, eyes widening when you hear the vibrations pick up again. “We’ll come.” 

“I’m sure we will,” Haechan mutters under his breath and you glare at him, silently telling him to don’t even think about it, but he only smiles smugly and shrugs. 

You clear your throat, trying to walk back to the couch as if nothing is going on, and urge Johnny to finish this soon. 

“And this is a bag full of things my mom wanted you to have,” he says, handing you the other. “I don’t think it’s necessary anymore, you two got yourself a lot of things, but yeah…” 

You grab it with shaky hands and look inside. 

“Will she cry?” Haechan asks, and at the same time, you feel the vibration stop, which makes you chuckle under your breath with your head low. It’s sweet that he thinks adding fighting an orgasm to a breakdown is not a good idea. 

Johnny thinks about it, leaning to the side to look at you, and then hums. “Probably.” 

“I’ll take a look at this after, so I can break down crying with him alone,” you say, getting up, and stretching your arms out to hug Johnny. It’s your nice way to tell him you’re grateful, but also, he needs to leave. And it would work smoothly if only Haechan didn’t have other plans. 

“We baked cookies, why don’t you stay for a while? What about a cup of coffee too?” 

You glare at Haechan again when the vibrations start high, leaving you breathless, but quickly force yourself to smile at your friend. 

“Yes, I love cookies and coffee!” Johnny cheers, wrapping an arm around Haechan as he guides him to the kitchen.

“Of course you do…” you whisper under your breath, rubbing your temples and following them in the kitchen. 

You sit on a chair, hoping to bring yourself as little attention as possible, and that if you keep your thighs pressed enough you won’t come in your pants in front of your best friend. But Haechan is not exactly helping you, shifting the speed and waves so that you can’t ever get used to the sensation. 

“The cookies are amazing,” Johnny moans after a bite and you try to give him a gentle smile. 

“Thanks,” you dare to speak out, surprising yourself when you do with no sign of desperation. 

“The place is coming together nicely, by the way,” he comments, walking to sit in front of you. 

“We didn’t put up a lot, just the smallest things on the furniture,” Haechan comments, “and the tree, but well, we didn’t put on the balls so it’s empty.” 

“Shit,” you cry out when he rises the speed, but you quickly play it cool by holding the back of your leg, “a cramp.” 

Johnny’s eyebrows are raised in suspicion, not by your poor acting, but because Haechan isn’t on his knees in front of you in two seconds to make sure you’re alright, but he shrugs it away when your boyfriend asks if you need help. 

“I’m fine,” you mutter, stretching your leg to keep playing the part and massaging the ‘sore’ muscle.  

“So, what time should we be there tonight?” Haechan asks, and you hear he’s trying hard not to laugh. 

“Seven, so my mom can annoy you with questions before dinner and then we can start and eat in peace,” Johnny says, thanking Haechan when he brings the coffee cup to the table. 

“Your mom’s nice,” Haechan says, “and she’s an amazing cook. She will cook tonight, right?” 

“Hey! I’m good too. But yes, she insisted, so the kitchen is all hers,” Johnny huffs, “even if I will hear her complain because my things are not where she would keep them.” 

You try to laugh but quickly turn it into a silent giggle when you feel you can’t hold the sounds in easily anymore. Haechan’s hand is not in the pocket of his pants, busy preparing the last two cups of coffee, but the vibrations are stuck at the highest speed, and you’re squirming on the chair, nervously twitching your legs. 

“I saw Mark and Minjeong yesterday,” Johnny changes the subject as he suddenly remembers. “We should organize something all together before the holidays. It’s been what? One month now, since we’ve all been out together?” 

“We actually hung out with them last week,” Haechan says. “They finished remaking our old place and wanted us over.” 

“Y’all are cutting me out of your lives, I don’t like this,” Johnny complains. 

You roll your eyes. “We’re not,” you spit out, as fast as you can, so no shakiness slips from your lips. And then mutter a “Thanks,” to Haechan when he hands you the cup and then sits next to you. 

“It’s just because it was my place before, they wanted me to see the changes,” Haechan explains. “But I think they’re planning something with all of us soon. They’re just… busy.” 

Johnny quirks a brow. “Busy like you two bunnies or busy, busy?” 

“Shut up!” You scream, glaring at him. But can you blame him? Right now, you two are proving his point. He just doesn’t know it. 

“I’m kidding,” Johnny says, lifting his hands in the air before grabbing another cookie. “I know they are, Minjeong just changed her job, and Mark is Mark. But we should find a free weekend or something, we could even go to my beach house for New Year’s.” 

“Yeah, why not,” you force out, one hand slipping under the table to squeeze Haechan’s thighs, telling him to lower the speed, but it’s useless, he acts as if you’re not even there. 

“Can I change roommate this time? This one right here is a bit too clingy,” Haechan jokes, pointing at you with his head, making Johnny laugh. 

You force out a small laugh, rubbing your sweaty palm against your neck to fill your silence with something. 

“Man, I really need to find somebody,” Johnny sighs heavily, letting his head fall against the table theatrically. “You sweet couples make me feel so lonely.” 

“Weren’t you going out with,” you stop, pretending to think of her name but, in reality, you’re trying to collect yourself and don’t focus on the pulsing of your pussy. “Hana?” 

Johnny lifts his head and pouts. “We fucked.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it’s great, don’t get me wrong. But I’m too old for that, I want to settle down.” His hand points at your living room. “That shit out there? The cheesy lovemaking while setting up the place for Christmas? The way y’all live together? I can’t believe your cold-ass heart got it before me. I was Mr. Romantic, and look at me.” 

You chuckle tenderly, caressing his hand, trying not to make it shake. “And… will it just be sex?” 

“It’s not even exclusive. But it doesn’t matter ‘cause I broke it off,” he pouts. 

“You’ll find someone,” Haechan chimes in. “You are husband material, it’s impossible you’ll stay single much longer.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” he scoffs before his gaze falls on the clock. “Shit, I’m late, I have to go,” he says, jumping off the chair and walking to the living room. Haechan is quicker than you at following outside, but you feel like your knees could give up in two seconds, and you keep your hands tight in a fist, leaning against the door, watching him get dressed. “Thanks for the biscuits and the coffee, I had fun. See you tonight.”

“Bye! See you later,” you two greet, waving with your hands after he quickly hugs and kisses you both.  

When Johnny is out of the door, you jump on Haechan, and he laughs. “You’re a monster. This is not funny!” 

“A monster? You had fun, brat,” he teases, kissing you as he lifts you, walking into the living room, this time laying you on the couch. “And I won’t tease you anymore, I’ll give you what you want. But then we really have to wrap something up here and then get ready for dinner.” 

This time he’s true to his word, quickly pulling your pants and panties down before leaning down between your legs, leaving pecks on your thighs before he kisses your clit, making your hips jolt. 

A shaky sigh comes out of your lips when he pulls the toy out of you, leaving you empty before his fingers take its place without teasing. Your head rolls behind, this time meeting the softness of the couch, and your hands reach his arms, wrapping around them to hold onto something. 

“You’re even wetter now,” he teases, looking down between your legs. Your cum dripping down, making a mess on your ass and his fingers. “You’re such a tease, you know? You can’t even deny how much having people watching or listening turns you on.” 

You groan, hiding your face against the couch because all the teasing before already made it impossible for you to properly talk back. 

“Look at me,” Haechan orders, but you shake your head. He scoffs, cupping your chin to turn your face around. “You’re such a brat today.” 

You scoff, “me?” 

“Yes, you,” he whispers close to your face, lips brushing against yours as a tease but leaving you without the kiss you crave so much. “Think I didn’t see you before? Sitting on your heels, desperately trying to get off without me noticing,” he mocks with a chuckle. “I have to say, you were smart, talking to me and distracting me, thinking I’m stupid. But I saw that, angel.” 

Your body burns up in shame, and you once again try to hide, but his hold is firm, and you soon give up. 

“Is this what you want? Are my fingers fucking you well?” He murmurs, biting your earlobe, making you moan louder. 

“Ye-yes,” you cry out, planting your feet against the couch to have a solid hold as you grind your hips against him. 

“Look at you,” he mocks, pulling back from your face, letting go of it to wrap a hand around your waist and push it down, eliciting another whiny complaint from you. “I guess they’re not enough if you’re grinding on them like that.” 

You shake your head. “They are, I swear,” your voice breaks when his thumb presses against your clit, and your thighs fly shut. 

“Oh no, baby,” he scolds, forcibly pushing your legs apart with his hand. “Keep those pretty legs open for me, you’re not going anywhere.” 

“Please,” you cry out. “You edged me all afternoon.” 

He laughs, throwing his head back. “All afternoon? Damn, sex really gets to your brain. If it’s been an hour, it’s a lot.” 

You frown, trying to glare at him, but the furrow on your face only makes him smile. 

“Fine, fine. It looks like you really want to come, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” you reply weakly, but he doesn’t do anything. 

“Just a bit more. You’re just so pretty like this. And your pussy squeezes so nicely around my fingers, these beautiful sounds,” he hums, pressing against your sweet spot, forcing more cum out of you in dirty squelches. And the lust in his voice just pushes you even closer to the edge. 

“Haechan,” you cry out, eyes closing as your chest heavies more. 

“Use your words, babe. You can do it.” 

And you would do it easily if only his fingers didn’t pick up a faster rhythm, leaving you gasping for air as your eyes stare into his, the fake innocence and smugness behind them driving you insane. 

“Hyuck, please, fuck, please let me come.” 

“Mhh, you sound so pretty,” he coos happily. “Come on, I teased you enough. Come for me.” 

And you do, finally letting go of all the pleasure you’ve been holding in for so long; it doesn’t matter if it’s the entire afternoon or just an hour. Your body trembles against his, your thighs would clench if only it wasn’t for his hand keeping you spread open, and your head rolls back as loud moans slip out. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Haechan moans, slowing down the pace of his fingers inside of you once he makes sure you’re done and then slowly takes them out. 

“Kiss me!” You order, pulling him closer. 

“You’re so bossy today,” he laughs when he moves away from the kiss, and you pout. 

“I need you.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He kisses you again. “Let me get out of my clothes, alright?” You hum, watching him get up to get out of his pants and underwear before trapping your body again. His lips meet yours, and your fingers run in his long hair, pulling hard enough to make him moan and rut his hips against you, but not enough to hurt him. 

“Shit, turn around,” he orders, moving back enough to give you space to move as he helps you get in the position he wants. 

When your face presses against the couch and your hips swing side by side, you hear him inhale deeply and mumble a curse under his breath. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Haechan comments, hands cupping your ass before he leans in, kissing your neck. 

“Please, fuck me,” you beg, ordering in a whiny voice. 

“So fucking desperate,” he mocks, slapping your ass before placing a hand at the side of your face to keep his body up. The other grabs the base of his dick, the leaking tip pushing against your awaiting slit.

You moan shamelessly, driving your hips back, thinking he’s finally going to sink in, but he doesn’t. He rubs the head on your clit, making you shiver, tremble and whine. 

“Please, don’t,” you cry, but he only laughs mockingly at you. 

“Look at you,” Haechan taunts. “How long has it been? One week?” 

“Two,” you mutter angrily. “Two weeks.” It’s not about the sex, per se, but you two have been so busy with work lately that you’ve barely had time to be together. Last week, he did go down on you, but it was quick since he had a phone call, and you didn’t even get the after-cuddles you love so much.  

He snickers, throwing his head back as he keeps teasing, this time pushing the tip in and out, watching your hole stretch and then clench around nothing. “Sorry, sorry. You don’t want my mouth or fingers, you want my dick. Still,” he lowers, hot breath hitting your ear, “don’t you think it’s a bit pathetic after two weeks to be so desperate for me?” 

You shake your head, biting your lips, moving your hips to grind against him and force him inside you somehow, but all with no success. 

“Can you humiliate yourself even more, love?” He jokes. 

“Hyuck,” you whine, searching for his hand. “Yes, I’m pathetic for you, are you happy now? Can you please fuck me? Or do I have to — fuck!” Your complaint gets shut down when he pushes into you, you’re so wet and relaxed he does it with no struggle, filling you deeply and leaving you breathless. 

“Happy now?” 

You nod quickly, smiling widely but letting out no words. 

“Good, so something does satisfy you,” he groans, head falling back as he holds onto your hips. 

You whine, wanting to scream that anything he does satisfies you and that you’re not that greedy, but you let it slip. 

And then it comes, his face hides in the crook of your neck and one of his arms sneaks around you, keeping you close. And you love this, it drives you crazy to know you can have the roughest sex and most mind-blowing orgasms of your life while still being loved and cherished so much. You love it so much that you don’t push him away anymore, but let him sink deeper. All over you. Deep into you. 

“Hyuck,” you call out his name, hand moving behind to search for his skin, and finding an arm. 

“I know, babe, I know.” His lips leave kisses over your jawline, biting softly every now and then, and his eyes roll back when you clench around him. “Am I fucking you good?” He hums, moving your hair away so he can see your face. “Deep and nice, just like you love it?” 

You nod in quick motions. Body squirming under his before it stills when you feel the toy press against your clit again and buzz against you. You let out a high-pitched cry, face pressing against the couch as your fingers fist the soft fabric.  

“Hush, babe,” Haechan whispers against your ear. “We both know you love this.” 

“Yes, but —” the words die in your throat.

“But, what?” He teases. “What’s wrong, honey?” He coos in a patronizing tone, and you groan. 

He knows how easily you come when you use any type of vibrator. He has seen you come undone with them so many times you’ve lost the count. And he knows it’s even worse when he’s deep inside of you, hitting all your right spots while the vibrating toy keeps stimulating your sensitive clit. 

“You — you know what,” you whine, trying to look back to pity him. 

His movements stop completely, and the warmth of his body leaves you except the hand on your waist. “Mh, no, I don’t think I do.” 

You whine louder, hips jerking up to urge him to pick up his thrusts again, and he does, snapping in and out of you like before. 

“So, you won’t help me? I’ll have to find out the problem on my own?” He teases. “But… you want this faster?” 

“No!” You yelp when he puts the toy at the highest setting, making you try to close your legs but with no success. “Hyuck, please,” your voice breaks, tears menacing to run down your face as you feel another orgasm build up in your stomach, fist closing incredibly tight around the pillow of the couch. 

“Oh… my bad. Does it make you come too easily?” Haechan says, faking a tone of surprise as he leans closer to you, finally giving you the warmth of his body again. It’s funny how you avoided contact before, and how much you need it now. 

 You nod swiftly, biting your lips to muffle the messy moans. 

“And my baby doesn’t want that?” He pouts, caressing your hair out of your forehead. “You were so mad I edged you for so long and now you don’t — fuck — want to come over and over again?” 

You don’t answer, not with coherent words at least, and groan again. 

“You can take it, I know you can,” he groans, inhaling deeply as he lifts his body and throws his head back. He teases you a lot but he’s just as sensitive and desperate. Two weeks too long since he had you, and your body is so responsive, clenching and dripping around him, making him go insane too. 

“Let’s come together, ugh?” He moans. “Then I’ll fuck my cum deep inside of you and you’ll come just one last time.” 

A guttural moan slips from your mouth at his words, the idea of him fucking his cum into you over and over until he’ll fill you up with another load driving you insane. 

“Close,” you mutter. 

“Yeah, me too,” he groans, “come.”

Your body lets go, orgasm setting free like a trigger, sending shivers down your spine. Your lips are free from the hold of your teeth, not caring if you’re too loud and someone might hear. It feels too good to hold back. Not only for the pleasure itself, but for the way your boyfriend’s hands run on your hot skin, how his moans and whimpers fill your ears, and especially the sensation of his cum filling you up. When his hips still against you, and his whole body presses you down, you’re still shaking from the aftermath. 

Your eyes flutter shut when he starts moving again, barely giving you the time to come down from your high. 

“You feel so good, I could stay buried in this sweet pussy for days,” Haechan moans, hiding in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and leaving kisses on your skin. 

You moan, letting your body relax to the feeling of him being all over you. One arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand roams around your body, caressing your stomach, your boobs, your thighs, everything he can find. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he comments when he lifts his head, not enough to unstuck his chest from your back but enough to look at your wrecked face. “Most beautiful thing in the world.” 

You melt at his comments, feeling warmth in your stomach, this time not given by pleasure but love. You are loved, wholeheartedly, completely, and endlessly. Every part of you, every flaw, every masterpiece. Haechan doesn’t leave anything behind. He loves you. Deeply. Constantly. Inhumanly. Because you still can’t believe it’s possible for someone to love so much, especially when it comes to you. But he proves it to you every single day, from the sweet words to these passionate moments. 

“Ki-kiss me,” you mumble, pouting until his lips are on yours. The position is a bit uncomfortable but you two make it work anyway. Kissing each other over again, going from deep kisses to pecks. 

“Fuck, pretty,” he groans. “You’re taking me so well. My dick stretching you out, my cum filling you up, so much of it we’re making a mess. You love being my messy princess, don’t you?” 

You nod. “Yes — yes, love it.” 

“I know, princess, I know. Dripping all the way down my balls, drooling on the couch, staining it with your pretty tears.” Now that you’ve opened up to him and cried more than just once in front of him, he loves these tears even more because they are good tears, caused by him not because he’s hurting you but because he’s making you feel good. And he’s obsessed with it, with the way your eyes look. Long lashes clumped together, looking even thicker and longer. 

You’re about to beg him to go faster, but he obeys without you opening your mouth. Hips snapping fast against you, body pushing you even further against the soft couch. 

A small giggle escapes your lips when his hand searches and then finds your hand, intertwining your fingers while the other cups your ass cheek before leaving a small slap. 

“Shit, ever told you I fucking love your ass?” 

You hum, nodding. You’d use some words, but the bliss is too strong to let you do anything other than whimpering and moaning. Your clit is swollen, throbbing hard, extra sensitive with all the vibrations of the toy before, and each slap of Haechan’s balls against it leaves you gasping for air. 

Your hips squirm away, there’s not much room to go since your head is already pressed between the seat and the armrest, but you still slip a bit forward and Haechan chuckles darkly close to your ear. 

“Running away, sweetheart?” The condescending, saccharin-sweet tone makes more shivers run down your spine, toes curling up and stomach twisting. 

Your head moves in incoherent movement, and your hand holds his tighter for support. You feel like your head is spinning, and if it seemed like a good idea to keep the sweater on, now it feels like hell is on your skin. 

“You can take it, can’t you?” He asks, voice genuinely sweet this time, but his body is not more clement with you. The harsh sounds of his pounding are still filling the room, drowning out the Christmas music that’s still playing on the TV — thank god the playlist moved to an instrumental one, or some classics would be ruined forever with these filthy moments in your mind. 

You nod, but he’s not happy with a non-verbal question. Unless you’re fucked out, completely fucked out, he wants to hear your voice when he asks if you can take more. 

“Words. I need words,” Haechan reminds you a bit more sternly, and you whine. “Come on, talk now, ‘cause soon that pretty mouth of yours will be stuffed full.” 

With the risk of choking on your own saliva, you let out a barely audible “yes.” 

“Good girl, that’s my good girl,” he praises with a long hum, caressing your burning hot cheek before ordering you around again. “Open those pretty lips for me, will you?” 

You obey with no hesitation, ready to take anything he gives you. And when two fingers press down your tongue your mouth immediately closes to suck on them, eyes fluttering shut, pussy clenching around him and ass arching up. 

“Fuck, knew you would’ve loved this,” he groans. 

Over the years, you realized Haechan loves doing this. To you, it’s funny because he rarely lets you go down on him, always whining because he has to eat you out, so 80% of the time, when it’s time for oral, you’re always on the receiving end. You don’t complain, you honestly think it’s a blessing he’s so obsessed with eating you out, but you don’t understand why he’s obsessed with watching you suck his fingers and not as obsessed with watching you suck his cock.

His moans get louder and whinier and you feel your stomach turn upside down and your core get even wetter. You almost bite him when his other hand moves from your hips to your clit, rubbing it, making you arch your ass up at the overstimulation. 

Your wet eyes look up at him, begging him for release, but there’s not much to beg since you’re squeezing him, and he’s overstimulated too. 

When his fingers leave your mouth, you gasp, taking in all the air, and start slurring his name. “Hyuck, Hyuck, please, wanna — wanna come, please.” 

He leans down, kissing you. It’s a messy, wet kiss, with lips and teeth clashing, and your hand desperately reach for his body. “Come with me, princess. You deserve it.” 

The orgasm breaks through you, a tingling sensation of pleasure running through your bones making you squirm against his body pressing you down. With one last strong thrust inside of you, you can’t control the jet of liquid squirting out of you. 

A string of curses comes out of you, but Haechan is quick at shutting it up with more messy kisses and quick movements to ride the pleasure out. “It’s alright, you’re alright, you’re alright, babe. Shh, calm down, it’s fine. You did great.” 

Your body slumps against the fabric and you let the warmth of his skin warm you up as you come down from the high. Haechan never stops whispering sweet words in your ear, kissing and caressing you, as he slowly — and reluctantly — pulls out of you. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs when cum starts spilling out of you. “We made a mess.” 

You chuckle, shrugging. “We’ll clean it up,” you say. “Later.” 

He laughs, but turns you around, after laying against the backrest, pulling you close to him. “Want some well-deserved cuddles?” 

“Yes please.”

“Will you see what’s in the bag?” Haechan asks when he comes out of your bedroom, all cleaned up after the shower you quickly took together, and sees you stare down at the brown bag Johnny brought. 

You shrug. You don’t know what’s inside, you could barely get a glimpse when you peeked before, but something makes you fear there will be too many memories, and you’re not sure you’re ready for them all. 

Your head turns around when you feel the couch bend with Haechan’s weight, and it immediately finds his shoulder to rest. His arm wraps around you, sneaking under your sweater to rub your skin, and you sigh. 

“You don’t have to, not right now,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.  

“But I do, I have to see her tonight, and I want to thank her.” 

“Okay but if anything triggers you, promise me you’ll stop?” 

“Promise,” you reply and then you flip it over on the floor. You can feel Haechan’s persistent gaze on you and you feel some sadness wash over you, but you feel fine for now. And then a smile appears on your face. 

“I didn’t know she had our socks,” you say, grabbing the red stockings with reindeer and elves, and studying them. The fabric it’s a bit ruined over time, but they still look the same, and you can still picture them hanging, either on Johnny’s fireplace or on the furniture your family put them on. Your fingers graze over your brother’s name and you smile fondly. “Can we hang them? So I… so I can pretend there will be something for him too?” You ask, turning to Haechan that’s already apprehensively staring at you. 

“Of course, we can even fill his with something, if you want to,” he proposes, but you shake your head. The idea of the gifts being left there would just make you sad, but this is a good compromise. 

“Our scarves!” You bend over to grab them. “We knitted them, and I think you can see it,” you chuckle, fingers running over the bumps in the wool and other imprecision. 

“Better than me if I would try now. My mom is excellent at it, she made me try once and I made way worse than this,” Haechan says, grabbing the other scarf and noticing that it’s not perfect but not even terrible. 

“I’ll keep in mind to ask your mom for this one,” you say, cuddling up to him. 

“Nope, you won’t,” he jokes, shaking his head with vigor, slightly blushing. 

There are other things in there, but mostly decorations, there’s even a Christmas decoration that you loved when you were a kid, and you’re so grateful she gifted it to you. But then Haechan is attracted by something else. “What is this?” he asks, lifting a gingerbread plush, and your heart sinks in your chest. 

Not a word comes out of your mouth for almost a minute, as you try to get some saliva in your mouth. “It’s — it’s me…” 

Haechan studies your expression and immediately puts it away, but you stop him. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble. “I just… I need time…” 

“I don’t need to know, it’s fine, really,” he reassures you, touching your hand, but you shake your head. 

“No, I want to,” you say. You wet your lips and fidget with your fingers before taking the plush in your hesitant hands.  

“It’s not a Christmas gift, but it’s the last gift I got from him… a few days before his death. He called me gingerbread because I was obsessed with gingerbread men as a kid. Honestly, I was terrorized by them, they were men, I thought I was committing cannibalism, but then I tried one and I loved being a cannibal,” you chuckle, voice shaking as you fight back tears. “And when I grew older, I wanted to make them myself, I wanted them to be our family thing, but they never became one. My parents worked until the 24th and didn’t have time to wake up early and make them with me, so it was only me and my brother. He would always wake up early with me and help me make them.” 

“You didn’t make gingerbread men today,” Haechan points out. 

“No, those are for the Eve and Christmas,” you say resolutely. “Don’t worry, I will make them for you,” you giggle, and he smiles. 

“Go on, I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s fine. I would be worried sick too to be left without my cookies,” you joke before turning serious. “A week before his death he walked in a street market and saw this,” you shake the plush in your hands and smile, “and he gifted it to me. He told me that it wasn’t Christmas, so that was a sign that he had to buy it for me and that it was scandalous that in fifteen years he never gifted me anything related to gingerbread men. And I remember that… I laughed so much when I saw it because it’s cute but also weird. The eyes are slightly not on the same level, the smile is funny, and the white lines are all different, this one doesn’t even reach the seam. And he told me that that made it even more special and that I’ve never been normal, so it was even more me.” 

“It looks like you now that I look better at it,” Haechan says, there’s a hint of irony but also sweetness in his voice.

You chuckle, wiping away a tear. “He used to often remind me he would always protect me, but when he gave me that, there was something different. And even if that was me, it was almost his way of telling me that he was always going to be with me, that’s why he had bought two. But his one was normal, and he kept it in the car.” 

“You can stop,” Haechan says as soon as he guesses when this is going, but you shake your head. 

“I held onto this toy for days at the hospital and it was the last thing he held before he… well… you know.” Your voice is broken by tears, the same ones that are rolling down your cheeks, but you’re fine. “I hated this, I hated that his got lost, destroyed, I don’t know, I… never dared to watch the conditions of the car after. I hated it because it was supposed to be me and this gingerbread man, not him. I hated it because it had lost his other half but didn’t feel half the pain I felt. So I threw it away.” 

“But…” 

“Is still here… yes. Because it’s me, and I survived,” you say, chuckling. “No, I’m kidding, no paranormal shits, it’s simply Johnny, I guess. He always knew what was better, and he must’ve kept it to the side, waiting for the right moment to bring it back to me.” 

Haechan hums, his thumb still caressing your palm. “Are you mad?” 

You raise your head, wiping away the tears. “No, I’m glad he always knows what to do with me. If you think you met me at my worst, you have no idea what Johnny had to go through when it all happened. He had to see the joyful, reckless, funny little girl he always knew turn into a cryptic, scheming, and cold woman from day to night and still decided to stick with me. He saw me at my worst, literally…” you breathe out. Another reason why you don’t like to think about back then is because you hate who you were. 

“You deserved him, you deserved to have someone that didn’t judge you or blame you.” 

You shrug. “I don’t know… I gave him a good dose of shit to deal with, as if he wasn’t mourning my brother too.” 

“You know, from all these conversations we had over the past months, and after I could see what you have with Johnny from a closer point of view, I think you’re missing something.” 

“Me?” 

Haechan nods. 

Your lips twitch in a wince, it’s been a while since Haechan taught you a life lesson, but usually you can see where he’s going, right now, you have no idea. “And what is it?” 

“You always say that Johnny is like your brother, but Johnny is your brother. The three of you were raised together, his mom loves you as if you’re her daughter, and we all know that your brother trusted him with you so much that Johnny promised him to always keep you safe. Johnny didn’t choose to stay because he’s a good friend, but because you’re his sister, and because after losing his brother, he wasn’t going to lose you too. Maybe you hurt him, I truly don’t know what you two have been through, but he loves you so unconditionally that I’m sure he doesn’t regret it. And he would stick by your side over and over again.” 

You smile fondly and hum. “You’re right, but I guess I’ll never get free of my guilt, will I? I mean, I still feel so bad for everything I put you through, no amount of good things happening between us makes me feel at peace with myself.” 

“Not to take your therapist’s place but remember what she told you? Why you love to punish yourself for every little thing?” 

You pout, nodding silently. Your awareness of you not being the cause of your brother’s death didn’t make the deepest parts of you aware in the same way. Something unconscious was still screaming at you, urging you to punish yourself even when there was forgiveness from the other side. 

“Can you hug me? I don’t know what else to say,” you confess, and he smiles at you, pulling you into a hug. It lasts for minutes. Minutes of silence, heartbeats, and nothing more. Comfort. Peace. Healing. And when it breaks apart, you smile, feeling another brick of your walls falling down. 

“Do you want to put this in a nice place or are you using it to take over your anger?” 

You smile, grabbing the plush. “I want to put it somewhere nice.”

You never felt so much anxiety run through your bones as you do right now; pacing back and forth in the living room, staring obsessively at the clock, waiting to hear the ring of the bell that will mean such a big change for you. 

You might’ve underestimated what meeting your boyfriend’s parents (and family) truly meant. All the hype you had until two weeks ago, disappeared when you remembered you had never met any of your partner’s parents before. 

“Okay, enough.” Haechan jumps off the couch and stops you midway, blocking your arms. “I usually let you do your weird things, but you will consume the floor if you keep doing this and you will drive me insane.” 

“But I’m nervous,” you whine, starting to torture your lips.

“Oh my god, stop that too,” he says, pulling your lower lip out of your teeth with his thumb. “Move and you’ll see,” he warns when he sees you lift your hand, knowing it will end up in your mouth to pull at your hangnails. 

You sigh defeated and slump on the couch. “I’m nervous.” 

“I got it,” he says, sitting next to you. “They’re chill, I promise.” 

“But I was fine before. Maybe this is a gut feeling, you know? Something is telling me this will go wrong…” 

“Yeah, and that something is your paranoid ass. Babe, come on. You’re perfect.” 

You’re far from perfect, and sometimes you wish you could see yourself from his eyes to see what he sees of you because you struggle to see the amazing things he notices about you. And you fear his family will be extremely disappointed when the fantasies his son tells them through the phone won’t meet the reality. 

Haechan is about to open his mouth again when the intercom rings, and you freeze. 

“Come with me,” he smiles, reaching out a hand, tapping his feet when it takes you too long to take it. “Babe, come on.” 

“I’m gonna pass out,” you mumble as your hand reaches him and you get up from the couch. Haechan sighs deeply as he basically drags you to the intercom to open the door on the floor. 

“You’ll be fine,” he says, trying to shrug off what he’s feeling. Now that you’re so anxious, he can’t help but feel it too. Maybe this was too soon, maybe you’re not ready, maybe this will be the breaking point and he will lose you again. 

But then the doorbell rings, and you’re the first to reach out your hand and open the door. 

“Hi, mom,” Haechan greets when he sees you’re struggling to find the words and throws himself in her arms to give you time to take it all in. 

“Hyuck,” she says, her calm tone filled with love, “look at you.” Her hands cup his cheek and squeeze them roughly, making him groan, and you chuckle. “And look at you,” she adds, bringing her attention to you. 

“Hello, Mrs. Lee,” you greet, bowing at 90°, but she laughs, and you freeze. 

“Oh, honey, please, just come here and let me give you a warm welcome to the family,” she encourages you, opening her arms. 

You quickly glance at Haechan, silently asking if this is a test, but he reassures you with a smile and nods in her direction. So, you step forward and hug her. 

“You smell so good, honey,” she compliments, squeezing you before letting you go, and resting her hand on your shoulder. “And wow. Haechan kept talking about you and I guessed you were pretty but not like this, you’re beautiful.” 

“You’re too kind, Mrs. Lee,” you say, lowering your head to hide how shy you feel right now. “You look beautiful too, now I know why Haechan is so handsome.” 

She chuckles and then pats your arm. “Thanks, sweetheart. And just call me by my name, please.” 

“I will.” 

“So, where are the others?” Haechan asks, looking behind his mom and seeing the empty corridor. 

“We brought something, your dad is taking everything from the car, and your siblings are helping him,” she explains, lifting her bags as you let her come in. “I wanted to dim her trauma of meeting the whole family at once, so I came here as soon as we parked.” 

Haechan rolls his eyes, grabbing the bag. “Food?” 

“It wasn’t necessary, we prepared everything,” you say. 

“I’ll never show up at your house with empty hands, darling,” she replies. “Also, I wanted you to try some of my specialties, I couldn’t wait anymore.” 

A warm smile spreads on your face as you feel you can finally breathe again. Maybe this won’t be a disaster. “I can’t wait to taste them.” 

Haechan was right. His family is loud. But it’s a kind of loudness you missed for so long, you can’t complain. His family is nice, and you can easily slide into conversations with them. The afternoon was mostly calm, you talked to get to know each other and ease the tension, you showed them the house —there wasn’t much to show, but they appreciated it anyway— and you even talked about future plans. 

But now you’re alone in the kitchen, placing the plates you used for the appetizers in the sink, and when you smell smoke, you know it’s time for everything that went well until now to turn into a mess. 

“Oh God, fuck no,” you curse under your breath, blocking your nose with your hand as you wave away the smoke from the oven and try to open it. “Not tonight, it can’t be fucking possible.” 

“Hey, what’s going on — oh,” Haechan says, entering the kitchen after he hears the clattering and your murmuring. 

“It burned. I burned the fucking lasagna. I have to make a good impression on your family and I burn it, I just burn it,” you almost cry, panicking over the burned pasta in the oven dish that now sits on the countertop. “Everything was supposed to be perfect, I had it all planned, and now, oh my god, the meat, check the meat,” you rant, turning around to check the oven again. 

Haechan sighs, head peeking out of the kitchen door. “Sorry, just wait a sec, we’ll be there with the first,” he warns his family before locking the door behind him, not waiting for their answer. It’s not like they care much, busy eating bread, drinking delicious wine, and still admiring the beautiful job you and him did with the decorations. 

“Hey, look at me,” he says, blocking you in place. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. It was supposed to be the first big serving of our dinner,” you whine, furrowing. “Our first Christmas dinner together and I fuck it up.” 

“You didn’t,” he says, looking behind you, trying to hide his face because yes, it is burned, but he’s sure you can find a solution. You two always do. “We’ll fix it.”

“I won’t serve your family a burned lasagna, I refuse,” you cry, hiding in the crook of his neck. “What will your mom think of me?” 

He chuckles. “Really? My mom is in love with you, she didn’t stop complimenting you for one second. The way you look, how smart you are, how pretty this place is and how well you keep it, the delicious food you’ve prepared. I’m sure she’ll have a story for a burned something too, come on.” 

“No, let’s take the first layer off,” you say, pushing him away. “It’s ugly.” 

“First,” he says, coughing, “we’ll open the window, alright? I don’t want to poison ourselves.” You watch him as he does and then go back to the mess in front of you. “And now, let’s fix this.” 

You two take the first layer off, but you don’t feel better, that’s not supposed to be the last layer. You put so much love into it, finishing it with mozzarella and cheese, and now it’s burnt. 

“It looks terrible, they will think I don’t know how to cook,” you huff. 

“I know how to fix it, any parmesan cheese left?” Haechan asks, and you nod, opening the fridge to hand him the box with it in it. You watch him as he puts it on, hiding the tomato sauce, and making it look a bit better, and you think that he’s always the one fixing your mistakes. “See? It’s perfect now.” 

You groan because it’s not what you planned. But it’s still better than before. “Let’s not make them wait longer.” 

“Everything alright? Something happened in there?” His father asks when you two come out of the kitchen, closing the door behind, so the air in there can change, but you won’t freeze in the living room. 

“Yeah, just a minor problem,” Haechan explains sitting the dish down, and you know he wants to pretend nothing happened, but you can’t keep it in. 

“I burned it,” you confess. “I’m sorry, but I got distracted here talking and I forgot about it, and I burned it. And we took the burned part out, but this is not my lasagna. I’m a master at it, and I’m sorry this mess is your first encounter with it.” 

“Oh, sweetie,” his mom says, “all the things I burned all the time. Try to manage four little demons and it will be surprising when you don’t make mistakes in the kitchen.” 

“Hey! We’re angels,” his youngest brother, Dongwook, complains. “Also, can I have the burned part? I love it when it’s crispy.” 

“It’s burnt, not crispy, it’s bad for you,” you say, but his big eyes pleading you, make you look at his parents for approval. 

“Can you bring it here, please? We’ll see how bad it is,” his father says. 

“Dad, Dongwook, you don’t need to see it,” Haechan intervenes, and you know he’s doing it to protect you but you reassure him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Sit, it’s fine. I’ll go take it.” 

You take a deep breath and enter the kitchen again before coming out with the plate with what you and Haechan took off. “Here’s the mess.” 

“This is not burnt,” Dongwook jumps in his seat, grabbing the plate and smiling happily. “You took out the best part!” 

You look at his mother with concern because that is burned, maybe not a lot —you took out the completely black parts and only kept what could be somehow saved, less than half of the top layer— but it’s not crispy either. 

Mrs. Lee just shrugs and tells you not to worry with a wave of the hand and you relax a bit. 

“If it’s not good you don’t have to eat it, we have the meat, it’s still cooking, but it’s good,” you say as Haechan puts a slice in each plate. “I’ll get up in a few minutes to make sure that won’t burn.”

“Why are you so stern with yourself?” His sister, Dasom, asks and you freeze. 

“Dasom,” Haechan scolds. 

“What?” She scoffs. “She’s cool, if I was her, I would be annoying in the opposite way.” 

You chuckle and lower your head because they’re so nice to you. 

“You can’t ask people you’re not close with these questions,” he retorts, clearly not caring that her comment was supposed to be a positive one. 

“It’s fine, Hyuck,” you say, reaching for his hand now that he’s sitting back at its place next to you. “I’m just a bit nervous and I want this dinner to go well. I wanted everything to be as perfect as I planned and…” when things don’t go as planned, I go insane, your son and brother was a victim firsthand, “…when they don’t, it just throws me off a bit. But it’s fine.” 

“Shit!” Daehyun, the middle child, screams. 

“Ya!” Mrs. Lee slaps his arm, glaring in an admonition to not say swear words. 

“This is good!” he says, ignoring his mother. “Perfect. Girl, if this is not your best lasagna your best one is Star Michelin worth it!” 

“Oh, no, that’s too much,” you say, starting to breathe again because for a moment you feared he had found a bone or nerve or something else in it. But you can’t hide the smile on your face when the entire family praises you, the little one even telling you to always burn it because he loves the crispy layer. You’re sure they’re exagerating a bit to cheer you up, but you still think it’s kind enough that they care to put a smile on your face. 

Haechan nudges you subtly. “Told you,” he whispers, and you smile. 

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, shyly meeting their gazes and feeling full as you stare at their happy faces. 

And you remind yourself that it’s fine if things don’t always go as planned, sometimes mistakes and unforeseen can bring nice things. If it wasn’t for the unexpected, you wouldn’t have Haechan by your side and you wouldn’t be having a happy Christmas dinner with your new family. 

You’re happy, and you feel at home. 

“Mom,” Haechan whines, hiding his face against your shoulder before lifting it again, letting out another heavy sigh, “you didn’t have to bring the photo album here.” 

“Oh, she did,” you chuckle, sitting better on the couch to be turned toward his mom who’s sitting next to you with the book resting on her legs. 

You feel Haechan’s head rest against you again, this time completely given up and ready to face the humiliation. 

“Are there embarrassing pics of us too?” His sister asks, sitting on the arm of the couch, leaning on her mom. 

“Probably,” Mrs. Lee giggles before opening the book. 

As the photos pass by, you can’t help but wonder why he’s so embarrassed. “You haven’t changed a bit,” you say, turning to him, moving your arm so you can wrap it around his shoulder, and his head presses against your chest. 

“Thanks, exactly what I needed to hear,” he scoffs, his voice filled with sarcasm. 

“You still have the same smile,” you point out, “and the mischievous grin.” 

“Oh, that has always been him. Every time he did something he wasn’t supposed to do, or ruined something, that little smirk was there. I couldn’t even get mad at him,” his mom explains, and you smile at the image forming in your mind. 

“Don’t pout,” you pinch his cheek, making him yelp, “it’s cute.” 

“As long as you don’t have any from my teenage years, we’re fine,” he says, making his siblings laugh. “It’s not funny. You had the same phase as me,” he points at the two oldest, “and you are in it right now.” 

“I’m not. I’m cool, unlike you.”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” 

“Look at this!” You scream, pointing a finger at a picture of him at the pool, he’s wearing a life vest and has a pool float around him, and his smile is so big as he waves at the camera with both hands. 

“We went to the pool that day, he didn’t know how to swim, he even ate with the lifesaver on,” his dad says, eliciting another groan from him. 

“Stubborn even as a child,” you joke, intertwining your hands. 

“Let’s not get there,” his sister rolls her eyes, and Haechan pokes his tongue out in reply. 

“You have curly hair?” You ask after seeing other pictures of him. 

“Wavy, I would say,” he replies, shrugging. 

“You look even softer like this. How did you not want to bite him every two seconds?” You ask his mom, and she laughs. 

“The cuteness of his face really saved him from a lot of troubles,” she says. “Remember when you stole Mrs. Park’s apples?” 

“I didn’t steal them, I had no idea about capitalism and economy. She gave them to me once, and I thought I could just take them,” he explains. “Turns out the real world is not that easy.” 

“Uhm, a young thief, I didn’t know you were such trouble,” you tease, and he glares at you but then breaks in a laugh. “But seriously, you should wear your natural hair more often, I always thought you would perm them somehow or steal my products to curl them, I had no idea they were natural.” 

“I always told him he looked better like that, never listened,” Dasom chimes in. “But I’m sure he will listen to the love of his life,” she mocks in a high-pitched voice and Haechan throws her a pillow. 

You’d laugh at their exchange if only being called ‘the love of his life’ didn’t make your brain short-cut for a few seconds and send the beats of your heart to an insane rhythm. 

“The love of your life, ugh?” You whisper. 

“You know you are,” he says, smiling at you. “Or does this scare you away?” 

“Not even your emo phase scared me away, so nope, I don’t think this will.” 

“Hey! You didn’t see that yet.” 

“But we’re getting close, the middle school years are around the corner,” his mom says.

The middle school years don’t scare you away, if it’s possible it all makes you love him even more. But the pictures you loved the most were the ones of the family. The ones where he’s holding his sibling after their births, the ones with them on their bikes, on a swing, while playing football or going down a slide. The ones of their summers, mostly at the few parks they had near because it was hard to go somewhere else, but it didn’t matter. You find yourself in them, glimpses of your family and the struggles you went through, always ending in little things that were enough to make everyone happy because being together was all that mattered. And you find yourself in them even now, as they talk, telling you stories, bickering over details that are insignificant but at the same time mean everything, teasing each other in ways only siblings can do. And you miss that, you feel a deep hole in your chest as you watch Haechan laugh with his sister. The way he talks to her, teases her, but at the same time has her back, reminds you of your brother and you. You feel the same void when you look at his parents, how they smile at their kids, the gentle touches of his mom, and the awkward way of demonstrating love of his dad. It all brings you home, and you wonder for a second what it would’ve been like… if only your parents were there too, if only the holiday weren’t such a slap in the face. 

But after the cold shower, you feel a warm embrace. When his mom’s touch reaches you with soft pats on your knees or shoulder. When his sister talks to you to side against him. When his dad tells you he will show you how to carve wood. When his brothers eat your gingerbread men and keep praising you. 

What could’ve been doesn’t matter because there is something now. This is good. You see a light at the end of the tunnel. You feel that your ‘what ifs’ might turn into reality one day, that maybe not next year, but in three, your family will be here too, and you will tell your stories just the same. Because you have a lot of them, and you’re sure your parents would get along with Haechan’s so well. This is warm. There’s not the cold of your lonely apartment or the awkward, abrupt silence as Johnny’s mom went back to her words, terrified of ruining your day. The void that opened in your heart is easily filled by them, and even if you can’t follow everything perfectly, and sometimes it gets overwhelming, you have Haechan’s hand on yours. He never leaves it, it’s there, right on top of yours, caressing your skin, keeping you grounded. 

But then the question everyone has avoided comes. It’s like a drop falling on a vase full to its brim, and it freezes you and Haechan right on the spot. 

“Can I ask where are your parents?” 

“Mom,” Haechan is the first to talk, the stern gaze he gives his mom makes you feel worse than the question she asked. 

“Sorry, I… I didn’t know, I thought she wanted maybe a break to call them or —” 

“Mom!” 

“It’s fine,” you stop him, looking into his eyes to calm him. “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t have to tell them. They were doing fine without knowing anything,” he replies, looking at you. You can feel the anger in his voice and his eyes. 

“I can tell bits,” you say. “Small steps, remember? You taught me that.” 

You can feel the confused gazes in the room, and the attention annoys you more than having to explain yourself. 

 When you turn around, you see his mom, who is about to apologize again, but you stop her by lifting your hand. “My parents are not here,” you say. “I mean it’s obvious, and I guess you want to know why. I’m…” you chuckle nervously. “I’m pretty sure we… we go along well, and we’re family now… right?” You ask hesitantly. 

“Yeah, of course, you were family the moment I saw Haechan’s eyes shine bright when he spoke about you,” his mom says, and you smile. 

“Good. And families should be open with each other, but there are some things I… I still want to keep to myself.” 

When Haechan hears your voice shake, he places his hand on your back, and you relax at the touch. “Me and my parents basically don’t talk anymore. We text for the birthdays, and the important holidays but that’s it. There’s a reason behind it and I think no one is to blame, something happened and the three of us reacted badly, so I don’t want you to think they’re bad.” 

“We’re sorry,” they say at the same time, and you chuckle. 

“We would never think that anyway, not without knowing people’s stories,” his mom says. “I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t think that since you didn’t bring it up, you didn’t want to talk about it.” 

“No, it’s fine. I’m glad you did, so you at least know this of me,” you reassure her. “And I’m sorry I’ve been quiet about myself. I prefer present-me to past-me, especially if I can’t talk about… if I can’t tell the full story.” 

“It’s like Haechan’s middle school pictures,” his sister says, clearly to take some pressure off your shoulders, and you laugh. “Imagine seeing the photos and not telling that he did that to get a girl’s attention.” 

“Dasom, it was a serious moment!” Haechan says. 

“What? She laughed! She’s prettier when she laughs, and she was sulking. You shouldn’t want to see your girlfriend sad,” she justifies, sipping on her drink, and you high-five her. 

“I don’t like you two being so close,” he jokes, pulling you back next to him. But with the corner of your eyes, you notice that his face is much more relaxed now. 

“But seriously, I… I thought I could talk about it, I do with him,” you say, pointing at Haechan. “But your stories were so happy and I miss that kind of thing, you know, a family like yours, so I prefer to listen to you. It made me happy, and I don’t want to make me and all of you sad.” 

You can see the pity behind their eyes. They don’t know what happened, but they can guess, and anything it’s not a happy guess, so they’ll want to tell you something but you stop that from happening. 

“And since it’s almost midnight, and we need to open the gifts soon, why don’t we lighten the mood with some music?” You say, standing up. “Dasom, what about your karaoke?” 

She gasps, staring at Haechan behind you. “You told her?” 

“Of course, I needed her to be ready.” 

“I wouldn’t have done that here, with her, on our first meeting,” she says. 

“But I want you to, I used to do it with my brother, so it would mean the world to me.” You see that when you talk about your brother it’s like she realizes it, something makes her understand what happened, but she doesn’t say anything. She smiles, gets up, and grabs your hand. You jokingly find yourself thinking that if anything will ever go wrong with Haechan, you might try to date her. 

“I’ll go get something else to drink,” Haechan says, getting up, “you two monsters come with me.” 

The rest of the night goes smoothly. You sang for a while before sitting on the floor around the coffee table to eat the dessert you and Haechan’s mom prepared. Popped the champagne when the clock hit midnight, exchanged gifts (his mother gave you two homemade matching sweaters, they were so beautiful you struggled to have a normal reaction), and then played board games.

“I really wish you could stay but this place is so small, I wouldn’t know where to make you sleep,” you say when you’re exchanging goodbyes. 

“You worry too much, honey,” Mrs. Lee says, hugging you. “Everything was perfect, from this afternoon to the dinner, and then the photos, the singing. I never had so much fun. And you know what, I was truly sorry for your lasagna, but it was so nice to not be the one that has to worry about that for once,” she jokes, eliciting a quiet laugh from you. 

“I’m glad you had fun. I never planned a Christmas dinner before, and I feared making you come here from the afternoon would’ve bored you or something, but I think it was a great idea.” 

“It was. And for being your first time, you were amazing. You have nothing to worry about, also the mistakes and the funny things end up in the stories we tell in the years to come, right?” 

“Right.” 

“Get dressed,” she orders the youngest before glaring at Daehyun, “you’re twenty, you should do your things without me telling you.” 

You laugh when they resume bickering while putting their coats on. You catch her rolling her eyes before bringing her attention to you. 

“You know, Donghyuck didn’t bring many people at home before. Most of the time, I had to guess he had some flings or something, but even the ones he felt were worth meeting us, weren’t like you. And I’ve seen him in love, I’ve seen him do crazy stuff, but I’ve never seen him like this,” she smiles fondly. “A mother notices a lot of things, and I’ve noticed his touches on your hand, how he plays with your hair or caresses your back, I’ve seen him rage when one of us overstepped. But most importantly, I see the love. I already had the feeling through the phone calls, but seeing his eyes light up, watching him get lost in you with every breath… wow, I fear you put a spell on him,” she chuckles. Her gentle eyes move between you and her son as a soft smile curls her lips, creating some wrinkles on her cheeks. 

“He loves me like nobody ever loved me before, and…” you pause, turning your attention on him, watching him laugh with his dad, smiling in reflection before your eyes are on his mother another time. “I know it might sound exaggerated from the outside, but his love saved me more than I knew I needed to be saved.” 

She smiles, caressing your arm. “Yeah, I noticed that too. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know if that made you bond more, but if you ever fear he’s not into this, I want you to know that he’s serious. When he told me he moved out of his apartment to live with his girlfriend, I was speechless. I thought he was never going to settle down, especially not so soon. But he did that, and even if he was afraid, he was happy about it.” 

You want to tell her he was afraid for you, but you can’t or else she might think you don’t love him just as much, so you smile and nod. “This was a big step.” It’s not a lie, it was a big step for him too. His life was completely different before you two met and everything changed. 

“Oh, but an amazing one. Look at how cute your place is, it feels like home. Even if it’s not big, even if it doesn’t have design pieces, even if it’s not in the center of town, you’ve got each other. And that’s something you can’t ever take for granted,” she says, and you see her smile sadden a bit as she looks over at her husband, who’s now busy talking with Haechan and Dasom. “But I don’t want to talk about what I had to go through with my husband, what matters is that we made it, and we raised four wonderful kids. And I don’t know if you want them or not, it doesn’t matter, there’s time to grow and change, but you’re young now, and have all your life to live, just the two of you. I just want you to remember to always have each other’s back. Even if you both decide you want to make another big step, you have to have each other to give love and water another flower.” 

You wipe away a tear, lowering your head, and she coos, caressing your cheek. “No, darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

“It’s fine,” you reassure her. Her words made you sad for other reasons, stinging right at the missing piece left by the absence of your parent’s love. “I’m very lucky to have him. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“Mom,” Haechan’s voice rings behind you, and you notice his worried look when he sees you wipe away some other tears. 

“We were just talking, I’m about to cry too, it’s normal,” she explains, smiling at you and you smile back. 

“Sure?” He asks you and you nod. “Yeah, also, I’m just a bit tired.”

“We’ll go now, seriously. We stayed way too long,” she says, calling the sibling at her side with a snap of the fingers.

“Tomorrow at lunch you’ll be here, right?” Haechan asks. His arm wraps around your waist, and he pulls you closer, thumb caressing your side in gentle motions. 

“I do not plan on eating at that hotel, so you can bet I’m going to be seated here, eating the amazing food she cooks,” his dad replies, and you chuckle. 

“Even if I burn it?” you joke. 

“Yes, even if you poison it, honestly.” 

“He ate something at the buffet when we arrived and wanted to change the hotel,” Haechan’s sister adds, rolling her eyes, and making you all laugh. 

“That’s where you get the overdramatic-ness,” you whisper only for Haechan to hear, and he mocks you with a stupid face. 

“Well, time to go, we annoyed them enough,” Dasom says, pushing the younger out of the door. “Merry Christmas, and thank you for everything!” 

“Merry Christmas to you too!” You and Haechan greet again, watching as they all make their way out of the apartment. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Cover up, it’s cold outside,” you say. “And drive safely, please.” 

“We will, it’s not far from here,” his dad reassures you. 

“Goodnight!”

When you make sure they enter the elevator, you close the door behind, and you sigh. 

“Yeah, I now realize I should’ve made you meet them sooner for a shorter amount of time,” Haechan says right away with a hint of irony in his voice. 

“You’re kidding, they’re amazing. I love them.” 

“So you’re not overwhelmed?”

“Maybe a bit, but they’re so much fun. Your mother is lovely. And I love your sister, I need her number so we can become friends.” 

“Nope, not happening. You two together will be the death of me,” he laughs, shaking his head.  

You stick your tongue out before opening your arms to him, begging for a hug. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in, breathing deeply your sweet scent as he caresses your back. “You did so well today, I’m so proud of you.” 

You don’t reply, just smile in the crook of his neck as your arms hold him tighter and feel all the pent-up stress leave your shoulders. You let his perfume lull you, and the warmth of his body calm you. You two stay there for a while, he leaves small kisses on the top of your head, and you chuckle when it tinkles, and just hug him tighter. And you think that, even if you’re always all over each other, hugging is not something you do a lot, and you need to change that. But you’re both starting to feel the tiredness of the day, and you’re the first to pull away.

“Come on, let’s go get changed, I want to slump in our ugly pajamas together.” 

In less than twenty minutes, you both have showered and changed into your matching pajamas, the lights in the living room are off, and you’re ready to go to bed.

When you enter the bedroom, you see Haechan at the window, looking outside, and you quickly reach him, hugging him from behind and starting to leave kisses on his neck, making him giggle.

“What?” He hums when he looks behind and finds you staring at him with big doe eyes. 

“You were so cute as a kid,” you whisper. 

“Yeah, I noted that you would’ve had a crush on me if we met during kindergarten,” he chuckles, and you do the same. 

“No, dummy,” you scoff. “I mean, yes, probably. You were a charmer with your pretty curls and that smile. Would’ve swept little me right off my feet.” 

He turns around, hugging you. “Should we go back in time and see?” 

“Nah, I like our romantic start with the fuck in the car, more appropriate for adult-us,” you joke, and he laughs. “But little you got me a baby fever.” 

“Oh,” Haechan says, furrowing. “You run fast when you want to.” 

You shake your head, snickering. “I’m not that serious, I don’t want it right now, but... it sparked in my mind just for a moment.”

“Yes, we would make pretty kids, that’s what you’re saying.” 

“You ruin all the fun with all this mind-reading,” you pout, crossing your arms on your chest, and he laughs, kissing your pout. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I can’t give you a kid right now, but we can practice, so we know what to do when we want one.”  

You stare at him. “Tell me this was not supposed dirty talking because it’s the worst line that ever came out of your mouth.” 

“Hey! I was trying to be sexy.” 

“You’d be sexier if you just straight up told me you wanted to fuck. Because it’s also what I’ve been subtly trying to tell you.” 

“Nah-ah, you said you wanted my kids,” he teases, kissing your lips. 

You roll your eyes. “Not what I wanted to say.” 

“I don’t reckon a breeding kink, though. Missed something from your bdsm test results?” 

“Shut up, that’s weird. I was being sweet before, not horny. And breeding kink is only funny when it doesn’t turn into actual pregnancy.” 

He stares at you with a confused face, and you scoff, waving him off with your hand. 

“Can I give you the special Christmas gift?” You say, changing subject, batting your lashes seductively at him.

“Sure.” 

“Sit on the bed,” you order and then watch as he does what you say before you take a few steps back so there’s some distance between you. 

“You will not striptease with that ugly nightwear on?” 

You roll your eyes and sigh heavily. “Why do you have to ruin all the fun? This is the best part of it all, the ugly nightwear. Now, will you let me do what I have to do, or do I have to go to somebody else? You know, we don’t have Mark next door anymore, but the neighborhood down the corridor is always so nice to me, and he used to flirt before you moved here, so I’m sure he would appreciate it.” 

“Oh, shut up! He’s lowkey a creep, and he always stares at you as if he’s never seen a woman his entire life. He probably wouldn’t even make you come, but he’ll nut in his pants as soon as you’ll touch him.” 

You chuckle at his accurate description. “So, you don’t want all this to go to waste, right?” you ask, pointing at your body from head to toe. “You better shut up and let me do what I have to do.” 

“Go on,” he says, nodding, and then sits more comfortably on the bed. 

Your dance as you strip is not exactly the sexiest thing on earth with the fluffy, baggy pants and no music playing in the background, but Haechan is having a lot of fun anyway watching your hips move, your hands run on your body, and your teasing faces. 

But it quickly turns serious when you lift your top off your head, revealing a red lace bra. 

“Fuck,” Haechan mutters, sucking his breath in and squeezing his thighs for a second. He has your body imprinted in the back of his mind by now, yet, every time, you leave him breathless. 

You keep going, letting the pants fall on the floor and gracefully picking them up to lay them on the chair, hips swinging as your hands run on your exposed body. You turn around, giving him a perfect view of your ass, and he bites back a moan. You chuckle delightedly, feeling shivers form on your skin when you hear him shuffle with his pants, probably pulling them down to ease the boner. 

You bend over, looking at him upside down, winking when he meets your gaze, before giggling when your eyes fall on his fist wrapped around his dick. 

“Hard already?” You ask teasingly, standing up and facing him. 

“What does it look like?” 

You pout, tilting your head. “I guess we have to do something about it. It’s too easy to turn you on.” 

“It’s not my fault you know all the right bottoms to push,” he replies. 

You huff. “Please, I just danced a bit, like this,” you stop, swinging your hips again and touching your body, cupping your boobs in the see-through red bra before reaching your neck and moving down again. “And bent over.” 

He sighs again, but you notice the gulp when he follows your body. “Dance for me?” 

You smile. “You don’t want me to take care of you?” 

“Not yet,” he breathes out. “Just dance for me, I’ll put some music on.” 

You smile and start moving, this time with slow music filling the silence. The Christmas lights hanging in the bedroom make the room look like a club, and you quickly get into the vibe. 

Seeing Haechan stroking his hand on his hard dick lazily while his eyes are stuck on you, is turning you on much quicker than expected. It goes on for a while, your body moving to the rhythm while his hand gradually picks up the pace, especially when you get in more provocative positions or get close to him, only to leave him with nothing.  

“Touch yourself,” he orders after long minutes of silence. “Bring the armchair in front of me and touch yourself with me.” 

A small gasp leaves your lips, but you’re quick to follow the instructions. You slowly sit, trying to maintain the sexy vibe. 

“Don’t undress.” His voice stops you right when your hands are about to pull the panties down. “You look too good in that set to throw it on the floor already.” 

You smirk, and then your hands move on your body. You throw your head back on the chair as you enjoy the sensation of your hands running on your skin, teasing your nipples, and slowly —too slowly, from Haechan’s annoyed groan— you start parting your legs. It’s clear it’s not enough when he says a stern call of your name. 

“Something wrong? Do you need something?” You tease, tilting your head to the side while your hands never stop touching your body, everywhere but where he wants you to. 

His eyebrow raises, and he scoffs. “You shouldn’t be naughty on Christmas, you know that?” 

You snicker, rolling your head back for a second before locking your gaze again. “Pfft, I already had my gifts, I can be as naughty as I want to.” 

“But do you? Do you want to?” He teases you, leaning a bit over. “I can see the dark spot from here, are you sure you want to punish yourself any longer?” 

You gulp at the intensity of his eyes. One second, you two are in a teasing-switchy-mode, and then one second later, he has this hold on you with just one look, pinning you down, leaving you no choice but to obey. 

“Good girl,” Haechan praises as soon as your legs spread open, one dangling down the seat, the other dangling on the armrest, and your fingers start moving your clit. 

A gasp of relief comes out of your lips, and your eyes flutter shut.

“Nah-ah, look at me. I want you to keep your eyes on me.” 

You lock eyes with him, feeling warmer. You love the way he looks at you, you’re sure you’ll never get tired of it. His eyes are full of lust and love, making you feel desperately wanted and loved. You feel so comfortable in that, knowing you can let him do whatever you both want and never feel used. It is a recurring thought every time you’re exposed to him because it’s something that you didn’t experience in the past. 

“Can — can you tell me what to do?” You shily ask. 

His lips curl in a smirk. “You want me to give you instructions? Not in the mood to have control tonight?” 

You shake your head. You don’t feel like it, even if you love teasing and being bratty, tonight you want to leave the reins in his hands and let him guide you. 

“Good.” Haechan clears his throat and sits better on the bed, his hand still slowly touching himself while the other lays flat on the mattress to keep his body up. “Tease your nipples with your other hand, I know you love to play with your boobs.” 

Your hand moves up swiftly, not wasting a second, and a shaky breath comes out of your lips as your fingers rub the hard, sensitive bud. They’re already hard from the chilly temperature of the room, the heat warming it up just enough to be warm if dressed up, but soon get even harder from the stimulation. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks with a teasing edge in his voice, and you nod. “Move the panties to the side, let me see how wet you are.” 

As soon as you move the crotch to the side, his eyes intensely stare between your legs as he licks his lips, watching your cum drip down, and you have to bite back a moan.

He snickers and you raise a brow. “And to think all you did was dance for me.” 

Your throat goes dry at the mockery but you find the words anyway. “But you — you are touching yourself.” 

Haechan chuckles again, throwing his head back to push back his hair before lifting it. “Yes? It turns you on so much to see my hand wrapped around my dick? Want to have your hand wrapped around it?” 

You nod as you bring your thumb to your lips, biting a hangnail. And he laughs. “You’re serious about me guiding you, torturing your pretty nails to contain yourself and don’t let a finger slip inside of you.” 

At the call out, you move away your thumb but he only laughs louder. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Slip a finger in and tell me what’s running in your mind.” 

Your finger slips in with ease, bringing relief, but words struggle to come out of your mouth as you feel smaller and smaller under his gaze. “I want to — I want to suck it.” 

Haechan smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Really? Want to be on your knees, between my legs?” 

You nod with much more enthusiasm needed, but you don’t care. It’s too tempting now that he has his legs vulgarly spread, his thick thighs begging to be touched as you take his dick in your mouth, and his eyes slightly glossy with pleasure. It’s not a common sight, but you love it. Looking up and seeing his face wrecked, his eyes teary, but what you love the most are his moans and whimpers, so high and needy, as he unconsciously starts fucking your mouth to reach his high. 

“Maybe I’ll let you do it after, but first take care of yourself…” 

You huff but don’t complain further and start to move your finger faster. 

“Good girl. Push another finger in, come on, fuck yourself faster,” he encourages, clearly understanding you’re growing impatient and want more. “You’re so filthy,” he snickers. “So fucking wet, listen to the pretty sounds you make.” 

A muffled moan is your reply to his comment, but your body speaks more than words. Your head rolls back and your eyes close before you remember he told you he wants you to keep eye contact, and your pussy gets even wetter with each pump of your fingers. 

“Please, another one,” you beg. Typically two fingers are perfect, but with each sound of his hand sliding up and down on his dick, and the sight of his length throbbing as droplets of cum roll down his cock and hand, you can’t help but want to fool your body that he’s inside of you. 

He smirks, but it’s not as teasing as before, he’s starting to falter too. “Go on, add another one. Stuff yourself full, pretend all you want that’s my dick inside of you.” It’s not much the dirty talk, but the way he knows you so well that makes you shiver and close your legs for a split second. There’s nowhere to hide with him. 

You bite your lips to push down your throat a pathetic, high moan when he stops his movements to take his top off, leaving it on the other side of the bed. He’s completely naked now, one hand running in his long brown locks before it goes back to his side to keep his body up, and the other wraps around his cock. 

“You’re so hot,” you whine, huffing. And he chuckles, cheeks blushing a bit. You rarely compliment him during sex, too fucked out to vocally tell him what he does to you, and it’s always your body speaking to him. So when it happens, he’s not used to it. 

“Am I? Or are you only turned on by this?” He jokes, head pointing between his legs. 

You shake your head. “It’s you, fuck. Your hair, your lips, the moles on your skin.” 

He chuckles, stopping your praises. “My moles?” 

“Yeah, your moles, I love them,” you confess. He should’ve got this a while ago, considering you always let your fingers brush them and connect them with invisible strings. “I love your stomach, your waist, your thighs. And your hands, fuck, they’re so beautiful.” 

This time it’s a genuine smile that spreads on his face before he lowers it to hide the effect your words had on him, and you smile too. 

“Want to come?” He asks, still overwhelmed by the praises, and you giggle. He’s always so confident, you can’t believe he’s acting shy now. 

“Yes, please. Together?” 

“Together.”

You pull the third finger out, prioritizing swiftness and deepness over thickness — you’ll have time for that. And start to quickly move your two fingers in and out while your thumb rubs your clit. Your other hand plays with your boobs with more eagerness, pinching the nipples and cupping the soft flesh as you please. And soon enough you’re both coming. Haechan’s fast strokes and loud moans are the last thing you need to come, unexpectedly squirting and hitting him too. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans, biting his lips, hips squirming as more cums keeps coming out of him, messily hitting his stomach, chest, and legs. 

Your head rolls back as the pleasure starts slowing down, your fingers are still lazily riding out the orgasm, and your eyes fall shut as your lungs take deep breaths. 

“Fuck, come here, this is torture,” Haechan groans, getting up to pull you on the bed on top of him, not waiting to be steady on his knees. 

You chuckle at his eagerness, honestly, you’re surprised he lasted that long without touching you. 

“Next time we’re doing this,” he hums, kissing you, “you’ll sit between my legs. I need to feel you close.” 

“Yeah, I noticed,” you giggle, pushing him flat down the mattress, and straddling his lap. Your hips grind on him, smearing the cum that splashed on his stomach on you, but you don’t care. You’re focused on kissing him, letting your fingers run in his long hair while enjoying the sensation of his running on your skin. 

“Mhh, are you going to be offended if I ride you instead of sucking your dick?” You ask, smiling awkwardly. 

He bursts into a loud laugh and then shakes his head. “Do you think I’d say no to that?” 

“I don’t know, I was kinda drooling over that, maybe the idea turned you on.” 

Haechan shrugs, pulling you into another kiss as his hands cup your ass. “It did turn me on, but I can’t stand another second not pressed against you. Why don’t we flip position, mhh? You wanted to be pampered tonight.” 

You smile, nodding. “Yeah, I’d prefer it. I don’t think I would last long on top.” 

He rolls you on your back, his lips never leaving yours and you chuckle in the kiss, trying to get rid of your panties, but he stops you again. “Keep them on, please.” You do as told, choking on a silent moan when his fingers brush your clit as he helps you keep them to the side. 

“You love this set, don’t you?” 

He nods, giving two tugs on his dick as he starts pressing it against your soaked slit. “Looks good on you.” 

A breathy, shaky moan slips from both of you as he sinks in, slowly as he always does, enjoying the feeling of every inch filling you up until he bottoms down. 

“You alright?” Haechan asks, and you nod with a small smile on your face. 

“Please fuck me?” You ask, trying to don’t show how eager you are. 

He chuckles but doesn’t tease you, instead, he places a hand on your hip and the other at the side of your head on the bed as his hips start moving. Each thrust is deep and long, knocking the air out of your lungs. And you get lost in the smooth movements of his body, rolling so easily to please you —God bless all those years of dancing. Your head rolls back when he snuggles in the crook of your neck to leave kisses on your skin, and your arms fly to wrap around him and bring him closer. 

You barely notice how one of his hands sneaks under your arched back to free you from the bra, and only sigh at the feeling of freedom that quickly gets overwhelmed with pleasure when his lips wrap around your hard nipples. 

“Fuck, Hyuck,” you whimper with your fingers clenched hard around his hair. You’re tempted to look at him, staring at his concentrated face as he sucks on your nipple, sending more shivers down your spine, but you’re too lost in pleasure and can’t bring yourself to look up. 

You bite your lips when he moves to the other side and the chill air of the room lingers over the warmth left by his mouth. The constant stimulation of your sensitive buds sends new shivers down your spine and makes the knot in your stomach tighten. 

“Fuck, babe, your boobs are so soft,” Haechan moans against your skin. His other hand creeps up and wraps around the neglected one, squeezing tight. 

A breathy moan rolls from your hips as your hand tangles in his hair and your hips jerk up against him.

“What? Why are you pulling away?” You ask in a whine when Haechan moves away from you and pulls out. 

“I don’t think you want me to rip them, right?” Haechan snickers as his fingers pull your panties down. 

“Oh, I thought — never mind,” you mumble, feeling heat creep on your face.  

He smiles, his gaze is gentle as ever as he lifts your face. “You thought I was leaving you?” 

You nod shyly, biting your lips. 

“I would never. See? I’m right here,” he reassures you. His lips meet yours, one hand cups your face and the other helps him slide into you again. 

You moan in the kiss while your hands reach his hair to pull him against you. “Want you,” you slur, watery eyes looking into his. 

“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “I just needed to get them out of the way.” 

Your lips meet again, and never truly part again. His rhythm picks up again, but this time he pushes your legs against your chest, reaching deeper, making you feel every inch more. 

“Hyuck,” you whine, throwing your head back as you gasp for more air. 

“Feels good? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” 

You nod frenetically. “Feels — feels good.” 

Haechan smirks, thumb brushing on your burning cheek before running over your quivering lips. “You’re so beautiful when you’re vulnerable like this,” he whispers, and you’re not sure you were supposed to hear it because it feels as if he’s talking about something else. It’s about you showing yourself fully to him, with no armor, and no mask, and not only during sex. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Taking me so well, so warm and wet,” he mutters under his breath, messily kissing you again, and reaching for your hand to intertwine it with his. With each drag of his dick inside of you, you feel closer to the edge, and automatically your legs wrap around his waist, pushing him deeper. 

“Fuck,” he groans, not expecting you to do that, and you feel his hips falter for a second, but he swiftly picks up the steady rhythm. 

“I’m close,” you whisper, and he hums. 

“Wait for me, can you, princess? I’m close too, just — fuck — just a bit more.” 

You nod and then feel the urge to do something. You’ve got more comfortable with time, but eye contact can still be pretty hard and vulnerable for you, yet you don’t think much when you cup his face and force him to look straight into your eyes. This time your stomach flutters from love, and you melt in his golden brown eyes looking into yours with nothing but love. And you can’t hold it anymore. “I love you,” you whisper, the sincerity and vulnerability in your voice watered down by lust but clearly there. 

Haechan doesn’t expect it; you see it in his eyes widening and you feel it in his hips slowing down for a few seconds. This is the first time it comes out of your lips while you’re having sex, he’s always the one getting a bit more caught up, confessing his love even in these intimate moments, while you save it for other times. He gulps, not knowing what do to, but then a shy smile creeps on his face as he lowers it again; just the time to regain his usual confidence before staring back at you. “I love you, too.” 

You smile, feeling warmth spread across your chest, and pull him in a kiss. 

And after that, you two are just skin and bones burning in synch in the passion of your love. One of your hands is in his hair, tugging a bit, while the other is wrapped around his shoulder, your nails scraping his delicate skin, and your legs are still wrapped around his waist. While Haechan’s hand is resting on your hip, and the other is holding his body up now that he’s lying closer to you and has more risk of losing balance. 

The orgasm washes over you at the same time as he keeps fucking into you and you kiss each other, moaning in the messy meeting of your lips. His fingers dig in your skin and your nails dig in his scalp, but none of you feel pain, just more pleasure as you both ride out your orgasm. 

Haechan doesn’t pull out right away. His head falls in the crook of your neck where he leaves more kisses, praising you in whispers, and you lay there with a dumb smile on your face. 

“Can I stay here inside of you forever?” He jokes, looking at you with a playful smirk on his face. 

You chuckle, shrugging. “I would lie if I said I’d be bothered, but unfortunately it would be impractical.”

“Fine, then just a bit more.” 

You both enjoy the intimacy of this closeness, occasionally kissing and caressing each other and when he pulls out of you, you groan, feeling suddenly cold. 

“I’ll be back, just let me get something to clean you up,” he says, leaving a peck on your lips before leaving. 

Haechan comes back with a wet towel in hand, sits next to you, and gently wipes you clean. Your legs close at the stimulation but his hand on your thighs helps you don’t focus on the fabric passing over your sensitive core. It’s quickly done, and he can come back next to you after a few minutes. 

You rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and smile when his hand wraps around you and starts caressing your back after pulling the covers on top of you. 

“Thank you,” Haechan whispers, eyes fixed on the ceiling. 

���For?” 

“For trying,” he replies, looking down at you to meet your eyes. “This time of the year is always so hard for you, and even last year you hated it, even if we were already together. I know you used to love it, but I thought it was going to take more time to live it with a light heart, well, as light as it can be,” he chuckles, but it’s an awkward laugh. There’s some pain in his voice, and you know that if it was possible he would take your pain and put it on his shoulders, but he can’t. 

You flip on your stomach, to look at him better, but that doesn’t stop his fingers from dancing on your back. 

“You underestimate me,” you joke. You’re not sure you want to talk about this now. The holidays are long, you’ve planned the entire week with his family, except for two days, you might still have some lows. But Haechan seems to always appreciate every small step you take, and you feel good in that pride. 

“No, I know how hard some things are for you. And even if I want you to get better, I would never force you into anything. And it’s… it just means so much to me that you did all of this for me. I mean, for you too, but you started planning months before, you proposed to invite my family over for me. And trust me, I know that our house is still a sacred safe place for you, and you still don’t easily let people in, but you let them. And letting them in is probably scarier than when you let me in back then. But you did it, because you know how much I love my family and how much I love this month and this celebration, and what you did means everything to me.” 

You chuckle, pushing back some tears because you don’t want to cry. “You gave me the strength to do it. I couldn’t stay anchored to the past any longer, it was now or never. If I started hating the holidays even with you by my side, it would’ve been the end of it all. I… once I start relating negative experiences with something I never stop doing that. As much I loved the way the Suhs invited me over in the past years, I knew I couldn’t take another pity-Christmas-dinner. We should have one with them too one day, maybe, but no more pity, I can’t take it anymore.” 

Haechan smiles, caressing your face. “You were different when we ate at Johnny’s last time, I think his parents saw that too. And they weren’t walking on eggshells anymore. Let’s be honest, with you it’s not eggshells, it’s bombs, so I can’t blame them.” 

A soft laugh rolls off your tongue as your head falls against his chest, but the lighthearted moment comes to an end when a veil of sadness falls on your face. 

“Something wrong?” 

You shake your head. “No, I just realized some things.” 

“About you?” 

“About you,” you say. “I feel I will never be able to make you understand how much you changed my life for the better. And I know that in your eyes I sound so dramatic at times, but…” you sigh, eyes falling on the white sheets before meeting his curious gaze again. “But you mean so much to me, and you taught me everything I had forgotten with time. I used to go on with my days, but I didn’t fully live them. I was constantly afraid: of failing, of hurting someone, even killing someone, so I didn’t love, I didn’t feel. All my emotions in the past years were felt by a 30%, just to fool myself that if I didn’t give, if I didn’t put myself out there, I was safe, and… looking back at it now, it sucked.” You stop again, trying to give an order to your thoughts, and Haechan gets it. He doesn’t talk, he waits and listens. Haechan listens. To your words. To your cries. But most importantly to your silence. Because with you, at times, it says much more than words. 

“Somehow, I had died with him that day. Not physically, but I was quick to kill myself to punish myself for what happened. And then you brought me back to life. I was so scared with you because now I… I can die again. Now I have something to lose, I have so much to lose, and it should be scary, but I weirdly feel at peace. I know it doesn’t look like it, but I notice it because I scheme for the little things now, and just let life wash over me. I don’t want control of the bigger picture, I can direct the behind-the-scenes, I guess,” you joke, and he laughs too. His face is relaxed, and it feels good to be an open book, to have no fear of opening up and fearing that the other will leave. “Your mom told me something that made me think of this. As long as we’ll have each other’s back, it won’t be as scary. And this would be scary too if I felt that one of us wasn’t 100% sure of this relationship but, I don’t know, I have the impression that we might want to be in this for a long time.” 

Haechan chuckles, and then nods, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I like ‘for a long time’. It’s stable but not forever. Let’s be honest, would I want to date you even in the afterlife? Nah, come on, give me a break at least there.” 

You laugh and then wrap an arm around his torso. “Just two dates with other ghosts, and then you’re coming back to me.” 

“Yeah, fine,” he huffs, but his voice is filled with irony, and then his lips are on yours again. 

“Be honest, was the lasagna that good, or did they fake it?” You ask with a furrow on your forehead, still tangled in the hug. 

Haechan laughs. “Oh my god, I gave you a mind-blowing orgasm and you’re still thinking about that? But yeah, it was good, if it was bad, you would’ve seen it in their faces. They loved it, and they love you.” 

The conversation doesn’t die there, but shifts from funny moments you had yesterday and the plans you have for the days to come. Then you realize you haven’t texted Johnny and his family a Merry Christmas yet; you could’ve done it in the morning, but you were used to waiting at midnight together and even if it’s almost 3 am, you still want to do it to somehow keep your tradition alive. 

You grab your phone, and write him a text, finishing it with the promise you’ll also be calling him tomorrow. You have so many things to tell him, you know it’s going to be a long call in the morning as you prepare everything for lunch. And right before you’re about to lock the screen again, Haechan stops you. 

“Wait, wait, wait, what? Who’s that?” He says, pointing at the name of a contact and you laugh. “Why are you laughing? What’s funny? My pathetic loser?”

“With a heart at the end,” you add, showing him the phone. “It’s you by the way.” 

Haechan gasps offended, but you see it’s all an act and he’s just curious to know why you have him saved like that. “Really? I’m a loser? A pathetic loser?” 

“No, you’re my pathetic loser,” you correct him.  

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, wow, that makes me feel better,” he jokes. 

“Well, it’s how I saved you when I got your number three years ago.” 

His eyes widen even more, and you’re not sure he’s completely faking it. “And couldn’t change it to something more romantic over the years?” 

“This is the romantic version. At first, you weren’t mine, just the cheesy, annoying, simpy, guy Johnny tried to make me hook up with, but now, you are the cheesy, annoying, simpy, love of my life.” 

He groans, ripping the pillow from under his head to hide his face and scream in it and you laugh at his reaction. “And then I’m the cheesy, romantic one!” He points out and you only shrug. 

“I can change it if you don’t like it,” you say, snuggling closer to him, pulling the pillow away to kiss his jawline and caress his hair back, soft and long, framing his face perfectly. 

“Are you kidding? I love it,” he says, pulling you on top of him, and kissing you. 

“Good, I’m glad you like it, my pathetic loser.” 

It’s late, but you can’t stop talking, tangled up in the sheets, after slipping back into your comfy pajamas, peeing, and leaving the shower for the morning. You tell him the stories you didn’t say today, and he tells you some others his family doesn’t know, and just when the clock hits 4, sleep starts to take over. The soft caresses on your back and his warm body close to yours lull you into a comfortable sleep.

It’s Christmas, you’re in Haechan’s arms, wearing matching pajamas, and your hearts are beating as one. Today will be another long day, but you’re confident it will be amazing, and what’s left of your fears won’t eat you up. They don’t matter, the past doesn’t matter, there’s only one thing that matters now. 

There are only three rules left: be alive, love, and be loved. 

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo ; @yellowgirllsblog

hits different taglist: @adorejaehyn​ ; @matchahyuck​ ; @jjhmk ; @ourbeautifulaffair​ ; @what-the-jams :​ @oleoleniall ;​ @kundann ; @bbagu​ ; @ismileeprnc-responder​ ; @produmads​ ; @zkdlllin ;​ @yesohhsehun​ ; @aliceinwhateverland ;​ @strangevante​ 

taglist with some people that interacted under HD (i hope this doesn’t bother you, just thought you might’ve liked being tagged since you showed love to the first one): @rjtulips ; @lmnhead ; @girlwholoveslpreppyattire ; @lovingvoidgoatee ; @brownsugarbaybee ; @canknot ; @adollsblog ; @ch1llkill ; @bacons-thighs ; @emptynote ; @addyanm ; @marklovexs ; @softieehcficrecs ; @brightestmark ; @jyanigoth ; @haechskies ; @rum-gone-why ; @melloworm ; @cheolctrl ; @taegr0wls ; @onlyseokmins ; @xtrataerrestrial ; @222brainrot ; @johnny-sassville ; @ujisworld ; @cup1dton ; @21497s ; @slushhie ; @sakamoto-hey ; @uyukyeom

taglist with people that interacted with the post: @harrypinks ; cont in comments

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[girlfromthecrypt]

Note: This is merely a pitch introduction post. My main project remains Such Happy Campers. I have no title in mind for this IF (suggestions are welcome), although I am very passionate about the idea and will work on it on the side while I write SHC.

You are... or were one of the most famous yet mysterious characters in the 21st century pop-rock scene. 

It all started when you discovered your love for singing during an extended stay at a psychiatric hospital as a teen. Music became your motivator, and from then on, you knew the stage was where you belonged. Your friends agreed… and that is how your band came to be. After years of practice in your friend’s mother’s garage and cheap gigs at dingy bars, your journey to the top begins abruptly when you team up with a skilled manager.

It's a meteoric rise— until it isn’t. 

And now, a decade after your band has withdrawn from the public eye, you’ve accepted an interview by the acclaimed Groove Magazine. You and your former band members have agreed to give them the truth, the whole truth; as ugly as that might be. 

Follow the story of your band’s rise to fame (and eventual fall from grace)

Play as a pop-rock vocalist

Name your band and customize your music, lyrics and image

Handle the media, interactions with pushy fans and your own repressed thoughts and fears 

Romance your coolgirl-bassist, the childhood friend you cut out of your life, your absolutely insane guitarist, or your biggest fan/stalker

Give one hell of an interview

Inspiration: Daisy Jones and The Six, Fleetwood Mac

TW: themes of mental illness, substance abuse, death, mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation and self-harm, unhealthy relationship dynamics

ROs:

Stevie McLaughlin, bassist (f) — “I suppose I was the sanest one in that bunch.”

She’s one of your oldest friends, and if you follow the clanking chain of cause and effect all the way back to the beginning, it is her you have to thank for your entire career. The band was her idea, after all. She’s level-headed, composed, and always there to talk you down when you need her. Sometimes, she acts more as your retainer than anything else…

Paul/Paulette Zima, lead singer & saxophonist (f/m selectable, trans) — “Trying to figure out where you know me from?”

Your band’s brand-new, second lead singer. Your manager says they’re going to give your music the kick it needs, that they’re the one missing ingredient to your success. You’re not entirely sure if you agree. Worse yet, you happen to know this person, and your time together didn’t end on a favorable note. They’re part of a past you would much rather forget. 

Angel Monsanto, guitarist (m) — “I was always going to make it big, with or without those guys. Only, I… I really wanted it to be with them.”

Your crazy but good-hearted guitarist. His passion for music borders on obsession, and he will stop at nothing to make a name for your band. Sadly, he’s very much of the conviction that all publicity is good publicity, which has encouraged him to pull some very questionable stunts in the past. 

Lincoln Saunders, groupie?? (f/m selectable) — “What can I say, I loved them. When they first walked out onto that stage, it felt like my heart was going to explode.”

Calling Lincoln a fan would be an understatement. Fanatic is more like it. You remember seeing them at your very first show, and you’ve continued to spot them at every venue you’ve played at since. You don’t know anything about them, and perhaps changing that would be a very bad idea. But maybe you still want to.

Others:

Fatima Shah (f), drummer — “I’m pretty sure they tried to make me disappear with their fog machine.”

After things didn’t work out with your original drummer, Fatima saved the day. She’s a sweetheart to you, but from what you’ve heard, she can be kind of a terrible person. Maybe it’s best to stay a little wary of her.

Kalena Graham (f), manager — “The first time I saw them… well, they kind of sucked. But I knew, I just knew, that they had what it takes to suck on an international level.”

Your band’s manager. You can’t believe how lucky you were to have caught her attention. She’s experienced, driven, well-regarded in the industry and… kind of mean.

Simon Young (m), reporter — “Start at the beginning. And then, don’t stop.”

The guy conducting the interview for Groove Magazine. He’s nice enough, if a little starstruck. It seems he has been waiting a long time for this.

[dividers by @thecutestgrotto]

Please consider reblogging if you like my work!

[the-oblivious-writer]

Touch Tank

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: Tensions are high when you go over to the Carpenters' apartment after telling Tara you would fix their sink; Sam isn't exactly what you would call your 'biggest fan'

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara & R aren't together, & no pronouns used

Notes: Another work based off of Gilmore Girls! Currently re-watching it and I'm slowly inching towards s3 ep 19... I'm avoiding it like the plague (I wanna stay in literali bliss just a lil longer 😔)

4/7 for Seven Days of Christmas

You made the mistake of agreeing to fix Tara’s sink.

Somehow Tara roped you into agreeing. Plumbers were expensive, and with paying rent in New York while also paying for college, they were already on a tight budget. You offered them a cheaper price, and you honestly didn’t mind giving Tara a favor.

That was before you remembered Sam would be there too.

You have known Tara all of five months, and in that time you haven’t exactly left the best impression on her older sister. Sam has already caught you sneaking in ten times—you got lucky every other time—and it didn’t help that you had an attitude. 

Tara wanted nothing more than for Sam to get to know you—to not just go off the you she made up in her head. So, when Sam found out you would be coming to fix their kitchen sink… she figured it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to give you another shot. Besides, she was doing this for Tara. She wasn’t sure as to why Tara was so persistent on it, but all she knows is that Tara wants you and her to get along. 

—

You walk up the stairs to the shared apartment after getting buzzed in by Tara. Once you get to the door you knock and the door opens.

“Hey,” Tara greets.

“Hey back,” you reply. Tara moves to the side, letting you in. Once you’re inside you look at Tara once again before smiling to yourself.

“You’re very punctual,” she remarked—watching as your eyes wandered.

“Yeah, well, it was either this or more apartment hunting with Danny.”

“You’re moving?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Don’t really get the point—the apartment’s fine. He says there’s ‘interior damage’ or whatever. Nothing I can’t fix.”

“Who knows; a new place could be nice.”

“I guess. He’s kinda eyeing the vacant apartment that’s not too far from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… not saying it’s a sure thing but if we do move, can you promise you won’t get sick of me?”

“Sick of that face? Never…” She gently pinched your cheek teasingly; heat rushed to your face. 

“Did you change your hair?” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“What?”

“Your hair looks…different.”

“So segway’s not your thing, huh?” 

“Is it?” 

“Uh, no. I wear it like this a lot. Why?”

“Just…” You shrug, “Different.”

“Oh. Bad ‘different’?” She tugged on the hem of her shirt, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason. 

You smirk, about to answer her question, but turn your head when you hear a noise coming from down the hall. It sounded like Sam yelling a curse before Tara looked back at you with a light chuckle.

“The sink hasn’t been putting her in the best mood,” she elaborates. 

“She’s usually in a good mood?” You quip with raised eyebrows, tone laced in sarcasm. Tara scolds you with a look, causing you to back down. “Alright, alright.” 

“This fucking sink is driving me insane–” Sam cuts herself off, stopping in her tracks when she sees you. 

“Oh. Y/N. You’re here,” she says and you simply nod at her words. “Refreshing to see you use the front door for once…” She murmurs but you and Tara hear it. Tara scolds her with the same look she gave you just moments before. 

“If you want there’s Dr. Pepper in the kitchen,” Sam reluctantly offered. You looked at Tara then at Sam before briefly nodding. 

After a few seconds of silence, Sam clears her throat. “Okay, well, everything’s in the kitchen if you want to get started. The toolbox, and gloves are all there. If you need anything else just call one of us.” 

Tara looks between you and Sam before speaking up, “Come on, I’ll show you.” She extends her hand, gesturing to the direction of the kitchen. You begin to walk in that direction but before Tara follows behind, she gives Sam a look.

“I’m trying,” Sam huffed. 

“Well keep it up pleasee,” Tara requested as she walked away to the kitchen. 

By the time she was there, you were already setting up. “Question,” She states.

“Yes?” You put the pair of gloves in your back pocket, looking over at Tara.

“You come over. You seem to have a very firm grasp of the English language. You put together several full sentences—even using a couple of words that contain two or more syllables. And then my sister appears, and suddenly we need a thought bubble over your head to understand what you’re thinking. Can you tell me why that is?”

You looked down at the four-way silicone key in your hand before looking at Tara again with a  response. “The verbal thing comes and goes.” 

Tara sighed, lightly rolling her eyes. “I would really appreciate it if you would try to get along with my sister.”

“I took the Dr. Pepper,” you stated as a matter of factly. 

She furrowed her eyebrows, “I know.”

“Personally, I think it’s a little crazy to put lemon in Dr. Pepper—buuuut I took it anyhow.” You reached for the bucket and rag as you heard Tara huff.

“Stop it.”

“Ooo, stern face,” you say as you lift the tool and bucket to place by the sink. Tara continues, following you as you crouched down by the sink.

“Look. I went out on a limb for you, trying to get my sister to give you the benefit of the doubt. Okay? So, I don’t think it would hurt you to try to be nice.”

You put down the wrench you had just picked up, now fully turned and standing to look at Tara as you spoke. “Why?” You simply asked, taking off your jacket.

“Why?” Tara mirrored.

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Because she’s my sister—and she and Danny are dating.”

“So?” You tossed your jacket on top of a nearby chair.

“What do you mean ‘so’?” She asked incredulously; her eyebrows stayed furrowed.

“So, just because she’s your sister or Danny’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that I automatically have to get along with her,” you stated with pure conviction, rolling up your sleeves. 

“Y/N, my sister is a great person. She’s also my best friend—so if you care about me at all you will take that into consideration,” Tara was now crossing her arms as she stood her ground. “And you will be mildly polite to her.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, looking her up and down before responding. “What makes you think I care about you?” Tara didn’t need eyes to know you were smirking and enjoying this way too much.

She blushes, looking down at the ground and shaking her head as she grows flustered. “I–I don’t mean care-care. Like—care. I mean if you like me at all—not like-like! I just meant that–” Tara stumbles over her words, tucking in a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You watch her with amusement, a soft smile grazing your face as you let out a light snort.

“If you think of me remotely as the sort of person you could occasionally stand to talk to then you will try to get along with my sister. That’s all.” 

Your eyes never pulled from her once, only looking at her with fondness as you finally said something. “Okay,” you nod.

“Okay?”

“Can’t guarantee that it’ll work but I’ll try,” you confirm. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” You glance at the sink then back at Tara. “Should probably get to work.”

“Right. Sorry—go ahead.” She turns to walk away, looking at you one more time before leaving the kitchen. You crouch down by the sink again, not meeting her gaze but feeling it. She doesn’t see how you grin to yourself; your mind being plagued with thoughts of the younger Carpenter.

Guess it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort. 

—

Later that night, you decided to stop by Tara’s window for a surprise visit. You looked at her for a few seconds—admiring how peaceful she looked—before lightly tapping on her window. She turned to look at the window, a grin grazing her face when her eyes meets yours.

She lifted the window with a smile as you looked up at her fondly. “Hey,” you finally said after the window fully opened, expression never faltering as you leaned your head against the window frame.

“Hey back,” she replied. “Didn’t you say something to Sam about not coming through the window anymore.” Tara heard from Sam that you managed to hold somewhat of a conversation with the older Carpenter, actually making an effort to try with her. No matter how awkward it might have been on your end, at least you tried.

“You talk about me with Sam?” You asked smugly.

She rolled her eyes with an infectious smile. “Just get inside.”

“I didn’t hear a no~” You say in a sing-song voice. Tara pulled you in by your sleeve, roughly, might you add. “Watch the shirt,” you complain while you’re pulled inside her room.

“Quirk it.”

“How gentle,” you sarcastically complimented; you dusted your pants off with your free hand, not commenting on how Tara still held a grip on your other arm. 

“So,” Tara began as she sat on her bed—dragging you with her, “What are we watching tonight?”

“I can’t do Freaky Friday again.”

“Fine.”

“How about Cursed?” You inquired. Tara was leaning her back against your chest; she looked up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

“That movie’s terrible.”

“One-hundred percent, but Milo Ventimiglia is in it.”

“Doesn’t he only have like six minutes of screen time?”

“But in it, nevertheless.”

“You drive a hard bargain… Get the laptop?”

You respond by reaching over to the night stand, grabbing her laptop. You hand it to her and she opens it on her lap. 

Tara would never comment on how she was the only one who got this side of you—the gentle, kind, and considerate side. Well, when she wants to see you squirm she comments on it. But for now, she’ll keep it to it herself.

-----------

A/N: the urge to write a paper on how jess mariano is a truly misunderstood character grows each & each day...

(I got beef with star hallows. we leave it at that.)

[rachetmath]

Family

Ruby: F*** you!

Raven: F*** you!

Yang: F*** you!!

Raven: F*** you!!

Qrow: F*** you!!!

Jaune: Why are they screaming at each other?

Nora: I don’t know. Probably, because Raven abandoned them and is the worst mother ever.

Jaune: Isn’t that your mom then?

Nora: F*** you.

Jaune: Yep. Anyways… Yo!

RYBB: WHAT?!!!

Jaune: Can’t you all talk about this? You know like a family.

RYBB: f-

Jaune: Try me. Try me and see what happens. Understand, you all can be or are on my shit list. I already have my issues with my family. I already talked to Winter about hers. I will humble all of you. 

Raven: Look kid this has-

Jaune: It’s crazy how you know about family but abandoned your kin for a bunch of strangers.

Raven: … 

Jaune: It’s crazy how you’re your daughter's biggest stalker but just like one you can barely have a conversation with her.  And attempt to take her life the moment your views differ from one another.

Raven: … 

Jaune: It’s crazy how you risked your tribe, only to give the relic to your daughter, probably the only present you’ll ever give her out the years of her life. And what’s insane is you did all that because you didn’t want to deal with Salem even though she held your tribe hostage. Speaking of your tribe where are they now?

Raven: *silent*

Jaune: Sit you no leadership, die-hard shogun ass down.

Raven: *sit down*

Qrow: Well damn kid-

Jaune: Bitch I’m older than you now but even before that I was more man than you.

Qrow: Now hold-

Jaune: I will admit you showed up when Tyrian came. However, you want to know why I was pissed and made those assumptions?

Qrow: I mean I saved Ruby and your lives.

Jaune: Yeah. You were watching us from a distance. Good. But you were late. Which means when you were late we encountered Grimm. Now what could cause that?

Qrow: Um…

Jaune: You were drunk.

Qrow: Well-

Jaune: Back to the journey to Mistral and after you could have been more useful in almost every event.

Qrow: Woah kid I was-

Jaune: Dude when you couldn’t find any hunters, you didn’t even bother trying to help any of us improve. When we were trapped in a room with Salem's allies and your sister, your first thought was to stand around, do nothing, and find out.

Qrow: Okay b-

Jaune: Raven kicked your ass. Hazel punched your back out. And the only one you were protecting was Oscar. What happened to Ruby and Yang being your nieces? Speaking of Oscar didn’t you punch him in the face and never apologize for it?

Qrow: That was for Ozpin.

Jaune: In Oscar’s body, don't try to defend this. Suppose a huntsman saw that, would you not be arrested?

Qrow: Okay now that I think about it-

Jaune: Oh, and when Oscar went missing what the f*** were you doing? Getting drunk, again.

Qrow: I was having a hard time.

Jaune: Screw you.

Qrow: Well at least I didn’t endanger my friends.

Jaune: At least I didn’t get one of my friends killed. Like with Clover. Which I will say, great job in letting Tyrian escape. It’s crazy how even sober you are still an idiot. Also, you’re a fraud. Qrow: Well I-

Jaune: Like now there is no comparing us, I’ve been through more shit than you will ever imagine. And I wasn’t given a choice. You were. And that’s misfortunate. Your nieces almost died a couple of times and you weren’t there to help them. I was. God I’m starting to realize why your team is a mess and why, Tai, hates you. You are both a downer and a deadbeat. Pick a struggle.

Qrow: *silent and sits with Raven*

Jaune: *stares at Ruby and Yang*

Yang and Ruby: *sat down immediately*

Jaune: So what are you all going to do?

RYBB: Talk like a family.

Jaune: Good. Now you excuse me I need to write a letter to my mother who I am not on the best of terms, right now. Bye.

Nora: Jaune? Jaune, is there something you want to talk about? I’m openly available.

Jaune: F*** you too, Nora.

Qrow: How long was he on that island?

Ruby: Uncle Qrow, we had our first argument on that island.

Qrow: Oh… s***.