#so I’m dumb and so fucking sleepy

[sebsrainbowbicycle]

I AM SENDING YOU LOVE TOOO AND ALSO A HUG AND ALSO A BITE

Bites you bites you bites you

[wakingstarstuff]

I need people to understand that Musk destroying Twitter by going after its usability is a deliberate and insidious choice

He doesn’t care that he’s gonna lose $44billion because the tool he’s systematically tearing apart each day was the tool used by journalists, lawyers, academics, doctors, scientists, activists and so many more valuable experts to disseminate vital information and it was being used to organize people, speak truth to power, and to fight authoritarian despots wherever it was accessible. Ffs search and rescue operations esp after natural disasters for YEARS relied on Twitter to determine where their help was needed most and which areas were in need of what resources.

Elon is a moron and don’t get me wrong I love laughing at his expense too but it’s so clear to me that while he’s certainly no evil mastermind he’s definitely making very deliberate choices right now.

When Twitter dies, those experts will probably move on to different apps. They’ll be scattered and you won’t follow everyone to 17 different apps. That’s the point of this takeover and rebranding and Twitter blue and dm limits. He wants to drive out users, get rid of features which enable people to organize and campaign. He wants people to question each others credibility. He’s gonna make back that $44 billion. Didn’t his net worth quadruple during the fucking pandemic?? He’ll continue to be hero worshipped by his cult of blue-check zombies and one of the greatest (albeit riddled w it’s own brand of flaws and issues) tools of communication will die a slow, painful, and embarrassing death. Not w a bang but w a whimper.

[floral-hex]

January 2024: well, I can’t get my antidepressants anymore and this withdrawal makes me want to kill myself. From now on I’ll just raw dog these feelings so I never have to deal with these side effects again.

June 2024: I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. The world is ending. We’re all walking through the end times and whether I die soon or the world collapses in on itself, I can feel the simultaneous emptiness and crushing weight of the end. There is nothing.

[confier-boyfriend]

Not bisexual as in whatever stupid definition people have come up with again, but bisexual in that it sounds nice.

[evqnescene]

😑🫱

[00kittenz]

── close to you. ( sjy ) ☕️

๑ All your boyfriend wants is to feel closer to you, but you’ve been so tired and so busy these days </3

pair: needy bf!jake ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, (some) angst, fluff, very needy + attention starved jake, exhausted reader, jake just wants to touch you— feel a bit closer to you :(, small argument, make-up s.x, c.ck warming, oral (f. rec), unprotected s.x | words: 1.4k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“baby ! you’re finally back home, it’s super late..” jake was happy to see you again but soon frowned upon your tired, dull appearance, taking you in his hold straight away. “i made dinner.” his firm hands swam across your back, whilst spreading honeyed kisses along the crown of your head.

“thanks but, i’m way too tired to eat..” he watched as your slouched figure laced against his, all your weight accompanying his.

“but you have to, princess.” “sometimes we have to do things we don’t wanna do.”

“yeah, but—”

“no !, you aren’t gonna starve on my watch, i don’t care how sleepy you are.” jake scolds your stubbornness, his eyes catching yours for a moment, staring straight into him. he hates how tired you looked, but also loved how good you looked when you’re tired.

the look in your eyes giving him a lusty reminiscent, something he’s seen before. it reminded him of how little of time you have to see him these days, you’re always coming home late because of work. it’s even worse that you just come home and go straight to sleep without a single spoken word some days. he feels neglected at times, but he’s just too scared to ever say anything— which only makes him even more anxious; the cycle just continues to spiral…

“jakee..” you childishly whined, you didn’t even wanna move your jaws to talk to him, that’s how drained you were at the moment.

“i’ll feed you, is that fine ? just eat mama.”

he was so gentle and patient with you. and that’s all you needed for nights like these to put you at ease.

you simply nod in response.

๑ ๑ ๑

“would you stop it already !” you heave out a heavy sigh. jake just wouldn’t stop touching and squeezing you. you were beyond tired, but now you’re tired and aggravated.

“what..”

“don’t play dumb, you know what.” your hands grasp onto his forearm, removing his form on your waist. “it’s too hot.”

“but baby,” jake sulked, “what about me..”

“what about you ? what do you mean ?” you furrowed your brows as if they could furrow any further than they were.

“don’t you ever think about how i feel ?” “you leave me alone all day, then you come home and never— you never wanna discuss how our days have went.. y’know? like old times.” he bravely spoke, he didn’t care if you’d get mad at him for speaking his mind, it’s how he truly felt. he missed you, what else could he really do. “don’t you know how that makes me feel? how i feel when you don’t ever wanna talk to me ?”

you could only look at him in shock and disbelief, wondering where this was coming from all of a sudden. “you really expect me to come home holly and jolly after a full 8 hour shift ?” you scoffed, sitting up in your place. “i work all goddamn day, and what do you do? clean ? cook ? i provide everything you fucking need. you should be more than a-okay.”

“is it not enough ? do you want more ? what do you want from me, jake !” you didn’t mean for your voice to raise louder, it just came out that way, his body language visibly shifts once he heard that, going in defensive mode.

“no !” he didn’t know what else to say, he couldn’t say much of anything else, if he really spoke his mind then things would go south, quickly.

“no? are you serious right now?” jake felt his heart sink at your sudden outburst of laughter. what was so funny to you? he felt mocked. played with even. it’s like you don’t even care about this relationship anymore.

“i don’t even want any of that shit, y/n. i never asked you for anything, nothing.” “all i want is you, do you not fucking see that !” “i’m human too, doll. i need attention, love, i want you that’s all. that’s all that fucking matters to me. so.. please.”

your boyfriend was practically begging for you. he shouldn’t have to. he was right, you felt sorry for him, the one thing that kept him going leaves him alone majority of the time. leaving him miserable, repeating the same, monotonous routine all damn day.

“jake.. ‘m sorry, i just. don’t have any energy. for this right now.” “im just, so ... stressed.”

“i understand that, but you have to talk to me baby. you’re constantly keeping to yourself, i’m here to help you yet all you’re doing is pushing me away. i just want you to know that i’m here.. ” his hands glide up your arms, squeezing your shoulders. gently massaging them.

“you know, you’re so tense mama..”

“hm ? i am ?” you groan at the attention your shoulders were receiving, you always loved when he gives you massages.

“let me relieve you. you won’t have to do anything. just let me make you feel good.”

๑ ๑ ๑

“hah.. jake...” sweat glistened across your forehead, your back arched against the ivory bedding you found yourself grabbing ahold of.

jake delicately tore through your folds, like he was savouring every bit of you. like this would be the last time he would have you. his breath skimming over your dripping core, leaving your tummy all fuzzy inside. you missed this. so fucking much. fuck.

“ba..baby..” your fingers played with his hair, “so good, yessyes..” your thighs were constantly forcing themselves closed at the tingly sensation he made between them. his tongue thrusting into your sweet left you absolutely phenomenal.

๑ ๑ ๑

after a while, jake pokes his head from between your legs. the transparent juices adorning his pretty lips— and chin. a giggle escaping your lips as he puckers his lips at you. wearing your residue as a lip gloss.

“nuhuh !” you squirm, not very fond of the idea of basically eating yourself out as jake attempted to place wet kisses onto your lips, instead landing everywhere but them. “ewie !”

“oh shut up, you taste quite swell actually.” he rolled his eyes, finally giving in, licking his lips. “toss over for me, babygirl.” he tapped your hips, getting a pillow ready to place under your build. then after, fondling with the waistband of his pants.

the feel of jake crawling over you, caging you in. made your stomach bubble, tired ? who said you were tired ?? you sure didn’t. (yes you did.)

“mama, top drawer.” he demanded of you, tapping on your ass, as if it was a drum.

“i dun’ wanna..” you look back at him with pleading eyes.

“y’sure ?” jake assured you, unsure of the thought of you not wanting to use a rubber.

“mhm !” you swayed your rear from side to side, as if rushing him to get inside you already. impatient motherfucker.

“you on the pill?”

“no.. but i was thinking of having your baby so—” you teased, giggling as if to make your response sound the least bit innocent.

you were cut off by the fill he added of you, how much of a tight fit he was for you. he hasn’t fucked you in a while so you’d have to get used to this again. jake could say the same, as if he wasn’t being squeezed to death. all he could do was try and catch his breath.

“you good ?” he asked, wanting to know if it was okay for him to move. pacing himself as soon as he got your okay.

“hell yeah..” jake giggled at your response, picking up his speed just a little.

all you could think about was how he had you mewling, your vision going blurry. he was fucking you numb. you needed him more than anything right now. the sound of your squelching, sticky pussy being rammed into relentlessly echoed between the walls.

“fuckfuckfuck !” you bit harshly at your lip, almost enough to draw blood, drooling onto the fathomed sheets.

jake was driving you merely insane, whispering sweet nothings into your ear while ruining your tight dewy pussy. his dick spreads you so well, throbbing and pulsating inside your heat.

“so goddamn good, mama. taking me so well.” he puckered sloppy kisses along your nape, to your shoulders, nibbling at the soft flesh. pumping into you more aggressively. your head gently met the headboard from time to time.

he never wanted this moment to end. you could say the same, as if his dick weren’t devouring you whole.

you ended up calling out “sick” from work the next morning. as tired as you were, you hadn’t got a wink of sleep— but most of the blame could be pinned onto your insatiable boyfriend, jake.

U⁠^⁠ｪ⁠^⁠U

[coryosbaby]

—ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ !

Mike Shmidt x fem! Reader

♡ Content Warning . oral, somno, rimming, pnv, breeding, marking, degradation and praise, dom! Mike

Mike Schmidt who lays in between your parted thighs on his day off. His hands settle on either side of your hips, and his nose presses against your cunt. And although you’re so needy for it, needy for him, he just… lays there. Your scent surrounds his senses, filling him up and making him happy. Just laying there smelling you gets his cock so hard but he’s so tired that he doesn’t want to do anything.

Mike Schmidt who will always give in to your whiny begs for his mouth after a few moments. Soon his tongue is parting your folds and he’s licking you to his heart’s content. Whimpers leave his lips as his lips slurp up your slick, his sleepy doe eyes rolling back at the taste of you.

Mike Schmidt who spends as much money as he can on you. Not even getting mad when you “accidentally” go over his spending limit. You begin to cry when he asks you, but he just coos softly as he holds your hand.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to be mad at you if you tell me the truth, okay?” And then, shortly after, as he’s unbuckling his pants, “You can make it up to me, gorgeous.”

Mike Schmidt who facefucks his gorgeous, dumb baby— aka, you. He makes sure to grab extra tight onto your hair and thrust himself messily into your tight little throat. His balls slap against your chin and he makes so many noises as he uses you. This is supposed to be a punishment, so he makes you get off on the nearest object instead of his cock.

Mike Schmidt who coos at you, pouting mockingly as he sees you rub your swollen clit against his work shoe.

“Aww, baby. Do you need to cum?”

Your eager nodding makes him chuckle, and he yanks you further down onto his cock until your nose is pressed against the brown hair at his base, pressing his shoe harder onto your pussy.

“That’s too bad. This is your punishment, sweetie, remember? Be a good slut and cum just like that.”

Mike Shmidt who, days later, has you clinging onto him as he holds you up with his strong arms. A camera in front of him, filming the entire thing, as his cock jackhammers into your sweet cunt. Groaning, whispering, “fuck, good girl, taking my dick so good, look at you, yes, baby, yes.”

Mike Shmidt who slams you against the nearest wall, cock still inside you, tip abusing your cervix over and over as he increases his pace. Using his teeth to leave an incredibly prominent bite mark on your that draws blood.

Mike Shmidt who cums inside you, moaning and saying that he’s gonna fuck a baby into you. He fills you up until you’re overflowing and then some, making sure to shove it back in with his fingers afterwards. He wants you to be a mommy so badly, and he’s going to make sure that it takes.

Mike Shmidt who timidly asks for a rim job one night. His cheeks redden as he asks the question, his pretty doe eyes avoiding your gaze.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” He states shyly. The once dominant boy has now become incredibly shaken, but you just smile at him and excitedly agree.

Mike Shmidt who’s riding your face a few minutes later, hole clenching up on your tongue. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but at the same hes got this growling tone in his voice as he praises you. It seems that his dominant side has come back.

Mike Shmidt who groans from above you, working his cock and balls with his own hand.

“You’re so filthy, baby. Fuck, your tongue feels so good.”

“My sweet little angel, doin’ so good f’me.”

Mike Shmidt who’s puffy ring of muscle clenches as he finally shoots warm cum all over the bed, overstimulating himself and demanding that you lick all of seed up as he gets his dick up again watching you.

Mike Shmidt who loves to keep a pair of your lace panties wrapped around his car mirror. He lied to Abby and said that it was a scarf you had given him.

Mike Schmidt who fucks you during one of his shifts— he had a hard day, so he demands that you come and see him. He forces your legs apart and bends you over the security desk, and spanks your ass raw to relieve some of his anger.

Mike Shmidt who lets you play with him when he’s asleep. His dreams go away when you wrap your mouth around his soft cock and choke on him with sweet, sleepy tears rolling down your cheeks. When he wakes up, he praises you for taking care of him.

“Oh, baby. So needy, so good f’me.”

“That’s it, good girl, choke on it— no, no, honey don’t try to pull off. You wanted this cock, so I’m gonna give it to you, okay?”

“So beautiful. C’mere, let me taste that cute pussy.”

Mike Schmidt holding you after a hard day. Knowing you need a distraction, he lets you grind against his thigh as a way to relieve so stress. He presses you to him and leaves small marks against your neck.

“Just think about me, okay? Think about my hands, my mouth…”

“Awww, sweetheart. I know, I know. Life’s been so hard lately, hasn’t it? But that’s okay. Mikey’s here, baby. Gonna make it aaaaall better.”

© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!

[6gumi]

scandalous!

synopsis ﹒bllk men reassuring you that all those useless false scandals and fake news online are false ! ( in a rather . . peculiar way than normal reassurance . . <3 )

pairings﹒ michael kaiser, itoshi sae, oliver aiku x f!reader

cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. unedited ( mistakes might be present ) 、 blowie ( oliver aiku ) 、dirty talk 、riding ( michael kaiser ) 、small titplay ( itoshi sae ) 、mentions of cheating but it doesn’t acc happen, promise ! 、v4ginal fingering ( itoshi sae ) 、use of feminine terms ( girl, gf (?) etc) 、 more tba !

note ﹒hello every1 ! ! :,3 wrote this while working on my art project lol ! ! ! first bllk work i believe ? ? i hope there isn’t too many mistakes in this one i’m very very sleepy trying 2 make my art look nice . . :,3 | reblogs r highly appreciated, feel free 2 send me an ask ! — millie ♡

୨୧ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

“come on, mein liebling . . is that really what you’re worried about? i assure you . . these pathetic scandals aren’t true anyways.” with a firm grasp on your hip, he guided you on his cock with such elegance and ease, wanting to fuck all worrying emotions lingering beneath that pretty face of yours. “speak to me, liebling. do you seriously believe all of those rumours going around about me? about us?” his voice was addictive . . your head was completely empty . . filled with nothing but his damn voice. even so, these stupid rumours and scandals . . . as reassuring as he is, you can’t help but think maybe there’s some truth behind those rumours.

sweat glistened his well-fit body and yours, mingling the intoxicating fragrances within the air. squeezing your breasts in his hands with a lick of his lips, his fingers grazed down your spine, grunting at his own sharp and desperate thrusts. you rode him with the same amount of desperation and arousal he had. your passion filled him with both satisfaction and hope . . hope that you believed you were his only, utterly dependent and devoted to you. the blonde’s fingers dug into your soft flesh as every movement brought you both closer into harmony, each groan echoed against the walls of your shared bedroom. “that’s it . . .” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breathing ragged from exertion. "ride me hard, beautiful.”

your face contorted in pleasure as you slammed yourself down against his cock, feeling the tip kiss your sweet-spots as you struggle to speak up, the mere feeling of his cock was enough to send you to heaven itself ! just then, your mouth opened to speak. “i—it’s not impossible,” you murmured, “what if you’re lying to me . .” “oh baby . . . do you really think i’m not telling the truth?” kaiser’s face grew serious, snapping his hips upwards against your pussy. he relished the feel of your warm body against his, wanting to fuck those precious thoughts out of you. he was telling the truth, those stupid articles . . were only trying to ruin his image. his large hands gripped your hips tighter, his nails practically digging into your skin with a sense of desperation . . wanting to prove himself to you.

“mein liebling . . . seriously. i’m telling the truth. i’m telling the truth when i say this pussy is mine and mine only. and i’m definitely telling the truth when i say this cock is yours to fuck yourself dumb on.”

“ . . you, mein blume . . . have nothing to worry about. my cock belongs to you.”

୨୧ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

“i mean it, [name].” sae whispered against your ear, sending streams of electricity through your spine. his renewed determination to reassure you became his goal for the day, pressing his nose against your neck again, inhaling the scent of your fragrance. he had you seated on his lap, his hardness pressing close against your ass . . . trying his best to hold it in when the time comes. his fingers darted out again, swirling around the sensitive nub. “y—you don’t mean it . .” you protested, which only made things more harder for sae. he hated when you doubt his words, his movements growing more confident and skilled with each passing moment . . mind focused solely on pleasing his pretty girlfriend who was all worried about these articles that weren’t even true.

“i do mean it.” your boyfriend’s heart pounded in his chest, free hand reaching out to touch your breasts. his fingers brushed against your nipples, making them harder than steel. "hm. what can i do to make you believe me?” he grips your hips, pulling you towards him, erection straining against his shorts as he struggled the urges to fuck himself balls deep into your pussy. “those articles aren’t always true, angel-face. i mean it. i’m telling the truth, okay?”

grinding his cock against your lower back, he pushed another finger inside. your walls trembled, gripping his digits with pure vigour, you could almost feel his cock throb ! “mmh.. but the article . . .” your whimpers were music to his ears, pleasure dancing across your face, replacing the looks of uncertainty and concern. an absurd wave of protectiveness washed over sae then— the idea that these people were making up false and uncouth claims and lies filled his heart with sick dissatisfaction. their declaration of his infidelity was another layer to his coldness, he hated all of them, he wanted you and you only . . . was that not obvious ?

“i know, angel, but they’re not true.” he whispered huskily, holding your heavy breasts steady. “fuck . . . you always say such pretty things," he murmured against their your damp hair, fingers lightly grazing down your labia as he thrusted them back in, wanting to make you cum and lose your mind completely. “please, you know those articles are just bullcrap trying to put our relationship at risk. but i’m not letting it happen.” there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he pulled out from within you, leaving behind an echo of fullness in your core.

“you know i love you, angel-face. is that in your head yet? or do i have to fuck it into you?”

୨୧ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

“oh fuck . . baby, you’re suckin’ me good.” oliver bit back a grunt, eyes drifting shut. he was supposed to be reassuring your pretty little head that he only had eyes for you, but it feels too fucking good. too tempting. he hoped and prayed you wouldn’t blame him later for wanting your mouth. the way your wet heat surrounds him sends him in a frenzy . . . your tongue swirling and dancing around was enough to drive him absolutely insane, he wanted to push your head down further onto his dick, thrust inside and give you all of him . . show you just how truthful he was being at this moment. “m—mmf . . listen baby, all those articles are just tryna’ ruin people’s images of me, of us. they ain’t real and will never be, kay?”

the sensation of your soft mouth enveloping him sends electricity straight to his body, wanting more of your mouth. desire raced through his veins, drowning out rational thought. your warm breath, soft moans . . he can hear all, feel every stroke of your tongue. your small sobs, and even those pretty tears. ohh . . . those tears. he loves them. gripping the armrest, fighting to maintain control. your precious tears streaming down your face . . . it only aroused him further, his dick twitching in your mouth.

you sniffled, trying your best to accommodate his size. “baby, i’m really telling the truth. all those cheating rumours . . . those pictures are photoshopped— ah fuck . . baby you gotta’ believe me.” oliver groaned loudly, mouth curling into a satisfied yet concerned smile as he watched his dick go in and out of your lips, his hips slowly moving on their own as he slammed himself against you, forcing you to take more of his cock. “i’m tellin’ ya, baby doll,” his voice rasped hoarsely in the air, swallowing a lump in his throat. “does my cock being in ya not prove anythin’? you’re the only one i imagine suckin’ me off so perfectly like this . .”

oliver couldn’t help but grin cheekily at the slurping he heard from you, “damn, you’re takin’ it all, baby. always knew ya were my girl . . never thought i’d end up with such a pretty girl like you . . don’t believe those dumb rumours, kay?” a low groan escaped your beloved boyfriend, hands running through your hair tenderly, guiding your movements until he could take it no longer. “just like that, darlin'. make me yours, again and again."

“can’t wait to be inside ya tonight. provin’ to you that i only want my dick to be inside this pussy.”

[pigeonpeach]

Yandere sex shit

Cw: fem reader, pregnancy risk, degradation, dubious consent for some, somnophillia, breeding, women with dicks, might be mildly misogynistic in arlecchino’s but idk if it really counts as that.

Characters included: Diluc, Arlecchino, Neuvillette, Yelan, and Pantalone

“I can’t stop…” his voice was like a growl almost. You raised your head, your body felt sore as you took in the scenery and the position you had been forced in. You were on your side, leg hitched onto his shoulder.Diluc must’ve come home late while you were already asleep. The fact your nightgown had been hitched, your panties pushed aside, and your womb had been filled was enough to incriminate him yes. But it wasn’t like you could leave this olace anyways. As his pace resumed the chains on your hands clanked slightly. You hated how you still had to be chained to this day. You had been so good and yet his staff still doesn’t trust you. Or is it their way of offering you as a sacrifice to him, leaving you defenseless so he can have his way. Although initially you were numb to all pleasure, your mind sleepy snd still processing everything. You suddenly gasped as you felt him knock against your g-spot. Your arms thrashed, the chains clanked and jingled.

“You feel like so good.” He commented,”Haah… fuck If you squeeze me like that… oh… fuck.. shit I’m going to cum.” Your eyes widened as you looked down. Unable to communicate your concerns as you realized you had no form of birth control here. Nor was he wearing a condom. But it felt so good you didn’t want to stop deep down. The previous rounds sloshed inside yourself as you couldn’t help but spread your legs s little more. Your sensibility actively fucked out of you.

You just had to hope you weren’t ovulating

“Please~~~!” You whined. The vibrations of the toy inside had been edging you for so long now. Each time you would get close to release Arlecchino would pull it out making you squirm desperately. You had tried to escape recently, growing a bit paranoid after being here for so long against your will. But after what must’ve been hours of orgasm denial the torture session’ had turned you into what you would later regret. But currently you were dumb and horny and really just wanted to cum already.

“You haven’t earned it. Disobedient wives to be don’t try to escape in the middle of then night now do they? You’re a bad little fiancé and therefore you need be punished until you’re absolutely sorry.” She growled into your ear. You whined as she pulled it out once more.

“N-no no I’ll be good i promise! I promise I’ll be good!” You whined desperately. Your hips chased the toy to no avail. You heard her belt unbuckling. You looked down to see a rather impressive cock. You were to out of it to think about how she wasn’t reaching for a condom or any form of protection.

“You promise? As if that has any value.” She smacked your face with her cock. “Don’t just stare at it, be a good little whore for me and I’ll consider letting you cum.” You gulped but quickly pressed your lips to it as she quickly forced it in. Your sounds of surprise were muffled as she quickly settled her own pace.

“A useless little whore. Am i the first to defile this little mouth? Will I be the first to deflower you?~” she grasped your hair like a leash. Forcing you up and down until suddenly pulling out.

“W-wha-“ you whined as she suddenly flipped you over.

“I need to know how pure my beloved little fiancé is.” She responded with immediately sinking her cock into your pussy. You whined as you felt absolutely heavenly. Squirming as she established a brutal pace. “You’re tight, even after all that foreplay… fuck… i need to defile you, make you my whore and only mine. I’ll turn your body into my little cumdump!” You gagged from the ferocity of her thrusts. You tried to say something but it came out in stutters and mumbles. She seemed to understand it somehow. “You’re going to cum? Good. I want to feel you cum on my cock again and again until I fill your womb with my seed.”

“The Iudex is… currently in heat.. miss please do consider your position on your marital responsibilities!” The maids pleaded with you. The Iudex, the hydro dragon was currently in heat but hadn’t the heart to make you accompany him during it. You turned your head away. You could care less if your captor was suffering, it hardly would be as painful ad you felt just being here. “Please its been absolutely torrential rains!” The maids pleads ment nothing.

“I don’t care. Now where is that tea I ordered?” Normally you would be polite and respectful of service workers. But considering who they were working for and what their intentions were you really couldn’t give s fuck if you made them cry. What you didn’t know was in that tea they begrudgingly brought out was a aphrodisiac.

“My love… they said you weren’t feeling well…” His hands traced over your face. You didn’t really know where he came from just that he emerged from hiding to help you. You were certain those maids had some role in your current predicament, but also you were too horny to care. Your body felt firey and hot and you needed him more than ever. He opened his mouth to lick at your sweat as his hands reached down below your nightgown.

“Just… get it over with..” you whined, trying to maintain some defiance. It was humiliating sure but… oh you couldn’t help but fall apart as his finger entered inside. His cold hands making you clamp onto him tightly.

“So.. warm.. fuck.. you’re fertile too.. i can taste it in your sweat.” He purred. “I won’t be able to control myself. Please pardon me.”

“Ne-neu-neuvillette!” You whined as he slammed every inch of his cock into your sopping wet little cunt. His hands pinning you down as you squirmed mindlessly. All resistance long drawn out as you had been fingered through three orgasms until now. You were practically his little bitch now. Unable to think straight.

“You’re so tight for me… fuck I can’t… i need to breed you my love.” You gasped at his words but couldn’t respond as he started to fuck you at a brutal and unrelenting pace. His cock dragging against your insides only to slam back in. “So good for me. So good…” his whines turned you on more than you would like. But who could blame you when his cock was just so thick and reached all the right places, his voice bordered on a purr as you were held in a mating press unable to stop or resist as his cock bulldozed any thoughts out of your head. The aphrodisiac making you into a fine slut.

“Cum inside! Please!” You begged instinctively. Your body wishing to be fertilized and impregnated beyond your senses. You needed him in this moment more than anything.

“Fuck… can’t.. stop… ugh!” He groaned loudly as he came, his seed flooding your womb as you whined in release. He paused briefly before resuming his pace. “I’m going go knock you up, maybe then you’ll finally be a obedient little slut for me”

“You’re such a bad liar you know. I wonder what your god would think if she saw one of her top soldiers bouncing like this.” Yelan was simply smarter than you, a simple Fatui agent. But you really couldn’t resist. Her charisma was irresistible. Her voice itself was aphrodisiac that made you buck your hips.

Pantalone would no doubt be utterly disgusted if he saw you now. Although he’d likely be more disgusted that you were bottoming than your sexual orientation. But the chances of you ever returning now were low. You had a feeling this encounter would leave you in her grasp forever based on that possessive stare she held. “Fuck… you’re such a good slut. I don’t know how you haven’t been taken by that harbinger yet, although he already doesn’t have good tastes in fashion, he must’ve been blind to your true potential~”

“N-noooo… ah~”

“No? You aren’t a good slut? I beg to differ. I don’t think I’ve had this much fun interrogating any of the other agents before. You certainly are a catch.” She purred. You tensed up at the idea that your colleagues may have similarly found themselves in your position. “Don’t worry, you’re the first I’ve done this too. I just couldn’t resist the way your uniform looked on you. You’re always so well dressed. Maybe I should steal your clothes and send you back to him nude?”

“N-no!” You gasped, blushing more than you should’ve. She winced as you clenched on her.

“I’m only teasing now. I have absolutely no intentions of letting you go back at all.” She grinned like a cat as she suddenly held your hips down, forcing you to feel her deep inside. You flinched and squirmed. Desperately trying to get off or finish. “Look me in my eyes now.” You hesitated before eventually obliging. Your hands bound tightly in some artistic pattern behind, your legs sore and exhausted. You were used to the point of exhaustion, a normal sensation but not in the sexual sense. You thought if you could break your restraints now and gain some freedom you could make a escape now, you would just have to cover your torn tights that left your cunt exposed- “I know what you’re thinking. You’ve already tried to break those restraints and you haven’t succeeded yet. Why would you even want to go back anyways?” Her hands pushed your thighs so you were on your back, legs in the air, you tried to kick at her with what little sense and strength you had. But she grabbed it with amusement.

“I’m not letting you leave. I think of all those nick-knacks I’ve taken from that harbinger you’ve certainly been my favorite. I don’t care what he tries, you are going to be mine. Even if I have to melt your mind myself. I’ll happily train you to be a good little slut~”.

“I-i didn’t mean anything sir I was just trying to be polite to her!” You whined. You were simply his secretary. Used to handling and recieving guest when he was busy. Apparently Signora had a bone to pick with the Regrator, some drama you weren’t aware of and she decided to… make him jealous? You hadn’t even known of his feelings. Despite his smile he is hardly expressive minus when he’s angry. What were you supposed to do other than abide by her advances! She was a harbinger afterall!

“I don’t care about that. I don’t care if that manual didn’t specify or told you what. You are mine.” Pantalone was certainly pissed now. His eyes revealing a unnatural and omitting a possessive aura. You felt like a mouse in the clutches of a cat. You hadn’t even been stripped yet as he had simply thrown you onto his desk. He towered above you as his hand trailed up your skirt, which was now pushed up to expose you. “You are my secretary. And I swear if I have to lock you up in some room in my mansion I will gladly do so. I don’t care if some harbinger catches your fancy or whatever prior commitments you have. You will henceforth be considered mine both in mind and body.”

“I-I didn’t know that you considered me in su-AH!” You squeaked as he tore your tights. Those tights weren’t the fragile type either, special made and lined with thicker fabrics to help insulate in the typical blizzards you would encounter leaving the office.

“It doesn’t matter now…. You’re practically leaking right now. You tremble and shake but your body is as ripe as a peach. I wonder if you’ve dreamed of this scenario before…” his voice grew more assertive. “Or maybe you were thinking of that woman instead. Hoping she’d be the one to see this perhaps?”

“N-no! No sir!” You shivered. Your legs trembled as you were utterly lost on where to go from here. You couldn’t escape and you hadn’t ever fucked your boss before so this was a quite the adjustment. A shiver ran up your spine as you suddenly felt his lips latch onto your dripping cunt. Your hand reached to cover your face from embarrassment. Trying to stay still as if it wasn’t already to late. What made you even more embarrassed was the sounds he was making. The sensations and pleasure you felt was in your veins but the sounds of wet smacks and slurping could be heard potentially out of his office. You knew they hadn’t finished soundproofing it. Anyone passing by would hear it. Your hand suddenly was tugged away.

“Don’t muffle your sounds now. You were oh so chatty just a few seconds ago. So go on, scream, cry, beg I don’t care. The louder you are, then the better other people will hear you.”

“Bu-but that’s p-mmmmm!” You bit your lip as a finger suddenly entered. You didn’t even notice the rings had been removed.

“Go on. Let everyone in this building know your mine!” He growled as he began to finger you more aggressively. The tips of his fingers still clothed by his gloves, reached your g-spot making you yelp and squeal. “I’ll make sure you never go unmarked again. You aren’t going to leave this office or my presence until I’m thoroughly satisfied.”

[rafey-baby]

hidden

Been thinking about outlaw!rafe holding pogue!reader hostage in her own house after banging his fist on her door in the middle of a stormy night, demanding to be let in with a gun in hand and wild waves in the sea of his eyes.

cw: outlaw!rafe is more obx accurate in this so he’s pretty mean and manipulative, mentions of murder and violence and other dark themes, he’s also weirdly soft in the end?

wc: 2k

he's been stuck in my head for a while so hope u enjoy xx

part two part three

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

There’s still sleep dust lingering in her lashes when she hesitantly cracks open the oak door at 3am, revealing a tall, scary man with scarlet stains on his big hands, white button up saturated in maroon and a scowl painted over his unsettling countenance.

She stands there like a deer in headlights, unmoving as he stares down at her with arctic eyes as chilling as the frigid waters surrounding an iceberg. 

At first, she thinks she’s still asleep, tired brain conjuring up some creepy murderer scenario where she’s the idiot who does everything the audience in the movie theater is screaming at her not to. But as she properly blinks her sleepy eyes open, she comes to the realization that this is not a horror film and this intimidating stranger (with oddly appealing features) who’s definitely just killed someone is very much real. 

She’s about to open her mouth and she’s not sure whether she was going to scream for help or simply stare at him with her mouth hung open in shock but she doesn’t get the chance to find out before he’s pasting a massive palm over her mouth. 

”Don’t make a sound,” his low mutter makes a shiver run down her spine.

And she doesn’t, instead she just blinks, too out of it to even move a muscle; the reek of the dried blood on his hand hitting her nose, making her face scrunch up. And she doesn’t know why she’s not putting up any sort of a fight, blaming it on the fact that half of her brain is still swimming in the lake of her dreamland; soaking up the glittering sunbeams that never dull and dipping its toes in the grass that consists of misty nebula and twinkling stars.

And he’s just so mean, ordering her around with a gun to her head, manhandling her around to his liking, grumbling about needing to stay at her house for a bit since he needs a hiding place from the cops after dumping a body somewhere in the ocean and getting caught. Apparently, his temper really just got the best of him at times. 

”I didn’t even mean to kill the guy, alright. He just kept pissing me off on purpose and I was provoked, what was I supposed to do?” He offers as an explanation that seems to do very little to soothe her overstrung heart that’s thudding in her ribcage. It’s loud enough for him to hear; almost as if she’s a terrified rabbit and he’s a big bad wolf, hunting down his prey. 

”I’m taking a shower now, and you’re not gonna move an inch, you understand? Cause if you do, I’m gonna have to hurt you, and I really don’t wanna do that, okay?”

She nods her head, unable to form any coherent sentences.

He takes note of the way her inhale gets caught in her throat when he steps closer to her, inquiring whether she lives alone or not, to which she just nods her head again. 

“Dumb girl”, he tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. ”When someone’s knocking on your door at 3am you don’t fucking open, alright?” 

She’s making it entirely too easy for him. 

The second he’s in her bathroom, she forces her exhausted brain to think; quickly coming up with a rickety plan as she listens to the water streaming down from behind the door. She waits for a moment, making sure the coast is clear before she bolts towards her bedroom, trembling fingers grabbing her phone from her nightstand and trying to dial 911.

However, her shaky hands don’t help her one bit when they drop the phone; the clattering sound of it hitting the floor echoing in the quietness of the room. 

She can’t breathe, her brain short-circuits as she bends down, reaching for the wretched device that has somehow tumbled under her bed. However, when she finally catches it in an unsteady grip she hears the shower turn off; an eerie stillness following. In her state of panic she fruitlessly tries to turn it back on and call for help but it’s proving to be harder than she thought when her lungs decide to stop working, her respiration shallow and her heartbeat ringing in her ears. 

”Boo,” a low whisper right behind her makes her blood run cold; a shiver traveling down her spine as she slightly jumps, a faint gasp leaving her. 

”Why did you just do that, huh? Told you, didn’t wanna fucking hurt you and then you go and pull this shit,” a strong hand is gripping her by her throat as he turns her around to face him. 

”I’m sorry, I...I don’t— ” she’s paralyzed, unable to move. 

”You don’t what, huh?” He stares into her horror-stricken eyes with an almost bored look, seemingly entirely indifferent to her torment. 

”Can’t…can’t breathe,” her voice is nearly inaudible, making a grim chuckle bubble out of his chest. 

”Can’t breathe? Maybe you should’ve thought about that before, yeah?” He scoffs, cruel words mocking her. 

”You’re so fucking stupid, want me to kill you, is that what you want?” He grits out as he squeezes at her neck, making her feel dizzy; gasping for air. 

”No! No, please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Won’t— won’t do it again, promise, I’ll do anything—” she manages to force out as he’s nearly crushing her windpipe in his unrelenting grip. 

”Anything, huh? That’s real tempting and all but what I need you to do is not pull stupid shit like this, you understand?” 

”I won’t, I promise. You can...stay here for as long as you want and I’ll help, okay?” she thinks she’s gonna pass out soon, stars peppering behind her fluttering lids and her weakened limbs starting to feel heavy. His coarse panting fills her eardrums as he seems to contemplate her offer for a moment. 

”If you even think about running to the cops tonight, I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?”

She’s frantically nodding her head and at last, his hold begins to loosen around her trachea, allowing for her greedy lungs to finally suck in air as she takes a step back, trying to even out her respiration. 

He doesn’t say anything, silently observing her as she clears her throat, swallowing a few times as she tries to pacify her racing heart and calm the thoughts running around her head; trying to reassure herself that she’s still alive and she will stay that way if she just doesn’t rile him up anymore. 

He notices how her rounded eyes look up at him as he stands before her, smelling like her honey-scented body wash and orange blossom shampoo, nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, leaving very little to her imagination as the room grows quiet. 

”What’s— um…what’s your name?” Her voice is creaky when she tries a different approach once she feels the flat floorboards under her wobbly feet again, a nervous hesitation overlaying her precarious question. 

”Don’t worry about it,” he simply dismisses her, but a small pout molds her mouth as she stares at him and he lets out a discontented sigh, rolling his eyes. 

”Rafe,” he finally responds, not bothering to ask for hers, seemingly not caring enough for it. She tells him, nonetheless and he laughs at her priorities. A literal criminal has broken into her home and she cares about fucking introductions. 

”So…have you— have you killed anyone else?” She doesn’t know why she’s trying to make small talk with him but she supposes if she gets him to talk about something, choking her to death won’t be at the forefront of his mind anymore. 

”You seriously wanna know?” He raises his brows.

She thinks about it for a moment and then settles on shaking her head, followed by a harsh chuckle rumbling out from his sturdy chest. 

”So, uh— what is it that you do? Like besides…killing people and stuff?” She tries once more. 

”Look, the less you know, the better, alright?” He simply states, making her let out a soft sigh in defeat. 

All of a sudden, a vigorous thunder crackles behind her windows, an ablaze lightning illuminating her dimly lit bedroom soon after. 

She flinches at the sound and the sinister way it momentarily lights up his face.

“You scared of a little storm?” He feigns concern as he peers down at her. 

“N— no,” she lies, forcing her face to stay neutral, hesitant about him finding out her weaknesses.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe, yeah?” The mocking grin on his face causes a shudder to travel through her as she swallows, wishing this was all just a nightmare she could wake up from.

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

After that little incident, he thinks that she’s just as sweet as sugar, offering to make him tea and asking if he wants a blanket or an extra pillow so he’d be more comfortable sleeping on the couch.

He can tell that she’s merely doing it because she’s terrified of him, which she should be. Nonetheless, he thinks it feels nice to be pampered, doted on; to have a pretty girl following his orders like a trained puppy. Makes him figure he's gonna enjoy his stay just fine.

The following morning though, he’s woken up by her shaky figure standing next to his own tired form, pointing his gun at him. 

His softened bones feel mellow from the sleep and he lets out a sigh, rubbing at his sleepy eyes and shifts to sit on the couch cushions; teasingly lifting his hands up in surrender.

“Puppy’s got a gun, huh? Trying to be all tough now, are we?” There’s a lazy smile on his face. 

”I— I want you to…leave,” she says, voice rickety and words unsure. 

And he’s trying to take her serious, he really is, but it’s proving to be a little difficult since she resembles a scared little kitten more than someone who knows what they’re doing. 

”You want me to leave? Maybe you should work on your pitch, I’m not very convinced, you know?” The exasperating smirk plastered on his face makes her brows crease.

”Rafe, this is not a joke,” a scowl shades her face and he thinks she looks rather adorable. 

“Come on, Puppy. You’re not gonna shoot me. You don’t even know how to use that thing, do you?” His voice is even; she hesitates.

“Well, it can’t be that…complicated?” It’s more of a question than a statement and he really can’t keep the chuckle from bubbling out of his throat. Her frown deepens. 

“Why don’t you give it to me, yeah? You don’t want death on your conscience. Would break you, you’re too soft for that shit.” 

“You don’t— know me.”

“I know you enough,” he says, finally standing on his feet. He takes a slow step towards her and she squeezes the gun tighter in her trembling fingers. 

”If I give it to you, you’re gonna— you’re gonna…kill me. I don’t wanna die,” her words are hysterical, rushed. 

“Now who said anything about killing you? Look, if you give me the gun right now, I’m not gonna do anything. I give you my word, alright?” He’s towering over her, solid chest nearly grazing the barrel. 

“I don’t trust you,” her voice is a whisper. 

“I know, Pup. But I also know that you’re not gonna use that,” his steady hands are a contrast to her own precarious ones when he grabs for the firearm, slipping it from her weak fingers with ease.

“There we go, no need to be so fucking theatrical, yeah?” He lowers his head in order to lock his eyes with her frenzied ones.

“See? Not hurting you, am I?” 

She manages out a hum of agreement and then her waterline is brimming with water, salty droplets trickling down her cheeks as she chokes out a sob. “I’m sorry. I don’t—” 

“Hey, hey it’s all good. Mistakes happen, yeah?” He says and then his strong arms are wrapping around her trembling form because he’s not a complete monster and for some reason that makes her weep harder.

Her crocodile tears wet his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind, big paw rubbing against her back. And it’s almost…comforting, she thinks as he starts to sway her from side to side, like he’s trying to calm down a crying child. 

“There you go, just let it all out and maybe you can chill out a bit, yeah? You Pogues can be so fucking dramatic sometimes,” he pats at her back, rolling his eyes as she takes in shaky inhale after shaky inhale until she’s feeling slightly more placid. 

”Shit, if I’d known you were such a crybaby I would’ve picked another house,” he grumbles, pulling away from her weakened form, pushing her back to stumble on her feet; setting the gun back on the coffee table with a clank.

[successfulgoddess333]

MENTALLY JUST BE, PHYSICALLY JUST SLEEP

The 3D is a RESULT

If you assume something in the 4D(your mind) watch it unravel in your 3D

Why is this???

I’m gonna yell at you now

BECAUSE THE 3D IS CHANGEABLE AND IT IS SO BECAUSE OF THE FACT THAT IT IS A RESULT

The 3D is a result of assumption

The assumptions you created yourself subconsciously

Manifesting a new job is the same as manifesting

A billionaire status

Stop doubting something that’s so easy

Whether you manifest through The void or whatever other methods it is sooo easy

Quit victimizing and babying yourself and get it the fuck done

Ain’t nobody gonna do it for ya

It’s your life baby you write it design it however the heck you want it to be

I’m not one of those bloggers to be be like “it’s ok pookie if you fail🥹”

NO BITCH YOU CANNOT FAIL

THE VOID IS LITERALLY YOU

YOUR GORGEOUS SELF IS THE REASON WHY IT EXISTS AND YOU OVERCOMPLICATING IT FOR WHAT???

Ignore the 3D

It’s physical

The jeans you’re wearing right now or that hoodie

Is physical

You can change it up for you want

The 3D is that

It’s those jeans that hoodie those socks

Change it

If you don’t wanna wear it

THEN DONT

If you feel like you deserve better

ASSUME BETTER

LOOK IN THAT MF MIRROR AND TELL YOURSELF YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND YOU ALWAYS BEEN THAT BITCH NOBODY IS ABOVE YOU WE ALL FINE AS HELL

JEALOUSY FOR WHATTTTTT

BBY GIRL ITS ALWAYS BEEN YOU YOU ALWAYS BEEN THAT BITCH

YOU TOO PRETTY TO BE SAD YOU KNOW ABOUT THE VOID CUZ THE UNIVERSE SHOWED YOU YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE

ACT LIKE IT GIRL!!!!!!

THIS IS YOUR SIGN TO STOP READING AND GO GET THAT DREAM LIFE

LIKE TF YOU STILL READING FOR

TAKE YOU FINE ASS TO THE VOID AND GET WHAT YOU ALWAYS WANTED

WITH YOUR CUTE SELF😏

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH

BUT STOP SAYING “hoW dO EnTEr tHE vOiD?”

👁️👄👁️

Bitch you just did

YOU ALWAYS DOOOOOO

Jesus peanut butter Christ

Cmon y’all

yOu HavE alWayS dONe tHis!!!!

Every time you go to bed

You’re detaching from the 3D(physical reality)

To be in the 4D reality

All you’re doing is becoming aware of it

Oh my god

How hard is that?!!!!

You’re killing me babes😔✋🏾

Please for the love of jell-o

Understand how easy this shizzz is

Bruh

You’re in the 3D void rn

I know that probably doesn’t exist but hear me out

You’re so attached to this reality right

Every day you are aware that you’re here living in this physical world as a physical being

This is like our 3D version of the void state

It’s not actually the void

But it’s like our state of awareness

Just in this 3D world

We’re aware that we are physical

So to shift your awareness to the 4D simply just

Be aware

Just like you’re aware now

“BUtt hoW dO sTaY aWAkE?”

Who said you gotta be sleepy??

Bitch you could do it rn if you really want to

It’s dumb to think you gotta be tired at to enter the void

NOOOOO

You literally are mentally awake

Your BODY is asleep

So why should you??

It’s different if you wanna tap into it WHILE asleep

Like waking up in it

But you don’t need to be dead tired to do it y’all

Listen bitch

You will never make it if you don’t claim your power and go get it

Stop wasting time stop assuming you fail or it’s hard

YOU DA POWERFUL ONE BABE

Sugar baby it’s all in your hands

You’re the God of your reality

Go make your life the way you want it

Quit spending hours trying to find methods to something to you naturally do every night with NO method

When you go to sleep

You are in the state of just being

You’re just sleep

When you’re awake you’re in the state of awakened awareness

You’re just awake and aware

Soooo in the void mix those two together in the void

Mentally Just BE

Physical Just sleep

Omg my new motto

The key to the void state is

“MENTALLY JUST BE

PHYSICALLY JUST SLEEP”

That’s it

That’s all

And If your favorite celebrities can manifest so can you

[whitefeathers]

mdni.

cw: SOMNO, NON CON, daddy kink, size kink, mean!billy butcher, doggy/face down ass up. Billy basically takes u while you’re sleeping and you wake up to it … reader is into it but also butcher knows he’s being awful so …

Waking up in the middle of the night to a man in your bed, your ass arched up into the air - kept there by his strong hands pinning you down, his cock fucking you into place. He’s big and all you can feel is fullness and ache, being taken from behind in the middle of the night in your poor tiny cunt without proper preparation.

You can smell him. He smells like Prell shampoo, sweat, and cigarettes. His hands are the same thick hands you shyly watch around those said cigarettes. He’s aggressive and stern and his thrusts are as harsh as his grunts. You know exactly who is doing this to you.

“B-Billy?”

“Oh, we awake now, sleepin’ beauty?” Butcher grabs your hair in a fist, close to your scalp, and smushes your face into the pillow, shaking your head into it to keep you down and submissive. You whine, arching deeper.

“This hurt? This too rough for ya? Good.” His voice is gruff and comes out in pants, his hips working with an aggressive, self-serving rhythm. You’re still sleepy and out of it, as confused as you are fucked out, but he doesn’t care about your comfort or pleasure, ignoring your confused whimpers. This is for him.

Luckily enough, his dick is fat, and he’s smashing your poor g-spot to pieces in this angle. He doesn’t need to worry about your pleasure for his thrusts to fill you up and pound you just how you like.

Your pussy drools around him, making the slide wetter, stickier, messier. It’s fucking disgusting, filling the air with the smell of sex.

“Why? Wha- nngh, fuck, fuck- wha’s happenin’?”

“Rapin’ ya, sweetheart. Too fuckin’ good to resist,” he slows down for a second, watching the slow drag of his dick in and out of you, watching how your little hole stretches and drips around him forcing himself on you.

“I’m sorry baby, I know. Just shut up ‘n take it. Ya gonna let daddy have his fun, m’kay? Gonna be daddy’s dumb little cunt?”

You know you should shake your head no - he’s violating you, you can’t give in, even if deep down you rub your clit thinking about that exact word - daddy - coming from Butcher’s mouth.

You squirm but he just laughs at you and pins you down with a hand on your back, shoving you into the mattress deeper.

“Gonna play like that? Let’s fuckin’ play like that then, bitch,”

And he lets you fucking have it.

[hitomisuzuya]

Oh I’m exited, your requests are open✨

I really really love your writing, it makes my day!

Can I have a stepbrother Scara smut with their parents being out of town? Maybe with somnophilia?

Thank youuu🥰

Stepcest, DNI if it makes you uncomfortable. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Consensual Somnophilia. Cunnilingus.

Thank you so much, dear 🥺 It makes my day to know my writing makes someone's day😭❤️

Before the moms left for their business trip out of town, they asked Scaramouche to make sure he took care of you. He absolutely would. And how could he not when his sweet, darling stepsister doted on him so much shortly after they had left?

You'd come right into his lap when he patted it, grinding needily against him, and asking in the shyest voice if you could suck his cock. You'd looked so cute sliding from his lap onto your knees in front of him, kitten licking and sucking on the head. Your pretty eyes beckoning him to use your throat as he pleased, your tongue playing in his precum.

And you doted on him still, leaving your bedroom door open for him after you'd gone to bed.

Even sweeter of you to sleep in only your panties, having complained more than once about how it had been too hot outside lately. The timing of you sighing softly in your sleep, rolling over onto your back couldn't have been better as carefully crawled onto your bed.

Moving between your legs, he carefully moved your panties aside. Scaramouche had to swallow back a quiet groan as his tongue dipped between your folds. His tongue swirled around your clit, his hands caressing your hips as you stirred subconsciously in reaction to him.

Your body twitched, sleepy soft moans sounding from you. Were you dreaming about him now? He grinned into your pussy, latching his lips onto your clit. How sweet.

Scaramouche couldn't help but moan feeling your hand find the back of his head. You were reaching out to cling to him like you always did, even while you slept. He rutted into the mattress, moaning again as you pushed his mouth onto your pussy.

God you were so addicting. Damn it he wanted to make you moan his name while you slept. Such devotion to him to deserved to be rewarded. Your hips jerked slightly into his mouth as he plunged his tongue inside of you.

Scaramouche's cock pulsed harder hearing your soft whimper as he prodded his tongue on your clit, kitten licking it just to tease you before latching his lips around it suck again.

He held your pussy against his mouth, fast becoming drunk on the taste of you. As he fucked his tongue into your clenching hole, he suddenly had a selfish idea.

He knew he could make you cum in your sleep, but would plead more for him to cum inside you the next day if he took you so high in your dreams and denied you?

Scaramouche mulled it over for a few moments, casually sucking on your clit and playing with his tongue on it. It was an easy choice to make, giving your clit one final lick before pulling away.

After all, his way of taking care of his delicate stepsister was stuffing you full of his cum, until you were dumb and drooling. You would need the rest.

[corroded-hellfire]

Older Eddie freaking out when she tells him she’s pregnant. He gets worried he won’t be able to be there for them in ways he wants to and tries to run. But he sees the ultrasound picture and breaks down and goes back to his girl

Confused older!eddie, you still that dumb boy we all love

Words: 1k

I’m pregnant.

The words run through Eddie’s head again and again as he lies next to your sleeping form. The sound of your soft, slow breathing is the only noise in the trailer, but Eddie can hardly hear it over the beat of his pulse pounding in his ears. 

He’s glad you’re able to sleep because God knows he’s the farthest thing from sleepy. Pregnant. Eddie’s starting to think he can see the word scrawled across the shadowy ceiling he’s been staring at for the past three hours. 

You’ll be 52 when the kid is born, Munson, Eddie thinks to himself. Which means you’ll be 70 when he or she graduates high school. Well, at least 70 if the kid follows in my footsteps when it comes to education. Heaving a quiet sigh, Eddie tilts his head to the side to look at you. He watches the easy rise and fall of your shoulders with each gentle breath. 

There’s a sudden sense of panic climbing up Eddie’s chest and it feels like an iron hand clamps around his throat. You deserve so much more than this, he thinks. You deserve to have someone your own age, who can be there for you longer than I’ll be able to. 

Unable to bear the thought of you having to take care of your child and an aging Eddie, he pushes himself out of the bed and stalks out of the bedroom. 

2:02 am the neon green numbers on the microwave remind Eddie as he steps into the kitchen. He runs his hands through his salt and pepper curls and begins to pace back and forth in the small space. The two of you had never talked about having kids. Obviously, what was between you was serious and you were both in it for the long haul. Maybe one of you should’ve brought up the subject but it was too damn late now, Eddie mused. 

“Jesus,” Eddie says as he rests his hands on the back of a kitchen chair and hangs his head. “People are going to think I’m her dad and the baby’s fucking grandpa.”

The tightness in his chest returns tenfold as he imagines you calmly explaining to people their mistake, like you don’t mind it one bit. But Eddie knows it would bother you after a while and it would ignite embarrassment in him every single time. The same thoughts would spiral around his head that hadn’t been present since the two of you first started going out: she can do better; you’re too old for her; it’s selfish when you’re going to die at least twenty years before her. 

The shame is too much. Eddie’s nails dig into the wood of the chair as his jaw tightens. Before he can think better of it, he heads towards the front door, where his boots are settled next to. He shoves them on and doesn’t bother to tighten or tie the laces. The keys to his truck hang on the hook next to his leather jacket, but the sight of the jacket only reminds him that he isn’t wearing a shirt. 

“Fuck.” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. If he walks back into the bedroom to grab a shirt, he knows he’ll see you, sleeping there like the beautiful angel you are, and fall into your arms. But leaving is what’s best for you…isn’t it? “Get it together, Munson.”

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down as much as he can, Eddie remembers seeing a sweatshirt hanging on the chair next to the one he was leaning on in the kitchen. It’s an effort to walk across the floorboards of the trailer in such heavy boots without causing a piercing squeak, so Eddie practically tiptoes his way. Calloused fingers snag on the worn gray cotton of the sweatshirt and snatch it up. In his haste, the sleeve of material knocks a few pieces of mail onto the floor.

“Shit,” Eddie mutters. He bends down on creaky knees to pick up the envelopes that bear both your and his names. At the very bottom of the pile, there’s a thinner piece of paper that had gotten mixed in with the mail. 

A slightly trembling hand raises the grainy black-and-white picture to eye level. Even if the lightning weren’t so scarce, the moonlight shining through the window over the sink its only source, Eddie would need to squint to see the image clearly. The small fuzzy bean in the middle of the sonogram has Eddie falling back onto his ass, tears filling his eyes as he stares at the picture of his child. His baby. Your baby. 

Fat tears begin to roll down Eddie’s cheeks and he brings his free hand up to cover his mouth. How could he be so stupid? How could he even consider leaving? Leaving you? Leaving this innocent baby? No, he knows with complete certainty that would be the biggest mistake he’d ever make. So worried about the amount of time that he’d have with you that he was about to throw away the best thing that ever happened to him. And who’s to say someone younger would have more time with you? The next day isn’t promised for anyone, no matter the age.

Eddie puts the sonogram back on the table and is quick to scramble out of his boots, kicking them beneath the chairs to be dealt with in the morning. Both his leather jacket and sweatshirt get tossed on the couch in his haste out of the kitchen, into the hallway, and back down to your shared room. 

When he enters, you’re sleeping on your other side now, so he’s able to see your face. Letting his eyes roam over your beauty, more tears begin to fall. He roughly wipes off his cheeks with his rough palms before climbing into bed with you. Though you look so peaceful asleep and tucked in the blankets, Eddie can’t help but slide in as close to you as possible and wrap you up in his arms. A small, sleepy murmur tumbles from your lips as you snuggle up to your boyfriend.

“Everythin’ ‘kay, Eds?” you mumble as you lift your head and rest it on his bare chest.

Eddie nods as he holds you even tighter against his body. 

“Mhmm, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, a smile breaking through at the way you cling to him. “Everything’s great.”

[plutotheplum]

just a little something for zayne's birthday <3

cw: mild smut (mentions of sex, oral sex), fluff

“You said you would be by my side.”

You watch as Zayne yawns, his hand running through this messy hair. He gives you a sleepy smile, his eyes drooping slightly. You hadn’t meant to wake him, simply rolled out of bed and away from the warmth of his embrace to prepare his birthday breakfast.

“Not every second of the day,” you correct, giving him a smile as you wave the spatula at him.

You figured pancakes would be the safest choice, with some chocolate chips sprinkled into the batter to satisfy Zayne’s sweet tooth. 

“That won’t work,” he murmurs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he presses up against you from behind.

A soft sigh leaves you, head falling back against his shoulder. Zayne nuzzles into your cheek, his lips pressing a soft kiss onto your skin. You can feel him smile against your skin, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watches you flip the pancakes.

“Do you have anything else planned for me?” he asks, arms tightening around your waist.

“I’m afraid that would ruin the surprise,” you reply.

Zayne hums, and you stay silent, not wanting to spoil what you had planned for the rest of the day. His hands have begun to slip, squeezing at the fat of your thighs before smoothing up under the shirt of his that you’re wearing.

You’d been more than eager to wish Zayne a happy birthday last night, with one kiss turning into two and then three until he’d eventually lost his composure and picked you up and dumped you onto the bed. He’d fucked you dumb naturally, his lips ravenous and touch unrelenting as he had pounded into you, with low groans pouring into your ear. 

But Zayne was always gentle at heart. He’d held your hand after, fucked you again to make sure you knew that you were his, with your legs wrapped around his hips and words of praise leaving his lips as he’d taken you ever so sweetly, so gently. 

“The pancakes are going to burn,” he whispers, bringing you out of your thoughts as his fingers graze the underside of your breasts.

“Then you shouldn’t be trying to distract me,” you protest, trying to swat his wandering hands away, squeaking when you feel him pinch your nipples teasingly, “Dr. Zayne!”

“Back to being the doctor, hm?” Zayne sighs, acquiescing your request as his hands slip back down to pet at your sides affectionately. “I thought last night was enough to remind you of who I was to you.”

You roll your eyes, reaching behind you to push at his bare abdomen in an attempt to get him to unlatch from you. Zayne does no such thing, instead presses himself impossibly closer and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

“I love you,” he whispers, voice muffled.

Your heart warms at his sincere words, a smile spreading across your face, his affection making you feel giddy.

“I love you too,” you say in kind, turning off the stove as you finish the last batch of pancakes.

Zayne smiles and you turn in his arms, letting him lift you up onto the kitchen counter. You drag him closer, letting him step between your legs, arms wrapping around his neck to kiss him. Zayne lets out a low groan, his hands squeezing at your waist as he deepens the kiss, tugging you to the edge of the kitchen counter.

“I love you,” Zayne says, his lips drifting across your face, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

A laugh breaks out of you, hugging him to you as you rub your hands across his warm back soothingly.

“I love you too, Zayne. A whole lot, really… more than you could ever know.”

He kisses you again, soft and tender, nuzzles his nose against yours and sighs contentedly. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” he announces.

You scoff, pointing to the pile of pancakes that you’d made along with some fresh fruits you’d cut up earlier.

“You’re going to eat every last piece!”

“How unkind,” Zayne chastises, “isn’t it my birthday?”

You send him a playful glare, fingers grabbing for a strawberry before pressing it up against his lips. Zayne opens his mouth obediently, eats the strawberry and licks his lips. Your finger prods into his chest when he opens his mouth for more.

“Such a child,” you murmur, shaking your head, but you feed him all the same because Zayne is yours and you love him too much to deny him anything.

He carries you back to bed before long, buries his face into your chest and holds you close. You run your fingers through his soft hair, dropping little kisses to the crown of his head. Zayne moves soon, his body slinking down the bed as he spreads your thighs. You bite your lip, smiling at him as you caress his cheek, letting him hitch your legs over his shoulders as he pushes the shirt up to expose your panties.

“Isn’t ah- isn’t it your birthday?” you whisper, using his words and playing with his hair as he noses at your panties.

“It is,” Zayne says softly, pressing a kiss to the little bow on your panties. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more, love. I’ll always be yours… in every life.”

You smile hazily, utterly love-struck (you have been since you first met him). Zayne lowers his head and a satisfied sigh escapes you, thighs spreading open a little wider for him as he licks over the fabric of your panties.

Zayne’s mouth is always wonderful, knows exactly what you need all the time and you let yourself sink deeper, letting go of yourself completely for him.

It’s almost perfect, if not for the loud thud that sounds outside and the panicked slew whispered curses that manage to seep in through the walls of the villa. You scramble to sit up, flushing when you see a stunned Greyson standing just outside on the decking, the bag of hiking supplies spilt at his feet.

Ah. You’d forgotten about the little plan you’d made to go hiking. Zayne moves over you, tugging his shirt back down over your hips.

“I- you were late and- and Yvonne was impatient and so I-” Greyson begins to ramble and you wince. 

“We were getting ready,” Zayne says smoothly, sitting up as though nothing were wrong.

“With your face between her thighs?” Greyson blurts out, his cheeks flushing. 

“Sorry, Greyson” you say, shooting him an apologetic look, your own face beginning to heat up. “We’ll be ready in a moment.”

Greyson looks as though he wants to say more, his eyes darting before you both before he simply nods and walks briskly away, hiking supplies in tow. 

You groan, flopping back down onto the bed and bury your face into the pillows.

“That was horrible!”

Zayne lets out a low laugh, and you can feel him move, your brows furrowing when you lift your head and realize the room has gotten darker, the curtains pulled shut.

“Zayne?”

“I’m not in the mood for hiking,” Zayne responds, “there are other activities that provide the same amount of energy expenditure.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or to snap at him, letting him pull you closer, this time his fingers grasping your hips as he tugs you up onto your knees, ass in the air.

“I don’t think-”

You gasp when he grabs at the fat of your ass, his lips landing soft kisses to the cheeks of your ass before your panties come off for good and his face delves between your thighs.

“Z- Zayne,” you drag out his name whiningly, fingers grabbing at the sheets as you drool into the pillows.

“My perfect girl,” he whispers into the heat of your cunt, “pretty, little love.”

“I love you!” you wail, heart lurching and hips swaying back.

Zayne groans at your declaration, his tongue working faster as he slips two fingers into you. 

So much for hiking.

[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. 

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