#wasted in giving him MORE trauma

[erenfox]

Ok, hot take, but I genuinely don't ship Nico with anyone. Like, seriously, no one. Neither Percy, nor Will, nor Jason, not Leo. And if you think I ship him with some girl, I DON'T. What girl not related to Nico by family was actually close to him other than Reyna? And Reynico shippers just scare me lmao.

Idk maybe it's just because I personally never saw any awkward-teenage-romance type of conversations or internal monologue of Nico in any of the books regarding any of the boys whatsoever. I kid you not, I seriously thought (and still think) that Rick had never intended for Nico to like Percy during PJO and the first half of HoO. I feel like it's just something he made up while writing the Cupid scene to make it more, well, dramatic. As an author myself, I know exactly how it feels when ur writing ur manuscript and a brilliant idea related to that particular scene pops up, which leaves u wondering how to make it make sense with the rest of the story. And since there are speculations that Rick has ghostwriters, it seems a lot more suspicious about how we had not a single hint of Nico liking Percy anywhere before the Cupid scene.

I'm not gonna go into Solangelo, but I must say, Will is a pretty bland character. Solangelo has potential, I still think so, but Rick wasted basically all of it by trying to make Solangelo a cheap copy of Percabeth. He knows Solangelo is the second most popular ship among his fandom, so why not make it exactly like his all-time most popular ship? Because, come on, what good would it be to have a, idk, unique ship?

#nico di angelo #anti solangelo #solangelo hate #anti percico #anti pernico #anti nicercy #anti valdangelo #anti jasico #it's just wasted potential #nico could have been good with all these boys but it got wasted #wasted in giving him MORE trauma #like #leave the kid alone #give him actual good romance #his relationship with hazel and reyna is beautiful #but trash with any of the boys #sigh #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo #toa #trials of apollo #anti tsats

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

I mean I'm not goin back to him I'm not(!!!) but at this point I got no idea why

Literally just screaming into the fucking void

He already broke me to the point where all the shit he's said are my only core beliefs n even if I try to shut down the voice in my head repeatin it all I still believe every damn word

So no matter how long I cut him off for it's always there just the same. But no one else can always be there to make it go away. W/ him I at least go from a total waste of oxygen to the one thing I'll ever be any good for. It's an upgrade I can almost live with.

So what's the point? What do I or anyone gain from me stayin away?

I've been tryin so fucking hard n it's just not getting any easier. I don't know where to put all this fucking self loathing, I can't keep pouring it onto other people. I always need to keep so damn much inside n some of it still spills out n that's already bordering on too much. I don't wanna be a burden. I know everyone is, to some extent, but not like this. Not all the time. Plus they have something to give in return, I only have things no one else wants, just Val's happy to take em if offered.

I still feel the pull all the fucking time. It's like the chain he used to have around my neck but I know he's not doin the pulling, he doesn't care if he has me or not anymore. It's all me now. I'm the one who keeps wanting to go back. The rational part of me is screaming no cause I know he'll just hurt me n find new ways to cut even deeper but. What's left that he hasn't already done?

Maybe this time he'll make the feelings n the noise go away. Maybe this time he'll make it all quiet.

#i know i can't expect anyone else to save me that's something i'm supposed to do myself but #what if i can't? i don't know how to #best i've managed is a somewhat stable daily life but that relies on practically zero triggers n i don't actually get anything done ever #there's no progress. none. it's just me drowning out the noise w/ distractions n booze #everyone i see struggling w/ this shit that's made actual progress has made it w/ the type of healing experiences i can't seem to find #n cause it's all just pseudomemories n shit we can't really even unpack it in therapy cause it doesn't rly get to the real causes #it's always just 'have you had experiences in real life where someone made you feel like this?' #i don't know!! we don't have our actual trauma memories!!! #i just. i wish i didn't need so goddamn much more than what's reasonable to ask of anyone. #i wish i wasn't wired so completely fucking wrong i can't have those needs met #i wish i wasn't so fucking worthless. only ever barely keepin my head above water. #i tried to list any skills/positive traits/things i like about myself n the only thing i could come up w/ is i give great head #n i guess the way i'll let you act out any fucked up fantasy on me if you don't mind that i cry or dissociate #but i don't have anythin else to give. my body's all i have to offer n it's not even a very good one anymore #i still wish someone would use it. make me feel like i still have a use. give me some way to make up for even fucking existing #i guess i was doin some good back when i still let val take all his aggressions out on me so he had an outlet aside from doll #i'd be ok w/ him just usin me but he's always so fucking cruel about it. #i really really really wanna cut but he'd be so fucking angry i'm scared of what he'd do #i just. can't someone just fucking use me. do whatever you want to my body n tell me i'm not a waste of space cause i make you feel good #tell me i'm a good boy #spdrvent

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley

[lovebugism]

Imagine rough sex with eds and you guys just break the bed and you have to tell wayne

✶ ┄ BROKEN BEDS !

summary: you and eddie break his bed. the worst part is having to tell wayne. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader warning: smut! eddie being the cutest human alive! a wild appearance from uncle wayne! 18+ mdni! a/n: i need everyone to know that when i wrote this draft, i titled it "breaking bed" and it made me chuckle a lil. anyway, thanks for your request anon! enjoy xoxo

( MASTERLIST )

when eddie muson fucks, he fucks like a wild animal

he grunts with each of his rough thrusts, brown eyes somehow darker with lust while his untamed curls cling to his sweaty forehead

and you just let him drill into you because, truth be told, you love him this way

you hold the backs of your thighs and keep yourself wide open for him while he fucks so deeply into you

he leans over you, one hand white-knuckled where it grips his headboard, and the other wrapped around your throat

not tight enough to choke you exactly, but to make sure your eyes stay locked on his as he fucks you for all your worth

the headboard slams into the wall in time with each of his thrusts, rhythmic bang bang bangs that you’d be scared are leaving a dent in the wall if eddie wasn’t making you feel so good

he tilts your jaw to the side to expose your neck to him

and he hides his face in the sweaty crook of it, seeking refuge there while he nips and suckles at the warmed skin

you just keep begging for him to go harder and deeper and faster as he fucks you more and more stupid

and eddie complies without question

he revels in the way you keen each time he pounds into you and how your face scrunches up and your back arches for him

your toes curl and your legs tense up so hard they start to quiver

and right when you’re about to come, the bed suddenly jolts and dips beneath you, accompanied by loud crashing sound

it scares the shit out of you and you squeal while eddie lets out a grunt of surprise

because his bed just fucking broke

and it isn’t the most surprising thing in the world, the thing is about as old as he is

but it does take the two of you off guard 

all you can do in the moment is laugh about it

and eddie barely wastes another second before he starts fucking you again

because his bed is already broken, who cares if it gets more fucked up?

plus he knew how close you were to your orgasm and you just look so pretty when you come <3

the worst part about it though is telling wayne

because there’s no way he’s not going to notice

and eddie can’t exactly sleep on a crooked bed

so he just comes up with the shittiest excuse known to man “so the thing is... i was… jumping on the bed…”

wayne furrows his brows “the hell were you doing jumping on your bed?”

“well, you see, i was just, you know… trying to… heal my inner child…”

“…what the fuck does that mean?”

but, like, obviously wayne knows

typically you’re good at keeping eddie in check and sometimes he can hear you saying you don’t want to fuck while wayne’s in the house

and that’s a part of the reason he likes you so much bc you don’t want to put him through that trauma

but you guys are young and in love and sometimes keeping your hands off of each other feels like the hardest thing in the world

so he knows exactly how the bed broke

but hearing eddie trying to lie about it is the funniest thing on the planet

shopping for a new bed frame is easily the most adult thing you and eddie have ever done

and the only one he can afford is a star wars themed one in the children’s section

eddie groans and acts annoyed about having to get one that’s so childish but you know he secretly loves it

because the headboard is shaped like the cock pit of the millennium falcon with lightsabers painted on the foot of the bed

you try to put it together without wayne’s help while he’s at work

and you’re like “how long do you give it before we break this one?”

“an hour if you wine and dine me first <3”

have any blurb requests? send em here if you want!

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #st headcanons #eddie spaghetti hc

[callsign-songbird]

This was supposed to be a short rambling and ended up turning into a mini fic lol. I know the tense shifts, I know it's sloppy lol

Anyway, Simon has a sweetheart who gets kidnapped and gets to meet "Ghost" for the first time.

The first time you meet Ghost, it's supposed to be carefully planned and controlled. After all, Simon was so worried about opening that part of himself up to you. To you, he was Simon. Soft, introverted, sweet, desperately trying to break a cycle of generational trauma. You had never met Ghost.

But, of course, nothing in Simon's life can go according to plan, and when you have people that mean something to you, they become weaknesses. So, when you get kidnapped by a Russian military company with the intel that you were important to Task Force-141? Ghost has already burnt down the world once, you're sure as hell that he would do it again for his love. So, when you meet Ghost, it isn't carefully rehersed and planned like Simon wanted. No.

Instead, you're terrified, bound, and gagged on a cold concrete floor wearing little more than your skivvies as tears stream down your face. Then, out of the blue, gunfire and shouting rings through the halls. Stealth be damned, as soon as their cover is blown, you know that Ghost will fight like a rabbit animal. He barges into your cell, tackling a man against the wall with a knife to his throat and a gun at his head.

Those eyes that had looked at you so softly and tenderly were completely unrecognizable when they were this wide and intense, wild with bloodlust. "Where is the girl?" He spits out in fluent Russian before his eyes catch sight of you.

'BANG'

A single bullet through the soldiers' skull, splattering Ghost with even more viscera and gray matter. Ghost doesn't even seem phased as he holsters his pistol and pulls away, letting the body drop with a sickening thud. He walks brazenly up to you, but pauses as he notices the way you frantically back yourself into the corner, trying desperately to stay away from this monster who had surely come to drag you from one hell to the next.

Then, he crouches down and outstretches a gentle hand to you, letting you come to him. He called your name so sweetly, and that was a voice you recognized. You tried to muffle out his name through the rag shoved into your mouth and tied around your head. That earned a low chuckle, a dangerous one that you hadn't heard before. "Not quite, love. Ghost. Now, let's get you home, eh?"

Ghost. The name echoed in your mind, bouncing around as you tried to remember where you had heard it before. Your eyes flicked over to the corpse splayed in the doorway of your cell, making you nearly vomit in your mouth before looking away. Ghost shifted closer, using the knife still in his hand to cut through the rough ropes binding you. "Bloody hell... idiots didn't even use chains, could have escaped right easy, you could of." Ghost muttered, mostly to himself. The words were terrifying to hear.

He reached to untie your gag next, a chuckle rumbling lowly in his chest as you flinch away. He gives you half a second to compose yourself before he unceremoniously rips the gag off of you and tosses it to the side. Red marks are etched into your cheeks where the gag had dug in, and the sight makes Ghost seeth. "Oh, love..." His words are soft, but his tone is enraged, as if those marks alone could start his new crusade.

"LT!" Blue eyes and a neatly groomed Warhawk pop into the door, stepping casually over the corpse as the new face made his way over to you. "This her, LT?" A thick Scottish accent was present, along with a bit of thinly veiled appreciation. "Off limits Johnny, this is her. This is my girl."

Whenever Simon called you his, it was soft and reverent, as if astonished that he could call someone so precious his. But when Ghost said it? It was commanding, possessive, and left no room for argument. You were his. And that thought was almost scary.

Ghost wasted no more time, scooping you up into his arms and making their way quickly through the facility you had only caught glances of while Ghost and Johnny talked in some military jargon you didn't understand.

That's when you noticed it.

Even though Ghost was holding you so tight and close, even though his touches seemed so rough and careless, even though he was splattered with all sorts of blood and viscera, you had none of it on you. Ghost had been so careful with his touches, with how he held you, determined not to stain and taint your delicate skin with the fuel to his fire, the essence of his soul. And that was quite possibly when you realized that 'Simon' and 'Ghost' were merely two sides of the same coin. And they were both yours as much as you were theirs. his.

#call of duty #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #x you #imagine #ramblings #drabble #i just think hes neat #lil split personality #lil unhealthy coping mechanism #lil skull boy #he's careful #because you're fragile #to him at least #Anyone played the “Call Of Thirst” Demo? #it's super short #but omg #support

[lizzieheartsfanclub]

The most effective thing about Ever After High is that every student has their own personal struggle that adds another element to just how life-ruining the destiny system is.

Apple is so terrified of what will happen to her if she doesn’t follow her destiny, that she is willing to compromise everyone else’s happiness to make sure it happens. This disregard for other people is only encouraged by the influential adults in her life.

Ashlynn has to be a servant to an abusive family and live knowing that the ultimate end to her supposedly happy ending is dying to set the stage for her daughters traumatic backstory, starting the whole cycle over again with no chance for any of them to escape.

Blondie feels so pressured to fit in to a deeply classist/monarchist society and ashamed of her parentage that she constantly presents a fake version of herself to everyone she knows, even her best friends.

Briar has to spend her whole life waiting for the moment her destiny comes and she falls asleep for a century. She knows that when she’s woken up, she will be forced to marry a boy dozens of years younger than her who she’s never met and live knowing that everyone she ever loved is dead and gone, the very things that she watched cause her mother’s emotional breakdown.

Cedar’s father was so afraid of watching her repeat his mistakes that he overcorrected, making it impossible for her to ever learn lessons for herself. She is also forced to share incredibly personal details with anyone who asks her questions, and can’t be trusted by her friends with any of their secrets, and it’s all because of her father’s past trauma.

Cerise has to hide who she truly is and never gets to see her family together and happy despite the fact that her parents have potentially the most healthy and mutually beneficial marriage in the whole franchise.

Daring was groomed from birth for a destiny that ends up not actually being his at all, leaving him aimless, feeling as though he has no purpose and has wasted his entire life.

Darling is forbidden by patriarchy and destiny to become a knight, the only thing she really wants, and at which she would be better than both of her brothers. She has to hide who she is and what she loves from everyone she knows

Dexter lived his whole life never knowing what his destiny would be but also knowing that whatever it was he’d have to commit to it forever the moment he discovered it at Legacy Day.

Duchess has spent her whole life knowing that the story she’s commited to living out ends in tragedy for her, and then had to watch the very people she’s been jealous of for years because of their seemingly happy endings give up those endings, while Duchess, loyal and rule following Duchess, is still stuck with her tragedy.

Faybelle tries so hard to commit to what she sees at her destiny that she’s never had a real friend in her life. Even still, no one recognizes her for all that effort and all she’s given up to be a suitable villain. Everyone is more afraid of Raven, who doesn’t even want to be evil.

Hunter has to constantly go against his moral compass to fulfill his destined role as a Huntsman and to try and make his father proud of him.

Kitty has been taught over and over again to value her Mother’s approval over all else, even at the expense of her friends. Her destiny is to create mischief, but how much more mischief can a dissolving world take before it’s too much?

Lizzie finds it almost impossible to express love or care for anyone else due to her mothers excessive conditioning that’s nearly akin to brainwashing. The saddest thing might be that her mother is actually, in her own way, trying her best to prepare Lizzie for a world that will only ever see her one way—as a villain. Now she lives in Ever After, princess to a kingdom that might not even exist for much longer, having given up everything for a destiny that may soon be impossible.

Maddie is a refugee forced from her home into a world she barely understands at a tender age. But she cannot express any angst or negative feelings about this circumstance, because to do so would go against her character. She lives in a world obsessed with destiny and stories while not even knowing if she’ll ever be able to return home and live out her story.

Raven is judged by almost everyone around her for her mothers crimes, many of which were required of her by destiny in the first place. She is nearly forced to commit to becoming a tyrannical megalomaniac (and almost falls into it herself, several times) who would be sentenced to lifelong punishment and torture for committing acts that weren’t even her idea in the first place, and the one punishing her would have been the very girl who begged so often for her to stop being so difficult and just follow her destiny.

#ever after high #eah #cartoon #cartoons #mattel #apple white #ashlynn ella #blondie lockes #briar beauty #cedar wood #cerise hood #darling charming #dexter charming #daring charming #duchess swan #faybelle thorn #hunter huntsman #kitty cheshire #lizzie hearts #madeline hatter #raven queen

[toshidou]

lighthouse for a lost comrade . . .

Pairing // Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word count // 4.9k

Tags // 18+ ONLY, AFAB reader, soft simon riley, written from simon's perspective, mild descriptions of injury and blood, hurt and comfort, aka simon finally allows himself to be looked after <3, he is a big boy with a heart that yearns to be loved you cannot convince me otherwise, the softest of smut, praise, you accidentally give ghost a 'sir' kink, reader calls ghost sir a couple of times because they're hot like that, unprotected sex (tut tut), creampie, a whole lot of swearing

AN // i love this man a ridiculous amount, so me writing nearly 5k about how much i love him was inevitable

AO3 link here

Simon Riley is not a man who cares about his own health. In fact, his wellbeing never has, and never will be a priority to him. He has work to do, gruelling, gritty, gruesome work, it is beyond pointless wasting time even thinking about when he last had more than 3 hours sleep, or how long it’s been since he consumed anything other than cold military rations. In his defence, he’s never really had a reason to give a shit, he sees the hourglass whenever he allows himself to close his eyes; watches the sand slip rapidly through the cracks, counting down until his inevitable, most likely painful death. He’s living life on a timer, and he’s never had a reason to change that.

Until he met you.

You were a wide-eyed rookie, Laswell bringing you into the fold as a technician, a skilled hacker and mechanic who despite your innocent doe eyes, held lethal talents. He remembers so vividly, the way your head had cocked to the side as Laswell introduced you to the peculiar members of task force 141, remembers the way your eyes stopped on him. You showed not a single ounce of fear or hesitance, just pure unbridled curiosity. That same curiosity led you to asking him far too many questions, relentlessly prying to see more of the man behind the mask, to see Simon Riley, rather than ‘Ghost’. It should have pissed him off, he should have reprimanded you for your callousness towards your Lieutenant, but somehow you knew exactly which questions to ask, knew exactly when to stop and move on to other subjects.

Contrary to popular belief, Simon doesn’t hide his past, doesn’t try to use it to fuel the mysterious and mythical reputation he’s unwittingly built. It’s just that no one ever asks. Maybe it’s something about the skull mask, or the egregiously high kill count he sits so casually on top of that has people wary of ever approaching him. But you—you had no hesitation. You read him like a goddamn book every single time, and it simultaneously terrified and relieved him.

One glance and every secret he shoved behind his balaclava is left bare before you, leaving him with a vulnerable, gaping wound in the shape of a lifetime of trauma and tales that Simon knows no person should ever have to experience. And yet, your eyes hold not an ounce of pity, no awkward silences attempting to be alleviated with an awkward pat on the back and a “that sounds rough, buddy”. You see his past, his pain, his suffering, his bad habits, without him ever having to explicitly say anything. And in return, you say nothing. You don’t try and mollify him about circumstances he’s moved on from long ago, you make no effort to coddle him, to sit him down and patronisingly ask him if he’s doing well, or when the last time he slept was.

Instead, you leave him cutely packaged leftovers on his doorstep, easy meals he can throw in the microwave when he’s too tired to even comprehend making food. You buy him a multitude of jigsaws and puzzles for when sleep evades him as it so often does. You never once try to change him, never force yourself into his life just so you can claim that you’re some selfless martyr. To Simon Riley, you are nothing short of a blessing, and falling in love with you was quite frankly the easiest thing he’s ever done.

He takes off the mask for the first time when neither of you were prepared, nor expecting it. The mission had been so fucking rough, camped out in the middle of nowhere on the hunt for someone he was sure had long since gone. Weeks spent trudging through thick mud, swimming upriver, tracking footprints that led nowhere, steered them to no one. His bone-deep exhaustion finally caught up with him after being shot in the leg and falling nearly 75 metres off of a cliff, plunging into the water below. Price had insisted he go straight to the medic tent back at basecamp, but then simply sighed and shook his head, resigned, as he watched Simon limp off the chopper, and in the exact opposite direction.

To most, this would be the latest example of Simon Riley once again disregarding his health for the sake of keeping up the stoic, strong mask he never let slip. Yet this time, Simon Riley was not disregarding his health, he was, for maybe the first time, trying to preserve what little of it he had left. His leg was near numb by the time he made it to your tent, his foggy mind quickly soothed by the sound of you humming along to the radio, accompanied by the rapid clicking of keys as you worked on some coding. It takes him hissing in discomfort as he attempts to remove his military boots for you to turn around, eyes going impossibly wide as you watch an alarmingly large pool of red grow at his feet.

“Jesus Christ Ghost, are you trying to redecorate my floor?” He kept his mouth shut, using the last dregs of his energy to keep his gaze pinned on you, dark brown irises following your every move as you usher him into the chair you occupied merely seconds before, gingerly hovering your hands over the drenched material that clings to his thigh, soaked in blood and water.

“I’m going to cut the material above the wound, okay? I need to see what I’m working with here.” Your eyes connect with his unwavering gaze, translating his silence into a language that has taken you an eerily short period of time to become fluent in. He watches you nod to yourself, can pinpoint the cogs turning in your mind, can practically see you write the list of how best to deal with this situation as you unpack your first aid kit. Somehow, despite his leg stinging like a bitch, despite how utterly worn he feels, so raw and rough around the edges, he feels at peace.

Price may think he was a stupid bastard for not seeing one of their trained medics, but Simon knows without a doubt that you will always be the best thing for him, you will always be the first port of call, the lighthouse that guides him oh so safely to shore, to home. Even when your stitches are a little uneven, even when you dab a little too much alcohol disinfectant onto his wound, even when you wince every time the muscle in his leg twitches involuntarily, he watches you pour every ounce of care and tenderness into every touch, watches you take care of him in a way no one else ever could, not that he’d let them.

You’re finishing off wrapping up the wound on his thigh when Simon realises he doesn’t want this moment to be over. He selfishly craves more of your delicate, gentle care, unsure if he could ever have this again after tonight, if he deserved it.

So, he waits. He waits for you to lean back on your haunches, bending back to check your handiwork with a satisfied smile tugging at your pretty lips. He waits for your eyes to drift to his, as they so often do, and then he speaks.

“I uh, I got hurt here too,” The words grate against his throat like sandpaper, rough and unsure as he lifts his hand to prod at his cheek, “think I hit a rock in the water after falling.” You stand immediately, eyebrows furrowed together as your fingers gently brush the small rip in his mask.

“I can’t see much with this in the way, Ghost, though I think you’ll live.”

Simon couldn't pinpoint exactly what had his fingers hooking under his mask, couldn’t single it down to any particular moment or word that had him pulling the black material over his chin, and up past his nose, he just knew it felt right. All he focused on was the way your lips fell agape, how your hands lifted automatically towards his wrists, whether to stop them or encourage them further he didn’t know, but he sure as fuck clocked the slight tilt to your head, taking him immediately back to when you first laid eyes on him.

You were looking at Simon in a way he can’t say he’s ever experienced. Like a complicated mixture of guilt and awe. But he feels no fear, no regret as he throws the skull balaclava unceremoniously onto the floor, and directly into the pool of blood he’d left by the door.

“Should be a little easier to see now, don’t you think?”

All he gets in return is a small huff of a laugh, the ghost of your breath fanning across his exposed face, he swears he’s never felt anything as sweet. That is until your hand comes to cup his face, shudders erupting down his spine when the pads of your impossibly soft fingers brush just under the superficial cut on his cheek.

“I don’t know Si, I think we might have to amputate.” You murmur, an overly dramatic lilt to your voice as you pretend to further examine the ‘wound’. And Jesus fucking Christ, if he isn’t so impossibly, incredibly fond of you.

“That bad, huh doc?” He leans forward, just enough to catch the way your pupils dilate, the slight hitch to your usually even breath, “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do to save it? I’m particularly fond of that cheek.” He drinks in the soft hum you give in response, watches you with rapt attention as you lean further forward, and nearly passes the fuck out when you press your lips to his upper cheekbone, because what the fuck.

Before this, Simon Riley could say with absolute certainty that he’d never once blushed in his life, but now? He could feel the blood rushing to his face, knowing without a doubt that you could feel the heat radiating from where your fingers and lips remain connected to his skin. His wide eyes, blackened around the sockets from a mixture of paint and week-long exhaustion, remain firmly fixed on you, hardly hesitating before he secures your hand against his face the second he feels you pulling away.

There are no words exchanged, nothing but shallow breaths and searching eyes before Simon allows himself to be selfish just this once and pulls you onto his uninjured thigh, guiding you to sit with his other hand, fingers digging ever so slightly into the meat of your hip. And now he has you here, right where he’s always wanted you, there’s not a chance in hell he’s ever letting you go.

“Please kiss me, Simon.”

As if he could ever say no to you.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He removes his hand from your wrist, dragging his scarred knuckles as delicately as he possibly can across your cheek, fanning out his fingers around the side of your face, using the leverage to guide you impossibly closer. He allows himself one last look, tracing his gaze from your lidded eyes to your lips before he lets his eyelids fall shut, and loses himself in you. Loses every ounce of tension and exhaustion under the ministrations of your fingers as they tangle into his hair, and finally, fucking finally, he feels his once cold, dead heart thrum to life as you sigh contentedly against his lips. Kiss of life in-fucking-deed.

He's lost in every inch of you, can’t get over how soft and warm the plush of your waist is under his fingers, how responsive you are when he slides his hand ever so slightly under your oversized t-shirt. He wants more, he needs more, can’t help himself as he moves his kisses from your lips, down your jaw, until he reaches the base of your throat, sucking deep purple bruises into your supple skin.

“You taste like heaven,” He’s all too aware of how raspy his voice has become, desire only deepening his tone further as he drags his lips back up the expanse of your throat, a deep groan pulled from his throat when he feels you shift on his lap, highlighting the growing pressure of his cock straining against his pants. “Driving me fuckin’ wild already. Look what you’ve done to me, gorgeous.” His fingers come to curl under your jaw, directing your gaze down to the prominent tenting of his trousers, ensuring his eyes don’t dare drift away from your face as he watches you take in the view before you.

“Mine.”

The noise Simon makes in response is nothing short of primal, it wasn’t a sound he was even aware he could make, near guttural, but of course you would be the one to pull it out of him.

“That’s right baby, all yours, fucking hell,” he’s powerless to stop his eyes squeezing shut when he feels your fingers curl around his clothed cock, mustering every ounce of strength he has left not to cum in his pants there and then, because he’ll be fucking damned if he lets anything get in the way of giving you the pleasure you deserve.

“Come on Si, look at me.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath before he finally opens his eyes again, instantly zeroing in on your fingers as they begin to unfasten his pants, before flicking back up to meet your gaze, “Is this okay?”, your voice tentative.

“More than okay, Jesus,” Simon wastes little time after that, hands sliding under your shirt and shifting further up your torso, muscles freezing when his hand contacts nothing but bare skin, grazing the flesh of your breasts.

“No bra? Lucky me.” You laugh, arching your back further into his touch.

“More like lucky me, those things are basically torture devices, Simon, I’d like to see you try and work with metal wire and straps digging into your boobs and back,” He grins, pinching one of your nipples between two of his calloused fingers and revelling in the way your smirk twists into a moan, hips twitching against the rough material of his cargo pants.

“I think it’s about time you took these off,” He mutters, one hand dropping to thumb under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Can’t tell you the number of times I’ve thought about how pretty you’d look getting yourself off on my lap.” Apparently, Simon doesn’t need to say anymore, watching with intense eyes as you pull away from his grip, and begin undressing. Your top joins his mask on the floor, soon followed by your pants and underwear until you’re stood in all your naked glory, mere inches away from him. Simon must be the luckiest son of a bitch on this entire fucking planet.

He takes advantage of your absence by lifting his hips, cocking an eyebrow at you as he gestures towards his trousers, “Give an injured soldier a hand, would you doll?” Truthfully, Simon knows he would have no issues removing them himself, but why would he do that when he can have this instead? When he can have your body pressed in between his thighs, your deft hands undoing his buttons and sliding the material of his military pants slowly over his wrapped-up leg, when he can watch your eyes drink in every inch of new skin revealed with barely contained desire. No, he would much rather have this, especially when your dainty hands peel away his boxers, leaving him only in his top and vest plate.

“Simon…” You whine, your lips so perfectly pouted, a cute little furrow between your brows as you pull and tug at various parts of his vest, “help me take this shit off. It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked here.” He hums, schools his face to show careful contemplation, reaching up a hand to rest on your bare upper thigh.

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?”

“Please, sir.”

Well fuck. That awakened something within him.

With military precision, he unsecured the armoured vest from his body, wasting no time in pulling his shirt over his head, joining the now large pile of clothes left scattered across the floor of your tent. For a brief second, Simon feels so incredibly vulnerable under your intense gaze, wondering if maybe this is how people feel when he fixes his stare upon them, bare and defenceless. But then you lower yourself back into his lap, settling across both his legs with such gentle care, wrapping both your arms around the back of his head and pinning him with a look he thinks most likely reflects his own.

“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” It’s almost too much, the sincerity in your voice mixed with the way the words were uttered so softly into the air, as though they were a secret only to be shared between the two of you.

“I’m nothing compared to you.” You shake your head, smiling, leaning forward until your nose brushes his.

“Just take the compliment, Lieutenant.” He tries his best not to shiver as he feels your hand trace down his spine, instead shifts his focus onto how close your lips are to his, or the quiet noise you make in the back of your throat as his hands come to grip the meat of your thighs.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Something in the air changes, as though the collective patience between the two of you could stretch no further, so taut it had no choice but to snap. His lips crash into yours, desperation surging through Simon’s veins like wildfire. Fuck, what are you doing to him?

“Can I touch you?” he mumbles against your lips, large hands aching from where they rest, yearning the feeling of your wet heat against his fingertips.

“God, yes, please.”

With newfound strength, he lifts you from his lap and twists you until your back is flush to his chest, uncaring of the twinge of pain he feels from his leg as he settles you fully on his lap. Now, Simon has full access to every inch of your perfect body, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck as he litters the skin with open mouthed kisses, humming contentedly at the way you arch into his hands as he cups your breasts with both hands, fingers toying with your nipples until they’re perked and firm under his touch.

“No teasing, please,” Your pleading breaks him from a momentary stupor, bringing his head up to watch as you place one of your hands over his, guiding it further down, sweeping over your sternum, past your belly button, until his palm rests over your cunt, “I need you here, Simon.”

Fucking hell.

He couldn't find the words, couldn’t articulate them even if he had any. So, instead of speaking, he presses his hand over the curve of your cunt, groans when he feels just how hot and wet you are, all for him.

“Mine.” He repeats your words from earlier into the shell of your ear, a smirk stretching onto his lips at the full body shiver you give in response, growing near predatory when he feels your pussy twitch under his hand. God, how the fuck are you so wet? His fingers glide over your folds with ease, teasing your clit on every upwards swipe of his fingers, and when he finally dips his index finger into your cunt, he’s rewarded with the sweetest symphony. Breathy whines and whispered pleas of “more”, “deeper, Simon, please”, every request he happily indulges, now curling two fingers against your velvet walls, searching for the spot he knows will have you keening against his body. It takes a shift of his palm, the angle changing just enough to have you choking on a gasp, his other hand remains fixed to your breasts, pushing your chest down until you’re pinned against his body.

“Atta girl, feels good huh?” He slips a third digit in, cursing under his breath as he feels your pussy clamp down, twitching helplessly around his fingers as they continue to stroke relentlessly at your g-spot, “Gonna need you to cum at least once on my fingers before I give you anything else, baby.” He dares to steal a glance at your face, and is met with closed eyes, your mouth agape, and head thrown back onto his shoulder, you’re nothing short of a masterpiece. Your hands desperately grip onto his arms, nails digging sweet red crescents into Simon’s inked skin, as though the hold you have on him is the only thing keeping you grounded, and he feels positively fucking drunk on it.

You’re close, that much he can tell, and as much as he could absolutely keep you like this on his lap for another good few hours, he takes pity on your furrowed eyebrows and soft whimpers, removing his hand from your chest and placing his thumb into your open mouth. He doesn’t even need to instruct you as you close your lips around his digit and suck, your tongue eagerly lapping at the rough pad of his finger. He doesn’t have the strength to leave it there for much longer, overly aware of the way his cock desperately twitches from where it’s trapped between your bodies, instead focusing on the way you react the second his spit slicked thumb begins to rub tight circles around your clit.

“Si-, fuck, Simon ‘m close, so close, wanna cum,” There was never any other option for him than to watch you fall apart on his lap, but if he somehow needed further encouragement, “Please Sir, please make me cum.” It would be entirely impossible for him to stop the moan your words drag from his throat, to think of anything other than giving you your release. It’s obvious when your orgasm hits, having to stop toying with your now engorged clit to instead pin your hips down, worried there was a chance you might fall to the side if he didn’t keep you grounded.

“Good girl, such a good fucking girl, made such a mess of my fingers baby,” Simon hums against the side of your head, slowing his ministrations until he’s lazily fingering your still spasming pussy, drawing out the sweet sounds of post-orgasm sensitivity from your spit-shining lips. He waits until you finally regain some form of lucidity, waits until your neck straightens, no longer lolled against his collarbone to finally withdraw his fingers, soothing your whines at his absence with kisses to your jaw. But he makes sure your eyes are locked with his when he brings his fingers to his own lips, ensures you’re watching with nothing less than rapt attention as he cleans every drop of your arousal from his skin.

“Taste fuckin’ divine, princess.” Your head tips forward into your hands with a groan, and Simon couldn’t hide his pleased grin even if he tried.

“You’re not allowed to be this hot,” Your words muffled into your palm, the Ghost’s heart rate spiking when you looked at him shyly through your fingers, affection surging through his bloodstream like a shot of pure adrenaline. “Especially when I can feel your cock pressed against my ass.” As if he needed the reminder, as if that singular thought hasn’t been plaguing him for the past 10 minutes.

“And what exactly are you going to do about that, darling?”

His words were meant to make you shy, were said to watch those sweet eyes of yours widen. Except, Simon realises, he must have awoken something within you, something bold, something utterly fucking debauched, because instead of shying away, you lock your eyes with his, rising to the challenge he set. You stand up, turn yourself around, climb back onto his lap and sink down onto his cock in one fluid motion.

“Fucking-, shit, what the fuck,”

“I think that works for both of us, right, Simon?” You need to stop, or you at least need to give him some time to adjust to whatever the fuck it is you’re doing right now. He can tell you’re far from unaffected, however. The slight quiver to your voice, and the way the slick walls of your pussy clench greedily around him show at least that much. And yet, you’re pinning him with a fierce gaze, your fingers forming an iron grip on loose brown hair at the base of his skull, using him as leverage to grind your hips in circular motions. “Let me take care of you, handsome.” His response cut off by a groan as you begin to fuck yourself on his cock, his eyes frantically flicking from where your cunt swallows every inch of his shaft, back up to your heavy-lidded gaze, locked onto his as you effortlessly ride his cock.

So instead of trying to take the lead, to lift his hips to meet yours, for the first time ever, Simon Riley does as he’s told. He allows you to control the pace, lets you direct his hands to your waist, but doesn’t use it as a point of control. Instead he caresses your skin with rough fingers. He lets you take care of him. And God, does it feel good.

He lets his head fall back, lets his eyes slip closed, and allows himself to just exist in this moment with you. A luxury he hasn’t been able to afford for far too long. Instead, he focuses on the sounds dissipating into the air around your joined bodies, the soft pants and moans that spill from both his mouth and yours, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin combined with the slick noise of his cock fucking into your heat, and if he focuses hard enough, he swears he can hear the rapid beating of your heart where your chest is pressed flush to his.

“C’mon Simon, baby, look at me.” It takes an embarrassing amount of energy for Simon to lift his neck up, refocusing his gaze onto you, “You’re doing so well, letting me look after you like this.” And fuck, he doesn’t want to cry, can’t remember the last time he allowed himself the comfort of crying, but he feels so unequivocally safe around you. Still, the time for tears will come later, right now, Simon wants nothing more than to feel you lose yourself on his cock. He secures his hands on your ass, and stands, ignoring your surprised cries and worried scolding, and walks as best he can towards the mattress near your desk. He doesn’t want to admit that lowering you both down onto the cheap material nearly left him breathless, and he definitely won’t admit that you were right, he didn’t have the strength to do that. But now that he has you lying on top of him, cock still buried deep inside of you, he knows the pain was more than worth it. Because in this position, he can ground his feet into the mattress and focus on fucking you like you deserve.

He ignores the sting of pain in his thigh, no doubt ruining some of the stitching you had done earlier, but he couldn’t give less of a shit. Not when you’re mewling into his chest, nails scratching long, thin pink lines down the expanse of his chest as he fucks his hips ruthlessly up to meet yours. He knows he won’t last much longer, you feel too fucking good, and he has no strength to hold back, praying that you’re as close as he is as he snakes one hand down to toy with your clit once again. Relief washing over him when he feels your cunt clench like a vice around his length, allows himself one, two more thrusts of his hips before he finally reaches his peak, cock twitching like a heartbeat from where it’s buried within you, not moving until the last weak spurts of cum finish painting your cervix white.

“Fucking hell,” with his energy long since depleted, his body slumps into the mattress below, dragging you down with him, his arms still wrapped securely around your form.

“That good, huh?” You grin up at him, eyes glinting in the low light. You look positively stunning.

“You know it, sweetheart,” Simon pauses, looks down at where you’re still sprawled against his chest, and silently thanks the motherfucker who decided to shoot him in the first place, he’s not sure if he would have ever gathered the strength to have you like this, in the way he always craved. “C’mere, I want cuddles.” He grunts, choosing to ignore the surprised laugh you give in response, says nothing at your incessant teasing and light threats to tell Soap that “oh my god, Ghost likes cuddles”.

He does none of that, instead, he holds you close, stares up at the ceiling as you bury your face into his neck, whispering sweet confessions into his skin, words he soaks up and saves for a rainy day. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley has never been a man to care about his own health, even now he still sees that damn hourglass, unsure of how much sand remains. But now he has a reason to change that.

Now, he has you.

#☁︎⋅writing #simon riley #simon 'ghost' riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mw22 #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #ghost x reader #ghost x you #dear lord #this derailed so quick #i wanted soft ghost #i got soft ghost plus nearly 2k of soft ghost smut #i ruined myself #anyway enjoy SLDFS

[harmonysanreads]

Recipe - Yandere!Sunday

Ingredients: A Fresh Sunday, Childhood Trauma, Crippling Anxiety, Bone-Crushing Loneliness, Political Power, Unpredictability, Intelligence, Empathy, Blessing of “Xipe”, A Darling, Salt

INSTRUCTIONS

First make sure that your Sunday is dry of any past romantic experiences. The moisture from romantic experience interferes with the frying process but, if you don't mind getting a few extra burns, feel free to keep it. Now, take a large bowl and start by putting a dash of Childhood Trauma. Close your eyes and pour as much Bone-Crushing Loneliness as you desire, add a good chunk of Unpredictability and Intelligence into the mix. Don't worry about the measurements, just use your feelings.

Now, put Political Power into the amalgam ; you can empty out the entire packet if you really like the feeling of powerlessness. Add the Blessing of “Xipe” for a twinge of spice and a healthy portion of Empathy so whenever your Sunday thinks of how wrong his actions are, he kills himself a little inside. Last but not least, a pinch of salt because no dish is complete without it. Mix everything evenly and regret not getting a bigger bowl.

So this time, get a sufficiently large pot and fill it to about halfway with Crippling Anxiety. Turn on the heat and bring it close to the boiling point. Take your Sunday and marinate him with the mixture, make sure there's no empty spot on his person. Now, gently throw him in the boiling pot of Crippling Anxiety and wait for about 10 minutes.

You might be questioning why we need to fry him in Crippling Anxiety out of everything? That is because hot Crippling Anxiety will convert Bone-Crushing Loneliness into Possessiveness. Which will then branch out to Jealousy upon meeting the necessary conditions, but trying to identify this Jealousy will be near-impossible due to Sunday's immaculate ability to act (this talent is a byproduct of adding too much Childhood Trauma and Bone-Crushing Loneliness, as such, you don't have to worry about getting it from the store). So, don't waste your time there. By now, some parts of Sunday's Childhood Trauma have probably transformed into Relationship linked Insecurities. Wait for five more minutes and your Yandere!Sunday is crisp and ready.

Feel free to serve him with A Darling anytime — yes, they're the sauce.

CAUTIONS

Be careful when you release Sunday into the boiling pot of Crippling Anxiety, you wouldn't want to splash yourself in that.

Don't be greedy and eat some of the Political Power when you're pouring it in the bowl, it tastes very, very bitter.

The Blessing of “Xipe” is a crucial ingredient because it'll give your Sunday that unsettling aura. Don't let the shadiness deter you and just buy it.

Don't be too generous with the Childhood Trauma, we don't want our Sunday to be way too dysfunctional.

Last Modified : May 9, 2024

#wouldn't you like to know that the blueprint for this was an actual chicken wing recipe #now if only i was this competent in a real kitchen my mom would be proud of me u—u #sunday brainrot #yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader #sunday x reader #yandere concepts #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere imagines

[khattikeri]

one of my favorite things about mdzs is that for how heavily its plot involves politics of classism and misogyny... even the characters most directly impacted by it can't and don't free themselves from it. literally the closest exception is mianmian.

meng yao being the "son of a whore" wasn't some sort of commie awakening for him that led him to wanting everyone to be socially equal. he played the political game, climbed the ladders, sucked up to and backstabbed and murdered people, including other prostitutes who actually had nothing to do with how he and his mother were treated at the brothel he grew up in.

he put in so much extra excessive effort for even a fraction of the same respect that members of gentry cultivation clans got. and he did deserve to be treated more humanely! but he feeds into the exact same system that created him, leading to his own undoing.

his efforts were for a fragile upward mobility that was never going to hold up. he never surpassed his origins nor did he empower others in similar stations, because the society he lives in is not one that would accept that.

the second he got caught and all those crimes exposed, he was scapegoated to hell and back, replacing wei wuxian as society's terrible one-sidedly evil boogeyman overnight.

speaking of not-quite male gentry, i think it's interesting that wei wuxian explicitly doesn't try to climb the ladders in BOTH lives, knowing full well that anything he does will be punished just for the sheer fact that he is wei wuxian.

wei wuxian is scolded for giving intelligent and correct answers in school. lan wangji does the same and is praised.

wei wuxian occasionally lounges around with fellow disciples and is punished. jiang cheng does the same and mostly escapes.

wei wuxian refuses to carry his sword around in public (after losing his golden core, which nobody knows) and is scorned as an arrogant upstart. nie huaisang has been doing the EXACT SAME THING for YEARS and nobody bats an eye.

unlike jin guangyao, wei wuxian knew subconsciously from the start that his acceptance was superficial and that he could be cast out any time. when he was 10 and recently taken in by the jiangs, he canonically would not eat or use "too much" food and water because he thought they'd find him a nuisance for "wasting their things" and kick him back out.

now away from just the classism, yu ziyuan is a proud and strong noblewoman in a society that belittles and derides women for everything they do. her strong cultivation doesn't matter. she's victim to the vicious rumors of her husband loving another woman who is strong like her but apparently had a more likeable personality.

it doesn't matter even if jiang fengmian didn't cheat or that wei wuxian is wei changze's son with cangse sanren; yu ziyuan can't bear with the humiliation of herself (and by extension her children) not being "good enough". she's ridiculed for "failing" in that one duty as a wife, mother, and woman.

she lashes out and takes out that anger on everyone present for years, giving her children lasting trauma and also being a key element in how the jiang family and yunmeng jiang sect are effectively wiped out at the hands of the wen clan.

madam jin doesn't even have a name outside of the fact that she's married to jin guangshan. i don't even remember reading anything that indicates if she's a strong or weak cultivator, or what, which in itself proves that to most people, it doesn't matter. she's "just" a woman.

of course she's angry at her husband's affairs and all the bastard children they bring in. but she also can't do anything about them, so she lashes out at the few people she can: servants. non-cultivators, probably. those very same bastard children.

shoutout to meng yao getting shoved down a flight of stairs at age fourteen, because if madam jin tried that move against her husband instead, it would make her lose even more face, which as a noblewoman she'd never do.

and that's not getting into how jiang yanli is consistently sidelined for being physically weak.

that's not getting into how mianmian was actually a good cultivator, but was mocked by everyone around her for trying to stand up for wei wuxian when everyone was turning on him. how everyone scoffed at luo qingyang's words as "just some lovesick woman" who "obviously wants to marry or bed him since he saved her".

luo qingyang is the only one of these characters who HASN'T died. she didn't play society's games like jin guangyao. she didn't dig her heels in confidence of her own abilities like wei wuxian.

she didn't bitterly lash out like yu ziyuan and madam jin. she didn't gently accept it like jiang yanli.

she just LEFT.

she married an ordinary merchant and cultivates separately from mainstream cultivation society, and therein found her own peace and happiness.

mxtx doesn't bother with particularly class conscious or feminist vocabulary to hand-hold readers into understanding these disparities, but that choice highlights them & the deeply entrenched politics of their society even more. i really love it.

#keri chats #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #long post #mdzs spoilers #im novel only but still tagging. #the untamed #cql #yeah yeah everyone's written meta addressing this aspect of the story BUT I THINK ABOUT IT ALL THE TIMEEEEE #maybe i just don't get to read a ton of books often; esp not ones that mirror my own culture. but it's just so. soooooo. augh #the fact that the setting itself enables so much of the tragedy in mdzs... which is true of all tragedies but STILL... #this isn't even getting into qin su and the power imbalance w her and jgy post-reveal... man. #man. so much going on here. man #THIS POST IS MESSY AND BARELY EDITED BUT IF U READ IT. ILU

[rubra-wav]

Hello! I saw asks were open and I wanted to drop a request! What if Husk, Angeldust, and Alastor (separate) had a s/o who revealed that they could break deals on their (the collared's) end given some time?

Husk, Angel Dust and Alastor with a Dealbreaker S/O

[Part 2]

A/N: Alastor's is written as purely platonic tho per my personal boundaries

My Hazbin OC actually is a powerful Dealbreaker, so I'm going off of the lore I've thought up on this topic for him haha

I will maybe write a part 2 where reader actually manages to break the contracts rather than just saying they could.

CW: Sfw, angsty asf in places, reference to addiction, mention/reference to violence, Angel's touches a bit more on abuse response/trauma response type stuff, body/ horror imagery in Alastor's (Alastor being the creature he is basically)

Husk

- Husk would not believe you at all at first.

- He would be tending the bar and then stop mid-drying a glass as a heartbreaking hint of hope (the first hope he'd felt in centuries) passes over his face for a second before crumpling and turning to extreme bitterness.

- "That's not funny." He'd growl through grit teeth at you, thinking it was some kind of cruel joke.

- When reassured that you are absolutely serious, he gives you more of a look of almost pity, sighing as if deeply tired.

- He tells you that multiple people have told him the same thing over the years, and that they have all failed just the same.

- All skilled people who were known to be able to break even soul ownership deals wide open.

- The leash Alastor had on him was air-tight.

- He basically tells you it would be a giant waste of time and that you should give up and focus your time on something better then a poor old sinner like himself.

- When you don't back down from the discouragement, he sighs again, but feels warmth burning in his chest at the fact you wanted to help him so badly.

- He's not hopeful, but he wants to have faith in you even if he's trying to discourage you and scare you straight as much as possible.

- He wants so badly to be free so he can be with you without any limits of his commitment to you and only you. To not have to think about whether he's going to be summoned to some bullshit getup again whenever Alastor gets bored of the Hazbin Hotel.

- Deep down he's absolutely desperate for you to succeed in your mission.

- He wants the catalyst for his alcohol problem to go away so he can live and finally actually be happy without the heaviness of his deal weighing on him at all times, making him desperately need the escape.

- He absolutely will tell you very very seriously to not to let this slip that you're doing this to anybody though - or talk about this in a place you aren't absolutely confident doesn't have any certain member of the hotel listening in.

- Husk doesn't think that Alastor would harm you physically over this, that asshole would probably just find it amusing. However.

- Husk's worst fear would be you trying to get him his soul back by signing away yours, something very possible Alastor would offer as a trick.

- He'd be skeptical, fearful of you succumbing to a deal with Alastor, and not very hopeful at all as he's tried time and time again to break the contract on his soul. You are so... optimistic that you'll find a way, but again, his collar is air-tight. You'll have your work cut out for you breaking the deal of someone who's notoriously a dealmaker.

Angel Dust

- When you tell him that, he tenses up with a sharp inhale of breath, a complete 180 from how he just was seconds before, winding down from his night in his hotel room with you.

- Angel's deal would be logically way more easier to break. However, what Valentino's deal doesn't directly hold of Angel, the moth's manipulation keeps him stuck imprisoned under him.

- Angel absolutely would have thought of contacting a dealbreaker, however never actually would due to how terrified he is. If it turned out one of those people were a mole for Val trying to catch him out, Angel would be in so much pain from the punishment that that would entail. You cannot trust someone claiming to be a dealbreaker in hell isn't lying to you through their teeth.

- When he realises you are absolutely serious though, and obviously confident in your abilities, a myriad of harsh emotions pass across Angel's face. Fear (for both his and your safety), and hope made themselves the most apparent.

- Fear of what Val would do to him if he ever found out about this conversation. What he'd do to you.

- Valentino was certainly not above hurting people to get his way. Angel knew that better then anybody. But if Val ever caught wind that Angel's secret lover behind the scenes was trying to steal away Val's biggest money maker and favourite toy, he'd kill you. Straight up.

- That fear was there and was deeply terrifying to him. But so was the hope. A flurry of hope that fills him with relief and brings tears pricking at his eyes at the idea that he could actually be free of his captor and go do whatever you two decide and be fully happy without fear of Val.

- Live with you not as Angel Dust, but as Anthony. Completely his real, authentic self.

- "How." He whispers breathlessly.

- You tell him that you need to see the contract itself, analyse all the ins and outs and come up with a counter-contract.

- There would be a few ways you could actually break the deal from there, and although they would be time consuming and possibly (very much probably) dangerous, you were confident you could break him out.

- Angel would be extremely fearful, but also hopeful. You seem confident in your ability as his contract is messy and poorly crafted. He's reassured as you say that what's mostly chaining him down is the psychological control Val has over him.

Alastor

- When you tell Alastor this, I feel he could respond two ways depending on how you've learnt that information.

If he hasn't told you himself:

- If he hasn't told you this or doesn't know how you've found out, he's going to be absolutely pissed. At you and probably Husk (assuming Husk told you)

- He'd turn towards you with jerky, unnatural movements, bones and joints cracking loudly in a cringe worthy way. Overhead, the lights would be flickering as static begins to fill your head.

- Towering over you, he'd be still bent in that weird position as he grips sharpened claws into your shoulders. Your friendship is the only thing keeping him from making you nothing more then a stain on the wall.

- "Who told you about that."

- When you tell how you've found out, he likely let's out a chuckle dripping with anger that makes you want to cover your ears as the sound scrapes into them. "And what makes you think you could do what even I cannot?"

- He has analysed every single last clause, letter, meaning of the words used, every possible loophole in his contract to the point it's driven him to have multiple psychological breakdowns. To him there is no doubt in his mind at all that he's completely fucked by the contract he was tricked into and there's no chance in hell that you would ever be able to even assist.

- When you push and say that you want to do this for him, he's not even a little flattered at all, in fact, it bruises his ego massively that you'd have the audacity to confidently imply you could do what he's worked so hard to for 7 years.

- In instance one, he's incredibly pissed off at you for claiming you could ever undo his contract after learning about it from someone other then him, so angry he almost kills you. Leaves you alone shaking and afraid in the hall telling you not to say anything to anybody else about his deal, and to never so flagrantly exaggerate your own worth so massively again. Your prior confidence stamped down to embers.

If you are close enough of a person to him that he's confided in you about his collar however:

- He'd just chuckle, calling it cute that you thought you could do that while walking away.

- You miss the way his eye twitches.

- He'd still be incredibly angry about it, but due to not being surprised you knew of his biggest secret, he'd hide it much better.

- Continues to laugh when you insist you can do it, and would passive aggressively respond about how you should not overestimate your abilities and mind your own business essentially.

- Again, he's pissed off and his ego is bruised about it. But this time, he's hiding it behind his smile and is passive aggressive as fuck about it rather then outwardly aggressive. He won't let you know how much you've actually gotten to him even though he would have let his walls down to some extent to ever tell you that.

A/N I was actually already planning a fully written x reader fic that's not just the dot points with Angel at some point where reader saves him from his contract, so like... Maybe I'll do full fics for dealbreaking Husk and Alastor's contracts as well because I'm kind of interested in exploring a fic w them after writing this now

(I'm probably gonna say this then eat shit via the universe straight after lmfao 💀)

#hazbin hotel #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #this was actually so cool to write thank you for requesting this one

[justporo]

Randomly asked myself what Astarion's love languages would be, as in receiving.

Words of affirmation: On the outside it might feel like this is merely a game, shallow praise and such, but he dies for genuine compliments. No one can tell me he wouldn't actually drop to his knees if Tav called him a "good boy" - only it's contradicting his image, so he reserves the big goofy genuine smiles for when you are private. But be sure that he would give you the absolute wettest eyes if you tell him how smart and wonderful he is.

Acts of service: I mean you went with him to kill his master. Of course he'd enjoy you doing things for him, he's a bit of a princess of course. But I feel like this one is not as big for him, because maybe he'd like to be more independent now that he is able to. Not that he would say no if you were to offer doing him a favour of any kind.

Receiving gifts: He loves being spoiled. He had nothing but the often stitched up shirt on his back for so long. So just about every little thing you might gift him would mean the world to him - which also might mean that your place is getting a little cluttered. But who really cares if you see how happy it makes him?

Physical touch: This I feel like is the biggest one for Astarion. Sometimes it's hard of course, because sometimes trauma has a way to come back to haunt him. But he's desperate to work through it because nothing feels quite as good as being as close as possible to you. To feel your fingers softly detangle his curls, your legs all wrapped around him as he lays between your legs, face buried at your warm chest where he feels your warmth seep into his body and your smell surrounds him - and he found his personal heaven.

Quality time: This is a big one because that is something he didn't ever get to enjoy properly before. Astarion could waste away centuries with you just cuddled up with you, or just sharing a space in companionable silence as you each do stuff. Maybe you're reading while he's doing soke embroidery. The silence isn't heavy and you keep throwing each other loving glances across the room.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #poro headcanons #astarion x you #bg3 companions

[chosopie]

SHE’S EVIL - CHOSO KAMO

cw: mentions of gore, smut, bdsm, sub choso

Choso was absolutely obsessed with you. Every single night, he would watch true crime to stay updated with your latest murders. No one knows what you looked like, but the thought and idea of you turned him so much. A dangerous woman with enough power and skill to shake the whole country and bring it to shambles—all that got his dick leaking.

One night, as he watched the latest news about you, his eyes widened in shock and excitement after reading the headline. You had skinned someone alive, ripping their back and ribs off to make wings out of them, turning them into a fucked-up angel, then you hung them on the brick walls of an alley that was just down the corner of the street. You were so close to him. It made his heart skip a beat.

He admired you a lot, not because you were just some cold-hearted killer, but because you had motive. In a cruel world full of injustices and corruption, a lot of bad men get to walk away free from their crimes while their victims had to live the rest of their lives carrying the burdens and trauma of their past. In some way, you were a vigilante, not like Batman. You were more gruesome and violent, leaving your victims in a state that no one skilled enough could replicate. You were an artist in some wag. There was this one instance where you decapitated a man, and gutted him from the inside out, tying his organs around his body like necklaces and bracelets. You made murder look so beautiful.

Choso found it so hot.

That gave him a clue. He decided to venture to the nearby local hospital. He asked around for their most prestigious surgeon. “I need to meet the best,” he demanded. The lady by the desk called you—a classy woman who was finely dressed in a perfectly tailored blazer with a white dress shirt peeking underneath. The tight pencil skirt you wore showed off your curves. Your shoes were from a famous Parisian brand that was surely expensive and chic. You were the epitome of class and elegance.

“You can meet me by my office if you have any concerns. I’d be more than happy to help,” you flashed a smile at him, your teeth were perfect and well-kept. There was something eerie about your smile. It was too perfect that it didn’t seem genuine at all.

Choso wasted no time and dragged himself to your office. After a few minutes of waiting, it was finally his turn to “consult” you. Something in his gut made him so sure that you were the notorious killer.

“Good afternoon, mister…?” You quickly stole a glance at him, then looked back down on your notebook, your hand quickly writing notes about the previous patient.

“Choso,” he replied.

“What seems to be the problem, Choso?”

“Are you the one responsible for all those… art pieces?” Choso gulped, his face turning pale from the anxiousness the crept within his chest.

“Art pieces? I’m a surgeon, dear,” you responded without taking your eyes off your notebook, busily jotting down additional information about your patient who suffered from a severe form of hernia. You remained calm despite knowing exactly what he was referring to. The man seemed to have no ill intention towards you. Perhaps you’ve gained quite an audience and some fans.

“The angel,” Choso spoke again, hoping it would clarify things. It felt like a futile attempt. Of course, if you truly were the killer, then you wouldn’t just reveal yourself to someone like him.

“What about it? Did you like what you saw?” You finally stopped writing and stood up. Choso couldn’t help but look at your dress shirt which was unbuttoned on the top, giving him a glimpse of your push-up bra.

Choso instantly turned red, sweat forming on his temples. “Yes. Well, I think you’re very skilled. You’re the best out there,” he stuttered.

“Of course I am,” you grinned.

Now that you’ve revealed his identity to him, Choso found himself in the best possible situation he could have gotten into, right between your big thighs, his tongue swiping and sucking on your clit until you cum and squirt on his pretty face.

Choso begged you to let him fuck you, but you told him to be patient. He was on his knees, arms tightly wrapped around your leg while he desperately humps you, smearing his pre-cum all over your leg.

He amused you, and because of this, you decided to keep him around as your little toy. You can't keep relying on killing assholes to keep you excited. You needed a little fun when it comes to sex and bitches too.

Choso would frequent your office or you'd bring him to your car so he could relieve you. If he was good enough, you'd return the pleasure by riding his dick until his eyes are rolled back and his tongue was sticking out. Sometimes, he'd even ask you to hold him at gunpoint or to press a knife against him. He was your cute and freaky sex doll. Your pride and ego forbid you from admitting this, but you’ve grown a soft spot for him.

#rev.writes #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x female reader #choso kamo smut #jjk smut #choso smut #jjk choso

[azulock]

so I wanna requests the guys as dads, I remember at some point you said you wanted to do something like this and I really wanna see it

Time to rull up my sleeves, cause I did say I was gonna do one of those right? Back when I got annoyed that all I found was girl dad this girl dad that and I got tired of all the typical gendering going on in dad fics.

Ryusei Shidou

Girl dad in the most chaotic way possible. Tiaras coexist with bows and arrows as a princess fights off an invasion. Every doll and plushie has a tattoo made either with a sharpie or from a patch attached with hot glue. Every tea time is a mafia family meeting that always involves an assassination plot. And the barbies live very intense lives that inevitably delve into wrestling like storylines where each one has a gimmick, a long standing feud, and a clear thirst for blood.

Chaos may not be the best thing to keep an organized home, but it's good for mental development. And much like a kid, Shidou also thrives in creative chaos. He isn't the best at practical things, especially the ones involving routine and quiet time, but he has got his uses. Very good at wasting his daughter's energy until she drops straight into a deep sleep. His antics are also good at convincing her to eat pretty much anything. And of course, great at entertaining her so you can take a break.

Oliver Aiku

Boy dad but like he really doesn't care, he'd be giving the same extremely affectionate, and even a bit clingy, treatment to his kid no matter the gender - sugary sweet nicknames included. Probably heard people saying he coddles his son too much, treating him like a princess, but Oliver is good at playing deaf. Tho, that kid gonna have to fight for the right to have his feet touching the ground, cause dad wants to carry his offspring everywhere. Sure to raise a boy as clingy and openly affectionate as him.

Those reflexes honed for football are quite good at catching a kid before an ugly fall. And he's actually good at the general everyday stuff, surprisingly patient too. Takes a genuine interest in the things his son likes, so when the boy shows sudden interest in colorful nail polish, he'll show up to a match with badly painted soft purple nails. Likes sleeping on the floor with his boy, when asked why the floor and not the bed he brings up the old man excuse of "the floor is good for my back".

Reo Mikage

Girl dad and he was ready for a little princess, but what he got was more of a cave dwelling gremlin. He was expecting frilly dresses and tea time but he gets a little girl who likes bugs, playing in the mud and digging things from the ground. It hits him as a surprise but he adapts to that, and as much as he isn't very excited for the cleanup afterward, he is always eager to entertain his girl's odd interests. If buying dinosaur fossils weren't such a legal can of worms he'd buy one just to bury it for her to dig up.

If he wasn't convinced to go to therapy before, now is the moment to convince him. Just gotta say he should do it not to become like his dad and he's gonna be booking the appointment fast. Will be reading child pedagogy books and shit like that to make sure he can be a good and understanding dad. Really just trying to kill his family's trauma conga line at himself - wants his daughter to trust and count on him in the way he never could with his dad.

Michael Kaiser

Boy dad but to the gentlest, sweetest of souls, a little boy who seems to have absolutely nothing in common with his dad, aside from some physical traits. It at the same time shocks and scares him, because the world out there is not kind to sweet people. But while the boy is at home, Kaiser can keep him safe. It does frustrate him a little bit when he tries to get his son into football but the boy is more into art than sports, but he learns to move past that. Truth is, he wanted the boy to mirror his traits a bit more, so this is a humbling experience.

That poor rose tattoo of his does not see a day of peace after his son learned to color. Tho, Kaiser gets used to the shaky new roses drawn on his skin fair enough. And he actually considers getting a full tattoo of just lineart and not colors just to let the boy color in. He's not the most patient so he has a bit of a hard time getting used to the whole parenting thing, but he does try his best. Also, whenever he takes his son out somewhere he makes their clothes match in color scheme.

a word from out sponsors: @tinnaagine @loser-vxbez @kiurona @bentolover @bevernats @weirdbutpr3tty @ada7201 @vollereix @rinitosh @kum1ko-chan @romanticizemai @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @qichun @true-latverian-baklava @oliveraikusweatyshirt @fivenightsatwhoreville @geemyfirstluvstory @mariyumemi

#oliver aiku x reader #reo mikage x reader #michael kaiser x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #mikage reo x reader #ryusei shido x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader

[neowinestainedress]

‘CAUSE IT’S YOU | L.DH

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pout. “I hate you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ll be back soon. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even last year?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Two,” he replies. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Want to try something new?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The neighbor?” Haechan tries to guess again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Haechan raises a brow. “For us?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grab it with shaky hands and look inside. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff, “me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy now?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Close,” you mutter. 

“Yeah, me too,” he groans, “come.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Yes — yes, love it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go on, I’m sorry.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“But…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?” 

Haechan nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit, it’s fine. I’ll go take it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dasom,” Haechan scolds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re happy, and you feel at home. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not. I’m cool, unlike you.”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey! You didn’t see that yet.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask where are your parents?” 

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

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

“Mom!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Even if I burn it?” you joke. 

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

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

“That’s where you get the overdramatic-ness,” you whisper only for Haechan to hear, and he mocks you with a stupid face. 

“Well, time to go, we annoyed them enough,” Dasom says, pushing the younger out of the door. “Merry Christmas, and thank you for everything!” 

“Merry Christmas to you too!” You and Haechan greet again, watching as they all make their way out of the apartment. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Cover up, it’s cold outside,” you say. “And drive safely, please.” 

“We will, it’s not far from here,” his dad reassures you. 

“Goodnight!”

When you make sure they enter the elevator, you close the door behind, and you sigh. 

“Yeah, I now realize I should’ve made you meet them sooner for a shorter amount of time,” Haechan says right away with a hint of irony in his voice. 

“You’re kidding, they’re amazing. I love them.” 

“So you’re not overwhelmed?”

“Maybe a bit, but they’re so much fun. Your mother is lovely. And I love your sister, I need her number so we can become friends.” 

“Nope, not happening. You two together will be the death of me,” he laughs, shaking his head.  

You stick your tongue out before opening your arms to him, begging for a hug. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in, breathing deeply your sweet scent as he caresses your back. “You did so well today, I’m so proud of you.” 

You don’t reply, just smile in the crook of his neck as your arms hold him tighter and feel all the pent-up stress leave your shoulders. You let his perfume lull you, and the warmth of his body calm you. You two stay there for a while, he leaves small kisses on the top of your head, and you chuckle when it tinkles, and just hug him tighter. And you think that, even if you’re always all over each other, hugging is not something you do a lot, and you need to change that. But you’re both starting to feel the tiredness of the day, and you’re the first to pull away.

“Come on, let’s go get changed, I want to slump in our ugly pajamas together.” 

In less than twenty minutes, you both have showered and changed into your matching pajamas, the lights in the living room are off, and you’re ready to go to bed.

When you enter the bedroom, you see Haechan at the window, looking outside, and you quickly reach him, hugging him from behind and starting to leave kisses on his neck, making him giggle.

“What?” He hums when he looks behind and finds you staring at him with big doe eyes. 

“You were so cute as a kid,” you whisper. 

“Yeah, I noted that you would’ve had a crush on me if we met during kindergarten,” he chuckles, and you do the same. 

“No, dummy,” you scoff. “I mean, yes, probably. You were a charmer with your pretty curls and that smile. Would’ve swept little me right off my feet.” 

He turns around, hugging you. “Should we go back in time and see?” 

“Nah, I like our romantic start with the fuck in the car, more appropriate for adult-us,” you joke, and he laughs. “But little you got me a baby fever.” 

“Oh,” Haechan says, furrowing. “You run fast when you want to.” 

You shake your head, snickering. “I’m not that serious, I don’t want it right now, but... it sparked in my mind just for a moment.”

“Yes, we would make pretty kids, that’s what you’re saying.” 

“You ruin all the fun with all this mind-reading,” you pout, crossing your arms on your chest, and he laughs, kissing your pout. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I can’t give you a kid right now, but we can practice, so we know what to do when we want one.”  

You stare at him. “Tell me this was not supposed dirty talking because it’s the worst line that ever came out of your mouth.” 

“Hey! I was trying to be sexy.” 

“You’d be sexier if you just straight up told me you wanted to fuck. Because it’s also what I’ve been subtly trying to tell you.” 

“Nah-ah, you said you wanted my kids,” he teases, kissing your lips. 

You roll your eyes. “Not what I wanted to say.” 

“I don’t reckon a breeding kink, though. Missed something from your bdsm test results?” 

“Shut up, that’s weird. I was being sweet before, not horny. And breeding kink is only funny when it doesn’t turn into actual pregnancy.” 

He stares at you with a confused face, and you scoff, waving him off with your hand. 

“Can I give you the special Christmas gift?” You say, changing subject, batting your lashes seductively at him.

“Sure.” 

“Sit on the bed,” you order and then watch as he does what you say before you take a few steps back so there’s some distance between you. 

“You will not striptease with that ugly nightwear on?” 

You roll your eyes and sigh heavily. “Why do you have to ruin all the fun? This is the best part of it all, the ugly nightwear. Now, will you let me do what I have to do, or do I have to go to somebody else? You know, we don’t have Mark next door anymore, but the neighborhood down the corridor is always so nice to me, and he used to flirt before you moved here, so I’m sure he would appreciate it.” 

“Oh, shut up! He’s lowkey a creep, and he always stares at you as if he’s never seen a woman his entire life. He probably wouldn’t even make you come, but he’ll nut in his pants as soon as you’ll touch him.” 

You chuckle at his accurate description. “So, you don’t want all this to go to waste, right?” you ask, pointing at your body from head to toe. “You better shut up and let me do what I have to do.” 

“Go on,” he says, nodding, and then sits more comfortably on the bed. 

Your dance as you strip is not exactly the sexiest thing on earth with the fluffy, baggy pants and no music playing in the background, but Haechan is having a lot of fun anyway watching your hips move, your hands run on your body, and your teasing faces. 

But it quickly turns serious when you lift your top off your head, revealing a red lace bra. 

“Fuck,” Haechan mutters, sucking his breath in and squeezing his thighs for a second. He has your body imprinted in the back of his mind by now, yet, every time, you leave him breathless. 

You keep going, letting the pants fall on the floor and gracefully picking them up to lay them on the chair, hips swinging as your hands run on your exposed body. You turn around, giving him a perfect view of your ass, and he bites back a moan. You chuckle delightedly, feeling shivers form on your skin when you hear him shuffle with his pants, probably pulling them down to ease the boner. 

You bend over, looking at him upside down, winking when he meets your gaze, before giggling when your eyes fall on his fist wrapped around his dick. 

“Hard already?” You ask teasingly, standing up and facing him. 

“What does it look like?” 

You pout, tilting your head. “I guess we have to do something about it. It’s too easy to turn you on.” 

“It’s not my fault you know all the right bottoms to push,” he replies. 

You huff. “Please, I just danced a bit, like this,” you stop, swinging your hips again and touching your body, cupping your boobs in the see-through red bra before reaching your neck and moving down again. “And bent over.” 

He sighs again, but you notice the gulp when he follows your body. “Dance for me?” 

You smile. “You don’t want me to take care of you?” 

“Not yet,” he breathes out. “Just dance for me, I’ll put some music on.” 

You smile and start moving, this time with slow music filling the silence. The Christmas lights hanging in the bedroom make the room look like a club, and you quickly get into the vibe. 

Seeing Haechan stroking his hand on his hard dick lazily while his eyes are stuck on you, is turning you on much quicker than expected. It goes on for a while, your body moving to the rhythm while his hand gradually picks up the pace, especially when you get in more provocative positions or get close to him, only to leave him with nothing.  

“Touch yourself,” he orders after long minutes of silence. “Bring the armchair in front of me and touch yourself with me.” 

A small gasp leaves your lips, but you’re quick to follow the instructions. You slowly sit, trying to maintain the sexy vibe. 

“Don’t undress.” His voice stops you right when your hands are about to pull the panties down. “You look too good in that set to throw it on the floor already.” 

You smirk, and then your hands move on your body. You throw your head back on the chair as you enjoy the sensation of your hands running on your skin, teasing your nipples, and slowly —too slowly, from Haechan’s annoyed groan— you start parting your legs. It’s clear it’s not enough when he says a stern call of your name. 

“Something wrong? Do you need something?” You tease, tilting your head to the side while your hands never stop touching your body, everywhere but where he wants you to. 

His eyebrow raises, and he scoffs. “You shouldn’t be naughty on Christmas, you know that?” 

You snicker, rolling your head back for a second before locking your gaze again. “Pfft, I already had my gifts, I can be as naughty as I want to.” 

“But do you? Do you want to?” He teases you, leaning a bit over. “I can see the dark spot from here, are you sure you want to punish yourself any longer?” 

You gulp at the intensity of his eyes. One second, you two are in a teasing-switchy-mode, and then one second later, he has this hold on you with just one look, pinning you down, leaving you no choice but to obey. 

“Good girl,” Haechan praises as soon as your legs spread open, one dangling down the seat, the other dangling on the armrest, and your fingers start moving your clit. 

A gasp of relief comes out of your lips, and your eyes flutter shut.

“Nah-ah, look at me. I want you to keep your eyes on me.” 

You lock eyes with him, feeling warmer. You love the way he looks at you, you’re sure you’ll never get tired of it. His eyes are full of lust and love, making you feel desperately wanted and loved. You feel so comfortable in that, knowing you can let him do whatever you both want and never feel used. It is a recurring thought every time you’re exposed to him because it’s something that you didn’t experience in the past. 

“Can — can you tell me what to do?” You shily ask. 

His lips curl in a smirk. “You want me to give you instructions? Not in the mood to have control tonight?” 

You shake your head. You don’t feel like it, even if you love teasing and being bratty, tonight you want to leave the reins in his hands and let him guide you. 

“Good.” Haechan clears his throat and sits better on the bed, his hand still slowly touching himself while the other lays flat on the mattress to keep his body up. “Tease your nipples with your other hand, I know you love to play with your boobs.” 

Your hand moves up swiftly, not wasting a second, and a shaky breath comes out of your lips as your fingers rub the hard, sensitive bud. They’re already hard from the chilly temperature of the room, the heat warming it up just enough to be warm if dressed up, but soon get even harder from the stimulation. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks with a teasing edge in his voice, and you nod. “Move the panties to the side, let me see how wet you are.” 

As soon as you move the crotch to the side, his eyes intensely stare between your legs as he licks his lips, watching your cum drip down, and you have to bite back a moan.

He snickers and you raise a brow. “And to think all you did was dance for me.” 

Your throat goes dry at the mockery but you find the words anyway. “But you — you are touching yourself.” 

Haechan chuckles again, throwing his head back to push back his hair before lifting it. “Yes? It turns you on so much to see my hand wrapped around my dick? Want to have your hand wrapped around it?” 

You nod as you bring your thumb to your lips, biting a hangnail. And he laughs. “You’re serious about me guiding you, torturing your pretty nails to contain yourself and don’t let a finger slip inside of you.” 

At the call out, you move away your thumb but he only laughs louder. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Slip a finger in and tell me what’s running in your mind.” 

Your finger slips in with ease, bringing relief, but words struggle to come out of your mouth as you feel smaller and smaller under his gaze. “I want to — I want to suck it.” 

Haechan smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Really? Want to be on your knees, between my legs?” 

You nod with much more enthusiasm needed, but you don’t care. It’s too tempting now that he has his legs vulgarly spread, his thick thighs begging to be touched as you take his dick in your mouth, and his eyes slightly glossy with pleasure. It’s not a common sight, but you love it. Looking up and seeing his face wrecked, his eyes teary, but what you love the most are his moans and whimpers, so high and needy, as he unconsciously starts fucking your mouth to reach his high. 

“Maybe I’ll let you do it after, but first take care of yourself…” 

You huff but don’t complain further and start to move your finger faster. 

“Good girl. Push another finger in, come on, fuck yourself faster,” he encourages, clearly understanding you’re growing impatient and want more. “You’re so filthy,” he snickers. “So fucking wet, listen to the pretty sounds you make.” 

A muffled moan is your reply to his comment, but your body speaks more than words. Your head rolls back and your eyes close before you remember he told you he wants you to keep eye contact, and your pussy gets even wetter with each pump of your fingers. 

“Please, another one,” you beg. Typically two fingers are perfect, but with each sound of his hand sliding up and down on his dick, and the sight of his length throbbing as droplets of cum roll down his cock and hand, you can’t help but want to fool your body that he’s inside of you. 

He smirks, but it’s not as teasing as before, he’s starting to falter too. “Go on, add another one. Stuff yourself full, pretend all you want that’s my dick inside of you.” It’s not much the dirty talk, but the way he knows you so well that makes you shiver and close your legs for a split second. There’s nowhere to hide with him. 

You bite your lips to push down your throat a pathetic, high moan when he stops his movements to take his top off, leaving it on the other side of the bed. He’s completely naked now, one hand running in his long brown locks before it goes back to his side to keep his body up, and the other wraps around his cock. 

“You’re so hot,” you whine, huffing. And he chuckles, cheeks blushing a bit. You rarely compliment him during sex, too fucked out to vocally tell him what he does to you, and it’s always your body speaking to him. So when it happens, he’s not used to it. 

“Am I? Or are you only turned on by this?” He jokes, head pointing between his legs. 

You shake your head. “It’s you, fuck. Your hair, your lips, the moles on your skin.” 

He chuckles, stopping your praises. “My moles?” 

“Yeah, your moles, I love them,” you confess. He should’ve got this a while ago, considering you always let your fingers brush them and connect them with invisible strings. “I love your stomach, your waist, your thighs. And your hands, fuck, they’re so beautiful.” 

This time it’s a genuine smile that spreads on his face before he lowers it to hide the effect your words had on him, and you smile too. 

“Want to come?” He asks, still overwhelmed by the praises, and you giggle. He’s always so confident, you can’t believe he’s acting shy now. 

“Yes, please. Together?” 

“Together.”

You pull the third finger out, prioritizing swiftness and deepness over thickness — you’ll have time for that. And start to quickly move your two fingers in and out while your thumb rubs your clit. Your other hand plays with your boobs with more eagerness, pinching the nipples and cupping the soft flesh as you please. And soon enough you’re both coming. Haechan’s fast strokes and loud moans are the last thing you need to come, unexpectedly squirting and hitting him too. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans, biting his lips, hips squirming as more cums keeps coming out of him, messily hitting his stomach, chest, and legs. 

Your head rolls back as the pleasure starts slowing down, your fingers are still lazily riding out the orgasm, and your eyes fall shut as your lungs take deep breaths. 

“Fuck, come here, this is torture,” Haechan groans, getting up to pull you on the bed on top of him, not waiting to be steady on his knees. 

You chuckle at his eagerness, honestly, you’re surprised he lasted that long without touching you. 

“Next time we’re doing this,” he hums, kissing you, “you’ll sit between my legs. I need to feel you close.” 

“Yeah, I noticed,” you giggle, pushing him flat down the mattress, and straddling his lap. Your hips grind on him, smearing the cum that splashed on his stomach on you, but you don’t care. You’re focused on kissing him, letting your fingers run in his long hair while enjoying the sensation of his running on your skin. 

“Mhh, are you going to be offended if I ride you instead of sucking your dick?” You ask, smiling awkwardly. 

He bursts into a loud laugh and then shakes his head. “Do you think I’d say no to that?” 

“I don’t know, I was kinda drooling over that, maybe the idea turned you on.” 

Haechan shrugs, pulling you into another kiss as his hands cup your ass. “It did turn me on, but I can’t stand another second not pressed against you. Why don’t we flip position, mhh? You wanted to be pampered tonight.” 

You smile, nodding. “Yeah, I’d prefer it. I don’t think I would last long on top.” 

He rolls you on your back, his lips never leaving yours and you chuckle in the kiss, trying to get rid of your panties, but he stops you again. “Keep them on, please.” You do as told, choking on a silent moan when his fingers brush your clit as he helps you keep them to the side. 

“You love this set, don’t you?” 

He nods, giving two tugs on his dick as he starts pressing it against your soaked slit. “Looks good on you.” 

A breathy, shaky moan slips from both of you as he sinks in, slowly as he always does, enjoying the feeling of every inch filling you up until he bottoms down. 

“You alright?” Haechan asks, and you nod with a small smile on your face. 

“Please fuck me?” You ask, trying to don’t show how eager you are. 

He chuckles but doesn’t tease you, instead, he places a hand on your hip and the other at the side of your head on the bed as his hips start moving. Each thrust is deep and long, knocking the air out of your lungs. And you get lost in the smooth movements of his body, rolling so easily to please you —God bless all those years of dancing. Your head rolls back when he snuggles in the crook of your neck to leave kisses on your skin, and your arms fly to wrap around him and bring him closer. 

You barely notice how one of his hands sneaks under your arched back to free you from the bra, and only sigh at the feeling of freedom that quickly gets overwhelmed with pleasure when his lips wrap around your hard nipples. 

“Fuck, Hyuck,” you whimper with your fingers clenched hard around his hair. You’re tempted to look at him, staring at his concentrated face as he sucks on your nipple, sending more shivers down your spine, but you’re too lost in pleasure and can’t bring yourself to look up. 

You bite your lips when he moves to the other side and the chill air of the room lingers over the warmth left by his mouth. The constant stimulation of your sensitive buds sends new shivers down your spine and makes the knot in your stomach tighten. 

“Fuck, babe, your boobs are so soft,” Haechan moans against your skin. His other hand creeps up and wraps around the neglected one, squeezing tight. 

A breathy moan rolls from your hips as your hand tangles in his hair and your hips jerk up against him.

“What? Why are you pulling away?” You ask in a whine when Haechan moves away from you and pulls out. 

“I don’t think you want me to rip them, right?” Haechan snickers as his fingers pull your panties down. 

“Oh, I thought — never mind,” you mumble, feeling heat creep on your face.  

He smiles, his gaze is gentle as ever as he lifts your face. “You thought I was leaving you?” 

You nod shyly, biting your lips. 

“I would never. See? I’m right here,” he reassures you. His lips meet yours, one hand cups your face and the other helps him slide into you again. 

You moan in the kiss while your hands reach his hair to pull him against you. “Want you,” you slur, watery eyes looking into his. 

“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “I just needed to get them out of the way.” 

Your lips meet again, and never truly part again. His rhythm picks up again, but this time he pushes your legs against your chest, reaching deeper, making you feel every inch more. 

“Hyuck,” you whine, throwing your head back as you gasp for more air. 

“Feels good? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” 

You nod frenetically. “Feels — feels good.” 

Haechan smirks, thumb brushing on your burning cheek before running over your quivering lips. “You’re so beautiful when you’re vulnerable like this,” he whispers, and you’re not sure you were supposed to hear it because it feels as if he’s talking about something else. It’s about you showing yourself fully to him, with no armor, and no mask, and not only during sex. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Taking me so well, so warm and wet,” he mutters under his breath, messily kissing you again, and reaching for your hand to intertwine it with his. With each drag of his dick inside of you, you feel closer to the edge, and automatically your legs wrap around his waist, pushing him deeper. 

“Fuck,” he groans, not expecting you to do that, and you feel his hips falter for a second, but he swiftly picks up the steady rhythm. 

“I’m close,” you whisper, and he hums. 

“Wait for me, can you, princess? I’m close too, just — fuck — just a bit more.” 

You nod and then feel the urge to do something. You’ve got more comfortable with time, but eye contact can still be pretty hard and vulnerable for you, yet you don’t think much when you cup his face and force him to look straight into your eyes. This time your stomach flutters from love, and you melt in his golden brown eyes looking into yours with nothing but love. And you can’t hold it anymore. “I love you,” you whisper, the sincerity and vulnerability in your voice watered down by lust but clearly there. 

Haechan doesn’t expect it; you see it in his eyes widening and you feel it in his hips slowing down for a few seconds. This is the first time it comes out of your lips while you’re having sex, he’s always the one getting a bit more caught up, confessing his love even in these intimate moments, while you save it for other times. He gulps, not knowing what do to, but then a shy smile creeps on his face as he lowers it again; just the time to regain his usual confidence before staring back at you. “I love you, too.” 

You smile, feeling warmth spread across your chest, and pull him in a kiss. 

And after that, you two are just skin and bones burning in synch in the passion of your love. One of your hands is in his hair, tugging a bit, while the other is wrapped around his shoulder, your nails scraping his delicate skin, and your legs are still wrapped around his waist. While Haechan’s hand is resting on your hip, and the other is holding his body up now that he’s lying closer to you and has more risk of losing balance. 

The orgasm washes over you at the same time as he keeps fucking into you and you kiss each other, moaning in the messy meeting of your lips. His fingers dig in your skin and your nails dig in his scalp, but none of you feel pain, just more pleasure as you both ride out your orgasm. 

Haechan doesn’t pull out right away. His head falls in the crook of your neck where he leaves more kisses, praising you in whispers, and you lay there with a dumb smile on your face. 

“Can I stay here inside of you forever?” He jokes, looking at you with a playful smirk on his face. 

You chuckle, shrugging. “I would lie if I said I’d be bothered, but unfortunately it would be impractical.”

“Fine, then just a bit more.” 

You both enjoy the intimacy of this closeness, occasionally kissing and caressing each other and when he pulls out of you, you groan, feeling suddenly cold. 

“I’ll be back, just let me get something to clean you up,” he says, leaving a peck on your lips before leaving. 

Haechan comes back with a wet towel in hand, sits next to you, and gently wipes you clean. Your legs close at the stimulation but his hand on your thighs helps you don’t focus on the fabric passing over your sensitive core. It’s quickly done, and he can come back next to you after a few minutes. 

You rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and smile when his hand wraps around you and starts caressing your back after pulling the covers on top of you. 

“Thank you,” Haechan whispers, eyes fixed on the ceiling. 

“For?” 

“For trying,” he replies, looking down at you to meet your eyes. “This time of the year is always so hard for you, and even last year you hated it, even if we were already together. I know you used to love it, but I thought it was going to take more time to live it with a light heart, well, as light as it can be,” he chuckles, but it’s an awkward laugh. There’s some pain in his voice, and you know that if it was possible he would take your pain and put it on his shoulders, but he can’t. 

You flip on your stomach, to look at him better, but that doesn’t stop his fingers from dancing on your back. 

“You underestimate me,” you joke. You’re not sure you want to talk about this now. The holidays are long, you’ve planned the entire week with his family, except for two days, you might still have some lows. But Haechan seems to always appreciate every small step you take, and you feel good in that pride. 

“No, I know how hard some things are for you. And even if I want you to get better, I would never force you into anything. And it’s… it just means so much to me that you did all of this for me. I mean, for you too, but you started planning months before, you proposed to invite my family over for me. And trust me, I know that our house is still a sacred safe place for you, and you still don’t easily let people in, but you let them. And letting them in is probably scarier than when you let me in back then. But you did it, because you know how much I love my family and how much I love this month and this celebration, and what you did means everything to me.” 

You chuckle, pushing back some tears because you don’t want to cry. “You gave me the strength to do it. I couldn’t stay anchored to the past any longer, it was now or never. If I started hating the holidays even with you by my side, it would’ve been the end of it all. I… once I start relating negative experiences with something I never stop doing that. As much I loved the way the Suhs invited me over in the past years, I knew I couldn’t take another pity-Christmas-dinner. We should have one with them too one day, maybe, but no more pity, I can’t take it anymore.” 

Haechan smiles, caressing your face. “You were different when we ate at Johnny’s last time, I think his parents saw that too. And they weren’t walking on eggshells anymore. Let’s be honest, with you it’s not eggshells, it’s bombs, so I can’t blame them.” 

A soft laugh rolls off your tongue as your head falls against his chest, but the lighthearted moment comes to an end when a veil of sadness falls on your face. 

“Something wrong?” 

You shake your head. “No, I just realized some things.” 

“About you?” 

“About you,” you say. “I feel I will never be able to make you understand how much you changed my life for the better. And I know that in your eyes I sound so dramatic at times, but…” you sigh, eyes falling on the white sheets before meeting his curious gaze again. “But you mean so much to me, and you taught me everything I had forgotten with time. I used to go on with my days, but I didn’t fully live them. I was constantly afraid: of failing, of hurting someone, even killing someone, so I didn’t love, I didn’t feel. All my emotions in the past years were felt by a 30%, just to fool myself that if I didn’t give, if I didn’t put myself out there, I was safe, and… looking back at it now, it sucked.” You stop again, trying to give an order to your thoughts, and Haechan gets it. He doesn’t talk, he waits and listens. Haechan listens. To your words. To your cries. But most importantly to your silence. Because with you, at times, it says much more than words. 

“Somehow, I had died with him that day. Not physically, but I was quick to kill myself to punish myself for what happened. And then you brought me back to life. I was so scared with you because now I… I can die again. Now I have something to lose, I have so much to lose, and it should be scary, but I weirdly feel at peace. I know it doesn’t look like it, but I notice it because I scheme for the little things now, and just let life wash over me. I don’t want control of the bigger picture, I can direct the behind-the-scenes, I guess,” you joke, and he laughs too. His face is relaxed, and it feels good to be an open book, to have no fear of opening up and fearing that the other will leave. “Your mom told me something that made me think of this. As long as we’ll have each other’s back, it won’t be as scary. And this would be scary too if I felt that one of us wasn’t 100% sure of this relationship but, I don’t know, I have the impression that we might want to be in this for a long time.” 

Haechan chuckles, and then nods, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I like ‘for a long time’. It’s stable but not forever. Let’s be honest, would I want to date you even in the afterlife? Nah, come on, give me a break at least there.” 

You laugh and then wrap an arm around his torso. “Just two dates with other ghosts, and then you’re coming back to me.” 

“Yeah, fine,” he huffs, but his voice is filled with irony, and then his lips are on yours again. 

“Be honest, was the lasagna that good, or did they fake it?” You ask with a furrow on your forehead, still tangled in the hug. 

Haechan laughs. “Oh my god, I gave you a mind-blowing orgasm and you’re still thinking about that? But yeah, it was good, if it was bad, you would’ve seen it in their faces. They loved it, and they love you.” 

The conversation doesn’t die there, but shifts from funny moments you had yesterday and the plans you have for the days to come. Then you realize you haven’t texted Johnny and his family a Merry Christmas yet; you could’ve done it in the morning, but you were used to waiting at midnight together and even if it’s almost 3 am, you still want to do it to somehow keep your tradition alive. 

You grab your phone, and write him a text, finishing it with the promise you’ll also be calling him tomorrow. You have so many things to tell him, you know it’s going to be a long call in the morning as you prepare everything for lunch. And right before you’re about to lock the screen again, Haechan stops you. 

“Wait, wait, wait, what? Who’s that?” He says, pointing at the name of a contact and you laugh. “Why are you laughing? What’s funny? My pathetic loser?”

“With a heart at the end,” you add, showing him the phone. “It’s you by the way.” 

Haechan gasps offended, but you see it’s all an act and he’s just curious to know why you have him saved like that. “Really? I’m a loser? A pathetic loser?” 

“No, you’re my pathetic loser,” you correct him.  

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, wow, that makes me feel better,” he jokes. 

“Well, it’s how I saved you when I got your number three years ago.” 

His eyes widen even more, and you’re not sure he’s completely faking it. “And couldn’t change it to something more romantic over the years?” 

“This is the romantic version. At first, you weren’t mine, just the cheesy, annoying, simpy, guy Johnny tried to make me hook up with, but now, you are the cheesy, annoying, simpy, love of my life.” 

He groans, ripping the pillow from under his head to hide his face and scream in it and you laugh at his reaction. “And then I’m the cheesy, romantic one!” He points out and you only shrug. 

“I can change it if you don’t like it,” you say, snuggling closer to him, pulling the pillow away to kiss his jawline and caress his hair back, soft and long, framing his face perfectly. 

“Are you kidding? I love it,” he says, pulling you on top of him, and kissing you. 

“Good, I’m glad you like it, my pathetic loser.” 

It’s late, but you can’t stop talking, tangled up in the sheets, after slipping back into your comfy pajamas, peeing, and leaving the shower for the morning. You tell him the stories you didn’t say today, and he tells you some others his family doesn’t know, and just when the clock hits 4, sleep starts to take over. The soft caresses on your back and his warm body close to yours lull you into a comfortable sleep.

It’s Christmas, you’re in Haechan’s arms, wearing matching pajamas, and your hearts are beating as one. Today will be another long day, but you’re confident it will be amazing, and what’s left of your fears won’t eat you up. They don’t matter, the past doesn’t matter, there’s only one thing that matters now. 

There are only three rules left: be alive, love, and be loved. 

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo ; @yellowgirllsblog

hits different taglist: @adorejaehyn​ ; @matchahyuck​ ; @jjhmk ; @ourbeautifulaffair​ ; @what-the-jams :​ @oleoleniall ;​ @kundann ; @bbagu​ ; @ismileeprnc-responder​ ; @produmads​ ; @zkdlllin ;​ @yesohhsehun​ ; @aliceinwhateverland ;​ @strangevante​ 

taglist with some people that interacted under HD (i hope this doesn’t bother you, just thought you might’ve liked being tagged since you showed love to the first one): @rjtulips ; @lmnhead ; @girlwholoveslpreppyattire ; @lovingvoidgoatee ; @brownsugarbaybee ; @canknot ; @adollsblog ; @ch1llkill ; @bacons-thighs ; @emptynote ; @addyanm ; @marklovexs ; @softieehcficrecs ; @brightestmark ; @jyanigoth ; @haechskies ; @rum-gone-why ; @melloworm ; @cheolctrl ; @taegr0wls ; @onlyseokmins ; @xtrataerrestrial ; @222brainrot ; @johnny-sassville ; @ujisworld ; @cup1dton ; @21497s ; @slushhie ; @sakamoto-hey ; @uyukyeom

taglist with people that interacted with the post: @harrypinks ; cont in comments

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#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #haechan fluff #lee haechan fluff #haechan hard hours #haechan scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut

[moon7jay]

omg I'm so in love with the way you write 💖

can you write first time with jungwon but his girlfriend is a bit traumatized by men cause of her bad experience? we really need gentleman jungwon yaay

I rarely write soft sex so bear with me if this isn't as good anon 🫡

DELICATE (y.jw)

MINORS DNI

Warnings : mentions of trauma, panic attack, smut, ig that's all?

Your mind went blank upon hearing the glass bottle crash on the floor, no longer intact it was shattered into pieces with the perfume it held inside gone to complete waste as the expensive fluid seeped into the carpet.

your hands shook as u heard jungwon's voice calling for u from the other room, your throat tightened and your vision started to become hazy, terror filling up your body, freezing it from inside out. You stayed rooted to your place, your heartbeat sounding too loud in your ears as u heard jungwon's footsteps get closer to where u were.

Panic was beginning to overtake u, your mouth gone dry and hold tightening on the dust cloth you were holding in your hands. Your eyes began to water and it was becoming difficult to breathe

"Baby what was that noise? You okay? " Jungwon's voice sounded muffled to you with the blood rushing to your brain. You looked up at him with distraught eyes as your boyfriend finally noticed the shattered perfume bottle.

His perfume bottle, to be precise.

"I-im so sorry, sorry j-jungwon I'm so s-sorry,it was an a-accident"

his head snapped up at hearing your trembling voice, taking in your shaking figure he took a step forward towards u. This action made u flinch, your trauma induced reflex working faster than u could comprehend, bringing two hands in front of you to protect yourself from the oncoming strike as you let the dust cloth fall to the floor and shrinking yourself in size as u begged for forgiveness.

Jungwon was stunned. What the fuck.

He halted his advance towards u instantly upon seeing how terrified u actually were of him. At the same time, he couldn't just stand there while u sobbed on your own. He slowly approached your crouched figure and took your hands softly in his own, removing them from the front of your face, revealing your tear stained cheeks, terrified eyes looking up at him to gauge his next move.

"I'm not going to hurt you baby" He whispered in a soothing tone, hoping it would bring u back. He wanted to puke. Seeing you like this was something he didn't want even in his worst nightmare. You thought he was gonna hit you? You? his sweet little love? he felt an insane urge to scream

Your form stayed frozen, quiet sobs and sniffles coming from your mouth as u stared into his love filled eyes. He loved you. This was your jungwon. He would never hurt you.

"I-ill buy u another, i-i promise I'm so s-sorry, please" u started crying again, fear overtaking all your senses, just the thought that he could stop loving you or leave u over ur stupid mistakes made you cry harder. Why were u such a loser, no wonder your ex didn't love you, no wonder he called you worthless, all u did was destroy things.

"Hey hey hey, look at me y/n, look at me baby-his warm hands cupped your wet face, breaking your inner monologue-i don't care ok? I don't care about that stupid perfume bottle, u can break hundreds of them, here, break this one too I don't give a single fuck"

He grabbed another expensive perfume bottle from his collection behind you and handed it to you

"Just stop crying, I love you, nothing matters more than u y/n, nothing, do u believe me baby? " He asked exasperatedly, his own eyes filling up with moisture just thinking about how deep your past suffering must be for you to react this way. His thumbs continually swiped under your eyes as warm moisture kept seeping from your eyes. But u were beginning to quiet down, nodding slowly,your body had stopped trembling and jungwon took this as a cue to finally wrap your heaving form in his arms. God you were so small, he felt a raging urge to hurt whoever had dared to damage your self esteem in such a drastic way.

He sighed in relief when he felt your arms coming up to wrap around his neck, burying your face in his chest, sniffing quietly.

Jungwon realized that day that you were someone very delicate and fragile at heart. the fact that you had given him the privilege of coming so close to u even after all that u had been through, he thanked his lucky stars for that. You were his baby and he swore to always treat u in a way that would give u no chance of experiencing that hurt ever again.

His hands tightened around your warm, soft body, kissing your head and whispering sweet nothings in your ears, letting u know that he loved you.

your giggles were like music to his ears, watching you like this was something he could do all day, just listening to you talk about random things and adding his own jokes here and there, making you laugh and hit his shoulder. This was all he wanted. You were all he wanted. and damn did he want u so bad.

He could not focus on what you were saying as his gaze pivoted to your delicious lips, he needed a taste and he needed a taste right now. He leaned towards you and cupped your cheek in his palm. you stopped mid sentence and stared into his eyes nervously, his face was inches from yours and the proximity was making u fidget.

"I want to kiss u baby, please tell me u want that too" He whispered and watched in amusement as you blushed profusely and gave him a small shy smile. A small nod from you was all he needed to capture your tempting lips in his own. The kiss started off as soft, but your taste was addicting as he delved further into your mouth, pressing his tongue against your lips, biting softly on your lower one which made u gasp in his mouth, giving him the chance to protrude his tongue into your warm mouth. Your taste was addicting, he reached deeper, licking into your warm cavity with passion. Your hands fisted the couch material that u were sitting on. The kiss felt so good. You had never been kissed with such want before. you were trying your best to return his passion by tangling your tongue with his own when all of a sudden you felt his other hand beginning to slip under your tank top, caressing your naked skin. Jungwon felt your body stiffen underneath his touch and he stopped his movements immediately, pulling back from the kiss. He heard your sharp inhale before he saw the tears gathering in your eyes. He immediately cupped your face "baby what's wrong, did I make u uncomfortable? " He asked softly, trying to understand your boundaries regarding physical touch.

He knew physical touch didn't come easy to you, it was something you struggled with on the daily and you and jungwon had come a long way from the first day when u flinched even from feeling him hold your hand and now u were wrapped around him like a koala everyday. There was progress and he didn't want to ruin it.

"I-im sorry, I don't know what happened" u whispered, a few tear drops rolling down your eyes. This was your jungwon, he would never do anything to hurt u, u reminded yourself. He cooed and shushed you, kissing your tears away

"It's okay baby, I'm willing to wait for u for however long it takes, do u understand me? " He asked and u nodded. Your arms came up to wrap around his neck and u stared deep into his eyes guiltily

"I don't want you to think that I don't want you, because I do " u whispered but jungwon shook his head, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

"Never. and I mean it y/n. Never do something u don't wanna do just because u want to spare my feelings. I love you and I would never forgive myself if I ever became the person u have been running from till now"

His words made u tear up and u buried your head in the crook of his neck. U don't remember for how long he whispered sweet confessions and how proud of you he was in your ear until u eventually drifted off to sleep in his arms.

You loved kissing jungwon. And u guessed he loved kissing you too because everytime u both were in a close proximity, his mouth was on yours, desperately making out. But the more time you spent in your boyfriend's arms with his tongue in your mouth the more your desire for him deepened. Your thighs desperately rubbing against each other, trying to get some sort of relief from the burning feeling between your legs.

And u knew that jungwon saw it too, u had seen how he would break the kiss to look down at your rubbing thighs and his eyes would darken and he would kiss you harder, messier. But he never dared cross your boundaries even once. His hands staying respectfully above your clothes, caressing your sides or holding your face, never venturing to touch the parts of you that u hadn't given him permission to touch yet.

And you were beginning to feel so safe around him. Jungwon was your safe place, your safe haven. so different from your past. so loving that u weren't used to being desired this way.

His every action screamed his adoration for you, making you gasp at how someone like him could want someone like you. And as much as he wanted you, he respected you. So much so that he taught u how to respect yourself and your emotions.

u weren't used to that. u weren't used to this. and even though everything was new to u and there were so many new feelings to process, you were sure about one thing. u wanted to give yourself to jungwon. u wanted to feel him intimately.

"um, wonie? " your hesitant voice captured your boyfriend's attention from where he was sitting working on his laptop, atop the couch

"Yeah sweetheart?" He asked u, his eyes looking at your figure sitting in the middle of the bed in nothing but his shirt. you blushed at the nickname and played with the hem of his shirt, making it ride further up your thighs. Your breathing became heavier when u saw how jungwon was ogling at your exposed thighs. One thing about your boyfriend was that he might not be able to touch u with his hands but his eyes were always caressing you every which way. His eyes and lust filled gaze were the reason it had been so difficult for u to control your desires from spiralling like this.

"Do u want to kiss?" u asked shyly, this was the first time u had taken initiative in matters like this

You almost laughed upon watching how fast your boyfriend was shutting down his laptop and sprinting to come close to you on the bed

He made u lie down on your back as he hovered over you, this was the first time u had been underneath him and u could tell that jungwon liked the view

"U know I always wanna kiss u baby, always wanna taste you" He whispered before lowering himself and capturing your lips in his own. You wrapped your arms around his neck, opening your mouth to make way for his tongue, slowly sucking on it, making him groan into your mouth. The sound reached straight between your legs and u were pulling away from the kiss to stare into jungwon's eyes. His panting breaths falling on your face

"Can-can we.. " u trailed off under his intense gaze, suddenly feeling too shy to tell him what u wanted. He sensed that as he bent down to kiss your nose

"Hey, tell me" His soft voice filled with absolute adoration made u more confident

"can we-can we try something new today? " u said, ur eyes looking for a reaction on his face, you bit ur lip when he smirked in shock and joy.

"Yeah? U wanna try something new baby?"

U nodded, pressing yourself closer to his body hovering over yours

"want u so bad won, please take me" u whispered at him and his jaw clenched.

Jungwon cursed under his breath and bent down to suck on the delicate skin of your neck

"Fuck u drive me insane y/n" He whispered, his hands moving down to caress your thighs, a sharp gasp leaving your mouth at his touch but before he could pull his hands away u were holding his hand there by urs.

"I'm okay, I'm okay I promise wonie" u assured him. His grip tightened on the soft flesh of your thighs at your words and he started caressing your flesh.

A sigh escaped from your lips upon feeling his touch, his touch made u feel safe, it didn't make u wanna run away. U closed your eyes and tangled your fingers in his hairs as he sucked small love bites throughout the length of your neck, his palms caressing every inch of naked skin they could find, finally getting the opportunity to grope your pretty body.

His pulled away to gather your shirt on your abdomen, revealing your panties underneath. You heard him curse some profanities while he pushed up the shirt further up your body, revealing your naval which made u bite your lower lip. His fingers prodded at your naval and he looked up at you with a hooded gaze

"Can i? " He asked, his voice heavy with lust and u nodded without asking him what he meant. U just knew that u were ready for whatever it was that he wanted to do. That's the reason why u were caught off gaurd when he started licking your naval, rolling his tongue around the skin of your abdomen, just licking your flesh, making out with it. You fisted the sheets around your head as he continued his ministrations. It felt so good.

His hands reached at the back of your bra and he was asking for your permission again. Soon enough u were left in just your panties, sweet moans filling the bedroom as your boyfriend kept sucking and groaning around your nipples, his hands rubbing over your slit from above your panties. Your fingers were buried in his hairs, pushing him further into ur flesh.

"J-jungwon, please, please" u begged for your boyfriend's touch, feeling your body burning, getting flushed with wanton desire

Jungwon came up to bite your lower lip and groaned at how wet you were, your slick beginning to ooze out from where he was rubbing u over your lace underwear.

"Gonna give u everything u want baby, ask me" he whispered and u moaned at the way his fingers were still pressing on your clit.

"I-inside, won please" you were too far lost into your desire to feel shy any longer. Jungwon looked at you with want, making u drip more. He watched your pretty body heaving and squirming underneath him and his inner beast growled to take and take.

But the way your big, innocent eyes were still fidgeting, his heart felt full of love for you. you were quite literally his everything

"R u sure y/n? We don't have to do this right now, I promise" he kissed your cheek, even though you could feel his hard on pressing against your thighs. You shook your head and kissed him deeply

"I'm sure, I've never been so sure about anything before baby, please make me yours" You whined and jungwon almost came in his pants at the pornographic sounds u were letting out.

Jungwon wanted to eat you out, but the bulge in his pants was starting to hurt, he needed to be wrapped inside your soft and warm pussy folds soon. He lifted himself off of you and finally unbuckled his pants, running his hungry eyes all over your panting figure as he got rid of all his clothes. God he had imagined u like this, naked and pliant underneath him on his bed a lot of fucking times but the real deal was a thousand times better.

You gasped upon seeing his hardened cock and u unconsciously rubbed your thighs together

"That's so big" u moaned and jungwon nodded

"worried it isn't gonna fit sweetheart?"

seeing u nod in worry had him chuckling. He hovered back over your body and inserted his tongue in your mouth while his fingers finally slipped aside your panties and started rubbing your clit in the earnest, swallowing your sinful moans.

Your hands tangled themselves in his locks again and u tugged hard when he inserted a finger in you experimentally, moaning softly

"Fuck, you're fucking soaking baby, so fucking hot" He whispered in your mouth as u continued to squirm and take his fingers in you. One became two , two became three and soon enough you were a blabbering mess, your wet walls clenching around his fingers, making him curse. Jungwon's tongue was tangled with yours when he decided to pull his fingers out of you, bringing the slick coated hand in between your kissing mouths, making you suck and lick on your own wetness while he did the same. Exchanging saliva and your wetness while u both made out messily.

"Taste so good baby, u're driving me crazy" Jungwon groaned, pulling back from your mouth and finally tugging at his cock. Groaning at the momentary relief, precum oozing out of it's slit, just turned on beyond belief. He ran his cockhead over your pussy, bumping your clit with his dick, making u gasp and moan, your hands fisting the sheets as you prepared yourself for the intrusion

"Ready? " He asked, his eyes looked loving as they stared at you, asking for your consent again and it made u fall in love a little harder with him. You nodded with a faint smile and he smiled back at you, coming back to kiss u deeply and lovingly, intertwining his one hand with yours, holding it beside your head while with the other he guided his cock inside of you, finally breaching your entrance in one thrust, swallowing up your screams.

Your hands came up to dig your nails into his shoulders as jungwon pulled out and thrust right back in. snapping his hips against yours with passion. You both stared into each other's eyes, panting and moaning into each other's mouth as he made love to you, your bodies brimming with pleasure

"Feels good yeah?" He groaned, hitting your cervix head on, his cockhead reaching that spot inside of you which made your mouth fall open, too lost in the pleasurable stimulation. u could only nod, bringing him down to kiss you again. Your thighs were covered in your leaking juices, the squelching sounds making it impossible for u to hide your desire. u were impossibly wet

The room was quite except for the skin slapping noises that your lust filled bodies were making, your hips chasing his hips, trying to grind back and moaning out your ecstasy. The tight, wet grip of your pussy around his shaft was making jungwon hungry, hungry for more and he started going deeper in you,wrapping your thigh around his waist. His thrusts remained slow but deep, stroking your insides, making you throb and clench.

Groans and whimpers of pleasure filled the room, whispers of "baby more" and "so good" being exchanged between the passionate sex. This was heaven.

"I love you" u whimpered as you felt yourself unraveling on his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, making him groan at how u deliciously clenched around him, pushing him closer to his own high

"I love u so much baby, your pussy feels so good" He moaned capturing your lips again, fucking you through your orgasm, his hips snapping faster and harder

Needles to say, jungwon took u slow and deep all night long, u both not getting enough of mating and grinding, using your hips to pleasure each other. He fucked u. No.

He made love to you.

He made love to you like u were something delicate, something precious that he needed to handle with care.

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen smut #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enha #yang jungwon #jungwon smut #jungwon

[oikasugayama]

BSD MEN AS BOYFRIENDS pt. 1

pt. 1 Dazai, Kunikida, Atsushi, and Chuuya. pt. 2 Ango, Ranpo, Poe GN!reader!! Smut in Atsushi and Chuuya's, minor angst in Dazai's

Dazai

Dazai does not use petnames. He does not like them. He will not call you a nickname. He uses nicknames to tease and belittle people or to charm and persuade them. He's not manipulating you into liking him or wanting him. You've come to like him all on your own and he realized when you confessed to him that shit he likes you too.

Contrary to popular belief, Dazai has never been in a proper relationship. He's hooked up with people he's met at bars, paid for sex, maybe even had a FWB before but he's never wanted to put someone at risk by opening his heart to them. When he was in the Mafia he just wasn't able to feel like he can now in the ADA. (That's the trauma, babyyyyy) It's taken him a long time to be able to recognize that maybe he IS human, maybe he does want human things like companionship and love. 

You're special to him. He lets you lead the way entirely. Every move made in your relationship is up to you. That's not to say that he doesn't plan dates or initiate intimacy--he does!!--but when it comes to big stages he makes sure you're still doing what YOU want to do and not just doing what HE wants. He's so used to manipulating and controlling people that he's afraid to do it to you so your presence makes him far more self reflective than he has been before. You call him your boyfriend before he calls you his girlfriend. You say you love him first and he says it twice as often now. He treats you with so much respect he's almost formal. He just thinks you're so incredible for being able to love someone like him. It blows his mind every time you smile at him with adoration sparkling in your eyes. He knows you mean it and that scares him sometimes.

He's a bit messy. He may break up with you once or twice, or try to "take a break" because he scares himself into thinking he doesn't deserve you and is better off dead or just alone. You understand that he's hurting far more than he lets on and you love him SO much so you never let him disappear, you always get him to come back. You know he's human. It's the best part about him.

Kunikida

He's a good boyfriend if you meet him AFTER everyone made fun of his "ideal girlfriend" list and some of the girls in his office taught him that love should be spontaneous and special and not something you plan out to the letter. If you meet him before that, even if you're a great person, he won't give you the time of day.

Though he gives up on the concept of an ideal partner, he does still think that he isn't interested in being in a relationship until he's 26. That is, until you come along.

He knows what it's like to be challenged--he works with Dazai's dumb ass every day--but you challenge him in a way he LIKES. You so innocently tilt your head and ask "why" when he says something must be done in the ideal way, and he doesn't have it in him to scold you for wasting his time. He explains things to you and offers to help whenever you need something. You're so polite and genuinely nice and helpful to him where you can be, so he returns the sentiment tenfold. 

You get him off schedule one day by telling him a story of the last place you worked and he's so enthralled that he starts asking you questions and sharing some of his own work stories-- before he knows it, almost an hour has passed. You apologize and let him go back to work, but all he can think is that he doesn't want you to go away.

He courts you very properly. He waits until you're off the clock and away from the office to ask you on a date. He tells you he likes you and respects you and will never bring it up again if this makes you uncomfortable -- you say yes before he can give any more disclaimers.

He brings you somewhere you've mentioned wanting to go, makes sure you give you a little gift for saying yes to dating him, and he's very kind and gentlemanly the whole night. He even asks before holding your hand while walking you home and before kissing your cheek at the end of the night. 

He keeps work and home VERY separate so even when Dazai notices that Kunikida seems more relaxed and happy and tries to pry the information out of him, Kunikida never tells anyone that you're dating. If it gets around the office, it's because you were talking about your boyfriend with Naomi and she pieced together that it was Kunikida, and she told Junichiro, and he mentions it to Atsushi who tells Kyouka and then everyone knows eventually. Not that it really matters. Once the initial chatter dies down after a few days, everything is back to normal 

Atsushi

NERVOUS CLINGY INSECURE 

We all know this. Almost everyone makes him a nervous boyfriend. Or a clingy one. It's because he IS.

He's afraid to introduce you to his coworkers because he thinks they're all more attractive and more talented and more interesting than him. You have to reassure him over and over that you aren't going to leave him and that it's not nice for him to think you'd boyfriend hop just because someone else came along. That's often how you have to make him calm down: ask if his insecurity is a reflection of you or your actions. He quickly realizes each time that no, you're right, he's projecting. 

He LOVES cuddling. He gets cold very easily given how skinny he is. His favorite evening activity is laying in bed with you under blankets after having a hot meal. If he can crawl into the same sweater you're wearing he'll do it. Sometimes he just sticks his head under your shirt and lays his head on your chest to get warm. Or he'll put his hands in your pockets to keep them warm. He will siphon all of your body heat.

Speaking of heat... 👀🥵 Atsushi loves cockwarming. There, I said it!! He loves it!! He'll mewl in your ear all pretty and overstimulated while you play on your phone or read or book and he's trying to keep still because the point wasn't to keep having sex it was to just enjoy feeling connected to you but God it's so HOT he can't believe you let him inside your body ALL THE TIME!! WHENEVER HE WANTS???? his whole body burns and tingles with literal warmth but also love and some embarrassment at working himself up so much. He's blushing and squirming and there always comes a point where he can't take it anymore and he presses you down into the bed and fucks you. He can be rough sometimes, especially if he isn't focusing on keeping his tiger abilities under wraps, but you swear to him you think it's hot for him to manhandle you and hold you down and fuck the shit out of you. It often takes some convincing to get him to let himself go and actually do it. 

Chuuya

A GENTLEMAN you cannot tell me he isn't a great boyfriend

Chuuya is amazing at compartmentalizing. There's a chance you don't even know he's in the Port Mafia when you start dating him. He's just a tough punk guy who holds the door open for you and brings you huge, BEAUTIFUL bouquets every time he sees you, and says sweet nothings to you when you're alone. 

Eventually you ask him where he works in an incredibly casual way because you expect it's something like a garage or a business office, but when he kinda clams up and asks "you don't know?" you give him a confused look and he gets NERVOUS. He doesn't want you to leave him, he's so worried all of a sudden realizing that you don't KNOW what he does and how you're in danger just for being associated with him. 

He finally tells you and swears that you're safe, he'll always protect you, and so will his connections. You honestly have to take a minute to think about it but then you nod and say it's fine, you've always felt safe with him and you didn't know before so you'll just keep pretending you don't know. "Just please don't tell me any of the details, I don't want to know."

When Chuuya leaves for long missions he texts and calls you almost every night from random phone numbers (some public phones, some burner phones). He always lets you know he's okay and tells you how much he misses you. He's not afraid of a bit of dirty talk and sending some spicy pictures when he's able to have a phone somewhere in private 🥵

Speaking of sex, he's very adventurous. He'll fuck you anywhere, any time. He always thinks you look good no matter what, but when you look ESPECIALLY good like when you wear his favorite color with your hair pulled away from your face, god he can't keep his hands off you. You could be walking through a grocery store and he'd be pressing you against a shelf and muttering in your ear how he could take you right here and no one would dare stop him. He also likes to hold you up when you fuck, doesn't matter if you have something to lean on or how much you weigh (I hc Chuuya LOVES big women and thinks anyone who doesn't is a coward). Chuuya can manipulate gravity, he's holding you every which way and getting the exact angle he wants. 

#bsd headcanons #dazai x reader #Chuuya x reader #Kunikida x reader #Atsushi x reader #bsd x reader #Chuuya x reader smut #Atsushi x reader smut