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neowinestainedress · 7 days

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𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: “horror”, thriller, yandere-ish, smut, halloween special, scream!au 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again. Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: dark content, talks of [m*rders, sl!tting throats, v!olent stuff in general], dr*g/anaesthetic use [to make mc fall asleep but unrelated to any sexu*l act (she’s awake and willing)], mentions of [dubcon] phone s*x + masturbation, implied stalking, use of restrainers, cl!t rubbing, rough t!t/n!pple play, protected s*x turns unprotected, kn!fe play, ‘fear’ play, clothes cutting, fake sympathy, pet names used in a mocking way, degradation, rough s*x, hair pulling, spit (1), p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, possessiveness, 1 brief talk of carving, polaroids pictures, all consensual but i’ll still put a dubcon warning just to be safe (tbh it’s more like hate sex bc the mc would rip his head off but also fuck him), reader is kinda fucked up herself. | inclusivity notes: reader has hair long enough that can be pulled (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type but reader is manhandled a few times and has b**bs and *ss big enough that can be cupped, no mention of skin color, no use of y/n 𝐖𝐂: 10.662k 𝐀/𝐍: this year i had vague ideas for halloween but not even a defined good one, i had some suggestions i liked but were far too complicated, and i had no energy to write them in time. but a ghostface/scream au was an idea i had in mind for some time, the original was a ghostface cosplay, but then i went with this one, and I’m happy with how it turned out. i had 2 members in mind (johnny/haechan) for the og plot, then someone suggested jeno and jisung (as a duo) but if i unmasked him the plot wouldn’t have made sense anymore, so he’s whoever you want him to be! the other ghostface is mentioned but doesn’t appear physically in the story, you can pick who you want for him too. i never wrote blankly for the male mc so let me know if it was good. please, if you like it, leave feedback through reblogs or asks! and also let me know who you imagined behind the mask 👀 enjoy and happy halloween

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄.

Your mother always told you to mind your business or else your curiosity was going to be the death of you one day.

It’s clear you never treasured her words, and your curiosity led you to be a private detective with only a few thrills in your life since now, nothing too exciting ever happened in your small town, until one day you received a phone call from the district of Woodsboro. A string of murders was terrorizing the town after years and all the evidence led to another psycho who thought it was funnier to kill people while putting on a Ghostface mask.

Months have passed since that call and you have nothing concrete. It’s like he’s only messing up with you and, in the meantime, innocent people keep dying. But you have your theories, the ones you only keep to yourself, stored away in the privacy of your diary, hidden under the pillow of your bed. Your colleagues seem decent people, but with time, you’ve learned to trust nobody.

And your secret theories led you right where you are now. In the open country, away from the small town, where a small barn grabbed your attention the first time you moved to Woodsboro.

The barn seems empty but eerie vibes surround it. The strong smell of the grass stings your nose as your black boots walk on the muddy ground, the rain of this morning still lingering in the air and in the countryside.

When you reach the perimeter, you squeeze your eyes to see inside, but the few tiny windows don’t allow you a big view. The more you walk around it to make sure it’s empty, the more the hold on your concealed carry with the gun inside tightens.

It’s late October and the cold penetrates your brown leather jacket, but the temperature is not the thing that makes you shiver.

You should’ve never followed your instinct and come here alone. You should’ve spoken to somebody else in the department, told them your theory and have some backup in this crazy plan of yours. But when your impulses take over, your smartness slips away, and you find yourself in the worst situations ever.

Like right now. You stand in front of the wooden door and find the courage to push it open. You should feel thrilled, you found him. You found the psycho that has been haunting the town for months now, messing up with you with clues and mocks that pushed you farther away from the right path. Yet, you beat him, for once it looks like you have the upper hand now that you’re walking around the empty barn away from the town. But something doesn’t feel right, your guts are telling you something but you don’t listen, you can’t walk away now that you’re so close.

There’s not much to inspect, a few pieces of furniture, a disheveled mattress in the middle of the room, and a few chairs in a corner. It almost looks like an abandoned farm if only it wasn’t for the unnerving vibes that carries with it and for two walls that call your attention. On the right, there’s a map of Woodsboro, pins linked by a red thread, connecting all the places where Ghostface hit in these past months. Your hand quickly reaches the back of your pocket to pull out your phone and snap a picture, hoping there will also be places he didn’t go, and this time you can be faster at stopping him.

What’s on the other side is worse.

“What the fuck…” you mumble under your breath as you step closer to the wall. Polaroid pictures hanging from it, Ghostface and the victims, you guess, moments before they were brutally killed. You’re not surprised, one of the gifts he would leave on the scene of the crime being Polaroids, but they didn’t make much sense. “He’s a fucking psycho,” you scoff as you take another picture.

“Surpriiise!!”

Your phone falls on the floor with a loud thud and your heart jumps in your throat when his voice breaks the deafening silence in the room, but your reflections are swift enough to make you reach for your gun and turn around, shooting.

“Boo, fail,” Ghostface laughs, hitting your wrist hard enough to make the gun fall on the floor next to your phone. “You’re really not as smart as I thought you were, don’t you know intruding on someone else’s property is illegal?” he points out, pushing your body against the wall, the sharp blade of his knife grazing the skin of your neck.

You try to keep calm, deep slow breaths as you try to don’t look scared for your life. You might die today, but you won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Don’t look so frightened, my dear. I’m quite happy to have you all to myself,” he chuckles, his hand lifts to caress your face and you struggle to avoid it, but the click of his tongue makes you stop. “I wouldn’t act too careless, it’s sharp.”

You stop moving. You are smart, and you can get yourself out of this situation. “Do you want to play a game, Ghostface?” You ask, ignoring his taunts, the irony in your voice is clear, just like it’s blatant in the slow bat of your eyelashes, but your words only make him laugh.

“Oh, that’s not how it works, detective. That’s my line. You didn’t study the script?”

You scoff, trying to take time to free yourself. “We’re switching roles. Do you want to play a game? It’s called you turn yourself in and I put you in jail.”

He snickers, and his head tilts to have a better look at your face. He’s had many people in this position before and never saw so little fear in their eyes. “Now you want to act like you don’t love the chase?”

“Fuck you, I don’t love it,” you spit out, narrowing your eyes, desperately trying to get a glimpse of anything under the mask. Another failed attempt.

He laughs darkly, so deep it hits you to the core and makes you shiver — in fear or excitement, you’ll let this decide to your better judgment. “I know you do,” he coos as his thumb covered with the black glove caresses your lips. “Enjoy the little clues I leave you around? You were interested in the pictures, I knew you loved them, that’s why you get the prettiest ones. I tell you so much, but you don’t understand me,” his voice is calm, scarily calm, and full of sarcasm filled with a sweetness that feels like a slap across your face. “I was a bit mad it took you so long to find me.”

Rage shoots up inside of you, but you instantly push it down, you can’t lose your composure. “So, what are you going to do, kill me?” Your voice drops of a tone, and your eyes turn into a teasing gaze, making him chuckle.

“Talking about death so nonchalantly with me, mmh… are you brave or dumb? Because if you ask so nicely, I just might let the knife sink in.”

You laugh lightheartedly, putting up the best performance of your life before your eyes flutter seducingly at him. “No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,” you coo, lips in a pout and innocence in your eyes, until you hit him with a swift, strong kick between his legs, the distraction of your performance giving you time to slip to the side, causing just a bit of your skin to cut and bleed.

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he kneels to the ground. You reach for your gun, but barely have time to grab it before he pushes you on the floor again. “We were having so much fun, you just have to ruin everything.”

You’re waiting for the worst when he traps you on the floor with his body on yours, but his arms don’t lift to stab you in your chest or stomach, the last thing you see before passing out is his hand lifting in the air and the sting of a needle pushing past your skin.

The white light of the room feels like staring directly at the sun when your eyes blink repeatedly as you try to come back to earth and push away the hammering of your headache. You groan hoarsely, trying to adjust to the light, but the biggest discomfort comes from your shoulders, pushed behind your back and around the chair you’re now sitting on.

“Sorry, I had to tie you up, but you’re a bit feisty today. Didn’t want you to get hurt,” Ghostface replies to your silent questions — not so silent, considering how loud you’re groaning and struggling on the chair, trying to break free. He’s standing in front of you, but a chair is right behind him so you guess he was sitting there before you woke up.

“You can’t even take one down without a fight? Need to kill me without breaking a sweat?” You taunt, eyes dark and a deep frown on your forehead.

But your teasing seems to leave him unfazed as he walks toward you with a glass in hand. “Drink.”

You scoff, staring at him. You hate that you can’t see him, not even because you want to find out who’s hiding under there, but also because you feel like you can’t confront him well enough. “You think I’m so stupid to accept a drink from a psycho?”

His head rolls back followed by an annoyed sigh as he stops right in front of you. His black boots bumping against yours. “You know that’s not how I move, no fun in killing with these shortcuts. Drink. I would never want you to pass out here,” he coos while his free hand pushes your hair out of your face. You can’t see behind the mask, but you know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves the glass to your lips, but you turn to the side, he doesn’t give you a choice when he strongly grips your chin, pushing your lips open, and forces the water down your throat. “Oops, it spilled all over, you’re so messy, detective,” he snickers when water drips on your chin and shirt. As if he didn’t do it on purpose.

“Asshole,” you mutter, eyes closing into fissures while you look at him. His head tilts, “Oh, brave. I could slit your throat right now, add you to the collection.”

You chuckle darkly, shaking your head. “You won’t,” you say firmly. “You’ve never had someone quite as fun as me.”

A low laughter escapes from the mask. “So, you are at least a bit smart?” His hand places on your thigh and you try to move away, but the chair screeches on the floor, and his hold only tightens.

“Don’t play games now. Don’t fake it,” he groans, hand moving up on your blue jeans. “You enjoyed our last conversation,” he whispers, the mask close to your face, so close you can almost see his eyes behind the blackness of the two holes. “Had shivers run down your back when the phone rang in the middle of the night, haven’t you? You sat up straight in your big bed, all alone, and felt fear take over. Never answer unknown numbers. That’s what they say, that’s what you say, running around town, warning everyone about me,” he laughs deeply. “And then look at you, picking up that phone call, eager to hear my voice on the other side.”

“You’re a psycho,” you spit out, struggling against the restrainers. But once again it is an act; he is a psycho, but you are starting to fear you aren’t much different.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I am, never denied that. But don’t act better than me. You stood right in front of that window, stripping for me, touching yourself for me, moaning for me. How fucked up that is?” He snickers. “You have fucked up fantasies, my pretty detective, but I’m not one to judge. I’d gladly help.”

You laugh quietly, trying to look confident but it comes out shaky from your throat, “If you want to help, take the mask off and show me who you are.”

“Wow, wow, darling. Not so soon, I’m not one to burn stages in a relationship. What next? Want to meet my mom?”

You inhale sharply, and spit on him, “God, you’re insane.” Your eyes snap open when he pulls out of his back the sharp knife, your breath is stuck in your throat and fear runs all over your body. And once again you regret how impulsive you are. You did well all these past years of training and then on the first real-life experiences at pushing this side of you in the cage, but it looks like it’s coming out like a beast that’s been trapped too long.

“Don’t be so scared,” he huffs, the fake sympathy in his voice should make you mad but it triggers something else inside of you, and you hate to admit that he might be right, you’re enjoying this more than you should, you’re enjoying this entire chase more than you should. It’s like a game, but it’s not when real people are dying. “I would never hurt you,” his voice is raspy, slightly muffled by the ghost mask he’s wearing, and the knife sits on your sternum. “I hope you didn’t like this shirt too much, detective.”

You don’t have time to react, the steel cuts your shirt neatly, the sound bouncing in the small room and the sharp tip brushing your skin. You shiver, gulping hard and closing your eyes, already feeling the sensation of it cutting through you, but it doesn’t happen.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disappointingly. “You truly don’t trust me. I’m offended, and I don’t like when people offend me. Just like I don’t like when they hang up the phone while we’re playing. If people were respectful, I wouldn’t have to kill them, you know?” You stare at him with a furrow on your face, you’d like to take the mask off and see his eyes, not really to find out who’s hiding underneath that mask, but to see if his gaze is as insane as you imagine it to be.

“Let me go,” you say, the skin of your wrist bruised from the pressure you’re applying against the ropes.

“Don’t struggle too much, it turns me on,” he warns, kneeling at your level. He smiles softly and thinks it’s a pity you can’t see it, you’re just so pretty, with your beautiful face filled with different emotions and your eyes looking at him with a gaze that wants to be threatening but it’s all the opposite, almost making you look like a lost puppy.

“Why?”

“Why? It’s funny to see the victim beg for their life, it makes you feel powerful, you could show mercy, but you don’t,” the smug smile on his hidden face can be heard in his voice and you shiver at how cold he sounds, the shrug of his shoulder is just the cherry on top to his unhinged behaviour.

“So, you’re just going to keep me here?”

“No, I want to play with you. Do you want to play a game, detective?”

Your gaze falls on your thighs where his hand is placed again, the black gloves preventing it from leaving traces behind, as it slowly moves closer to your heat.

You snicker, pretending to play it cool, but your breath twitches at the contact. “’Cause if I said no you would stop?”

“Hey, I’m a killer, not a rapist,” he defends, shrugging. Yet, you still don’t reply, and he doesn’t like that. “So? I’m not so patient when I ask people if they want to play with me, so don’t test me.”

You swallow hard, swiftly looking around to see if you can pull a move on him. Damnit, it’s your chance to get him and throw him in jail but instead, you’re seriously thinking about his proposal. You fool yourself that you’re only doing this because maybe he could slip, maybe he could say something in the heat of the moment that could give you a clue, or he could leave his traces on you somehow, maybe his mask could fall, but you know you’re feeling something else. Attraction.

“I said,” he mutters, his face comes closer to yours, making you pull back, and the knife pushes flat in the hollow of your chest, “do you want to play a game, detective?”

“Yes, yes, I do,” you mutter, starting to breathe again when he pulls the knife away.

“Good, I love playing with you.” His fingers move to unbutton your jeans and then pull the zip down, you look at him attentively. “Lift your hips for me, love?”

You glare at him at the pet name but he only chuckles deeply. “What? If I’m rough with you, you get mad, if I’m sweet with you, you get mad. I can never win, can I?”

You huff, deciding it’s better to not reply and just do as he says. Your pants are quickly at your ankles and suddenly you feel even more trapped than before now that you can’t even move your legs, but his touch on your naked skin takes you away from that thought.

“Pretty panties just for me?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he stares at your burgundy panties with the lace trim. “Were you hoping to find me here so we could finish what we started on the phone?”

“Shut up, this is not for you,” you retort, your forehead creasing with a furrow.

“And who is it for?” He asks, cupping your pussy, watching your body shiver. “Oh, no, please don’t tell me there’s a boyfriend I’m not aware of. I’d hate to kill him.”

You bite your lips and keep the contact with the mask, but words struggle to come out when his index finger starts rubbing on your clit, moving from the slit —where you can feel you’re starting to get wet— to your sensitive nub. “It’s not for you,” you repeat, trying to don’t show how much his touch is affecting you.

“Well, you want me to work so hard too, I’ll have to find out on my own if someone is playing with what’s mine,” he replays nonchalantly. “I know where to find you, maybe I’ll come visit again.”

“You talk so much for someone who wants to play so badly,” you retort, a teasing grin curling your lips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know my princess was so eager,” he replies, saccharine voice filled with mockery, before a harsh slap lands on your pussy making you jolt and whimper. “Want my fingers?”

The glare you give him would be enough to kill him; isn’t this pathetic enough? How much more does he want you to humiliate yourself?

He rolls his head back and then the knife is against your neck again. “Do we have to do this every time I ask you a question? Do you want my fingers, detective?”

“Yes,” you whisper. Your body relaxes momentarily before tensing up with excitement again, but it quickly shifts to disappointment. “What are you doing?” You ask when his covered fingers press against you again.

“Oh, you’ll get the gloves too, I’m not dumb, you know? Don’t leave fingerprints on dead bodies, won’t even leave them on yours,” his voice is smug, all the confidence of someone who didn’t make a wrong move and somehow was always ahead of you and the police department.

You hate him. You hate he’s so much better than you at this. And you hate him even more now that he has you fighting whimpers and moans.

“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t like this while your hips are bucking up?” He taunts, clicking his tongue in a mock. “Think moaning is more pathetic than humping my fingers like a bitch in heat?”

Your mouth opens to retort but you can’t deny the evidence; your hips are rolling against his hand, chasing for more, your panties are darkening as your wetness leaks through the fabric and your chest is heaving in erratic motions.

“Look at me,” he sings, hand moving up to graze your neck, thumb pressing on your carotid, making your head snap up. “You listen so swiftly when you fear for your life. It’s funny, you know, because I truly would never hurt you.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, trying to pull away from his hold when his hand moves up to caress your jaw. The gentleness of his touch is even scarier than when he has his knife pointed against you. “Is this what turns you on? The fear in their eyes?”

His head tilts to the side, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Partially. But not in your case, what turns me on with you it’s the chase, and the fact I always win.”

You scoff bitterly, struggling in his hold but his hand quickly grips your chin and pulls you closer. “Didn’t you see the movies? The villain always dies.”

“If the heroine is not busy getting fucked by him,” he mocks, squeezing your face harder and moving his fingers faster on your clit. Your head rolls back and so do your eyes while a chocked moan leaves your lips. “See, I doubt you will shoot me in the head if you keep moaning like this.”

You groan angrily, you’re madder at you than you are at him. You want him and it’s so wrong that you do, but there’s not even a siren ringing in your head, telling you to make this stop.

“No, shh, shh, angel, it’s fine, this will be our little secret,” he whispers to your ear, the mask rubbing against your face, and when your eyes turn to look at him, you can see small dots of blood on the white varnish. “We could play another game: one secret for you, and one secret for me. If you behave, maybe I’ll reveal myself to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself.”

Your teeth sink into your lips harder when he delivers another harsh slap on your clit before resuming his quick movements. “Just — just tell me if I know you,” you mumble. You know he will never reveal himself, but maybe you can get something more, anything to complete the missing pieces of the puzzle.

He chuckles darkly, staring at a spot behind you as he pretends to think. “Mhh, we’ve met.”

You frown and your heart jumps in your throat for a moment at the thought you’ve seen him. “Only met?”

“We talked,” he adds, finally letting go of your face, making you breathe normally again.

Your eyes widen while your brain hurts as you try to quickly connect the dots, and find out who’s hiding underneath the mask, you just have to put a face on a voice — even if distorted, but you can’t. And suddenly realization slumps on you.

“Will it — will it break my heart?”

He snickers under his breath as he looks into your sad eyes, you’re looking at him like a dog when it’s being scolded, but in this case, you’re also silently praying he’s not someone close to you. He has no idea why that would make you feel better, if you care more about Ghostface or whoever is hiding under the mask, but it doesn’t matter, and he mocks you again, mimicking you in a high-pitched voice. “Will it hurt if I was someone close to you? A colleague? A friend? A lover?”

Your breath gets faster. Will it? Would you turn him in or defend him? And you can’t stand you’re even questioning it, of course you’ll turn him in, that’s your job, but most importantly, your duty. But will you? You could be doing it now, and you’re not.

“See? It’s not as funny if you know me,” he laughs at your face, your thoughts so loud he could get a headache. “It’s not as exciting, you love the thrill of this too, more than you like to admit.”

“Fuck,” you curse when his other hand cups your covered breast, it’s a harsh tug and the leather feels weird on your skin, yet, it makes you clasp your thighs and forget what was tormenting your morals, again.

“They’re so perfect, I can’t believe you always keep them hidden under those ugly clothes,” he pouts, giving it another hard squeeze. “Sorry.”

“For what — what the fuck?” You scream when he cuts your bra with the knife, first the middle and then the straps, the matching burgundy bra falling in pieces on the bottom of the chair.

“It was getting in the way, and I don’t like things that get in my way. I cut them off,” in his voice lingers a hysterical laugh that makes you shiver, and in times like this, you’re glad you can’t see his face.

You gulp and automatically close your legs.

“Not you,” he reassures you, forcing your thighs open again with a smack, “you entertain me. And you suck at your job, so it’s clear you also don’t get in the way.”

“I’m good at my job and I will get you and put you behind bars —”

“Uh, uh,” he clicks his tongue, knife under your jaw before you can even finish the sentence, silencing you in an instant. “We were having so much fun, don’t ruin it, babe.”

You swallow and look down following the path he’s tracing with the knife, goosebumps bloom on your skin and you hold your breath when it gets closer to your neck, only releasing it when the blade sits in the hollow of your chest.

“It’s so funny how you shake like a leaf, I’m a professional,” he says, sounding almost offended. And you furrow, is he talking about the knife or his fingers? “Both, love.”

Another groan leaves your lips before he moves the crotch to the side and the cold air of the room hits your burning core. You’ve never been so ashamed your entire life, you shouldn’t be an open book to him, you shouldn’t be so malleable in his hands, it’s pathetic and humiliating.

“You’re so fucking wet. I’m quite pissed I can’t run to the police department and let them know how much I turn you on. I can already see the disappointment on their faces,” he taunts, the slick sound of his gloves against your dripping pussy burns your body in shame and excitement.

“Don’t you dare,” you spit out, but you don’t sound so menacing since your voice breaks, and a pathetically high-pitched moan rolls from your tongue right after.

“I said I’m not going to, I keep my promises,” he kneels to the ground, one hand keeping you spread more and the other is still busy taking care of you. “Maybe if you promise you won’t shoot or put me in handcuffs right away when you’ll find out who I am, I can eat you out. I bet you let out the prettiest moans when you have someone between your legs.”

Your head rolls back, and you hiss. “You wish,” you retort through gritted teeth, but a part of you dies to know what that would be like. “I will never give you the satisfaction.”

He laughs mockingly. “Maybe I should blindfold you and do it now, will you recognize me by that?” At those words your body tenses up, head standing straight again as you look down at him with terror in your eyes. “What?” He asks in a giggle, surprised by your reaction. “You’re fucking with me right now, I still have blood on me. Would that be the most problematic thing? Having fucked with me before? Without this mask?”

“You’re just messing with me,” you mutter but your brain is trying to think, the list of the people you’ve been with is not that long, he can’t be so stupid to out himself like that, right?

“Maybe… I love it when I can see you think,” he whispers. “Usually, you have your hands in your hair, pulling at it even if you just washed it or spent hours styling it, and then you nervously bite your right thumb, somehow there’s always a hangnail to pull until it bleeds, oh, and you also nervously walk back and forth, two steps forward, two steps back. It’s cute, really. You have no fucking clue how to stop this, but you look so into it, chasing after me… well, so you think because, let’s be honest, you’re only chasing after your tail.”

You can’t believe he knows all of this, how close to you is he? And a few names start popping into your mind, but for each face that you see, your only answer is it can’t be.

“Why are you surprised? I told you, I love watching you,” he says, voice scarily soft even through the distortion of the mask. “You’re very pretty, detective. When you work hard to catch me, and even more when you screw it all up to moan for me.”

“Ugh,” you groan through gritted teeth, wrist rubbing against the rope keeping you in place and hips bucking up, anger and pleasure mixing like a drug in your brain. You hate to admit it, but you’re close and you doubt you can push back your climax any longer.

“It’s alright, love, I told you, I won’t judge you,” he hums. He studies your face for a moment, admiring how your teeth trap your lips in the vain attempt to don’t truly show how much you’re enjoying this, but your eyes are filled with lust, lightly glassy, and your cum is painting his gloves white. “Now, will you come for me?”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your body shutters as the orgasm washes over you, the quick movements of his fingers on your sensitive clit making your nails dig into the palm of your hands while your moans slip out of you freely. Your morality disappears, getting dragged away with the orgasm that consumes you before leaving.

You forget where you are for a moment, or to be more precise, with who you are with, as you let your head roll back, close your eyes and take deep breaths, waiting for the high to pass.

The thing doesn’t bother Ghostface, though, he sees enough fear in people’s eyes, he likes it better when you stop pretending and relax around him. That’s the thrilling thing about you, you are the most entertaining game he has ever played. With all the others he knows how it will end, their lifeless bodies laying in a pool of their own blood and the sirens of the police going off in the background as he blends in with the crowd, but with you? It’s unknown. Like a Russian roulette.

He’d love to shred all your clothes off, but he knows you’d have to spill your guts (not literally) if you walk out of there completely naked, and he’s sure the version you would tell the police would add another crime to his name. So, he takes your shoes off and then pulls your pants down.

Your laugh makes him raise his face and stare at you. “What’s so funny, dollface?”

You shrug, wetting your lips. “You scare me more when you act all sweet, you know?”

He scoffs, standing up again, and caressing your face. “You want me to hurt you so badly. I could carve a heart right here,” he presses the tip of the blade next to your heart, tracing the shape of a heart, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. “It would look so pretty on you, and you will always carry me with you. Isn’t it nice? Couple goals.”

You raise a brow at him, he doesn’t even realize it, but he’s giving away so much of his personality, even if you don’t find it out now, you’re pretty positive all of this is leading you somewhere. You shake your head quickly, trying not to show how hard you’re thinking about your plan. “I only want one thing from you, and you know what it is.”

He chuckles, leaning next to your ear. “My dick.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you curse, accidentally kicking him now that your legs are free to move. You suck your breath in, fearing your move, even if involuntary, might piss him off.

He hisses but doesn’t do anything else. “Don’t get all bratty here, doll. You said you wanted to play a game, and we’re going to play it until the end.”

When he cuts your panties and balls them in his fist, saying “keeping them as a souvenir,” with a grin that can be heard in his voice, you only reply with an “asshole.”

Once again, he doesn’t pay your insults any mind, and you wonder why he’s so nice to you. Should you fear it? Will you be his last victim, getting the worst death of them all because he needs to put on a show? “Now I will untie you, if you play any trick on me… you know how it ends.”

You nod quickly, watching him disappear from your view as he stands behind you. You inhale when the knife places against your neck again and roll your eyes back. “You don’t have to do this every time, you know?”

“It turns you on,” he retorts firmly. “And I need to make sure you don’t do any funny business.”

Your eyes roll back again but you try to relax anyway and keep still when your wrists are finally free. Your shoulders are in a more comfortable position again as you subtly roll them to ease up. “Get up,” he orders, and you follow, moving carefully because the blade is still close to your body and you don’t want to end up dead on the floor. “Good, now lay on the mattress.”

Your face twists in disgust when you’re reminded of the mattress on the floor, but he pushes you forward.

“We didn’t kill anybody there.”

You stop, turning around swiftly, and his reflections are rapid enough that he doesn’t push the knife into your chest. “We?”

“Oh… it didn’t click yet…” He laughs darkly at your expression, the whole world falling on your shoulders as you wonder how could you be so stupid to not realize it. “Sorry, love. But hey, aren’t you happy I helped you out?”

You glare at him but then bring your hand to your hair and your thumb to your lips. Of course, there are two of them, that’s the only way they could always be so headed of you.

“Not the right moment to think about that,” he warns, voice dropping lower, making you stop your nervous ticks. “Get on the bed.”

You turn around again, suddenly aware that he’s completely covered and you’re bare. That thought makes you seek the cover of the mattress more, and swiftly you’re laying where he wants you. But it also turns you on, being so exposed to him while he’s giving you not even a peak of who’s under the mask and the clothes send chills down your body and more cum drips out you.

“Promise you’ll be good? We can play cat and mouse later if you want to,” he asks, the blade running flat on your boobs, making him chuckle darkly when your nipples harden at the contact and your hips buck up. “You promise, detective?” He repeats with urge when you don’t reply, too busy watching the knife move on your body as he pins you down.

“Promise,” you reply, looking into the blackness of the eyes of the mask.

He chuckles under the mask, and you watch him unbuckle his pants. You could easily grab the weapon that’s on your stomach and stab him, you could even un-mask him, but you lay still, almost mesmerized. And the conscience inside of you likes to remind you how fucked up you and your morals are, but you brush it off, shaking your head quickly.

“Turn around,” he orders, but you hesitate. That’s too much vulnerability. It’s clear he doesn’t like your hesitation when he groans, grabbing the knife and pushing it aside. “God, I have to do everything with you,” he sighs as he forcefully flips you on your stomach before his legs trap you again. This time you can’t do anything even if you want to, but once again, you don’t want to.

“Fuck,” he moans, hands cupping your full ass and squeezing hard, the firm hold eliciting a moan from you. “Look at you, so fucking pretty. Keep your head down, don’t try to even get a peak,” he warns, and your immediate reaction is to turn around to understand what’s going on, but you know better, so you press your face into the pillow and only when you hear the loud sound of a spit and a glob of saliva drip between your folds you understand what happened. “Not that it was needed, you’re dripping. But you know, I like to get messy at times.”

You turn your face around, resting your head on the pillow, and bite your lips. The smugness and insanity of his voice causing more cum to ooze out of your pussy.

“I want to feel you so bad,” he hums, spreading your cunt, making you feel so exposed, “but will you run to the police? Will you tell them ‘oh no, I had to fuck Mr. Ghostface to have a bit of his DNA and save the town from this psycho’?” he mocks with a high-pitched voice, it doesn’t sound like you at all, more like a hopeless, brain-dead, blonde girl that dies within the first minutes of any horror movie.

You snicker. “You underestimate me, I could say I got those traces from somewhere else.”

“But will you? Also, I’m pretty sure they will find traces of you too. How humiliating would that be? Come on, honey, I won’t blackmail you, but you will screw yourself over? That’s not very smart of you.”

He’s right, you hate that he’s right. You will have to out yourself in the process of trying to turn him in. “I — I won’t.”

Deep down he knows you won’t, there’s no way they won’t trace it back at you too, and he also knows you won’t try to play the victim when you’re not, but he needs to be conscious, one wrong step and you could turn the game around. As much as he likes to mock you, he knows you’re smart and have been close to discovering them a few times, it was a matter of luck, and they were extremely lucky.

“Better safe than in jail,” he chuckles darkly, you don’t even try to peer around, and only listen to the plastic of the condom rip.

You whimper when you feel the tip against your slit, and you hide your face in the pillow as if that could change the reality of what you’re willingly doing. You’re too excited to be so ashamed of your actions, but, even if some may argue your morality is nowhere to be found, it still feels like a big balloon hovering over you.

You shiver when you feel the mask rest on your shoulder, “Nah, ah, angel, no being ashamed now. I told you I don’t like rude people, so don’t be rude and ask me nicely to fuck you.”

The urge to slap him is stronger than anything else, but once again your greed makes him win. “Please… please fuck me.”

“Not what I want to hear, you know what I want. We practiced the other night, haven’t we?” He reminds you, a hand creeping around your neck, holding tight enough to make buzzes of fear run through your bones.

You close your eyes, inhaling as deeply as you can while trying to find the courage to humiliate yourself one last time, but then the words slip out, “Please, fuck me, Ghostface,” and the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he pushes into you. It’s a strong, deep thrust that fills you to the brim and knocks you over. Your head falls against the pillow again while his loud groan fills your ears, “Fuck, it sounds so good from your lips.”

“Oh, fuck,” you curse through gritted teeth when he starts moving right away, barely giving you time to adjust to the feeling, thick dick grazing your insides and strong hands wrapping around your waist tightly.

“Is it too much for you, detective? My sweet little angel can’t take it?”

A groan slips past your lips, you try to stand up on your elbows, but he pushes you down. His body presses against your back and you feel trapped again. “Don’t move. I will fuck you so deep into this mattress that I will feel your scent for days after this. I want your face smashed against the pillow, I want it to be wet with your ruined makeup and tears, got it? ”

You nod quickly, shoulders dropping as you slump against the mattress. His breathing next to your ear makes you shiver, and you wonder if that’s the last thing the non-so-lucky people have met him heard before dying. But you push it away, for the sake of your sanity, you have to fool yourself that you’re not so attracted to a bloody murderer, that your morals are still intact, and that you are a good person.

It’s pathetic how all the anger you feel disappears with each calculated thrust, pleasure getting to your brain so quickly you stop holding back. Soft whimpers and moans roll out of your tongue and unconsciously your ass grinds back into him.

“Fuck, that’s what I want to hear,” he hums, standing up while his hands wrap around your waist. He never wanted to burn those gloves so badly, feeling the urge to feel your burning skin and mark you with his bare hands, but he can’t risk it. That doesn’t mean he can’t leave marks in other ways. One hand leaves your hips and cups your boob, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Have I told you they’re so pretty?”

“Mhh,” you mumble, eyes closing as he pinches down on your nipple. You wish you could say it hurt you but instead, it makes you clench hard around him, cum leaking out more with each pinch on your delicate, sensitive buds.

“Shit, you really are into pain,” he comments, there’s mockery in his voice —like always— but there’s also a genuine surprise. “Who would’ve thought, my innocent detective is way more fucked in the head than I thought.”

“I — I’m not,” you retort, groaning and forcing your eyes open, but the deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest makes you quiver, and your attitude drops in a moment.

“Honey,” he slurs, voice dipped in honey, “you’re letting Ghostface fuck you dumb, you are fucked in the head.”

You shake your head quickly, but he’s had enough of your lies. The rough tug at your hair makes you let out a choked gasp as your head is lifted from the pillow. “I know you better than anyone else, angel,” he groans, mask pressed against your hot face. “I know your dirty, little secrets. I know what runs into that dirty, little mind of yours. You can’t lie to me,” he almost purrs, a low chuckle making shame fire up inside of you, “and I can feel you, princess. Squeezing me, barely allowing me to pull out to fuck back into you. Fuck — I should feel you right now, no stupid rubber between us.”

Another broken moan slips from your lips when he roughly lets go of the hold on you, your fingers clench hard around the thin sheet under you, and your hips jerk up even more. It’s like you want to feel him more, to have him imprint himself deep into you, so far under your skin that you won’t be able to wash him off, and you don’t even know why you feel like this. Why it made you feel like this a week prior too, all the hesitation and fear as you picked up the phone and heard his breathy, distorted voice, flying out of the window the moment he started ordering you around. But was it truly an order when your only hesitation came from the fear of judgement, and you could only feel your body tingle with excitement? Sitting in front of the window, having no idea where he was hiding, putting on a show for the killer you swore you hated and making yourself come the hardest you’ve ever done.

“It makes you feel special, doesn’t it? The way you’re the only exception. The only one I would never hurt.” His voice is lower, hitting you to the core, making your toes curl and your breath falter in your chest. “You’re like a daisy in a garden of bloody, red roses.”

“Please,” you breathe out, choking on your tongue, eyes fluttering open shyly.

“Want me to stop?” He coos, head cocking to the side as he lands a sharp slap on your asscheek that makes you hiccup on a whimper and then another to your boob that drags a louder cry out of you. “Don’t want to hear how special you are?”

But that’s not what you meant. Your pleads were about something else, something you struggle to confess.

A deep laugh resonates in his chest as he looks down at your already wrecked face. You’re so precious, he can’t believe you sometimes think he could hurt you. His prettiest game, his wildest fantasy. The thrill he feels in his bones every time he’s close to you, so, so near to being discovered and yet always safe. It’s exciting, getting to his brain so much he can hardly hide how much it turns him on. But you’ve never been this close before. He dreamed about fucking you, having you pressed under him, begging, moaning and crying as his dick hit deep into your sweet pussy, pounding into you over and over again until you were nothing but mush in his hands. He wanted to strip you down completely and leave nothing of the women he sees and admires every single day. He dreamed of having all this power over you, watching you get weak on your knees and let him do anything he wanted, watching your body convulse in pleasure and your brain empty. And here you are now; wet, fucked-out eyes looking up at him while your pretty, plump mouth opens and closes as your shut-down brain tries hard to find the words.

“Speak up, princess. I don’t like to wait.”

“Please, wa-want to feel you,” you slur in a whisper, eyes blinking lazily as you try to hold onto what’s left of your sanity.

He chuckles, his thrusts coming to a stop that makes you whine in disappointment. “You want me to fuck you raw, detective?”

You hum, nodding slowly, not for the lack of enthusiasm but for the amount of shame that’s looming over you like a tornado. But Ghostface doesn’t like your silences, he doesn’t like it when you hesitate, that’s not what turns him on about you. It’s your impulses, the way you jump into things headfirst without thinking, for some it may be dumb, but to him, it’s just that sprinkle of insane bravery that makes life exciting. Your head is yanked up again with a rough pull of your hair, but his hold quickly moves to your neck. “I thought we were over the phase where I have to drag the words out of your mouth, detective. I’ll ask nicely one last time, do you want me to fuck you raw?”

You swallow your pride and reply meekly, “Ye-yes.”

He chuckles, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking in again with no warning, knocking the air out of your lungs, air that’s already struggling to fill them as his hold on your neck doesn’t loosen up. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it? Even your stupid brain could put two words together.”

You gasp for air when he finally lets go and your face sinks on the pillow again.

“I’d love to, but I won’t risk it. Maybe next time, maybe if I’ll ever feel like telling you who I am,” he replies, and you groan in disappointment. Not only he doesn’t give you what you want but he also mocks you, reminding you why you’re here and how your mission flushed down the toilet as you let him play you like a violin.

“Then — fuck — please, fuck me harder,” at this point you want him to fuck you so hard your brain will just unplug and your superego can stop nagging at the back of your mind. You don’t want a single thought in your brain, just pleasure and lust.

“That I can give it to you,” he hums happily, and in a second, he complies. His hips start snapping against you at a fast speed, his tip hitting you deep repeatedly as he keeps you arched back with one hand around your waist and the other one wrapped around the makeshift ponytail he made with your hair.

You can already feel the orgasm build up at the tip of your stomach, but it only worsens when Ghostface roughly pulls you flat against him. Your head falls behind on his shoulder, eyes rolled far in your skull as your lips hang open to let out desperate moans and suck in as much air as possible.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he moans, his thumb rubs against your neck and jaw while his right hand squeezes and pulls your boobs hard before pinching the nipples. “Listen to those pretty sounds you make,” he snickers, “and you still want to pretend you’re innocent and pure? You’re fucked up just like me, baby, that’s why I like you so much,” he slurs.

You blink, once again adjusting to the light is uncomfortable but you make out just in time the fact he’s holding a Polaroid camera. “Smile for the camera, babe,” his voice rings in your ears but doesn’t reach your brain and before you know it, you’re coming just like that. The look on your face is not a smile but an expression of blissed pleasure, the exact moment as the climax explodes inside of you, making you clench around his dick and shake in his arms, your arm twisting back, letting your hand claps on his bicep and sink your nail in the thick fabric of the black cloak.

Ghostface would like to say he’s disappointed and scold you for misbehaving, but he can only stare at you with amused disbelief written all over his face. But you only see the constant expression of the mask and once again, you fear for a second he’s mad at you. Truth be told, he could even kill you right now, you wouldn’t mind much or even notice, too lost in the pleasure that’s still looming on your body.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hips slowing down until they stop completely, “you just gifted me the most precious pic in my collection,” he whispers. You feel like the edge of mockery is still persistent but at the same time something genuine lingers in it, it doesn’t make it less creepy, but the ‘fuck me harder method’ worked because you don’t question his, and yours, fucked morality and just smile dumbly.

And that smile, united with the slow bat of your wet eyelashes, is what he needs to lose it.

“Oh, fuck it, I’ll clean you up once we’re done and if you’ll try to turn me in, I’ll find out, so you better keep your promise, alright?”

You don’t get what he’s talking about right away, too fucked out as you lay on the mattress waiting for his next move, but when he pulls out of you and swiftly pulls the condom out, you get it. You bite your lips in anticipation and swing your hips in invitation.

The sight would be enough to make him come right there, and he damns himself because out of all people, you can’t be his biggest weakness. It got to be some fucking joke of destiny. “Will you go to the police?”

“No,” you mumble.

“Good girl, because these little games are just for us, me and you, you can’t use what we do here to help you with your case.” When he sinks inside of you again, he feels like he could lose it all for the way your wet, warm walls wrap around him. “Fuck, fuck,” he curses, voice even more distorted now that he murmurs through gritted teeth, “you feel so fucking good.”

His thrusts now are almost primal, desperately pounding you against the mattress, keeping you pinned down with a hand on the back of your head —not that you need that, you wouldn’t be able to hold your neck up even if you wanted to— and holding for dear life on your hips with the other. You’ll probably have some bruises by the end of the night, if not colored prints on your skin, surely light discomfort at the touch will follow you for a few days. And you almost want to beg him for more, to mark you in some other ways, to leave something just for you to see and carry with you. Sick and perverted thoughts cross your mind, and you push them away swiftly.

You bite down on your lips when his hand leaves your side to torture your nipples again, he can barely push his hand between your body and the mattress, but he has just enough space to play with your sensitive nipples, making them even harder and causing you to clench even more around him. He loves how sensitive you are there and how each rub, pinch, and slap has you easily squirming and moaning under him.

“Look at you, going all dumb on my cock,” he groans, mockingly giving one harsh slap to your tits before his fingers trace your cheek. Your skin is so hot he can almost feel it through the fabric separating you, but what he’s most fascinated about are your tears, black mascara running down your beautiful face, dying on the pillow and your tortured parted lips. “Are you still thinking about being better than me or — fuck — have you finally embraced your dark side?”

Not a word comes out of your mouth when you whimper back, and not even a thought crosses your mind.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins smugly. “You know,” he breathes out, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to contain the orgasm, but he doesn’t want it to end so soon, “you should fire yourself and be my toy, just my toy, every time I need you, everywhere I need you. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? It’d make you feel even more special.”

You mumble a weak reply, it’s a whispered ‘no,’ but your body doesn’t deny how much the thought turns you on. Too many responsibilities in your life and your job, too much to carry daily, but right now? Nothing. Guilt will eat you alive tomorrow but not now. Something feels exciting about being on the run with him, being the one that runs, instead of the one that chases. But it won’t happen, you believe in your job, and you want this slasher to end.

“Cause only I can get you like this, ugh,” he grunts, hips slamming faster but more sloppily against your ass, the vulgar sounds filling up the room. “No man before and no man after will make you come this hard. Nobody, love. No matter how much you’ll want to, they all will disappoint you and you will look for me in every single one of them,” he groans, each word punctuated by a harsh slam of his hips, “well, the lucky ones that will get a taste before I’ll get them and kill them.”

You don’t reply, just lay there, looking like a mess as you try to fight another orgasm because coming again would be humiliating.

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” You can hear the grin on his face and his voice has the edge of insanity of the usual. “Let’s be honest, you’ve got a list of shitty partners, you would’ve been grateful if I got rid of some of them.”

“Fuck, just — just fuck me,” you beg, your hand reaching behind to touch him somehow, but he doesn’t like it.

He grips your hand and pins it behind your back bending your arm, you hiss in discomfort, but he doesn’t let go. “Oh, no, angel. You don’t make the rules in this game, I do. If I want to sink into your brain and get so deep into you that I’ll make sure you will never come out the same, I will. I’m the darkest side of yourself, the fucked up filth you’re too afraid to face,” he groans. “And I know you’re close again. Your tight cunt is squeezing me, and you made a mess on the mattress,” he snickers. “Imagine if they find this place, this mattress, your DNA on it,” he stops, leaning next to your ear, voice dropping lower, “or better, imagine if they find us now. What do you say, detective? Would they be disappointed? Would they just jack off at the view? You look so hot right now, I wouldn’t blame them if they’d get off to you, to us together. Kill them surely, blame them not. We’re so hot, detective.”

You squirm under him, feeling like the room is spinning fast and you can’t ground on anything. You have a darker thought in mind, something you can’t confess to him or else he won’t stop mocking you. You want to get caught, but not by your colleagues, by his partner. What would he do if he saw you and his partner in crimes like this? Would he understand this, or would he snap? Maybe even feeling betrayed. Does he even know you and him have been playing this game of attraction for a while now?

Your silence doesn’t make Ghostface suspect anything. You simply look totally fucked out, brain empty as you plead in soft whimpers and moans.

“You sound so fucking good,” he praises. “Why don’t we play another little game, uh?”

Your eyes open in surprise and you hum with no strength, “what?”

“Beg me to save your life,” he says, grabbing the knife again and placing it close to your neck. “Come on, do it for me, I won’t ever hear you say it because I will never want to kill you. Please, detective,” he coos, hips slowing down because your pussy is fogging his brain and he’s not sure his always-perfect aim and reflexes will work right now.

You take a deep breath and then speak. “Please, Ghostface, please, spare my life.”

His head rolls back, and a deep, groggy moan comes out of his lips. “Fuck, yes, keep going,” he orders, hips picking up the rhythm again as he skillfully flips the blade to the lesser sharp side just to be safe.

And you obey. You beg, choked-up words slipping from your lips that soon turn into please, fuck me harder, and then please, wanna come. You feel boneless, your body is too hot, and you feel you might pass out, you need a release and then hope something bigger than you will make you get back on your legs and walk out of there as if nothing happened, as if you never followed your guts and found his —their— safe haven.

“Come for me, love,” he orders, throwing the knife to the side before his hand sneaks under your body to roughly slap your clit a few times, enjoying the louder moans he drags out of you by doing so and watching with pleasure as your body squirms and shakes. “And don’t forget to smile for the camera.”

This time your eyes lock with the polaroid that he points toward your face as his chin rests on your shoulder. But it only lasts for the time of the picture, your body collapses again when he lets go of your hair and you let the pleasure pervade you from head to toe. It’s breathtaking and mind-blowing, and next time you’ll fuck someone else you’ll hate that he’s right. You will feel him everywhere, you will feel his dick deep inside of you every time your fingers will desperately try to take its place, and every time you’ll let someone in your bed, but you don’t hate that thought as you should.

“Fuck,” he groans, giving you a few more pumps to make sure you rode your high before slipping out and then roughly flipping you over. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation —honestly, you were struggling to keep them open in the first place.

Your heaving chest, your parted lips still letting out cries, your wet cheeks, and your trembling closed thighs are the last drop he needs to let go. Deep moans reach your ears while his hot cum drops on your face, most on your skin but some in your mouth, and they get even louder when you shyly swallow it and lick your lips for more.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re —” he gasps but doesn’t finish, holding onto nothing as he empties himself all over your face. “Fuck.”

He feels dizzy, the orgasm still shaking him up, but then he looks at you and has to bite back a moan. The white strings of cum are covering your blissed face, your eyelashes are clumped together by the tears, and your lips are plump and darker, he knows he doesn’t want to forget what you look like right now. “Smile one last time, baby.”

And you do, the corners of your mouth lift and then you hear the click of the polaroid. You think for a second you should’ve told him to don’t take them, he could easily blackmail you, or straight-up get you fired, but once again, you don’t truly care, and you don’t deny how much the idea of those photos turned you on.

You should get up, grab your pants, jacket, shoes and leave. But you feel heavy and tired, you’re still shaking, and your breath didn’t go back to normal, yet.

“Don’t worry, detective,” Ghostface whispers, something passes on your face to clean you from the mess, but you don’t know what, and only then you open them ajar, just to see he’s still wearing his mask. “I’ll take care of you.”

The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see.

When you wake up, you’re in your bed, wearing your nightwear, completely cleaned up, but your bones and muscles are still sore, and a terrible headache is throbbing in the left side of your brain. You turn around, rubbing your eyelids with your palms before you can fully focus on the pillow and see three things on it. The Ghostface mask, a polaroid of you two from before, his face next to yours as he pulled your hair, and a note.

“It was a pleasure playing with you, my pretty detective. Can’t wait to see what our next game will be like♡ ”

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

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neowinestainedress · 15 days

Text

just posted this on ao3 if you want to re-read it there and leave a kudos (and maybe even a comment) it would mean a lot to me! btw even if you want to re-read it here it's edited so there shouldn't be mistakes anymore (or well, less lol english is still not my native language)

ixora

all’s well that ends well to end up with you :

↳ part 2 | part 1 | part 3

title: ixora

pairings: jeong jaehyun x oc x suh johnny

summary: It was supposed to be just a fun night together. It was never supposed to end like this.

genre: established relationship, relationship negotiation, poly relationship, smut, fluff, angst, model!jaehyun, photographer!johnny,

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dom / sub dynamics, threesomes, oral (m&f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, fingering, shower sex, kind of double vaginal penetration (with fingers), minor size kink, use of sir and daddy (like once), angst, fights (lot of swearing), minor mentions of past abusive family (nothing physical, just psychological), implied homophobia (a minor character gets kicked out of the house, that’s it)

word count: 27.459k

taglist: @nz06s @thelmathinks @leighsoo | if you want to be added comment under the masterpost of the series

a/n: Sooo, here’s how it all started. Hope you’ll like it. Feedback is appreciated as always.

One year later.

The turntable was spinning in the living room, filling the house with Cigarettes After Sex’s music. The wind was blowing from window to window, keeping the house cool on that night in May.

“You should’ve been a chef, Johnny,” Jade said after praising Johnny’s food for the nth time that night.

Jaehyun rolled his eyes at her exaggerated expressions and jokingly said, “babe, it’s a shrimp, not an orgasm.”

“Close to that,” she mumbled after chewing another bite.

“Damn, getting replaced by a fish, Jay, that’s bad,” Johnny joked, grabbing the glass of wine while looking at his friend.

“That’s all your fault, I’ve been seeing you more in these last months than my mom all my life.”

“But who’s here cooking for you when you come home after a long day at work?” Johnny winked with a teasing smirk on his face.

Keep reading

#sr #icym #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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neowinestainedress · 15 days

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Hey, I just finished reading Rock, paper, scissors it was soo good! When will you make a fiction like that again! Oh and have a good day💗

Hiii! Tbh I don't even when I will make another fic in general ☠️ I'm not doing great lately and my writing is suffering the consequences too. BUT there's a sequel to that fic (can you handle it?) and I have a few fics that are similar, from the poly series I'm currently re-editing and posting on ao3 to some others stand alones.

I had planned to make rock paper scissors a series but I doubt it will happen 😔 I'm happy you liked it tho ♡

#anon answered #fic: rock paper scissors

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neowinestainedress · 15 days

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what is this ☠️ i'm hot cause i'm... miserable???

#games

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neowinestainedress · 15 days

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omg thank youuu ♡ this is still one of my favorite dynamics i wrote about so i'm happy to know you go back to it!

DEEP WATERS

TITLE: DEEP WATERS | part of the INFERNO event

PAIRING: tentacle monster!haechan x fem!human!oc/reader

GENRE: smut, monsterfucking

SUMMARY: all your life you heard stories about the monster that lives in the lake, but they never scared you. You were looking for him, hoping fate was going to lead you to him to prove yourself you’re not crazy for believing in his existence. And when it happens, he seems to be afraid of you.

WARNINGS: smut, tentacles sex, aphrodisiacs (but to make the whole thing possible and not painful so everything is consensual), public /outdoor sex, nipple sucking, nipple orgasm, shibari with tentacles (i guess), oral sex (f/m), anal sex, vaginal sex, spitroasting, triple penetration, belly bulge, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, brief mentions of free use, breeding (but not really), cum inflation (and a lot of cum in general), unrealistic sex (do i really have to write this??), aftercare (don't ask)

WORD COUNT: 8.004k

A/N: don't really know how to feel about this one and I hate writing things in a rush, but it's here. Let me know your opinion with comments, reblogs or asks!! Enjoy ♡

if you click 'read more' you agree you have read the warnings and take responsibility for the media you consume.

“I truly don’t think we should be here,” Jaemin whispered, looking around in the thick forest that was getting wider with each step as they approached the lake.

“Yeah, that’s one of your countless dumb ideas,” Renjun added, trying to stop his body from shaking so much at the slightest of sounds.

“You’re so annoying,” she commented, walking around with too much enthusiasm if you asked her friends that were behind her, almost using her body as a shield from whatever was going to jump from the waters.

“Why can’t we just go back to our tents and stay there?” Jaemin complained.

“Because it’s boring, yall keep telling the same stories over and over again and most of the others are asleep.”

“You know he doesn’t exist, right?” Renjun said, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

She sighed, “Then why are you shitting your pants?”

Renjun let out an offended gasp before knitting his brows, “I’m not. I just think it’s not wise to wander around in the middle of the night here, there could be wild animals.”

She laughed after rolling her eyes and then stopped when the lake came in their view.

“God, it’s so pretty. I can’t believe people barely come here.”

Jaemin coughed, “Yeah, there’s a reason.”

She glared at him. “So why do you call me crazy?”

“Nobody calls you crazy, it’s just… it’s creepy, okay? The vibes of this place are creepy, can’t we go back?” Renjun insisted.

“What are you doing?” He asked when she bent to the ground to search for something, taking a step out of the bush. “Please, don’t do anything dumb, don’t do — you did something dumb,” he sighed when she threw a rock in the lake, circles forming on the surface as the rock slid on the surface before sinking.

“Okay, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jaemin said.

“It is,” she did it again, and again.

“Why do you want to anger it?”

“I don’t, I just can’t believe that nothing makes him come out.”

“Mh, I don’t think your rock was that big,” Jaemin said, taking a step back when the water started moving.

“What have you done?” Renjun asked terrified, seeing something coming out of the surface.

“Got what I wanted?” She replied, shrugging, and he could hear the happy smile on her face.

“You’re insane,” he replied, shaking his head. “Let’s run,” he screamed, grabbing Jaemin’s hand and turning back, not even looking back to see if she was following them.

“Yeah, I’ll reach you,” she replied, but instead of following her friends, she moved closer to the water and her breath stopped for a moment as she could see a figure emerge from the surface.

Finally, after years, it was happening.

The monster moved his tentacles and slithered some in front of her, but she barely flinched.

“You’re not scared?” The monster in front of her raised a brow in utter confusion, he was standing still now, waiting for a reaction that wasn’t coming.

“No,” she replied and he could feel the same serenity in the way she was acting in her voice.

“You think I’m not scary?”

She shook her head, biting her lips, and studying the blue appendices swinging around his body, water still dripping down, damping his hair and his scaly blue skin. “You’re interesting… curious, but not scary.”

The monster laughed, a sharp mocking laugh. “I won’t spare you just because you’re pretending to don’t be afraid.”

“You don’t kill,” she replied calmly. “I’ve been reading so much about you. Read all those tales about you. You terrorize people, certain tellers believing that it’s because you don’t enjoy people invading your personal space. It’s like Shrek.”

He frowned, truly shocked at how calm she was, or even casual, as if she was chatting with a friend and not a monster that lived in the depths of a lake after terrorizing the people of her village. “Shrek? Who’s that?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know. But that’s not the point.”

“Don’t touch,” he groaned, pulling away one of his tentacles when her hand lifted up and moved closer to the limb. “You can’t touch me.”

“Will I burn? Is it like holy water on demons?”

He rolled his eyes and then started moving in circles around her. She truly wasn’t afraid a bit. How was that possible? But she didn’t seem armed, and also looked rather short and fragile compared to him, and her clothes, a white sweater, and grey pants weren’t made for a fight, so what were her tricks? Was she able to mind control or something?

“Why are you here? Don’t you know it’s dangerous being all alone in the middle of the night at the sides of the haunted lake?”

She puffed, eyes squinting as she studied the creases of his body, he was mostly naked, just a drape covering his lower body while his skin was covered in scales that disappeared on his hands, feet, neck and face.

“I wasn’t alone. My friends are weak and ran off when they saw you emerging from the surface.”

He stopped moving around her, panicking for a second, “They saw me?”

“They didn’t. But just the idea of the tales being true terrified them. Can I say you let me down?”

“I let you what?” His voice came out higher than he wanted to but he couldn’t deny he was dumbfounded by her behaviour.

“I wasn’t going to be afraid of you but… damn, I thought you were going to be scarier. Bigger. Ugly,” she commented, still studying him, and admiring how beautiful he was, sure, some things could’ve — should’ve — been considered weird but he had a handsome face, and his colours, deep blue mixing with purple and bright pink were simply beautiful.

He blinked repeatedly, thinking it had to be a weird dream, a hallucination given by all these years of being alone and far from his home planet, but she was still standing there, closer than before, once again trying to touch him.

“I could kill you.”

“Would you?” She raised a brow, testing him with a smug smirk on her face.

He gasped, shaking his head. “Why would I not? If you’re so smart and curious as you say you are, you should know what happens to people that know about my existence. They can’t survive. They can’t put my life at risk. I’ve been hunted all my life, and this is my first safe place and I have to hide in the water.”

“You think I can run back to town and talk about you? They would call me crazy.”

“They might, but they will also come here and hunt me.”

“Why don’t you try to talk —”

“You’re so naïve, really think that they would listen to me? Think they would listen to what a monster has to say? I can turn scary if I want to, I’m sparing you.”

Instead of baking away her eyes lit up, her mouth opening in surprise and excitement. “So you can control it?”

“Of course, I can. My original form wasn’t even in the water. I had to adapt.”

“So, you’re an alien? The books don’t say it. It says that you’ve always been here and you’ve been scaring the town since the dawn of time.”

“Leave,” he only replied, voice sharp and deeper.

Her eyes moved to his. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He snorted. “You couldn’t even if you tried.”

“Well, physically I can’t but emotionally.”

“No, little girl, not even emotionally. And now leave. I’m keeping you alive as a favour.”

“But why? I’m just curious…”

He moved closer, touching her chin with a hand, making her gulp and shiver at the sensation of his skin rubbing against hers. “You think I’d be so dumb to be vulnerable in front of you? To tell you more about me so you can run to your village and tell them you found out how to finally get rid of me?”

She shook her head. “But that’s not what I’m curious about.”

“And what are you curious about, then?” He asked, raising a brow and when she looked away, he furrowed.

“I have some abilities but unfortunately I can’t read minds, speak.”

She gulped, coughing to clear her throat. “About your tentacles.”

“My tentacles?” He tilted his head to the side, watching how her attitude shifted as soon as his body surrounded hers.

“Yeah… if I touch them, can you feel something?”

“Of course, I can, they are protuberances of me.”

“No, but like… pleasure.”

He stood there frozen for a second, shocked once again by her boldness. That was what she was thinking about? But he shrugged it off and a teasing laugh rumbled out of his chest.

“That’s what you want to know?” He teased, caressing her cheek. She nodded. “Want to know if I do this,” another tentacle came out of his body, “and put it between your legs,” she whimpered when the wet tentacle teased her over the pants, “if I feel something?”

She nodded, breath getting shorter as the limb moved on her thigh, wrapping around her waist and lifting her up on the ground.

“I don’t know, but now I’m curious too. Do you feel something?”

She hummed, looking down at him, biting her lips to don’t let the small moans of pleasure come out.

“You know I could let you go right now and make you crash to the ground, right?”

“I know.”

“And aren’t you afraid?”

“You won’t do it.”

“Are you sure? I have all the reasons to do it. You know about me, not much but more than anybody else on this stupid planet ever did, and are also trying to fuck me.”

“Isn’t that good? For how long have you been alone?”

“For how long have you been alone?”

She grunted, throwing her head back in frustration — and a bit of pleasure since the tentacle was still rubbing against her. “God, stop stealing my lines. Come up with something yourself, or answer.”

She gasped when he let her go, but caught her before she could smash onto the ground.

“I told you,” she winked.

“It’s just because you’re entertaining. So dumb, you will get hurt.”

“But any way you didn’t kill me, and your tentacle is still between my legs.”

The monster groaned, leaving her on the ground and moving away, the tentacle slithering back into his skin.

“How do you do that?” She asked, watching in awe as his body got back to its original form.

“How do you breathe?”

She rolled her eyes. “God, you’re so annoying. Ever thought that maybe your terrible communication skills are the reason why people wanted you dead?”

“Shut up, and leave.”

“No.”

“No?” He raised a brow, glaring at her, looking scary for a second but she had no intention of stepping back.

“I’m not standing into the waters of the lake, I’m not breaking any rules. On the other hand, you decided to come out of the waters knowing full well that I was there. So maybe, you need something too.”

“I need peace, and I’d need to get away from here. I surely don’t need you.”

“But you’re all alone, how doesn’t that get boring? What if it wasn’t me? What if there was a hunter that wanted to kill you? You risked so much tonight.”

“I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” he sighed, rubbing his temples.

“You have the chance. You just don’t want to.”

“Oh, damn, just… what do you want?”

“You.”

“Me? Like my head on a silver plate?”

“I’ve been passionate about you since I was a kid, all my fellow classmates were terrified hearing the stories about you, but I was so fascinated. I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and then… then growing up it just got worst.”

“So you’re obsessed?”

“No, I’m more like a fan. Do you know what that is?”

He shook his head.

“Well, it’s someone that’s very fond and passionate about somebody else.”

“Obsessed.”

“No. Listen,” she sighed. “I… I’ve been called a freak all my life for believing in you, and I think that it’s so dumb that I’m the weird one when nobody ever comes to this lake at night. So I guess people believe in you but are too ashamed to admit it. While I never cared about it, like, even if you weren’t real, was I hurting somebody? No. So can you please just answer my doubts? I promise you won’t see me again.”

“Do you really have doubts to answer?” He asked after sighing loudly. “Or do you have needs you think nobody else can satisfy?”

She didn’t reply immediately, ashamed he had caught the main reason why she wanted to find him. Because if at the start the curiosity was almost scientific, with the years it turned into a fantasy she truly couldn’t tell to anybody. “What if I had both?”

He chuckled. “And what do you want to solve first?”

“My needs?” She asked shyly, tilting her head to the side.

“I doubt you’ll have the strength to answer your question if you follow that path. I doubt you will make it out alive at all.”

“It can’t be that bad…”

“It’s not made for you,” he replied, hovering over her. “Nothing about me is made for you.”

“We could try.” Her voice was low as she looked up at him, eyes falling on his lips.

“Don’t play with fire if you don’t want to get burned.”

“Maybe I could get just a little taste? Let me, let me touch one of your tentacles, please?”

He chuckled, lifting one closer to her hand, watching as she grazed it gently. “Why are you so attracted to them?”

“I… I don’t know. There’s something fascinating about this,” she confessed, letting her fingers run on it, it was smooth and wet, maybe even sticky. She had noticed that they all had different textures, some had veins, others suckers, and some others were like the one she was touching. She could feel his breath falter for a moment. “Do you feel something?”

“Not really, those are not made for pleasure. Honestly, nothing in my species is made for pleasure.”

“No pleasure?” Her hands stopped, her attention back on his face.

He smiled. “Reproduction.”

She gasped, biting her lips.

“It was easy to change your mind.”

“I didn’t change it.”

“Okay, you are hiding something from me, what are you?”

“I’m human. I’m me.”

“How… How are you not afraid? I can emit corrosive acids, I could strangle you, I could drag you in the pits of that lake and drown you and your family would never find a body to mourn on. And here you are?”

“Because humans are scarier than monsters and I’ve been surrounded by them since I was born? You think that people don’t commit atrocities just because they don’t have tentacles, fangs, or wings, or claws, or powers, and toxic fluids?”

He couldn’t deny he did find humans disgusting and terrible but it was different. “But that doesn’t make me any less scary.”

“Hate to break it to you but you are… hot.”

“Hot?”

“If you were ugly probably I would find you scarier, but those tentacles, your skin, your tongue and your eyes are not scary.”

He hummed, trying to hide how happy he was to hear those words. “Are you sure you want to play? I can’t promise you will make it out alive, but I got that you have no intention to leave anyway, so instead of wasting the night with useless talks…”

She hummed, it couldn’t have been a bad idea. She wanted this so badly.

“I promise I’ll try to be gentle at the start. And don’t come inside you, I’m not really sure the kid that will come out of us will be a good mix.”

She chuckled and that made him roll his eyes. “Do you hate your life or something? Why are you not afraid of me in the slightest?”

“Why do you want me to be afraid so bad?” She asked, running a hand on his skin, it was still wet, but the scales had a good sensation at the touch, they resembled snakeskin.

“Sometimes fear saves your ass,” the monster replied, touching her chin with two fingers, and caressing her skin. “I could be poisonous, I could strangle you…”

“Or drag me in the deep waters, yeah, I know. You could also take control of my mind. I’ve been studying you and your powers for years, that’s why I wanted to know what is true and what’s not. But if you propose something funnier, I guess education can wait.”

He groaned when she touched his face and pulled away. She raised a brow. “You are afraid,” she pointed out, walking toward him as he started taking small steps back, finally realizing why he was acting like this.

“I’m not afraid, I don’t want you to touch me like this.”

“But why?”

He hesitated, his feet reaching the shore, the human skin on his feet being replaced by blue scales. “I don’t trust you.”

“Would it make it better if you knew my name? You still didn’t tell me yours, you must have one.”

“Hideous monster, terrific creature, I don’t know, pick one your people decided to give me,” he retorted bitterly.

“Those are not names. Please,” she begged.

And her sincere eyes were the only things that made him say his real name for the first time ever. “Haechan.”

“Haechan?”

“Yeah, do you have anything to say about it?” He asked annoyed, already regretting the confession.

She shook her head, walking closer to him, they were standing face to face. “I love it, it fits you.”

He scoffed. “Are you really that desperate?”

“I’m being honest.”

“We can’t,” he replied when her chest pressed against his.

“I thought you said you couldn’t promise me to be gentle, but not that we couldn’t.”

“What if people see? What if they think I’m hurting you and… it’s too dangerous. And the only way I know to do this is even more dangerous.”

She smirked, looking past him, the dark water painted silver by the moon shining behind him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Why not?”

“You’re insane.”

“I’d say I like a challenge.”

“A challenge that could kill you, and then kill me once they find your dead body on the shore.”

“Then don’t risk it and let’s say above waters,” she replied, touching him once again. “Did they move?” She asked when the scales on his arms bricked up.

“No, they didn’t,” he replied sternly, pulling his arm away.

“They did! Are you turned on? Do you like it when I touch you?”

“You know nothing about how I work, just shut up,” he said, wrapping a hand over her mouth. “Stop screaming, you will draw attention.” When Haechan looked down she was staring at him, the light reflecting in her eyes, making it look as if a million little stars were inside, and he pulled away when he felt his skin brick up.

She smirked when she noticed, but didn’t tease him verbally.

“You know nobody dares to come here at night,” she said, “as much as they love to call me crazy for believing in you, they shit themselves thinking they could encounter you.”

“If something bad happens to me, but doesn’t get me killed, I’ll make sure I’ll come to haunt you wherever you are.”

“Sounds good, so we will see each other again,” she smiled, touching his tentacles again, making him groan.

“No touching,” he hissed.

“How are we going to do it if I don’t touch you?”

“You can only touch if I start it, or if they come closer to you. They are… sensible.” He gulped, looking at her. “Not like you mean it, not the ones that are out now. Damn, you’re so annoying with your little cocky gazes, that’s why you’re single and you have to beg a monster to fuck you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she said, rolling her eyes before she kissed him. She was tired of this beating around the bush, she wanted things to start. She gasped in the kiss when his tentacles wrapped around her frame and lifted her up from the ground. “Oh, finally started loosening up?”

“I told you to —” Haechan tried to retort but she shushed him again with another kiss.

“You’re so annoying,” he huffed when she pulled away. “And kisses are weird.”

“Weird? What about touches? Your tentacles are all over me, can I touch them?”

“Doesn’t it feel disgusting? They’re sticky.”

“It’s weird, but I like it.”

He quirked a brow, moving them more, exploring her curves. “Do you?”

She hummed when one of them brushed between her legs and the other on her breast. It was weird, but not disgusting.

And when he heard her moan, the put up façade he was showing crumbled apart, it was like her soft moans were telling him the truth, he could feel her body, he felt the pulses in her vein, he felt that she was being honest, that for some — weird — reason she truly wanted this, but mostly, she wanted him. No, he couldn’t read minds, but he, unfortunately, could feel so much, and all his life on that stupid planet he only felt hatred, disgust and anger, but this… this was different, this was good.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, tentacles retracting from her body, leaving her surprised for a second, blinking at him with confused eyes.

“Yes,” she still replied with no hesitation.

“How much?”

She hesitated for a second, not getting where this was going. Was there somebody behind her and he wanted to make her say something to don’t get them both killed or were his doubts haunting him again?

“Enough to try this with you.”

“Then can you let me try a thing with you?”

“Define a thing.”

“This,” he said, tentacles moving again, two of them reaching for her hands and blocking them over her head, the hold tight enough to make her stay still. “And this.” The other two roamed on her body, sending shivers all over it.

Her head fell back and her lips parted to let out moans. “Yes, do —do whatever you want.”

His eyes sparkled at the consent, and two more tentacles came out of him, securing around her ankles and lifting her up, it was as if she was laying but underneath her there was just air, and the cold, hard ground if he only let go of the grip.

Her body stiffed when he grabbed her clothes and ripped them off her body with strength.

“Don’t look surprised by my strength, you wanted this.”

She hummed, nodding and biting her lips nervously, the cold air making her shiver.

“I will warm you up,” he joked, “need more tentacles to keep you warm?”

She nodded, moaning when two others reached her breast, squeezing her boobs strongly.

“Fuck.”

Haechan smirked, content with her reaction. “You look pretty down here,” his breath huffed against her wet pussy, and she tried to close her legs, but the tentacles were keeping her spread open. “Well, never seen a human one but yours is beautiful.”

“That’s a weird comment,” she groaned, feeling so exposed because it was as if he was studying her, but well, could she be mad when she was just as curious of him?

“Is it? Humans don’t compliment each other?”

“Well, fuck, not exactly like this.”

“Oh, well, I don’t want to be like you anyway so take it.”

She was about to say something again but his tongue laying flat on her cunt stopped the words in the back of her brain, head falling backwards, dangling in the air, and nails digging into her own palms.

“Fuck,” she groaned when he started moving it, long tongue teasing her entrance before his lips started sucking her sensitive clit.

“Never imagined you’d taste so good,” Haechan groaned against her, hands cupping her thighs, as his tentacles moved to bend them and leave him more space between her legs. The new position, with her knees bent and slightly closer to her chest, made her feel his fast movement even more.

Haechan pulled away, staring in awe at her dripping juices mixing with his spit and dripping down her ass. “Let’s see,” he whispered, lips curling in a smirk, “if I do this, will you like it?” Two smaller tentacles came from his back and reached for her pussy lips, pulling them apart. His tongue rolled out again and this time slipped in again, fucking in and out.

She groaned when her eyes met his, staring at her with a lustful gaze, his tentacles now moving faster around him, and holding her tighter. She tried to close her legs again, sure that he must’ve had something in him that made everything feel ten times better because she had never been so sensitive.

“I’m gonna come,” she cried out, squirming in his hold while she reached the first climax. Her skin was already pearled with sweat, and at this point she feared she was going to get sick because of the low temperature of the night, but her health wasn’t exactly her main concern right now.

“Oh, you love this,” he smiled. “Didn’t think you would be so sensitive.”

“Hae-Haechan,” she called breathlessly.

“Yes, honey?”

“The — the tentacles, can they, can you stop them?”

He raised a brow, “Thought you wanted this?”

“I do — I do, want this so badly but,” the breath got stuck in her throat as the tentacles on her nipples started sucking harder. “Too much. Too good.”

“If it’s good it’s never bad, isn’t it?” He joked, placing a tentacle on her clit, and rubbing the head in circular motions. “But I don’t know how I want to fuck you yet, let me think.”

“I’ll come again,” she cried out, voice breaking into a scream.

“I warned you.”

She groaned, letting her head fall back, giving in to the pleasure, it wasn’t bad, and that was the problem, the shocks of pleasure running in her body were so strong she feared he was going to tire her up before she could get a bigger taste.

“Oh, I think I got it,” he exclaimed. “You’ve got a really nice ass, I want to have a better view of it.”

She screamed when he swiftly turned her around, tentacles moving so fast her heart dropped when they let go of her to trap her in another position. But the fear of the precarity of it all made all her blood rush between her legs, pussy throbbing hard in anticipation.

“So, so pretty like this,” he whispered, she was now facing him with her back, ass perched up, arms tied up, standing straight above her head, calves flat against the back of her thighs as two tentacles secured her legs in that bent position, almost as if she was kneeling standing mid-air. “Silver looks good on you,” he added, caressing her skin, and watching the moonlight reflect on her. “Are you cold?” He asked when his fingers grazed her back, running along her spine and felt goosebumps.

“A — a bit.”

“I’ll warm you up soon.”

“Fuck,” she moaned, head tangling in front of her when he parted her ass cheeks, jumping back against him when he left a kiss on her rim. “I don’t —”

“Shh,” he shushed her up. “This hole looks inviting.”

“You can’t fuck me there raw.”

“Why not?” He asked, and when she looked back he seemed genuinely confused, it would’ve been cute if only she couldn’t feel a tentacle already prod at the entrance. “Aren’t all holes made for that? To get fucked and filled?”

“Kinda,” she replied, voice faltering as she tried to ignore the effect those words had between her legs. “Wait,” she stopped him when the appendance pushed in. “You need to — you need to get it wet and ready, it’s not like my pussy.”

He raised a brow, not really getting the point of it, and she wasn’t going to explain to him the real point of it now.

“Just — eat me out like you did before and push the smallest tentacle in,” she explained, hoping she wasn’t going to regret it considering the most daring thing she had done with her ass was put a shy finger inside of her.

And he obeyed, tongue licking a stripe before he started to move with eagerness just like before. But he was eager, he had barely got a taste of anything and he couldn’t wait longer, so he slipped a tentacle inside, moaning when her warmth clenched around it.

She couldn’t reply, mouth gaping as she tried to realize what had just happened. “Feels weird,” she choked on her words as she tried to adjust to the sensation, smooth on one side while on the other she could feel suckers rub against her walls, ignoring the slight discomfort because he didn’t prep her at all.

“Want my cock instead?”

“No, I just — fuck — need to get used to it,” she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Good, ‘cause you feel so good.” Haechan was getting high at the way she was moaning, pretty sounds and squeals. And in a second he moved closer to her, moving her so her pussy was right at his dick height. She yelped, not expecting him to move her around like that, so easily, as if she was nothing.

“Are you going to take my cock?”

She blinked, turning her neck, trying to get a glimpse of it, eyes widening when she saw it, bigger than anything she had ever taken, a dark blue at the base that turned lighter at the tip, full of ridges along the length, curving up perfectly, big heavy balls hanging tight under it.

She whined, suddenly realizing she might’ve bargained more than she could take. “Sure, I’ll take it.”

But Haechan laughed. “No, you won’t. You’re too fragile, little lamb. I told you this was going to be too much for you.”

She didn’t answer, choking up on yet another moan as the tentacles in her ass started moving faster and deeper.

“You’re so lucky I can and want to help you.”

“You can make it smaller?”

He let out a mocking sound, “Bigger, if I wanted to,” he smirked. “But I don’t feel like I want to destroy you… not yet.” Her smile dropped and he chuckled. “I’m kidding, I’m just joking. I wouldn’t want to break what could be my favourite plaything.”

“Plaything,” she huffed. “You wanted me gone. Changed your mind? It does suck to be here alone?”

She screamed when a tentacle latched at her clit, sucking hard, it almost felt like it was vibrating, no… it couldn’t be.

“I need you to shut up,” he said, another tentacle coming out of him to reach her mouth and fill it with no grace. When he could only hear muffled moans, he smiled. “Better, sounds get irritating easily when you’ve spent so much time in silence.”

She whimpered when she felt something wet against her opening, it was sticky and wet, but she couldn’t turn around and see, not that she could’ve anyway, but her head was being kept still by the tentacle fucking into her mouth.

Her eyes closed when the tip of his fat cock started rubbing against her cunt, smearing the substance around. “Need you to be relaxed or no amount of aphrodisiacs will make this possible. I don’t like when my toys break.”

She breathed deeply through her nose, cringing at the mess of spit that was drooling out of her mouth, and tried to relax her body.

“That’s it,” he grunted, easing his tip inside her, ass bucking up at the intrusion. “Fuck, you’re so warm here,” he groaned when he slipped all the way in, fat, ridged cock stretching her wide, but it wasn’t as painful as she imagined it would be. Still, she could feel him so deep inside of her that she wondered how he wasn’t splitting her or hurting her. Large enough to fill her like nothing ever before, the scales rubbing against her walls, the new texture making shivers run down her spine and curl her toes already, stomach closing in a knot as the feeling emptied her brain.

The sounds filling the chill, calm night of October around the lake were disgusting. Lewd squelching sounds, cum splashing between their bodies, tentacles dripping so much of it already that the brown earth was starting to turn white.

And as much as Haechan told her to keep quiet, the one that was having a hard time holding the moans in was him. He never felt anything as good as that, all her holes feeling so good, bringing him closer to the edge before he’d love to. Not that he was scared of that, he could come over and over again, last for days if he wanted to, but her? Small body shaking into his tentacles hold, squirming and at the same time fucking back asking for more, small holes barely taking him, stretching out so widely just for him.

“Should’ve fucked a human first, fuck,” he moaned. “Feels so good.” Probably the sight of her holes opening just for him was what he last needed to reach his orgasm. He didn’t warn her, though, coming inside all of her holes, filling her to the brim, sticky white cum overflowing, bringing her to the edge too.

She coughed, spitting it out of her mouth, too much to even think of swallowing it.

“Too much,” she cried out, feeling her muscles sore as she squirmed uncontrollably as she reached another orgasm.

“You think I’m done with you? I want to see your pretty face while I make you come, see your pretty belly bulge,” Haechan snorted, still lazily pumping inside of her.

She groaned. “Fuck me against the ground, I — I’m too tired, these positions are,” she blabbered, still spitting some cum out of her mouth, struggling to let out what she was thinking about.

“Against the dirty ground? I don’t think so,” he said before he turned her around, this time holding her against his body, tentacles wrapping around her to shield her from the cold of the night, eyes staring right into her watery ones. “But I think we can try something else. You said you’d let me do anything, didn’t you?”

She nodded, suddenly fearing what he could do to her.

“Is it better?” He asked and she looked around in panic when felt herself floating, tentacles holding her up but she could feel they weren’t the main reason why she was laying in the air.

“Yeah,” she whimpered, feeling her skin burn as the tentacles brushed against it.

“Good,” he smirked, staring at her leaking holes in awe. “You’re so pretty, are all humans like this?”

She nodded, half-lidded eyes looking into his.

“As pretty as you?”

“I — I don’t know.”

“I don’t think so,” he replied, cock slipping into her cunt again, stretching her again.

Her head fell back, but it was like something was keeping her up, almost as if he had put an invisible surface she could lay on.

“You feel so good, fuck, should’ve come here sooner,” Haechan groaned, slipping another tentacle inside her ass, this time thicker than the one that had fucked her before. “Would’ve filled many lonely nights.”

And she would’ve loved to reply that she did try, searched for him everywhere but he was too good at hiding, her brain though didn’t let her mumble a single word, nothing else that wasn’t a moan or a whimper.

It took him nothing to make her come for the third time with an orgasm that simply didn’t feel real. It sent pleasure flooding through her entire body, making her scream in the night, cunt and ass clenching around him barely giving him space to still pump his thick fleshes in and out of her holes.

But Haechan had no intention of stopping. If it felt good before, now it felt even better. Her face drunk on his cock and tentacles, mouth open, tongue rolling out and eyes rolled in the back of her head. He also would’ve loved to be gentle and let her lay like that, but he wanted her closer and wanted to have a better view, so once again he moved her body, angling her so that she was almost flat against his chest but not close enough that he couldn’t see the bulge of his cock in her belly.

“Shit, can you see me through your pretty belly?” Haechan moved a hand behind her back, forcing her neck to look down, eyes snapping open in surprise, awe, and slight terror as she once again wondered how the hell it was possible and how deep he was reaching.

“You look so pretty with a round belly, baby. Should I fill you more?”

She nodded eagerly, broken moans slipping past her lips.

“Yeah? Want all my cum deep inside your nasty holes? Want it to be so much it overflows and drips out of you for days?”

“Yes, please, fill me, stuff me of your cum.”

Haechan groaned before he emptied himself inside her again, stilling against her, tentacles stopping their frenetic movements as the pleasure ran all over his body.

Her head rolled back as yet another orgasm washed over her, and she felt her brain hazed with pleasure.

“Hae — Haechan,” she called out, voice breathy and tears trickling down her cheeks.

“What, babe? Can’t take it anymore?”

She nodded, biting her lips when two suction cups place on her nipples again, sucking avidly.

“I’m sure you can.”

“No, I — I — fuck,” she screamed, wriggling in his hold, hips involuntarily fucking into him.

“I’m sure you can take one more for me, can’t you?”

“I — I, not too much.”

He shook his head, slipping out of her, cold air hitting her burning holes as his body moved back for a few seconds, cum dripping in a pool on the ground.

“Want to fuck your tight ass with my cock and your pretty pussy with my tentacles.”

She hummed before the words registered in her head.

“Tentacles?”

Haechan only smirked, pushing into her rim with force, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Her mouth open and drool dripping on her chin. “Haechan.”

“Fuck, nobody ever screamed my name like that,” he moaned, head falling forward in the crook of her neck. “Not even in terror, they only call me a monster.”

She only whimpered in reply, closing her eyes when she felt the first tentacle make its way inside her pussy, it wasn’t incredibly thick, but it filled her enough that she didn’t even want to think about the intrusion of another one. Not a single thought in her brain as pleasure buzzed in her veins, she was sure she wouldn’t have been able to walk back to the tent, not now and probably not even in the morning, but it felt good.

“You take me so well, little lamb,” he praised, eyes staring right where he was fucking into her with force. “Should I add another one? See how much of me you can truly take?”

She nodded, “Please.”

“Please?” He snickered, a thick tentacle raising in the air before it reached her clit, sucking to help her dilated more around him. “Thought it was too much just a few seconds ago.”

She shook her head, tears spilling down her eyes like a fountain. “Need you, need more.”

“As you wish,” he chuckled before pushing the other one inside. The stretch was inhuman, enough to make her come on the spot, body freezing at the mercy of the shocks of pleasure that were rushing in her.

“Fuck, fuck,” she cried out when the feeling dimmed, looking down, watching the two blue, veiny tentacles make their way into her poor abused cunt. She could clearly see them through her tummy, and feel them too. She should’ve found it scarier but she could only think that it was hot and felt so good she feared no other human was going to make her feel like that ever again.

“So tight, little lamb. Can’t believe you came all the way here to get fucked by me. Used and filled by a monster. Begging to get ruined.”

“Nggh,” she replied in a broken whimper. “Just for you.”

He smirked, leaning in, long tongue rolling out to lick a stripe of her tear. “Everything about you tastes so good. Maybe you should stay around,” he hummed. “I should keep you with me to keep me company, always ready to get fucked.”

She nodded, eyes opening to meet his.

“Want that? Want to be my little toy to fill and fuck anytime I like? Only used for my pleasure?”

“Yes, please.”

Haechan groaned, “You can take all my cum as proof you’re not crazy, there will be so much in and on you that you won’t forget about it. It’ll leak out of you for weeks.”

“Mhh, please.”

“Gonna give it all to you, my favourite girl, aren’t you?” She nodded, a dumb smile on her face as the nth orgasm rose again. “You know, fuck, thinking about it, you would look so pretty carrying our babies, don’t you think so?”

She only mumbled in a reply, too dizzy to truly listen.

“Yes, you would, all round like you are right now, fuck, look at you.” He had already fucked so much cum into her that her belly was bulging not only from the tentacles but also from that, so round that she looked pregnant already.

“Fill me, give — give it to me,” she begged, voice coming out like a mess of broken cries and high-pitched moans.

“If you want that so much, fuck,” he growled, head falling backwards, eyes closed as pleasure overtook him.

When he came inside of her it lasted longer, and this time more tentacles spilled cum everywhere, completely coating her body with the white, sticky substance. But she had no strength to squirm away or complain because the orgasm washing over her almost knocked her out completely. Vision white and ears buzzing while her back was arched, letting Haechan’s last pumps ride the high until it stopped.

She didn’t hear or comprehend much of what happened next, she guessed he was still cursing and moaning while her holes still clenched around him, making it impossible to slip out.

She soon passed out for a while and when her eyes opened, she was confused. She looked down and saw that she was clean but her hair was wet, still, she wasn’t cold, the warm light of the fire heating her up. When she looked up she saw that Haechan was still there, sitting close to her and playing with some wood, the red and orange lighting up his handsome features.

“You can light a fire?”

“Apparently, I can,” Haechan replied with a small smile on her face.

“Tried to drown me?” She chuckled, regretting it when she felt all her muscles hurt.

“Tried to clean you but I think you will leak my cum for weeks,” he commented. “I’m sorry, I even promised I would pull out but… you felt too good.”

She laughed, “No worries, men do it all the time. And I’m on the pill, so no, I don’t think we’ll get a baby monster in nine months.”

“I don’t know what the pill is but I put my trust in it.”

“Yeah, we all do.”

Some silence passed before the monster broke it, gathering some courage to keep a conversation going.

“How do you feel?”

“Tired, and cold,” she giggled, rubbing her hands on the skin of her arms, and shifting closer to the only warm source.

“I don’t have clothes, I could only lay you on that blanket because somebody dropped it in the bushes.”

“One of my friends,” she rolled her eyes, suddenly reminded of them again. She hoped they didn’t run back to look for her, honestly.

“It will be weird to explain,” Haechan whispered with a small chuckle on his lips.

She shrugged. “Are my clothes ripped that badly?”

He picked them up, they were torn in two with no hope of even putting an idea of clothes together. “I can’t control my strength.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll try to find the strength to walk back to the tent and pretend nothing happened,” she said, rubbing her hands together, feeling that her limbs were freezing now that she didn’t have his body radiating so much heat, and moving even closer to the fire, trying to don’t pay attention to the discomfort.

“Was it like you imagined?” Haechan finally dared to ask, shyly meeting her eyes, terrified of the answer. He was so good at screwing up, he didn’t even want to think about the few times he tried to get close to a human.

“Better,” she said, smiling when he looked down to hide the happy smile that was curling his lips too. “You’re so weird for being a monster.”

“I’m just… not used to people like you,” he confessed, lifting his gaze.

“Horny as fuck?”

“Dumbass, I didn’t mean that,” he rolled his eyes.

She laughed, shaking her head, looking up at the sky and thinking that it was so late and the walk back to their small camp was longer than ever in her condition. “Well, I better get going. As fun as it was, you also wrecked me and I think it will take some time to go back to the tent.” She stood up slowly, squirming in discomfort, forcing her muscles to do things they had no intention of doing.

“Wait, will you come back?”

Her lips curled into a teasing smile that then shifted into a tender one. “You want me to?”

Haechan hesitated, what was the point of lying? “Yes. I still want to strangle you sometimes but I like you.”

“Let’s do this, since this,” she pointed to her body, “is your fault and you still didn’t answer my questions. You’ll carry me back to my camp, we’ll chat about you, and then, we can even come up with a meeting plan.”

“A plan? It sounds serious,” he joked but he was already standing up to reach her.

“Isn’t it? Was I truly just a toy for you?” She winked, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around her body.

Haechan rolled his eyes, two tentacles slipping out of his back to lift her up in bridal style after he blew off the fire.

“It may all depend on the questions you’ll ask me. And I’d like to remind you that I can always kill you.”

She smiled, leaving a peck on his cheeks that made him pull away as he started to step into the forest, tentacles retracing, except the ones holding her up, his body heating up to don’t make her freeze.

“You won’t. We have some things to discuss and I think it could take a while, maybe when I’m not covered in your cum and in a nicer place.”

Haechan laughed, looking at her face, the usual teasing smirk barely curling her lips, and her eyes still looking at him with the same shine even if he could clearly tell that she was tired and was barely holding up. It would’ve been a miracle if she didn’t fall asleep in his hold on the way back.

“You are so weird. Are all humans like this?”

She smiled, snuggling closer to his chest, feeling his heart beating in his chest, “Only the best.”

TAGLIST: @kpopgirl124127 @kwnshi @auroraichimaru @kundann @gaonsgf | let me know if you want to be added by commenting under the INFERNO masterlist

A/N: hope you liked it! let me know with comments, reblogs or even asks ♡

#feedback #reblogs

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neowinestainedress · 15 days

Text

and to think i had planned a third part that would've been a win for all of us oc supporters 😭 but yeah it never happened so this whole series stays toxic af. i get the feeling of wanting to punch this jeno lmao. i'm happy you enjoyed it!

rose-colored glasses (all distorted) | lee jeno

title: rose-colored glasses (all distorted)

pairing: lee jeno x fem!oc/reader (no name used, written in third person) | mentioned: oc's brother!jaemin, lee haechan, park jisung

genre: bet!au, brother’s best friend, angst, smut, fluff (if you squint) | requested

summary: a long-lasting crush for her brother’s best friend, a bet, obsession, devotion and jealousy; all things that cannot lead to anything good. But the world that Jeno showed her was perfect and she couldn’t see what it really hid behind the rose-colored glasses. It was all distorted.

warnings: angst, manipulation, gaslighting, fights, jealousy, smut, fingering, oral sex (m and f), (semi) public sex (on Ferris wheel), pussyjob (i guess??), degradation, praise, dirty talk, unprotected sex, jealous sex, make-up sex, inexperienced!oc, feeling like tagging this dubcon bc of the heavy power imbalances (jeno is mean at the start and then he’s slightly possessive and she would do anything to have him in any way, do what you need to do with this information) but there’s always consent

words: 18.294k

a/n: i promise it’s a bet!au but with a darker twist. I enjoyed writing this even if it’s quite out of my comfort zone (please don’t make me write mean men anymore I need them to be himbo male wives) but as I said I’m happy with it so I hope the anon that requested it (and all of you) will like it anyway. This story has no intentions of romanticizing this kind of behaviour, if you realize you’re in a manipulative/toxic relationship please ask for help.

taglist: @wooyoung4eva @jenoxygen @sunshinedhyuck @kundann @jaeymark

Having a crush on her brother’s best friends was one of the dumbest things she could ever do. Especially when they had always been in two different leagues.

Jeno had always been the popular kid at school, after a few years of being a loser in middle school, he picked in high school and college. He was everybody’s first love, tall, charming, the captain of the basketball team, and he even had good grades.

She, on the other hand, was the opposite. Not a loser like the typical image of the silly girl with pigtails and round, big glasses who spent her days reading books. But still not popular enough to be at his level. She was reserved, she preferred minding her business and spending time with her few friends instead of living in the chaos of frat parties, or disco nights with people she barely knew. She was Jaemin’s sister but she couldn’t be any more different than him. Probably being his sister was the thing that worsened everything. Everybody expected her to be as cool as her brother, funny, cute and charming at the same time, but most importantly, not annoying.

And yet, all those differences didn’t stop her from falling for Jeno. It was rather impossible when he was always at their place. They grew up together. Sure, she was always a step behind, watching from the side, laughing at his jokes when nobody else did, reminding his birthday to Jaemin that never remembered, admiring him and cheering him silently for every accomplishment he made. But she was there, every day since she was ten falling for him deeper. By now she came to the conclusion it wasn’t just a stupid crush that was going to pass. Too many years had passed by and she still looked at him in the same, delusional, way. Even if Jeno never paid her much attention, no matter how hard she tried.

But it wasn’t like Jeno couldn’t see it. He knew she had a thing for him, he could see how she squirmed every time their bodies touched casually, or how big her lips curled when he greeted her and most importantly… rumors ran.

He knew. But there was something funny in keeping her on the edge, seeing that, somehow, the harsher he treated her, the more she came back, wagging her tail every time he acted just a little bit nicer than usual.

And his group of friends knew too, always joking about it when they all stayed at Jaemin’s place and he left for a few minutes, giving them the opportunity to talk about his sister that always found a way to go downstairs just to say hello. So they talked about her a lot, chuckling, joking, saying that overall she wasn’t that bad and maybe he could’ve given it a try. But all of them were a little bit too competitive. Jeno was sure that if he only gave her a bit more she would’ve fallen to her knees, Haechan believing that she was too proud and innocent to actually risk it for him, while Jisung listened, laughing, but not believing she would’ve given up so easily.

But Jeno was firm in his belief. He knew she was already his. But it was risky; she wasn’t just anybody, she was his best friend’s sister, and even if Jaemin never showed to care much about her, he knew it was still a dangerous game to play.

But Jeno was a player, and he loved risky games.

“What are you doing here?” She exclaimed when, turning around, she saw Jeno lean against her bedroom doorframe. “Jaemin’s not home.”

“I know,” he replied, shrugging and making his way in. “I wasn’t looking for Jaemin.”

She furrowed, trying not to panic over the fact he had never been so close to her with nobody else around. “Our parents aren’t home.”

He snickered, “I’m not looking for them, either.”

“Then who are you looking for?” Her voice betrayed her, shaking a bit, but she shrugged it off with an awkward chuckle.

“Damn, you are dumb, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“I’m looking for you,” he said, sitting on her bed, and looking around. “Jesus, you do love pink,” he exclaimed, almost with a hint of disgust in his voice.

“Can you tell me what are you doing in my room?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest and standing in front of him, having no idea where she found the courage, and deciding to let the comment about her room fall.

“I’m throwing a party this weekend,” he explained, placing his hands behind him on the mattress, stretching his legs out and tilting his head to the side, “wanted to know if you were coming.”

She laughed awkwardly, shaking her head. “You are inviting me?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“You hated when my mom forced you to bring me along.”

“Yeah, because you were a loser back then and annoyed the fuck out of me.”

She gasped, staring at him in disbelief. “This is how you are inviting me to a party?”

“I said ‘were’, I think we can get along now,” he said, standing up, and leaning close to her. “Or am I wrong?” He whispered while his hand placed on her waist, making her move back in surprise, but he stopped her, gripping tighter.

She gulped, lifting her head, and stared at him. “You barely talk to me…”

Jeno smirked, caressing her cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, maybe I want things to change.”

She swallowed, trying to keep her eyes on his and not on his lips, fighting the urge to lean in and kiss him. This meant nothing. Jeno never looked at her like that. So why would he start doing it now?

“Do you want things to change between us?” He asked, almost cooing, moving his thumb on her lips, grazing gently.

“Ye-yeah, I do,” she said, snapping out of her thoughts and pulling back, turning around to hide the big breath she was taking now that she wasn’t in his hold anymore. But Jeno knew it anyway; she always did that even when he barely touched her or stood too close to her for more than two minutes.

“Great, see you this Saturday, then,” Jeno smiled, winking at her before closing the door behind him.

Her heart was beating ten times faster than usual, and a grin was not leaving his face until he walked downstairs and saw Jaemin. That was going to be fun, but he needed to be careful.

The party wasn’t chaotic like the high-school parties he and Jaemin used to plan every time their parents weren’t home, it was mostly their closest friends and some other people she had never seen before. But the music wasn’t too loud, there was nobody already drunken or high, lying on the floor, and most importantly, there weren’t couples all over each other in the living room.

She found out later from her brother that it was an inauguration for the house Jeno just bought, finally free out of his parent’s clutches. But of him, there were no traces.

She had been wandering around the place for like ten minutes now, a drink in hand as she hummed to the music playing from the speakers. Pushing the black dress she was wearing down her thighs, regretting the choice every two seconds she took a step and it rolled a little bit more up on her legs.

“I was looking for you everywhere.”

“You scared me!” She screamed, turning around too swiftly and spilling the alcohol all over his shirt, gasping and biting her lips nervously when she realized what she had done. “I’m sorry, shit, sorry. I can help you fix that.”

“Enough,” Jeno stopped her, blocking her empty hand from touching his wet chest. “My bedroom, now.”

“Yo-your bedroom?” She stuttered as he dragged her upstairs, leaving the party behind. “What are we doing in your bedroom?”

Jeno laughed mockingly, pushing her inside. “We’re fixing the mess you made. Why? Thought I was dragging you here to fuck?”

She moved her mouth without letting out a sound, feeling shame creep over her face.

“Yes? Want me to fuck you, babe?” He asked, lifting her head up by the chin and smirking at her flustered face.

“I – no, why would I?” She chuckled awkwardly, pulling away. “If you get changed, I can clean it, and then I’ll give it back to you once it dried,” she said, bringing the topic back to his stained shirt.

“I have a washing machine here,” he said, hands moving to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, making her get lost in his toned chest and abs. She had never seen him so exposed, but she was sure as hell that he had never been like this before.

“Close your mouth,” he ordered.

“It’s closed,” she retorted, grunting but still diverting her gaze from him.

“Sure,” he chuckled, throwing the dirty shirt on his desk chair; he didn’t even care about the shirt, he just wanted to spend time alone with her. “Anyway, I need you to help me pick another one.”

“That’s why I am here?”

“Yeah, I told you, I don’t want to fuck you.”

“Stop it. I don’t want either,” she replied, biting her lower lip nervously and tapping her high heels against the floor.

Jeno studied her, another smirk curled his lips before he sighed. “Help me fix the mess you made so we can go to the party and have some fun.”

When they reached downstairs again, she had no idea how she was still standing on her feet, staying too close to him and helping him close the buttons of the new shirt he picked got in her brain. Jeno pointing out all her weird antics didn’t help her much at relaxing. And just when she thought she was free and could find a corner to dance alone and then run home and avoid him forever, she got dragged on the couches.

“We’re playing truth or dare,” Haechan chanted, making her sit next to him. “You can’t miss it.”

“Truth or dare? How old are we? Fifteen?” She asked, looking around at the others, hoping somebody was going to back her up.

“That’s why I never wanted to bring you along,” Jaemin booed, “because you’re boring.”

She wanted to talk back, but the hums of agreement of his friends made her shut her mouth and squeeze more in her place.

“We’re starting from the youngest,” Haechan said.

“Man, why always from me?” Jisung huffed, rolling his eyes, receiving a look from his friend. “Fine, truth.”

So they started playing, too many dumb dares and too spicy truths for her liking, but she tried to be likeable and don’t be a buzzkill.

“Truth,” she chose for the first round, fearing the question, already knowing it was going to be something embarrassing or something she couldn’t answer because it wasn’t like she had many adventures.

“Where was the wildest place you ever had sex?” Haechan asked, making her face heat up immediately.

“Dude, that’s disgusting, she’s my sister,” Jaemin whined, turning around and fake-gagging.

But she was standing still, wanting to die under the interrogating gazes of the others. “I… I only did it in a bed,” she confessed as her eyes skimmed all over the room to avoid the mocking smirks on the others’ faces.

“Wow, yeah, should’ve expected it from you,” he mocked, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

She bit her lip, nervously playing with the hem of her dress, until her eyes met Jeno’s. He was staring at her but she couldn’t decipher what he was hiding under his gaze or if his lips were turned in a genuine smile or a mocking one. But it didn’t matter… well, it didn’t until she had the brilliant idea of picking dare.

“Guess what, we’re hoping you can spice up your life in one night,” Haechan joked. “You have to play seven minutes in heaven with Jeno,” he said, turning around and winking at his friends.

She expected Jeno to gag or complain about the pairing, but he didn’t. He looked at her, stood up and then reached his hand for her to grab. She hesitated, looking over at Jaemin for approval, but she gagged instead when she saw a girl all over him.

“Come on,” Jeno urged her, making her drift her gaze from her brother. “I’ve got a brand-new closet to try.”

The walk to his bedroom was silent as she felt panic run in her veins.

“You know that it doesn’t have to be sex, right? You can also just talk while playing seven minutes in heaven,” she mumbled when he opened the bedroom and started walking to the closet. “Or we could do nothing, that’s also valid, you –”

“Will you shut up for a second?” He asked, turning around, stopping in front of her, pushing her inside before closing the doors behind them. “Great, so much better for my ears,” he huffed. “And, to answer your annoying questions, no, there’s no fun in that.”

“We can’t do that in seven minutes,” she muttered. “Also you said you didn’t like me like that, you said that just before, you-” When he shushed her with a kiss she felt her knees buckle and her heart race and it felt like a fever dream.

“That’s something that shouldn’t happen in this game, you know? No kissing allowed.”

“No kisses but sex yes?”

He chuckled, making her walk back, sitting her on a small white desk next to the wall, dress lifting up, barely covering half of her thighs. “Weird, isn’t it?”

She hummed, breath shaking when his cold hands ran on her naked thigh. “Wait, I’ve never done this.”

“I thought you said you did it in a bed?”

“I – I did but it was ages ago and it was…” she stopped, embarrassed, “it was bad.”

“Oh, yeah, not surprised,” he replied. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpered when his fingers grazed her panties.

“I think your body trusts me,” he whispered against her neck when he moved the panties to the side and felt how wet she was. “Is this from before? Did seeing me half-naked got you like this?”

“N-no, why would it, mmh,” she stopped when his fingers started circling on her clit. “We shouldn’t – we shouldn’t –”

“Do this?” He asked, smirking and pushing a finger inside her, making her roll her head back against the wall. “I will make you come if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not your ex-boyfriend.”

“Jeno –”

“Shh,” he shushed her, lips barely brushing against hers, “you don’t have to hold it back,” he whispered, starting to move his fingers inside her wet pussy. “I know you want this so badly. You’ve been dreaming about my fingers for so long,” he cooed, smirking when she lowered her head in embarrassment. “It’s alright, baby. A lot of people would want these fingers buried inside of them… and you are the lucky one tonight.”

“You won’t tell Jaemin, right?”

He snickered, “what happens here is a secret, honey. Just relax, stop being so serious, that’s why nobody can’t stand you. You think too much.”

She was about to open her mouth again and talk back but when his two fingers curled inside of her and hit the spot that made her tremble, she could only try to hold in the whimpers and let her head fall against his shoulder.

“There,” he hummed, “so much better.”

“Mhh,” she mumbled, her hand reached for his other arm and squeezed tight, trying to hold onto something, “feels good.”

“I know, baby, I know. He didn’t give it to you like this, right?” He teased, moving his hand to reach for her hair and force her head up so he could look at her face, eyelashes fluttering and lips parted to let out low moans. “What about this?” He asked, adding a third finger and starting to move his thumb on her clit, eliciting a choked sob to roll out of her mouth and to open her eyes fully. “You like this?” He asked, but he knew the answer, she was dripping over his hand and her hips were rolling against his thumb searching for more friction.

“Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lips, nails digging into his arm when he started to move faster into her, making her try to close her legs, embarrassed by the lewd sounds of her wetness, but Jeno only smirked and forced her legs parted.

“No, pretty,” he whispered, “want to see you.”

“I think I… I’m close,” she confessed, feeling her body burn up and a new weird sensation build up in her stomach.

“You think?” He asked, tapping her cheek so she would open her eyes. “Oh… he never made you come?”

She nodded, diverting her gaze again, feeling the sensation intensify with every thrust of his fingers. “Mhh, it’s too much, feels – feels too good,” she whimpered, hips grinding against him, and lower lip bleeding for how hard she was biting on it. But Jeno couldn’t care, he knew she could take it, she simply wasn’t used to it, but he was going to make her get used to it. This was just a preview of everything he could give to her, a small window on the world he could show her.

“Come,” he ordered, “I don’t think we have much time. And you don’t want Haechan to hear you moan like a whimpering mess, right?”

She shook her head before throwing it back, feeling a new sensation rush over her, her stomach tightened and her toes curled in her shoes while her hips bucked up against him.

“No more, no more,” she whimpered, trying to push him away.

“Shh, it’s alright, baby, it’s alright,” he shushed her, thumb grazing her cheek. She blinked, trying to shake the dizziness out of her brain, eyes falling on his lips, wishing she could taste them again because the kiss of before was so unexpected that her brain didn’t even have time to register it.

And Jeno knew it, but he needed her to crawl back to him, he couldn’t give her everything just yet. He needed time, precious time, filled with tests and games that she needed to pass and then maybe she would’ve gotten to him. He couldn’t even care about that stupid bet anymore, if the time was ticking and he needed to get with her in two months, he wanted to have her in the palm of his hands and play with her like a puppet.

“I told you I could make you feel good like nobody else ever did,” he said, winking, pulling away, leaving her sitting on the desk, slowly realizing what just happened. “Like nobody else ever will,” he whispered, turning around, waiting for Haechan to call them down again.

She shouldn’t have felt special. She shouldn’t have felt the butterflies fly in her stomach just because Jeno touched her for a stupid game. Yet, she did. Jeno was the only thing that filled her thoughts for the passing weeks. When she was trying to work. When she watched a movie. And when her hands shily moved on her body, desperately trying to replicate the feeling his fingers made her feel.

But nothing came close to him. She needed him, every day a little bit more than the day before. But the more she craved him, the more he seemed ephemeral. She couldn’t reach him, she didn’t have his number, and she never dared to sneak into her brother’s phone to steal it. She already looked pathetic in his eyes, so she needed to win him in another way. She needed to appear charming in his eyes and make him fall for her for real. But she didn’t know what he liked, or well, the only thing she knew he liked for sure wasn’t going to make him fall for her. But it was something. And something was better than nothing.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll wait here.” As soon as those words slipped out of Jeno’s mouth and Jaemin closed the main door behind him, she took the last steps on the stairs to reach him, running to the couch, waiting for him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked when, coming back to his seat, he saw her sit there.

“Because it’s my home?” She replied, playing dumb. “I thought both of you left.”

“But I’m right here, so…”

“Wanna watch a movie with me?” She asked, ignoring the way he was, not so subtly, trying to make her leave.

He snorted, “why would I want to watch a movie with you?”

“Because I’m bored.”

“You are bored, not me,” he huffed, sitting down. “Also, Jaemin will be back soon, we don’t have time for a movie.”

She shifted, sitting on her knees and placing her hands on his shoulder, “Then can we do something else?”

He looked at her up and down, trying to study her expression, “Like?”

“Promise you won’t tell anybody?”

“What are you on?”

“I know we said we weren’t going to talk about that night,” she started and Jeno stopped her immediately. “Exactly, so why are you bringing it up?”

“Let me finish, please,” she begged, and Jeno nodded, curios to know where she wanted to go. “It was… good. I mean, you are good so, I was thinking that maybe we could…”

“You want to be my sex buddy?” He finished for her, a mocking smile on his face.

“I want you to teach me,” she confessed, feeling shame take over.

Jeno raised a brow, tilting his head, “you want sex lessons from me?”

She nodded, lip trapped in her teeth.

“What makes you think I want to spend time with you? Especially like that.”

She stammered, not knowing what to answer and he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, fine, since you want my attention so bad, let’s try this,” he said, turning around, face so much closer to hers now. “You have to prove to me that it won’t be a total loss of time.”

“H-how?”

He smirked, moving a strand of hair out of her face, “I gave you something the other week, didn’t I?” She hummed. “Give it back to me.”

“I told you I don’t know how to do it, it’s not fair.”

“Alright, consider this the first trial lesson. If you’re not a total failure, which I doubt, I’ll give you what you want.”

Her eyes moved around the room, suddenly realizing how dumb everything was. That was a bad idea. That was the lowest point she could reach just to have him somehow.

“You know what, I… I think I don’t need those lessons,” she said, jumping off the couch but she had no time to walk around it that Jeno was already in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

“I know you don’t really want these lessons,” he said, pushing her back against the couch. “All you want is my attention, isn’t it? You got a taste,” he whispered, lips almost touching hers, making her lean closer, only making him smirk, “and you can’t get enough.”

She wanted to deny it but there was no point anyway. It was written all over her face. It was in the way her thighs were squeezed together. It was in the way she had never worn clothes this revealing before around him.

“Am I right?” He asked again because he wanted to hear those words slip out of her mouth, he wanted her to admit how obsessed she was with him.

“Yes, I can’t get enough.”

He smirked before moving his hand down on her neck, thumb caressing her jaw, “So… do you want to have a bigger taste?”

She nodded and then dropped to her knees when he pushed her down. Hesitant, shaky hands moved to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans and underwear down, exposing his already half-hard cock.

“Can you get me hard?” He asked, already knowing that it was a matter of seconds with the way she was looking up at him.

No words slipped out of her mouth, she only nodded and then started pumping his dick, but his stern gaze made her lower her face.

“God, I really have to teach you,” he complained, rolling his head back and sighing loudly. “Open your mouth, your hands are useless.”

“Good,” he moaned when she parted her lips and stuck her tongue out. “See, you know how to do it, you just don’t want me to think you do.”

She was about to retort when he pushed almost all the way down, making her gag around him. But the discomfort didn’t last long, it felt unexpectedly good. She liked the sensation of his length on her tongue, or how she could feel the slight throbs when she sucked harder. But what she liked the most was the way Jeno’s face was contorted in pleasure and how deep moans came out of his lips.

“Don’t give me those – fuck – innocent eyes. Where did you learn, uh? With porn – shit – or reading?” He asked when she opened her eyes and met his, making him lose his mind.

“No, don’t answer, I don’t care where you learned. I just – fuck – need you to keep doing that. Keep sucking,” he ordered, making a makeshift ponytail with her hair and guiding her on his length. “Can you take all of it?”

Her eyes snapped up, looking at him, silently telling him that she couldn’t.

“Oh, you can’t?” He snickered. “But I’m here to teach you. That’s what you wanted, right? For me – fuck – to teach you. Then learn,” he said, pushing deeper down, making her gag around it. “Relax your jaw and breathe through your nose,” he told her, slowing down, pushing out before sliding in again. “Good girl, just like that,” he praised, and her thighs clenched together at his words, feeling wetness pool in her panties. “You are good at this,” he smirked, eyes glistening as he watched her concentrated expression and the way her cheeks hollowed around his girth and her tongue twirled around his head when she reached the tip.

“Do you exercise with Jaemin’s other friends? Uhm? Or am I the only one?” He grinned when she shook her head, still not pulling away from him. “No? The only one? The only one you get on your knees for?”

She nodded again, stopping working on him to breathe again, “o-only you,” she said, glossy eyes looking up at him, drool dripping down her chin.

“Can you be a good girl and take more for me?” He asked, wiping the drool away, and lifting her chin up.

“More?” She asked, voice trembling.

He hummed, “Can you let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours? You don’t have to do anything but keep your mouth open for me.”

“Yea-yeah, I can,” she replied, parting her lips again and giving him full access. A muffled moan rolled out of her lips as soon as his hold on her hair tightened and he started thrusting into her mouth fast.

“Fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back, “you feel good. Are you sure this is – fuck – your first time?”

She tried to nod, hands wrapping around his thighs as she started gagging more around him. “What, baby? Want to breathe?” He cooed but without stopping. “Here. Take a deep breath, just like that,” he said when he pulled out of her, making her cough to catch her breath again.

“Oh, look at you, opening your mouth again,” he said, tugging her hair and pushing into her mouth again. “I thought you were going to start – fuck – crying. But no – shit – you love this, don’t you?” He teased, staring into her watery eyes, feeling his orgasm close already.

She nodded, squeezing her eyes when he hit deeper, gagging around his length.

“It’s alright, baby,” he moaned, “I’m close. Gonna fill your pretty mouth and you – fuck – you will take it all like a good girl, uh?”

She moaned around him, closing her eyes, trying to relax more as his thrusts got faster, closing her thighs together, skin burning up in shame as she felt her panties get wetter and stick to her skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gritting his teeth and coming into her mouth. “Swallow it. Everything,” he ordered, pushing lazily into her mouth, emptying himself before pulling out. “Everything,” he repeated, grabbing her chin, and making her look up at him, watching as she swallowed all of his cum. “Good girl,” he praised her, leaning in, making her believe he was going to kiss her but instead he licked a stripe of seed that dripped on her chin and smirked at her disappointed face.

“Get up, you don’t want your brother to find you on your knees in front of my cock, right?” He said, reaching out his hand, helping her stand up after he pulled his pants back up.

“Come here,” he whispered, cleaning her chin with a napkin and fixing her messy hair. “That’s better, isn’t it?” He asked and she hummed, diverting her gaze from his, nervously playing with her fingers and squeezing her thighs together, feeling her pussy throb for how turned on she was. And Jeno knew it, but she needed to be patient. Time. He needed to take time.

“What’s with that face? You wanted the whole thing, didn’t you? You have to earn it.”

After that, other weeks of silence passed. Jeno only said hi when he passed over and nothing else. And she started to realize that she was being played, or better, that she was playing right into his fantasy, so she needed to get him out of his mind.

But it wasn’t like she had any idea of how to stop thinking about him. She had tried for more than 10 years to stop her heart from beating so fast every time she saw his face, or don’t stutter every time he addressed her. And she never succeeded. So how could she do it now? Now that she got so much more than a taste, now that she knew what his lips tasted like, now that she knew what his fingers felt like, now that she could scent his perfume every time she closed her eyes.

And, worst of it all, it felt like Jeno knew when she would start to get tired of playing this game of push and pull and always came back to her, every time giving her a bit more, and yet, a bit less.

And then one day everything changed.

“Hey! You’re soaked.” His voice rang in the late afternoon in the middle of the street. It was raining and she forgot to bring an umbrella with her, also, she couldn’t call anybody because her parents and Jaemin were out of town.

“Yeah, I can see it,” she whispered, keeping on walking, not wanting to turn around and fall on her knees more.

“Stop walking and get in, you’re gonna get sick,” he screamed, driving behind her slowly.

“As if you care,” she mumbled, trying to shield her body from the cold, cringing at the way the raindrops fell inside her clothes and wet her skin.

“I do care,” he whispered, grabbing her arm, and turning her around, chest to chest, rain wetting them both. “And now get in.”

“I don’t need you to come and save me –”

“I said, get in,” he ordered, sharp eyes looking into hers, not giving her a chance to talk back or disagree. So she lowered her head and walked to the passenger seat without saying a word.

“You can’t live without me,” he whispered when they were both in the car and started driving again in the chaos of Seoul’s streets.

“You’re so full of yourself,” she huffed, crossing her leg on top of the other and turning her body toward the window, watching as the drops ran on the glass and the lights outside appeared blurred.

“You are mad at me because I didn’t reach for you this week,” he said, tapping his fingers on the wheel, and it took a lot for her to don’t turn around and stare at them and imagine once again how they ran on her body and made her shiver. “Tell me I am wrong, come on.”

She pressed her lips in a thin line, and then brushed her hair behind, “No, you are not wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, making her turn around in surprise, eyes focusing on his face, studying his profile, wondering why he apologized. “I didn’t want to leave you hanging for so long, I’ve been busy.”

She hummed, looking in front of them this time, and squeezing in the passenger seat. Not replying because it didn’t matter anyway. He had been clear, she meant nothing to him, so what was the point of building up castles that were going to fall?

“Why are you not taking me home?” she asked when she realized he was driving in another direction.

“I know nobody’s home, don’t want to leave you alone,” he explained, coming to a stop at a streetlight, facing her and smiling… his sweet smile? The kind of smile he never, ever directed at her?

“I’m an adult, I can stay home alone,” she replied anyway. She needed to push him away, she couldn’t keep falling for his game, no matter how sweet he appeared to be. It probably was fake, just so he could brag with Jaemin about how much of a gentleman he was and didn’t let his little sister all alone in the middle of a storm.

“You wanted my company so badly the other day, why is it different now?” He grinned, before moving his hand on the shift to start the car again and sprint toward his place.

“We won’t fuck tonight.”

“Never said we had to,” he replied.

“Then why do you want me at your place?”

He shrugged, pulling into his driveway. “Are you sure you’re the only one that can’t live without the other?”

She stood there, frozen on the spot, brain struggling to register his words and to comprehend if what she understood was what he meant. He liked her too? He wanted to spend time with her?

“Wait,” she said, opening the door and running outside. Trying to don’t get wetter under the rain, reaching him under the porch while he struggled with the keys to open the do. “You find me annoying, you said you don’t want to spend time with me, you avoided me for so long, why do you do this?”

Jeno sighed, throwing his jacket somewhere and getting out of his shoes as soon as they stepped in. “Undress.”

“What! You said we weren’t going to have sex.”

“It’s to give you new clothes, dummy,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Follow me,” he said, walking to his room, a path she knew too well by now, and yet her breathe faltered just like the first time she found herself there. And it didn’t matter that nothing was going to happen, it was the thrill of being so intimate with him somehow.

“You didn’t answer,” she complained while he looked for something to give her in his closet. He turned around, a white shirt in hand, giving it to her that was now only covered with her panties and bra.

“I find you annoying but maybe I like it,” he replied. “You look interesting under the surface.”

She didn’t want to smile so big but her lips moved automatically, a dumb smile creeping on her face, eyes glistening.

“Calm, now,” he warned as soon as he saw her reaction. “This doesn’t mean we are dating, but I wouldn’t mind spending time with you. And now get dressed, before I don’t keep up with the promise of before.”

The heat of the house made them find comfort from the cold outside while they eat something while the television was turned on mostly to fill the silence between them.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” She asked while cleaning her lips from the soy sauce that dripped on her mouth.

“What?”

“Everything,” she said. “We’ve known each other for so long but… we don’t really know anything about us.”

“You don’t?” He quirked a brow, licking his lips before placing down the empty bowl. “You think Jaemin didn’t tell me about all the questions you used to ask?”

Her cheeks heated up, cursing lowly at her brother for not being able to keep a secret. “Okay, fine, but he’s not you. I don’t know it from you.”

“Maybe you should tell me something about you. I think I can read you easily but not enough to get somewhere,” he said. “And you want to get somewhere, right?”

She hummed and then took a deep breath before opening up. Talking over and over again, letting him know even the most irrelevant things about her. Letting him go deeper than anybody else, not even caring if something was embarrassing. She trusted him.

And Jeno listened, finding out that yes, she was a lot, but maybe it wasn’t so annoying. And the more he knew about her, the better.

And then he started speaking. But his words were calculated, just like the stories he was telling. He knew what he was saying, he knew what he was doing. He was giving her a piece of himself without actually giving her anything. Without letting her slip deep under his skin. Yet for her it was enough, no, for her it was everything. She had never seen him so open, had never seen his body so relaxed beside hers, no walls were diving them right there. And that, mixed with all the sweet tempting words from before, made her fall into a vortex from which she would never get out.

Jeno had trapped her in his golden cage, but she did not know it yet, and probably, she would’ve never realized that.

“Why are you so happy?” Jaemin asked his sister, staring at her with a disgusted expression on his face. She had been hopping instead of walking for days, always had a smile on her face, and strangely she wasn’t clingy, always locked in her room, only God knows doing what.

“Why do you care? Shouldn’t you be happy that your sister’s happy?” She asked back, pouting before grabbing something to eat and running upstairs again, hiding from her brother’s questions.

Jeno had kissed her.

After talking for hours, after being so close and at the same time so far away, Jeno leaned close to her and kissed her. This time for real. A slow, sweet kiss. A kiss that she had well imprinted in her mind.

But not only that. His hands had touched her skin, trembling, and full of shivers. His long, slender fingers had trailed over her thighs, and then over her hip and held her close to him. And if she closed her eyes she could still relive all those emotions, from his scent to his eyes that had never been so real and close to her before.

Also, they had slept together. She, Jaemin’s delusional sister who had fantasized so much and for so long about ending up in his arms, had slept in Jeno’s bed.

And not like the other girls he let pass in his bed before, asleep in a tangle of sheets and sweat and cum. No, they slept in fresh, clean sheets, with his arms around her waist and his breath hitting the back of her neck. And although in the morning when she had woken up, he was not there, that was enough.

Because Jeno was in the kitchen preparing breakfast and bidding her good morning with a smile on his face that tasted like something new, something genuine. Big brown eyes creasing up in half-moons and cheeks lifting up.

Though… there was a but.

‘You can’t tell anyone about this.’ He had told her as he drove her home, serious gaze facing the road, one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other caressing her thigh. ‘It’s our little secret. You know how to keep secrets, don’t you?’

And she nodded, confident that she could do it. That if she had kept her crush on him a secret for so long, she surely could keep their ... relationship a secret? Or friendship? Or friends with benefits? She had no idea, she didn’t know what bound them together, she didn’t even know if there was actually anything that tied them together. But it didn’t matter, if it wasn’t now, it would be in a few months. It was only a matter of time. Jeno wanted to get to know her, Jeno wanted her to be a part of his life as much as she wished he was a part of hers.

‘hey, it’s me. are you free this friday?’

She blinked twice, shifting her attention from her pc to the phone beside it, trying to understand why an unknown number was texting her until she opened the message and ‘– jeno’ appeared at the end.

‘how did you get my number?’

‘i have my ways 😉 anyway, for friday? i need to buy some things for my place, it’s too empty, thought you could help’

She breathed deeply, looking around only to waste time and not answer right away just to don’t look desperate. As if she didn’t already answer ‘yes’ in her mind even before she knew what they were going to do, as if she wouldn’t have always been available for him.

‘yep, fine by me. where do we meet?’ She replied after a few minutes, hands sweating and heart throbbing harder in her ribcage.

‘my place, i’ll drive.’

And that wasn’t a date, surely not a date like she always imagined but it was something. It was nice not hearing him huff annoyed at her every word, or seeing that he didn’t move away from her with a disgusted face when their hands brushed together casually. He even laughed at her unfunny jokes.

“Our parents were never home,” she said. After buying everything, he offered to buy her a milkshake in a small coffee shop at the mall, so now they were sitting at a table in front of each other. “I mean, even when they were, they never paid much attention to us.”

“That’s why I was always there,” Jeno chuckled. “Your mother couldn’t see the mess me and Nana made.”

She smiled, lifting her gaze on him, but still stirring the liquid in her glass. “I wanted to move out of there so many times, but my job barely makes me afford my car bills and the few hobbies I have. How did you do it?”

“Well, it’s not fair when your dad pays half of it, right?”

“Your parents are cool. I remember when they used to bring you and Jaem to the amusement park. I never went there.”

“Never? Not even once?” He asked, surprised.

“Nope,” she confessed, biting her lower lip, already embarrassed at what she was about to say. “I always wanted to win a bunny from the water gun game,” she confessed. “You won it to Jaemin once. I was so jealous of that plushie.”

He smiled. “Well, I might win one just for you.”

Her eyes lit up, locking into his, heart doing cart-wheels in her chest. “You would?”

He hummed, hand under his chin, rubbing it lightly, “Why not? Next Saturday? How’s that sound?”

“It sounds amazing,” she squealed. “I love you so much.��

He smiled, looking at her, feeling a bit of warmth spread in his chest. Maybe she was nice. Maybe betting on her wasn’t the right way to start this.

When Saturday night arrived, she was vibrating with excitement. Wearing a red top, a leather black jacket and black shorts, she grabbed her small bag and rushed outside, swiftly warning her parents and Jaemin that she was going out with her friend and she wasn’t sure she was coming back. Receiving no answer.

But she didn’t care, she couldn’t care if at home nobody paid her attention. She had a date with Lee Jeno. Jeno was taking her to an amusement park for the first time and he would’ve even tried to win her a big, soft bunny she desired so much. So not even the bus ride – that she usually hated – to his place bothered her at all.

“Hi,” she greeted shily when she walked into the driveway and saw him leaning against his car. Black jeans wrapping around his legs, black shirt covering his chest and red jacket shielding him from the light breeze of the night.

“Hi, bunny. We’re matching,” he pointed out, dragging his eyes on her body and then smiling when their eyes met.

“Yeah, we didn’t even plan it,” she replied, a shy smile widening her lips as she opened the car door and stepped inside.

The car ride felt different from the others. The atmosphere was light while music played on the radio and they hummed along. There were no side-eyeing or annoyed sighs coming out of his lips like it used to happen when he was forced to bring her along because they couldn’t leave Jaemin’s sister alone. Now, Jeno glimpsed at her, diverting his attention from the street, with his lips curling in a warm smile.

And even the whole date at the amusement park was different from all the other times they hung out together.

It was like being around a different Jeno. He was carefree, laughing at her bad puns. He was kind, always paying for the rides tickets, drinks and food or wrapping a hand around her shoulders when they tried scarier attractions and she was afraid. And he looked beautiful, more than usual. There was something magnetic in the way his black hair framed his face, and his lips curled in soft smiles, making his eyes crinkle up too. He radiated a new sense of safeness. And she knew for sure that she was falling deeper.

“Now that we tried everything there’s only one thing missing,” Jeno said, dragging her toward the biggest attraction.

“The Ferris wheel?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him, fighting back the urge to intertwine their hands together. Jeno had been rather touchy the whole night, but she didn’t want to cross lines and ruin the amazing night they had.

“Yeah, are you scared?” He asked, waiting in line. “You have me by your side,” he said and then leaned in, whispering next to her ear, “and when you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about.”

She hummed, torturing her lower lip and shifting closer to him, and, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arm around her waist, and she had no idea how her knees didn’t fail her and make her fall to the ground. She didn’t even know how she didn’t pass out for the whole queue since his fingers kept caressing her skin.

“We should be able to see the whole city when we get up there,” Jeno commented, looking around waiting for the wheel to start moving now that they were inside of a cabin, sitting next to each other.

“Yeah, I guess,” she hummed, legs buckling in nervousness, and squeezing in her arms to avoid attaching to him like a koala on a tree.

Jeno picked it up quickly and turned to her with a furrow. “Are you afraid of heights for real?”

“M-me?” She giggled awkwardly. “No, haha.”

“You are shaking like a leaf,” he pointed out, hand resting on her thigh to stop – at least – one of her legs from shaking.

“I’m fine,” she replied, taking a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the way the ride was moving and how – in fact – Seoul was shining beneath them. “What was that?” She asked, panicking when they felt a jolt and the cabin stopped at the higher spot.

“I think it stopped,” Jeno replied. “A planned stop… I guess.”

“Planned? Or maybe the wheel broke, and we will fall, no, no, we will crash on the ground and you know there are no chances of surviving and this will be how we die? What will we tell my family, they don’t know about us, they think –”

He kissed her, hands cupping her cheeks and pushing her close, air cutting short in her lungs not from fear but the chills that he was making run down her spine. “It’s alright,” he whispered, slightly pulling away. “I told you, you have me.”

She looked at him not totally convinced because if the cabin fell, having him by her side wasn’t going to save her. Surely, it would’ve made her death sweeter, oddly, and tragically romantic but it was still death.

“I’m sure it’s just to show the view,” he explained, kissing her again, and again, and then his lips moved down, kissing away the chills on her exposed neck. “But since you don’t like the view…” he whispered, cupping her right boob, squeezing just enough to make her roll her head back. “I can give you something to keep you distracted. What do you think?”

“Yeah,” she moaned, “I’d like that.” She unconsciously parted her legs, not a single cross about being in public crossing her mind.

“Great,” he smiled, biting the skin of her collarbone, “feared you were going to turn down the offer.” His hands slipped down, cupping her mound and he grinned when her hips started grinding against his palm. “Oh, oh, keep doing it, keep grinding on me. It feels good, doesn’t it? The seam of the jeans pressed against your clit by my hand makes you go crazy, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, opening her eyes to look into his.

“You know, I thought you should’ve worn a skirt for practical reasons but this – shit,” he whispered when her moans got lower and deeper, “this is even better.”

“I need you,” she whimpered, hands moving to try to touch him.

“I know you do,” he cooed, “you’ve tried so hard to hold back all this time, the whole night trying to keep your hands to yourself because you just can’t help yourself, can you? Want to feel me,” he said, pressing harder against her covered pussy as she kept grinding against him, “no, no you need to feel me.”

“Yes, please,” she whimpered, leaning closer to him, making their lips meet again in small kisses.

“Can you do something for me?” She stopped moving for a second, confused by his request, but nodded. “Come in your panties like this,” he started explaining, tapping her hips to make her start moving again, “and then I’ll give you what you want.”

And she did, even if it felt humiliating to come like that, grinding against his palm as if she was desperate, making a mess in her already drenched panties and barely holding back the moans. But it was all worth it when he smiled against her lips and whispered, “good girl, you are my good girl. Learning so fast, aren’t you? Making me so proud of you.”

“Come here,” Jeno said, unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his cock. “Take your shorts and panties off.”

“He-here?” She mumbled, panic running behind her open eyes. The cabin next to theirs couldn’t see them, the black windows shielding each crib hid them well, but it was such an exposed place anyway.

“You heard me. Want to make you try something new. Come on, take them off and sit on my lap,” he ordered and she followed his instruction, trying to hide the stained black panties in her shorts as if he couldn’t feel the mess of her cunt as soon as she sat on his lap.

“You’re going to ride me, but I won’t get inside you.” Her face dropped, a bit because she couldn’t get how and because she just wanted to get there and finally have him, completely. But Jeno wanted to take it slow, he wanted to make her dance in the palm of his hand more, twirling around, following every single one of his words so well that he fell more and more every day.

“Spit on your hand,” he ordered. “Like that, and now wrap it around my cock. You want it to slide perfectly between your lips, right?” Not that it was needed since her wetness was already making his cock slip against her so easily, but he loved seeing how much she obeyed him with no hesitation. He loved seeing that she would’ve done anything for him.

She nodded, doing as he told, eyes glistening because he was already so hard and it was all because of her, for her.

“Don’t,” he stopped her when he could feel her trying to tease his cockhead against her entrance, “no fucking, remember?”

“But why?” She huffed, pouting.

“I want to save it for a special occasion for my special girl,” he replied before placing his hands on her naked waist and guiding her hips on top of him. “Just grind on me, remember before? Like you did with my hand?” She nodded, hand wrapping around his neck and forehead falling against his. “Do it with my cock, just like that,” he praised, kissing her gently. “Feel how good it is? It’s big isn’t it?”

“Yeah, so big.”

“Imagine it inside of you, stretching so much more than my fingers. Remember my fingers? How you dripped all over them and came so easily?” She hummed, hips bucking in shame and legs shaking at the idea of feeling him inside. “No, it’s alright. I know you remember them. I bet you spend your nights using yours, imagining it was me. Your little fingers – fuck – making their way into your dripping cunt, fucking yourself hard and yet…” he moaned, throwing his head back, “nothing can come close to me.”

“No – no. It doesn’t – mmph – feel just as good.”

“I know. But you need time, bunny. I can’t fuck you like this, in public, on a Ferris wheel. Not for our first time. Not when I’d leave you trembling and panting even more and you would have no strength to stand on your knees.”

She trembled in anticipation, pressing further down, making him groan.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he said. “Need to feel you more. Lift your hips more.”

“Li-like this?” She asked, whining when she had to pull away from him to give him space to grab his cock and start to rub it up and down her wet pussy. “Oh, this is, mmh, this is weird,” she mumbled, voice breaking a bit more every time that his tip pressed over her opening but never pushed in.

“But it feels good, right? We need to come fast; it will start moving soon again, remember? You don’t want the operator to find you like this, right?”

“No, no, I – that’s humiliating.”

“I know, baby. I would never make someone humiliate you. So I need you to stay like this, don’t try to slide down on me and let me rub my cock against your pretty pussy, okay?”

“Ye – yes,” she moaned.

Jeno moaned, rolling his head back, when he started to rub his head faster against her dripping cunt and clit, the cabin filling with wet sounds and moans they couldn’t hold back anymore, not even caring if there was somebody next to them.

“It’s good,” she whimpered, nails digging behind him, ripping the leather protection of the seats. “I’m – I’m close,” she breathed out, voice pitched and pussy clenching around nothing when another jolt shook the wheel and it started moving again.

“Me too, bunny. Can you come with me?”

“Yes, yes, please, faster,” she moaned, throwing her head back when he started doing that. Jeno had no idea how he was fighting back the urge to just penetrate her right there and then with no warning, slipping past her warm walls and filling her up, fucking her hard until she was nothing but a mess. And that thought made him grit his teeth and kiss her, cum spilling all over her cunt, triggering her orgasm too at the sensation of the warm liquid making a mess on her. She had never done that with her ex-boyfriend. And this orgasm was stronger than the rest, it left her shaking, whimpering, and panting in shame, in pleasure, in whatever drug Jeno was making her take every day that passed. It was becoming more and more of an addiction, yet, she didn’t seem to get enough.

“Fuck,” he moaned, laughing lowly, trying to catch his breath. “That was intense,” he said, smiling at her, “grab your clothes and put them on if you don’t want the whole park to see you like this, though,” he teased, handing her the discarded panties and shorts. “It would be a beautiful view,” he said, watching as she tried to stand on her wobbly legs and get back into her clothes, “but I’m pretty jealous of it.”

And another flush of heat rushed up her body, forcing her to lower her head.

When the attraction came to a stop they barely looked decent, but they couldn’t care.

“Are – are you still trying to win the bunny for me?” she asked, head lowered as the realization of what just happened hit her, and it was clear as the sky how experienced and used to this he was by how he was walking as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t just come all of her pussy and then made her push her clothes back on, walking around in that mess. And the worst of it all was that she liked it, she liked that he left a mark on her somehow, that something of him was still on her skin.

Jeno chuckled, almost as if he knew exactly what was running in her mind, finding it appealing how she would let go for a second just to go back to her usual serious and shy self in the blink of an eye. “We came here for that, right?”

He had promised her. And he kept his promises. Just like he kept his bets. But the more he looked at her, the more time he spent with her, the more he couldn’t see a clear line between the bet and reality. He knew he liked the thrill, he knew he liked the desperation, but he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like her.

Because when they reached the stuffed toys booth, it didn’t bother him that he had to pay to try to hit the target to win her that toy. He didn’t even find her supportive cheers annoying. He didn’t even mind that she kissed him as soon as – with a clear shot – he hit the target and made it fall after ten seconds of the game, winning her that so-awaited white bunny with big eyes and pink ears.

“You’re so good at this,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands and jumping on the spot, waiting for the operator to hand him the toy.

“I had the greatest support ever,” he smiled, handing her the plushie, smiling as she brought it close to her chest and hugged it tightly. A dream of a child coming reality after so many years.

“Do you like it?” He asked even if he knew the answer.

“I love it,” she replied. “Thank you for winning it for me and thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered.

“No worries, I had fun,” he replied, reaching for her hand. “Should we head home? My place? How’s that sound?”

“Amazing,” she replied, smiling from ear to ear, intertwining their hands, and walking to the car.

She was still smiling, hiding her face behind the plushie for happiness and shame as she felt his cum drip slowly out of her.

And Jeno was smiling too, thinking that if she finally had gotten his bunny, he had gotten his, too.

“He’s your bunny,” he whispered close to her, “but you are mine.”

“Your fridge is always empty,” she huffed, closing the grey door and huffing at her boyfriend that was sitting on a chair, scrolling through his phone. “How do you survive like this? How do you survive without me doing everything for you?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest and glaring at him.

Jeno chuckled, placing the phone down and standing up, reaching her, wrapping his arms around her. “I know, bunny. I’m sorry. I promise next time I’ll make you find the fridge full.”

She rolled her eyes, and pushed him away, “you know it’s a lie. You say it every time and then we would always starve if it was for you.”

“Oh, come here,” he pouted, grabbing her wrist and pulling her against his chest again. “That’s better,” he smiled, snuggling their noses together, making her laugh. “See, you can’t be mad at me.”

“No, I can’t.”

She really couldn’t. Especially now that they were dating for almost a month. Even if she knew so many flaws he had, she grew to love them all. She couldn’t even hate how it had to be a secret because she still had him and that was all that mattered. Actually, she enjoyed that it was a secret.

After a few weeks of sneaking around with Jeno going to her place to see his brother and having to sneak in her room or in the bathroom for a few kisses and heated make-out sessions, this was so much better. She spent most of the time at his place, telling her family she was at her friend’s house or at the library, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. And Jeno never made Jaemin come over when his sister was at home. So everything was working out smoothly.

This was great. It was the illusion of living together, but she hoped that soon it would’ve turned into something real. Their story was getting rather serious, in a way she never expected.

She brought some of her things to his place so she had no problems when she stayed over. They did many things together like grocery or buying things when something broke. Jeno always found time to have at least a Saturday or Sunday evening for them to go out to restaurants, and when he couldn’t, they usually went to other types of dates in the afternoon. They even bought a matching bracelet – that Jaemin didn’t notice because he paid her even less attention now.

“You’re not picking a movie, anymore,” Jeno said, chuckling, stealing the remote from her hands and making her whine.

“Oh, please,” she huffed, “for one bad movie.”

“One is enough,” he replied, leaving a peck on her forehead, making her squirm and snuggle close to him on the couch.

But even after he picked one, they didn’t pay the movie much attention because they were too busy kissing each other. She sat on his lap, fingers in his hair while his hands cupped her ass and pushed her closer to his body. And this happened almost every time, they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other, but they never did more than that. Jeno wanted to wait for a special occasion.

And that occasion arrived. One night, Jeno brought her to a restaurant out of town; a fancy place she had never been to before.

“You picked such a beautiful place,” she said while they waited for the second course, and she looked around still amazed. That wasn’t the kind of place she used to go, and they never even went together to a similar restaurant. Experimental cuisine, beautiful, elegant design, and classical music playing in the background.

“I’d do this and more for you,” he replied, caressing her hand on the table. “And, talking about doing things together. My parents have a house out of town and they don’t use it, thought we could go there together.”

“You mean just us or with your group of friends?”

“Just us. So we can spend some time alone, no need to worry about your brother, about anything.”

She hummed, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great, you can come up with a lie, right?”

“Of course, I can,” she replied. “But, can I ask why Jaemin doesn’t have to know about us?”

“You know him, he would ever let me close to you,” he replied, shrugging.

“But you’re his dearest friend. You are like a brother to him. I think he trusts you.”

“It’s not about trust,” he said. “It’s weird. And yeah... he knows too much about me to don’t want me near you.”

“Like? Are you trying to scare me away on our date?”

“No, no,” he stopped her right away. “But I’ve been a player most of my life, and as much as he can't stand you he wouldn’t want me to break your heart.”

“So... as long as he doesn’t know you can break it?”

“As long as he doesn’t know I can love you without him reminding me of my past,” he explained. “Hey, I love you. More than I ever loved anybody else, so can you please don’t let my past define me?”

She gulped, looking into his eyes and finding the truth. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just a little paranoid because... because nobody ever went this far with me.”

“I know,” he replied, smiling, “that’s why I wanted to take it slow, that’s why I don’t want to rush us.”

“Can we go back to your place?” She asked once they were in the car, the rest of the night proceeded smoothly as their conversation never drifted to her family again and they left the past right where it was. “I don’t want to go home.”

“I wasn’t planning on making you go home anyway,” he said, smirking. “I have a small surprise at home.”

“A surprise? Is that another bunny?”

“Better.”

But when they arrived home there was nothing, not physical, at least, and she looked at him with a furrow. “There’s nothing here.”

“Mhh, it’s something you had next to you all night,” he sang, walking close to her, wrapping his hands around her waist and moving her hair to the side, leaving a trail of kisses on her neck.

She chuckled, “is it you?”

He hummed, making her twirl in his hold. “Do you want me, bunny?”

“Don’t I have you already?”

“Yeah, but I think you still want more, don’t you?” He asked lifting her up in his arms, waiting for her to wrap her legs around his waist and start to walk upstairs. “I can’t take your disappointed face every time we don’t go all the way.”

“You make me sound desperate,” she chuckled, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“Because you are,” he replied, opening his bedroom door and laying her on the bed. And he was right because she didn’t waste time kissing him and moving her hands on his body to free him of his clothes.

“Gonna make you feel good,” he whispered once they were naked, lips closing around her nipple, sucking and twisting, making her push her body closer to his. “So good, bunny. Like nobody else ever made you feel.” His mouth moved down, tracing kisses all over her abdomen and then over her mound before lapping at her clit, making her whimper and squirm under his kisses and licks.

“No, shh, don’t move,” he whispered, pulling away from her slit. “Let me take care of you, bunny. I know he never did. But I’m not him, I’m not like anybody else.” His lips started moving on her again, sucking on her clit hard and then teasing her entrance, tasting her, feeling lightweight as his hands kept her legs spread open, fingers digging in the soft flesh of her thighs.

“Uh,” she cried, head thrown back, eyes squeezed closed and lips gasping for air. “It’s – it’s so good.”

He smirked against her skin, chin getting wetter with the slick that was streaming out of her as his tongue and lips moved faster on her, bringing her to the climax sooner than she wanted.

But even if she loved the feeling of his lips, she needed more.

“Jeno,” she mewled when he pulled away, licking his lips and cleaning his chin with the back of his hand. “Ne-need you,” she stuttered, looking into his eyes, filled with lust and need. “Please, need to feel you.”

Jeno kissed her, one hand at the side of her head keeping his body up and the other stroking his hard, thick cock.

“Gonna make you mine,” he groaned, aligning his length at her entrance and pushing into her, nails digging into his back as the never felt before stretch cut her breath.

“Fuck,” she cried, searching for his lips, chest panting as she tried to calm down, “you’re... you’re too big.”

“No, bunny,” he reassured, caressing her cheek, hips backing away before sinking in again, “you can take me. You can take everything I give to you.”

She nodded, legs falling limper as her body trembled in his hold.

“So good for me, bunny,” he praised, the veins of his neck popping out as he tried to hold in the moans.

“Want to – want to hear you,” she mumbled, cupping his face. “Please, want to know I’m – fuck – making you feel – aah – good.”

And Jeno let go, groans and low moans rolling out of his parted lips as he started thrusting into her faster, making her get even wetter as she felt him reach deeper inside of her.

“You make me feel so good, baby,” he hummed, throwing his head back when her walls clenched harder around him and he knew it was just a matter of minutes. He couldn’t hold it anymore. They were made for each other. Fitting so perfectly that he felt good like never before. Nobody could come close to this, to her.

“Fa-faster,” she barely breathed out, eyes half-lidded and lungs gasping for air.

“Faster?” He smirked, tilting his head, staring at her face, getting high in the way she was whimpering so nicely every time he pushed back and forth. “Can you take me, bunny?”

“Yes,” she screamed. “Need – need to feel you more.” She had no idea how it could’ve been possible, or exactly what more did she need from him. But she needed him. She needed him to get under her, and she needed to get under him. Tattooing each other under their skins.

And Jeno gave it to her. Going faster, pulling her legs closer to him, leaning down to cage her completely making her feel small and safe. He was always going to give her everything and more. Everything that would’ve been enough to never make her want to leave. Because she was his, and he was hers. And they belonged together.

“Je-Jeno,” she cried, feeling her stomach tighten up, silently warning him that she was close.

“I’m close, too,” he said through gritted teeth. “Your pussy’s so good, fuck. You are too good. Come for me, bunny. Come with me.”

And her body obeyed, squirming under him, hips bucking while her eyes rolled into the back of her head and another orgasm washed over.

“Yes, just like that,” Jeno groaned, watching her face contort and shooting his cum into her, hips slamming messily against her ass while his hand gripped her waist harder to keep her in place.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out of her and rolling at her side. “So, was it worth the wait?”

She smiled, turning to him. “You are always worth the wait.”

Jeno was... caring. Too apprehensive at times. Not that she minded all the attention but she sometimes wondered if he did too much. He insisted on picking her up when she came out of work. He always dropped her by when she went out with her friends alone. He drove her everywhere, saying that it was safer because ‘you may never know who you meet on the metro or the bus.’

But the weird thing was that one minute he was all over her, never taking his eyes off of her even for a split second, and then he was nowhere to be found, or he even got mad at her, reminding her to don’t be too touchy because nobody had to know.

Just like right now. He invited her to Haechan’s party but didn’t spare her a single glance all night but she had no intention of rotting on a sofa seat just to get back home after wasting an entire evening.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jeno snapped, glaring at Haechan pushing him off of her.

“Hey, man,” the brown-haired replied with a smug smirk on his face, “we were dancing. Had no idea you cared about her so much?” He grinned.

“Take that grin out of your face if you don’t want me to wipe it off with a punch,” he warned, glaring at him before grabbing her wrist and dragging her out of the living room, walking upstairs not even caring that she was hardly following his steps.

“Jeno wait!”

“Shut up!” He screamed, pushing her inside an empty room and locking it behind them with the key, stuffing it inside his pocket. “What the fuck were you thinking, uh?”

“W-what?” She asked, chest panting for running and because she didn’t expect him to react like that.

“Stop with that fucking act of the innocent girl,” he barked, cupping her cheek with a hand and pushing her close to the nearest wall, pressing her against it with his body. “I was right when I said you would’ve crawled to every single friend of your brother. You’re such a slut.”

“What? Don’t call me that! You know it’s not true,” she retorted, voice shaking with fear. She had never seen him like this and she couldn’t even get why he was so mad. She and Haechan were only dancing, and nobody could know that they were dating, so it wasn’t like she had a choice.

“Oh, it’s not true?” He cooed, squeezing her face tighter. “Then why were you grinding on him?"

“I - I wasn’t,” she whispered as tears started flowing on her face.

“Oh, nice,” he sighed, shaking his head, and letting go of her face, placing his hand beside her head against the wall, “now you’re going to cry. You were all over another man and you cry.”

“You know it’s only you. I’d never leave you,” she replied, lips quivering as she looked into his eyes and found them filled with darkness. “It was… it was the heat of the moment, he asked me to dance and you weren’t there and you said to keep our distances.”

“Yeah, but I think you need a reminder of who you belong to,” he said, flipping her over. "Need to put into your little dumb brain that I’m the only one.”

She nodded, shivering when his hands slipped under the dress, and she shouldn’t have felt so turned on because he was finally paying her attention, because he was showing he wanted her and nobody could come close to her. But she was. It was fucked up, and yet, her knees were buckling already under his touch.

“Need you to remember that even when I’m not by your side you’re mine and mine only. This body,” he said, running his hands on her thighs and waist and then squeezing her boobs, making her groan, “is mine. You are mine. Say it,” he ordered.

“I’m yours, always yours.”

“That’s better,” he replied, voice still stern, and hands slipping inside her laced panties. “Oh, wet already? You want me to be mean to you, don’t you?”

“No, I – I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said, "but don’t lie to me. You’re either dripping because of him, which will make me very mad. Or...” He leaned closer, “you are a little slut that gets off to these things.”

She whimpered, feeling her knees buckle. “Don't call me like that.”

“No? You want me to call you bunny, right? Want to be my little bunny?”

She nodded, biting her lower lip when his fingers started moving on her clit.

“To be my bunny you have to be good. And right now, you’re not. Prove to me you can be my good little bunny and not some cheap slut that lets all her brother’s friends pass her around, okay?”

“Yeah, I will prove it to you,” she said, trying to turn around but Jeno grabbed her wrists and blocked them together behind her back.

“You’re not moving from here,” he ordered. “And be thankful I brought you here and not in the bathroom. Come here, on the desk,” he ordered, guiding her to walk over to the white desk at the side of the room.

“Is – is this his bedroom?” She asked, looking around, seeing it was too decorated to be a guest room.

“Yeah, is that a problem? Don’t you want to leave him a little gift of something he will never have?”

“Je – Jeno you don’t need to be jealous, I-”

“Shut up,” he groaned, ripping her panties and spreading her legs more. “You think you know him more than I do? You think I don’t know what he looks like when he wants to fuck someone?”

She rolled her head back when he slipped one finger into her. “I wouldn’t have – fuck – I wouldn’t have let him.”

Jeno snickered bitterly. “I’m not sure about it,” he replied, kissing her roughly and pushing another finger inside. “Your ass was pressing so much against his cock. Think I didn’t see it? Think I’m stupid? He was hard, wasn’t he? And you loved it,” he mocked, adding a third finger making her moan louder. “Because you love attention, you live for attention. You seek it. You crawled to me because you needed attention so how can I trust you? Tell me? How can I trust you with other men?”

“I – I would never cheat on you,” she replied, trying to steady her breath and keep up with him instead of getting lost in the way his fingers made her feel. “If I could – fuck – dance with you in public, I – I would, I would only – fuck – do it with you.”

“So you’re going to do it again just because I’m not by your side? Just because I don’t carry you around with a leash like a fucking dog?” He replied, stilling his fingers inside of her and tilting his head to the side.

“That’s not what I meant,” she replied, trying to close her legs but he stopped her in her tracks lifting a finger and pushing her hips down against the desk. “Jeno, please,” she begged. “I won’t go to parties anymore, okay? I can stay at home, I never liked them anyway.”

“And you think that’s enough?” He asked, picking up the movements inside her, making her breath shake and her nails dig in his arms.

“Then what more can I do for you?” She asked, tears flowing down her cheeks, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Disappointing him was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Don’t fucking cry,” he growled, leaning closer to her but pulling his fingers out of her. “I hate it when you cry. I hate when you do dumb things first without thinking about the consequences and then do this, play the victim.”

“I just – I don’t want to upset you or hurt you. I don’t like fighting with you.”

“Then use your brain?” He said, tapping his fingers on her mouth and pushing them down her throat. “The only time you’re not supposed to think about a thing is when I’m fucking you, got it?”

She nodded, trying to kiss him back when he pulled his fingers out. “Can you forgive me? I’m sorry.”

“Maybe, I’ll forgive you if you don’t disappoint me another time,” he said, letting go of her face. “Are you going to be a good girl?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be your good girl,” she replied, moving toward the edge of the desk to feel him more.

“Then bend over,” he ordered, waiting for her to follow his orders. “See, you can be good when you want to.”

She was about to reply but then pursed her lips together, not wanting to get him mad even more. If she liked it when he got rougher, she still didn’t want to fight or make him truly upset.

“This ass,” he said, hand slapping her ass cheek hard, making her jolt, “is mine. Got it?”

“Ye-yes.”

“This pussy,” another slap, but this time on her pussy, “is mine.”

“Yours.”

“And you,” another smack on her other ass cheek, “are mine.”

“Yours. I’m all yours,” she whimpered, feeling her skin burn.

“Now be a good girl,” he said, rubbing the skin of her ass, “and part your legs more.”

“I wanted to fuck your mouth but I need to feel you, need to fuck you hard and make you walk out of here with – fuck,” he groaned, pushing inside of her wet cunt, “make you walk out of here with shaky legs and my cum dripping out of you.”

Her nails scraped against the hard wood under her, head rolling back at the stretch of his cock.

“Yeah, you like that? That was what you wanted, shit,” he moaned, “Wanted me to pay you attention so you got on my nerves to get this. You want me to be rough with you, don’t you?” He asked. “Answer me,” he groaned, pulling her flush against his chest and leaving a light tap against her cheek.

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“But if you – fuck – want me to be rough with you, you just have to fucking ask. But noo,” he cooed, a deep laugh rolling out of his chest. “It’s better to go around and act like a slut, isn’t it?”

“N-no,” she breathed out.

He snorted. “And you know, if I only didn’t care so much about you I’d let him fuck you. I’d love to see the – fuck – the disappointed look on your face," he said, wrapping a hand around her neck and squeezing it before kissing her hard. “Because he can’t fuck you like I do.”

“I – I know," she moaned, feeling her knees shake.

“Nobody can fuck you like I do,” he whispered against her ear. “Say it,” he ordered, “say that nobody, nobody, will ever make you feel as good as I do.”

She threw her head back, ass arching against him, pleasure making her feel dizzy as she struggled to make the words come out of her mouth. “No - nobody will ever make me – mmh – nobody will make me feel as good as you.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You feel good,” she moaned, head falling forward, not really sure she could last longer. “No,” she whined when he pulled out.

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Want you to look into my eyes while I break you.”

She stumbled on her heels, hardly turning around and sitting back on the desk and in a second Jeno was inside her again, thrusting into her mercilessly, knocking the breath out of her lungs.

“You make me so fucking mad,” he groaned, kissing her roughly. “I wanted to get home and – shit – fuck you gently all night and here we are,” he said, cupping her face, “we have a party to get back to and we look like a mess all because you never know when to stop.”

“Too much," she mumbled, looking into his eyes, hips shaking.

“No, you can take it, you wanted this and you will take this. I know you’re close, you’re – fuck – squeezing me.”

“Play with your clit,” he ordered. “And come for me while you look into my eyes.”

“Y-yes,” she replied, sliding her hand between their bodies and starting to move her fingers on her clit, wanting to roll her head back but forcing herself to keep it up and stare at him, feeling the orgasm come.

“Shit, yes,” Jeno moaned. “Just like that. Good girl, my good bunny,” he praised, kissing her. "Yeah, that was what you wanted. And keep bein’ my good bunny and come,” he ordered, giving one last thrust that pushed her over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cried, locking her legs around his waist and digging the nails of the hand around his arm into his skin.

“God,” he groaned. “Mine. All mine.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, meeting his lips in a soft kiss again, “I’m all yours.”

Jeno leaned his forehead against hers as they both caught their breaths and came down from the high. “I’m all you ever wanted," he whispered. “All your life you wanted me. And now you have me, bunny. You have me right here, so don’t you dare leave me.”

She wasn’t supposed to be there, eavesdropping a conversation about her that she wasn’t supposed to hear. But when she come back from work, she opened the front door and heard Jeno and his friends talk in the kitchen, surely Jaemin wasn’t there, or there was no way they would have that conversation. But she didn’t do it on purpose and she had no idea if it was better like this or living in a lie.

‘You didn’t win the bet, technically. It was two months and you started dating her after three.’ Haechan complained.

‘Yeah, but I got to her after one week, I think I win.’ Jeno replied and even if she couldn’t see his face, she knew there was a smug smirk on his face.

‘I mean, the bet involved both fucking with her and dating her so I think he’s right.’ Jisung chimed.

‘And as I told you she fell on my feet. She was literally begging for my attention so my point was proved.’ Jeno

She felt her eyes flood with tears and ran away with the intention to confront him at home. Receiving more humiliation in front of his friends was the last thing she wanted.

‘God, I hate you, man, Fine. Here’s the money.’

Jeno scoffed. ‘I don’t want the money,’ he replied. ‘I think I found a better prize.’

“Honey,” Jeno said, opening the door of his place. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home, why’s your car in the driveway?”

“Don’t call me honey,” she said, standing in front of him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring at him.

“Oh, what happened? We didn’t have a date, right?” He asked, trying to guess why she was mad. “And surely today is not your birthday.”

She took a step forward and slapped him, making him flinch and stare at her with a surprised expression.

“You are an asshole!” She screamed. “You played me for a fucking bet. You – you lied to me all these months! Five months of lies and games you played for some money. Is this all I am to you? A joke? A bar talk with your stupid friends? How much do they know about me? Did you have fun making fun of my innocence? Or was it funnier to laugh about how much I trusted you and let you do things I would’ve never done before?”

“Hey, hey,” he said, trying to reach for her but she pulled away, glaring at him, making him understand that if he dared to touch her she was going to slap him again. “You are not a joke for me. And they don’t know a single thing about you. I don’t want anybody else to know so much about you, to get so deep under your skin. Everything that we did, everything you told me, had been just between me and you.”

“I heard you,” she retorted. “I’m not dumb, I know what I heard. I heard how hard you were trying to convince them that you were right and you won! All your daddy’s money and you still need to win more by betting on me!”

“I didn’t want the money,” he explained, walking closer to her again. “Can you let me explain?”

“No, you’ve got nothing to explain. There’s nothing you can say that will,” she stopped, lowering her head and sniffling lowly, running the palm of her hand under her nose. “Nothing you can say will make you come out of this innocent,” she whispered, feeling new tears wet her face. This wasn’t supposed to end like this. She wanted him too much for this to end up so badly.

“Does it matter why I got closer to you? Do you really want a stupid bet to come between us?” He asked, trying to meet her eyes but her head was still reclined, facing the floor of his living room and her hair hid her face.

“It’s not a stupid bet. It’s me. It’s us,” she replied with her voice full of anger. “And I won’t let you get away with this. I will tell everything to Jaemin. I will tell him how his best friend, well friends, played his sister. I will tell him how you used me all this time and you will see,” she said, finding the courage to look up at him, but when she met his eyes she couldn’t find fear. Jeno was unfazed, staring at her with a faint grin on his face.

“Honey, do you hear yourself?” Jeno chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Do you really think he would believe you? His annoying, pathetic little sister who drooled over me for ages. And careful, that is what he thinks about you.”

Her mouth hung open, not expecting him to say something like that. “I didn’t drool over you,” she retorted, trying to push in the back of her mind the fact that deep down not even Jaemin cared about her. That truly she was way lonelier than she thought.

“Shh, don’t cry,” he said, walking to her, caressing her cheek now that she let down her guard, shoulders dropping and heart crumbling into pieces. “You know you do. You wanted me so badly for all this time so… what’s different now?”

“You – you, this is all a game for you. You bet on me. You think nobody wants me.”

“Did I ever say that? No. But let’s be real, you’re 21 and nobody ever looked at you the way I did. All the things I did, I did them for you,” he replied, thumb brushing on her burning wet cheek. “I made you feel good, so why would you be mad at me? I never said I loved you when we started. I never told you that when I didn’t truly believe it.”

“But you knew I… you knew! You knew I would’ve done anything for you,” she screamed, shaking harder in his hold, feeling both comfort and coldness in it. She couldn’t wrap her head around it, how he was the main reason for her pain and yet the main reason for her comfort.

“And? I knew how dedicated you are, so what’s the problem?”

“I… I… you know it’s not fair,” she whispered, looking down again, not bearing to his face. His handsome, gentle face that fooled her for so long. “You know that’s one of the worst things you could ever do.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. And I’ll tell my brother and you will see. You won’t make me change my mind.”

Jeno grabbed her waist, pulling her close to him. “You won’t tell him anything. Do you really want to humiliate yourself? What are you going to do? Tell him that you crawled to me on your knees because you needed someone to teach you about sex? You remember right why it all started? Imagine how he would feel knowing that you go around asking all his friends to fuck you.”

Her eyes drifted on his face. “I don’t go around doing that,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

“Maybe…” he replied, wanting to bring up the way she was grinding on Haechan even if they were together, but deciding to don’t more fuel to the fire. “But if I would’ve said no, you would’ve. Isn’t this better for everybody? Your brother doesn’t know, and we still have each other.”

“I don’t want to have you,” she lied, meeting his eyes, scaring herself because how could he be so impassive? How could there not be a trace of emotions? Did he care or not?

“No? Now that you finally got me, you don’t want me anymore?”

“No – not like this,” she replied, trying to stop the sobs and don’t look even more like a mess. The mess he made. “You – you are a completely different person, you – you are not who I thought you were.”

“But I am me. You loved me all these months, and trust me, that was the real me. Why don’t you love me anymore? Why would you push me away, bunny?”

“Do-don’t call me bunny,” she said, glaring at him.

“But you love it so much, don’t you? Do you still have the bunny I won for you? Remember it? I can give you so much more than that.”

“I – I need you to love me, I don’t need this. I don’t need toys. I don’t need lies. You hurt me.”

“And I’m sorry, alright? I never lied to you when it came to us. I would’ve broke us off if I truly didn’t like you.”

“Yeah but I, I’m not sure I want you anymore,” she said, slipping out of his hold and grabbing her purse and jacket from the couch. “We – we need a break.”

And Jeno watched her go, opening the door of his house and closing it behind. He didn’t cry, he didn’t run after her, he didn’t try to stop her.

He knew she was going to come back to her.

Crawling, just like she did the first time.

She was lost. Everybody around her noticed that. Weird, she thought, that for once they were paying attention to her. But she couldn’t tell the truth, she shrugged their oppressions off, pretending that it was just life, work and lack of sleep.

And that wasn’t a total lie. She had spent sleepless nights up, Jeno’s ghost haunting her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge every night. Because if during the day she could pretend and try to distract herself, at night she couldn’t.

Jeno was everywhere. He was like her shadow, walking behind her, a cold wind blowing around her, covering her with shivers. He was imprinted on her body, his fingerprints burning up on her skin, leaving scars that weren’t physical, scars she couldn’t mend or sew. Scars he left open, bleeding, and poured with salt. Scars only he could heal. And only he could make.

And she didn’t know what to do. If it was better to go back to him, let him heal her pain and hope he wasn’t going to scar her again or leave immediately. Admit to herself that certain things just weren’t meant to happen and let him go, slowly, bleeding some more, but let him go.

And it took her two weeks to make up her mind and take the most painful decision of her life.

So when she found herself at his front door she felt every second pass, slowly, prolonging that torture more.

“Coming.” She could hear his muffled voice from the other side of the door and wanted to leave, not sure that after seeing his face she would’ve carried through. But she was there, and when she took the first step back, it was already too late. “Oh, you didn’t warn you were going to pass by,” he said, surprised of seeing her there.

She hummed, “No, it was a last-minute decision. Can I come in? Or are you already busy with somebody else?”

Jeno sighed but moved to the side. “I told you, I love you. I would never move on so easily.”

She shrugged, before turning around again. “Actually it won’t take long, so you can go back to what you were doing,” she said, making Jeno furrow.

She came back, but he already suspected she didn’t come back how he wanted.

“I thought about it a lot,” she started saying, fingers playing with a loose thread of her sweater but she was forcing herself to look at him. “I thought about us a lot and I realized I can’t do this. I can’t have you, not like this, not after everything.”

Jeno blinked repeatedly, shaking his head. “You want to break up with me?” He asked to make sure that was the point she was making.

“Yes,” she replied. “It pains me a lot but… I need to put me first. I am worthy unlike all of you think.”

Jeno hummed, rubbing his chin and wetting his lip. “You are, you sure are. But… you know nobody will make you feel as good as I made you feel, right?”

She didn’t answer. She feared nobody was going to make her feel what he made her feel, but that couldn’t be possible, right? There were so many people in the world, he couldn’t be the only one for her.

“Nobody will ever know you as deeply as I know you.”

No answer again, just broken eyes looking into each other.

“Do you really want to erase all of these years?”

She furrowed at his words, chuckling bitterly, “You never paid attention to me.”

“Are you sure? Just because I was looking at you from the sidelines, silently waiting for the moment to have you? We love in such a different way you think I don’t love you. How could you be so full of yourself thinking that your way of loving is the only right one?”

“I don’t think my way of loving is the only right one I… you… you never loved me,” she whispered, feeling her heart clench because she had to repeat it to herself every night and doing it again, reminding herself that he never loved her but only played her like a puppet on a string, brought her to her knees, and made her feel worthless. It proved once again that everybody was right, that she was nothing special, nothing more but a sideshow for everybody to buy a ticket and laugh at her goofiness and futility.

“Here you go, doing this again. Do I have to get on my knees to tell you I love you?” He asked, taking a step closer to her.

“No, there’s no –”

“No, I’ll do it,” he stopped her. “Here I am, on my knees for you.”

She clenched her fists and wanted to slap him again for missing the point so many times. “You bet on me!” She replied, screaming at his face.

“That’s so irrelevant,” he replied, keeping up with her angry gaze, not even flinching.

“No, it’s not. And you’re lucky I didn’t say a thing to Jaemin –”

“Shut up,” he stopped her, standing up once again, voice harsh before it turned sweet and caring again, “I thought we were clear about not telling anything to him, right?”

“No,” she fought back. “I won’t keep my mouth shut.”

Jeno rolled his eyes and stopped her, a hand around her cheek and another around her waist. “Now you stop and listen to me,” he groaned, “alright, darling?” She hummed, tears running down her face again, and hated the way the only thing her mind could think was how much she had missed the feeling of being in his arms.

“I’d never hurt you on purpose, I love you and it doesn’t matter if it took a bet to get it. I do. And I want you to put it in your mind. Please, let me show you how much I love you,” he whispered, kissing her neck, making her shiver and push him back. She couldn’t fall, not again, not now that his games were all revealed. “Shh, shh, don’t fight it. Don’t fight me,” he rasped. “Remember how you were always all over me? What changed now?”

“You are not who I fell in love with,” she managed to say, shivering and squirming under him, feeling that the power he had over her was once again making her walls fall down.

“Just let me prove it to you, let me prove you it’s always me, the only one you love so much. Because you love me, right?” He cooed, caressing her cheek, and wiping away the black rivers of mascara on her face. “I know you still love me. I know your heart cannot beat with me out of your life.”

She didn’t answer but only hummed, shivering when his hand reached the small of her back and pulled her closer. Tired, she felt tired. And once again, he was the only one keeping her up on her feet. He was the only one that didn’t let her fall. But she wondered if it was because he truly cared, or if he needed to control her. If this sense of comfort was also fake like everything else. But her mind couldn’t tell it, not now at least, and she only hoped that when she did, it wouldn’t have been too late.

“You don’t want me to leave you. You cannot live without me. Remember?” He whispered, caressing her face gently, reaching her hair, caressing her scalp, fingers moving in circles just like she liked, in the same way that would always make her fall asleep with her head on his lap, or against his shoulder. “You told me, whispered it to me while laying on my chest, fantasizing about our future together.”

“That – that was before…” she sniffled, trying to fight it off, trying to grasp onto what was left of sanity, screaming to the small part of her that wasn’t completely devoted to him to please wake her up and make her get out of there. But there was nothing left of her that wasn’t madly, deeply, and completely in love with him, lost for him, devoted, obsessed with the feelings he brought along. Nothing of her didn’t scream Jeno anymore. She was his. Every inch of her skin. Every cell of her blood. Every thought in her mind, about him.

And he knew it. Because he truly had her imprinted in the back of his mind. He had studied her for so long, silently, without making her notice. He knew exactly what she needed and how to give it to her. He knew how neglected she was and how she needed to be valued, loved, praised, and cherished. And he was going to do it. If she let him, he was going to give her everything and more.

“But I’m still here,” he smiled, and then he kissed her as his hands moved to gently cup her cheeks and kiss her lips. “See, there still are my lips on yours,” and then he moved down, “and on your neck… right here,” he sucked. “Right here, bunny, where it makes you shiver so much under me.” And her body trembled in his hold as if it was a command, something natural starting from her brain as soon as his lips moved, like a magic spell.

“Yeah, you know nobody else will know how much you love being kissed there,” he hummed, snuggling his nose against her skin. “Or touched here,” he said while his hand moved under her sweater and brushed against the skin of her hips.

“Jeno, we – you need to stop,” she shook her head, trying to stop him once again. To stop herself from falling into the wolf trap.

“Do I? Does your body want to?”

“I don’t care what my body wants. I know this is wrong.”

“How is this wrong?” He asked, pulling his hand out of her sweater, but still keeping the other on her cheek, caressing softly. “It’s us, bunny. It will always be us.”

She swallowed hard, trying to understand if he was lying or if he was being honest, but she couldn’t get it. She had never been good at reading him and he had played her so many times she had no idea if she could trust him. But what was he gaining from this? Why was he fighting so hard to keep her when he could’ve had anybody else? Why was he still trying to keep her with him if the bet was done? Sure, that was wrong, the worst thing he could’ve ever done but it was in the past. He grew to love her. He loved her. Lee Jeno loved her. And he was doing everything to prove it to her.

“Do you want it to be only us, bunny? I need to hear you say you want me to show you how much I love you.”

“Ye – yes,” she replied. “Want it to be only us.”

And she fell. She had thrown herself out from the tenth floor of a building with no parachute and didn’t even realize it yet, and by the time she would’ve opened her eyes and realized what she had done, it would’ve been too late, too close to the ground, too close to crushing down. Her fear of the Ferris wheel would’ve been her reality.

They were once again in an amusement park, going round and round, running after fantasies, marking each other, biting off pieces, bleeding. While the Ferris Wheel kept falling but from higher, much higher than where they were before, and death, even if by his side, wouldn’t have been sweeter and tragically romantic. And while meeting her tragic faith, the only thing she could hope for was to never open her eyes, to never realize the rose-colored glasses carnival Jeno locked her into, but to pretend, and pretend… and pretend until there was nothing left to do, until her sad destiny would’ve welcomed her and lulled her with the ideal of a love story that was only in her mind.

“I love you so much,” he kept whispering next to her ear while he had her body pressed under his, hands intertwined together over her head, chest pressed against her back, hips thrusting against hers, lips kissing the blades of her shoulders, trying to go deeper under her skin because if only he could’ve, he would’ve. “I love you and I want you to never forget it.”

And all she could do was hum and moan under his expert hands that played her like a violin. “I – I missed you,” she cried out, letting go of a confession she couldn’t keep in anymore as another orgasm rushed over her body.

“I know,” he whispered, holding her closer. “Can’t get enough of me, can’t – fuck – be without me.”

“I – it’s getting too much,” she whimpered, pressing her head against the pillows of his bed. “You feel too good,” she wept, holding his hands tighter, feeling her heart burn up when he started to whisper again how much he loved her, how much he needed her.

“We fit so well, bunny,” he whispered, pulling out and turning her over, slipping into her again, holding her limp, tired body in his arms as he picked up his rhythm again. “We are made for each other,” he said, caressing her wet cheek. “So don’t ever let anything – fuck – come between us. Not the bet,” he groaned, feeling another orgasm approach them, “not your brother. Not another man. Nothing and nobody, fuck.”

She hummed, lazily blinking, eyes barely adjusting to see his face, and smiled. She smiled because that felt like heaven. She smiled because Jeno looked like an angel. She smiled because after being a loser for her entire life, there was a small patch of paradise reserved even for her. “Just us,” she whispered.

And by the time they came together she had no more strength to keep her eyes open, even less to talk, but there was nothing more to say. She had nothing more to say, not for now, at least. Her wounds were healed.

So she let go in his arms, drunk in his scent and warmth, heart beating with the hope of a better future. A hope that was fueled by a reality that was all distorted. And in her dreams, she couldn’t hear him, but he would’ve made sure to remind her of that promise every day.

Jeno turned around, eyes studying her relaxed face, fingers grazing her cheeks, moving her hair out of her beautiful face, a grin creeping on his face as he leaned down to kiss her parted lips.

“It will always be us, bunny,” he promised. “Always.”

I hope you liked it, please leave feedback and let me know with comments, reblogs or asks ♡ For more support consider donating.

Part 2: shattered glasses

#feedback #reblogs

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neowinestainedress · 15 days

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yeah i don't know how to make short fics lol but i'm happy you stayed til the end and liked it! thank you so much ♡

HITS DIFFERENT | L.DH

TITLE: hits different

PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader | mc’s best friend johnny, haechan’s roommate mark (+ kinda emotional support boy when mc acts like a loser)

GENRE: non-idol au, strangers to friends with benefits to lovers, getting together, smut, angst, fluff | requested | bonus part

SUMMARY: nobody ever got under your skin, not until Haechan came in your life and changed everything.

WARNINGS: smut, protected and unprotected sex (condom first and then mc is on the pill), multiple sex scenes, oral sex, fingering, car sex, riding, fingers sucking, face sitting, rimming, anal, mirror sex, a bit of exhibitionism (as a fantasy), praise, teasing (as in degradation but it’s not hard stuff), handjob, morning sex, kitchen sex, toys (vibrator), overstimulation, (no bdsm but) switchy dynamics, sa doesn’t happen but there are a few references to pushy behaviours, mentions of a past car accident and death of a barely mentioned character | I hope I didn’t forget anything but if I did, let me know! | kinda implied that both haechan and the reader are bi because in this house we only support mxf bi4bi couples (joking… unless) do whatever you want with this information.

WC: 44.804k

TAGLIST: @adorejaehyn@matchahyuck@sundhaelatte@jjhmk@ourbeautifulaffair@what-the-jams@oleoleniall @kundann @bbagu@ismileeprnc-responder@produmads@zkdlllin@yesohhsehun@aliceinwhateverland@strangevante @cas104 @hyuckdreams

A/N: finally writing hyuck as a loser male wife (kinda) my life is complete!!! It’s been months and I’m back with a request, I know it took long to write it but I hope whoever requested will like this. I’m still not sure about the present tense but idk I’m trying out new things. I would really appreciate if you could support my work in any way, feedback makes me happy and motivates me to keep writing. If you can, reblog so it can reach more people or come and chat in the ask box to let me know your opinion! Love you, enjoy!

It was Johnny’s fault. It’s always his fault when things don’t go as planned.

It’s his fault if right now you are jumping around Haechan’s bedroom trying to look for your clothes while the clock is running fast, and you are running late.

Continuar lendo

#feedback #reblogs

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neowinestainedress · 2 months

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Why's haechan so likeable in hits different & cause it's you 😭 The greenest green light, neo pearl champagne green, green forest anything green literally🟩🟢🍏🥗🥬🍃🌱🍀🌲💚 is it possible to find my own like IS IT POSSIBLE 😫

he's the standard fr 😔 i think my mind subconsciously made me write the perfect man and then reality reminded me (and all of us) that men like this don't exist 😭

also, from now on, instead of saying "green flag" i will say "neo pearl champagne flag" aksolas

#anon answered #fic: hits different #fic: cause it's you

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neowinestainedress · 2 months

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i edited this and also posted it on ao3!!! if you want to re-read it again there shouldn't be mistakes anymore (if you want to re-read the series please wait as i post it on ao3 cause i'm editing all the parts again as i post)

marigold

all’s well that ends well to end up with you :

↳ part 1 | part 2

title: marigold

pairings: jeong jaehyun x oc , oc x oc (it’s barely there) | side members: jaehyun’s best friend!johnny suh ; barista!taeyong

summary: their relationship feels like an eternal battle. the more they try to push each other away, the more they are drawn back together. it’s like being on a carousel that never stops and keeps going up and down. they can’t make it stop. but the worst is that they don’t want to make it stop.

genre: college au, roomate au, enemies* to ewb to fwb to lovers au, getting together au, smut, fluff (if you squint), light angst

warnings: smut, protected and unprotected sex (she’s on the pill), hate sex, minor dom/sub dynamics, dom!jaehyun / sub!oc (but tbh there’s a lot of power-play so they keep switching but yeah, overall the dom is him), oral sex (f & m receiving), light chocking, shower sex, dirty talk, use of sir, light angst, bickering and fights, cheating (they have been cheated on, they don’t cheat on each other), emotionally repressed character(s)

word count: 17.640k

taglist: @nz06s @thelmathinks @leighsoo | if you want to be added comment under the masterpost of the series

a/n: here’s the first part of the poly series, i’m so excited for this. please, please, let me know what you think about it and maybe even how do you think the others will become part of this? any type of feedback is appreciated so don’t be shy, i promise i’m nice and don’t bite. english is not my first language so there might be some mistakes even if i proofread it.

* enemies is an exaggeration but i didn’t know how else to tag it

“Is he always like this?” Amita whispered, rolling her eyes while closing Jade’s bedroom door behind her.

Jade chuckled with a shrug before adjusting the pillows on the bed to make room for them to sit and come up with something for the lettering project they had to turn in before December. “I stopped trying to understand him, really,” she huffed, slumping on the mattress, and pulling out the laptop from the bedside table. “And I suspect he hates me at this point.”

Her friend raised a brow. “But did something happen between you two?”

“No, it’s one-sided hate. I tried to start a conversation with him so many times, you have no idea. It’s like talking to a wall.”

The brown-skinned girl furrowed, grabbing her PC too and opening InDesign. “He doesn’t seem like a dickhead, though. Maybe he’s just shy?”

Keep reading

#sr #icymi

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neowinestainedress · 2 months

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i'm sorry 😭

close as strangers | jeong jaehyun

title: close as strangers

pairing: jeong jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: childhood friends to strangers to friends, college!au, fluff, angst | requested

warnings: angst

summary: something breaks between you and Jaehyun when he starts dating the one who seems to be the love of his life. And you’re not sure you can cope with him slowly pushing you out of his life.

words: 7.446k

a/n: can't believe I finally wrote another one of the requests I got, the others will come out, I promise. I'm not sure it's exactly what the requester wanted (probably it's not sad enough, idk??) but I hope you'll like it anyway. Please let me know what you think with comments, reblogs or even asks!

“I’m not being annoying, I’m telling the truth,” you huff when Jaehyun pushes you away with a playful tug and calls you annoying for the nthtime.

“I’m not a loser, I have never been,” he replies, crossing his arms on his chest, and staring straight in front of him, trying to ignore you.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes, jumping on top of him and pulling his cheeks, moving his face side to side.

“Ouch, ouch,” he hisses, trying to pull away from your hold, but you only laugh and think that he looks so cute with his red cheeks, soft brown hair falling delicately on his forehead and beautiful eyes. “Stop it, fine, fine, I’m a loser.”

You cheer, happy about your victory but don’t move away from him. To strangers’ eyes it should be weird but for you two it’s only normal. You can’t even remember a moment when Jaehyun wasn’t by your side after you became best friends in kindergarten.

“I’m always right,” you quip, kissing his still red cheeks.

“She looked intimidating, I’m not like this anymore,” he defends himself again, and you find it entertaining. “You can’t call me a loser because my first crush was a failure. It’s been years.”

You shake your head, “I give it to you that she was too beautiful to even look at you,” you joke and at that he playfully hits your arm, only making you chuckle. “You were a loser in a cute kind of way. And you still act the same.”

Jaehyun huffs, shaking his head and gesturing for you to get off him. “See, you are annoying.”

You smile, silently following him into the kitchen, watching as he grabs a drink from the fridge and hands one to you. “So annoying I’m not even sure I can confess something to you.”

A furrow forms on your face, studying him with your tilted head. “Confess?”

“Yeah,” he says and when he meets your eyes his face blushes even more, “God, no, don’t think what you’re thinking, I don’t love you.”

“Oh, thank god,” you reply, but your heart doesn’t feel as light as your voice coming out of your lips. You hate it, or maybe you hate the way he says it, as if it would be so weird for him to love you. But you’re quick at shaking those thoughts out of your brain, at least for now. “So what is it?”

Jaehyun sighs, scratching his neck before nodding at the drink in your head, “You don’t want it?”

You gulp, you’d need it, but you’re not sure you’ll love whatever news he will drop and you’d like to avoid spitting it on his face. “No, sorry.”

He shrugs, grabbing it from your hand, and the light touch sends shivers down your skin.

“So, there’s this girl…”

There’s this girl…

Unfortunately, there’s this girl. Unfortunately, Jaehyun is head over heels for her.

He’s a loser, or maybe even more. So much that he gets annoying and you can’t stand him.

There should be nothing wrong with it, you should live this like any other of his crush, or relationships, but something inside of you is not letting it happen. You blame it on the fact he always talks about her, bringing her into every conversation even when she’s got nothing to do with it. You can’t see that you’re blinded by a feeling you never even imagined feeling.

Jaehyun is your best friend, nothing less, nothing more.

But apparently, your heart stopped seeing him this way a long time ago.

“I hate this class with a burning passion,” Jaehyun huffs, throwing away the pen he’s writing with as if he could throw away the headache that’s torturing him while he’s uselessly trying to memorize everything he needs for the exam.

You chuckle, lifting your eyes for a split second to look at him, grey hoodie over his hair and pissed-off expression staring at you as if you’re an alien for understanding everything so easily.

“I envy you so much, you’re so smart,” he complains again, drifting his gaze because the more he looks at you the madder he gets.

Your eyes roll back. “I’m not smart, lately all your blood is flowing in your pants, that’s why you can’t understand anything about uni lessons anymore.”

He glares at you. “Shut up, we didn’t even fuck.”

“Us?”

“Me and her,” he almost screams, staring at you with wide eyes. “Don’t make weird assumptions about us.”

You bite your lip, but not enough that you can stop yourself from asking a question you shouldn’t ask. “You wouldn’t?”

Jaehyun blinks repeatedly, staring at you with a furrow on his face. “Would, what?”

“Fuck with me.”

He scoffs, shaking his head, “Are you serious? Of course, I wouldn’t, we’re best friends.”

“Well, there are a lot of best friends that do it.” You know you’re shocking him with every word, you can see it in his wide-open eyes and mouth, but you can’t stop. It shouldn’t, but it is hurting your pride.

“Not us,” he replies as if it is obvious, it should be obvious, at least, and he doesn’t understand what had taken over you today. “Why would we?”

“I’m not saying we have to,” you whisper, tapping your shoes against the floor. “But you know, it can happen.”

Jaehyun laughs, “Sex never happens. It’s not some kind of fatality.”

“When you’re drunk?”

“Oh, yeah, depending on how drunk you are that falls into assault actually.”

You roll your eyes, “You know what I meant, just enough that you… you know what is happening but not enough to think about the consequences.”

“Yeah, that’s why we make sure to never cross that line when we drink, because we won’t let it happen.”

You hold back a bitter laugh, “You’re talking as if I’m the ugliest person you have ever seen.”

“I didn’t say that, you’re beautiful, you know I think that. I even think you can be hot when you want to,” he laughs, surely referring to your personal struggles of stepping out of certain comfort zones but you don’t find it funny. “Come on, you know I’m saying I won’t because we’re best friends, I’ve known you since you eat stick glue and the teachers wouldn’t let you close to them.”

You ignore his recall of that fun memory and go straight to the point, brain completely fogged by your hurt pride, rationality gone. “What if we weren’t?”

“But we are.”

“What if we weren’t?”

Jaehyun chuckles, at this point his laugh is awkward, and he hates he can’t seem to find any sign of a joke in your eyes. “Yes…” he answers hesitantly, and you don’t know if he means it or if it’s because he wants to make you happy and fool.

But you don’t press him anymore, after all, it doesn’t matter, you are best friends, and you can’t turn back time and change the events that lead you there right now, so you bring your attention back to the books.

“I can help you with what you don’t understand, I’m here for that,” you say.

“Are you mad? I genuinely think you’re beautiful, you know it. I just don’t want to lose you with sex.”

“I know, I agree, it got nothing to do with you, actually. Sorry, a bit of paranoia for a dick absence of six months,” you lie, blaming it on your lack of activity in bed would’ve dusted off that awkward moment you were going to reply in your brain for months probably. And Jaehyun believes it, an expression full of pity forming on his face and the same usual ‘your value doesn’t come from men wanting you,’ and you know, it might not come from men but from him? It does.

But it’s fine like this, at least with that lie you’re sure you didn’t scare him off, and when you propose to stay for dinner he doesn’t run away but helps you with that. It’s just you and him, like it had always been, only with a fire inside of you that you never wanted to light up, and you know it will burn you.

“You need to fix this room,” Jaehyun jokes, his breath puffing against your hair while you’re lying in your bed.

“Leave me alone, I’ve been sad lately,” you pout, rolling your body and hiding your face in the crook of his neck, his scent filling your senses.

“I can help you if you want,” he replies, caressing your back in circles.

“With my sadness?” You lift your neck to stare at him, finding him looking at you.

“With your room,” he shrugs.

You let out a whine, groaning while you pull away from his hold against your will. You like being there, embraced in his warmth. Jaehyun feels familiar, he always had, even before he actually was. And now you need to lull yourself into that feeling more than ever. But as you look around and see the state of your bedroom you realize he’s not wrong.

“You know how you could help?” You say, jumping around and facing him.

Jaehyun smiles, sitting up straight and leaning in. He’s so close to you that you can only see his eyes while all the rest fades away. “With a kiss?”

Your heart starts throbbing and you’re sure the temperature of your skin is rising, but you try to hide the dumb smile that’s forming on your face. You don’t answer, only melt on the spot when his lips meet your skin, pressing against your cheek with a loud sound.

“Fixed,” he giggles, caressing your cheek, ear and hair in a move he had always done since you were kids, the only difference was that now his hand cupped half of your face with ease. “Better?”

You hum, smiling but feeling another sting in your chest. You hopeful, hopeful girl wishing he would’ve kissed your lips instead.

“I wanted to propose to go buy groceries, by the way,” you chuckle, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, your weird second sadness fixing.”

“Hey!” You yell, faking an offended grin on your face and he only pulls out his tongue before jumping in front of the closet and opening the doors. You don’t have time to tell him to stop that he’s crushed by a mass of clothes, and you’d like to be mad about it but when he sits on the floor with clothes all over him and glares at you, you can only laugh.

“It’s funny? I could’ve been killed and you’re laughing,” he jokes, scrolling the clothes off him and reaching you, starting to tickle you. “God, I’m a loser but you are so messy.”

“Stop, you will kill me,” you cry when his fingers are still torturing you, and only when you kiss his cheek he stops. “I’m sorry, I tried to warn you but you were too fast.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh before a nervous laugh rolls out of his lips when he sees the mess in the room. “Now we will have to fix this, you know?”

You hum, hugging him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “It won’t take long if we’re two.”

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

“You decided to open my closet, and for what?”

“I wanted to pick your clothes,” he whines, grabbing a handful of clothes and placing them on the bed to fold them. “Remember we used to do it?”

You laugh, doing the same and facing him on the other side. “When we had to go somewhere together and we wanted to have the same vibes, not to go buy some bread.”

“When aren’t we together?” He asks, staring at you with a superior grin.

“Fine, you’re right,” you give up, not able to hide the smile on your face. “But it wasn’t a sabotaging program from me.”

After half an hour the clothes are back at their place, this time folded and placed so they won’t fall on whoever dares to open the doors. And Jaehyun is waiting for you to change into the clothes he picked.

“All black because I have to match you?” You ask, looking at what he chose.

“Of course,” he shrugs, sitting on the bed, waiting for you to change into the new clothes. “Where are you going?” He asks when you start making your way to the door.

“Bathroom? I have to change?”

He chuckles before a furrow forms on his face when you stare at him with a serious expression, “We never changed in another room.”

“Yeah, but you’re dating now, or sort of.”

“Sort of,” he says, shaking his head to move back the hair that covers his eyes. “Come on, we always did that, even when one of us was dating.”

You hum, walking back toward the bed, placing the clothes on the soft duvet to get rid of the ones you’re already wearing. Jaehyun is right, you’ve always done it. Things like this, so intimate, so private, always happened between you two without a glint of embarrassment. But now it’s different. Now that your fingers slowly grip the hem of your sweater to pull it over your head, you feel as if he’s eyes are burning into your skin. You know he’s not looking at you in a different way, but you wish he did. You wish he would stand up and stand close to you, letting the sweater fall at your feet, while his broad body presses against you, slowly trapping you between him and the wall before he kisses you as if he waited all his life for that moment.

But it doesn’t happen. He never waited for that moment to happen, you did, probably, without realizing, thinking that this, the beautiful relationship you had, was going to turn into something different. But when you’re out of the sweater, it doesn’t fall at your feet, and your back is not pressing against the wall, and the humiliation of the thought that crossed your mind makes you dress once again quickly.

“Should we get something for dinner,” he proposes when you’re almost done with the shopping, cart half-full.

“Are you staying?”

“You don’t want me anymore?” He pretends to be offended, staring at you with wide eyes and a hand on his chest.

You roll your eyes, “Okay drama queen, let’s choose something and then let’s go, you need to help me with all these things.”

“See, you only use me for my muscles,” he pouts, pushing the cart, and purposefully hitting you with a swing of the hip.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any other strong man like you in my life,” you mimic in a silly voice, fanning yourself and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Though I was a loser,” he grins, looking down at you.

“Oh, you are.”

The evening proceeds as usual for you two, he helps you put things back in place, you spend a good ten minutes bickering over what you should choose to eat for dinner (as if the fight at the shop wasn’t enough), and then you settle down on the couch to eat while watching one of your favorite series, one of the few things you don’t even take a second to decide. Your head rests against his shoulder when you’re not eating or commenting on something, and his arms stay wrapped around your shoulder for the whole time.

It feels like home.

Jaehyun knows exactly where to throw the things you used, he even washes the dishes while you go wash up and then you switch places, drying them while he does what you just did. He even knows where you keep the blankets so you could lay back on the couch comfortably.

And that’s how you fall asleep, with Jaehyun’s arms wrapped around your waist and his chin resting on your head, squeezing into the small couch because sleep took over you before you could even think of dragging your tired legs to your bedroom. Netflix is still running, playing more episodes before it goes on standby and the night is quiet outside while you lull into each other.

It feels like home.

The bubble that you and Jaehyun lived in is menacing to burst. You don’t want to be a hater, but every time he talks about her you feel your insides turn upside down.

You think that meeting her will soothe you down a little, that maybe you can find something in her that it’s not as amazing as Jaehyun says to be, something he hates but he didn’t see, too focused in the rush of the moment.

But when you meet her, your last hope falls apart.

Of course, Jaehyun is head over heels for her.

Not only she is objectively beautiful, funny and smart, but she’s everything he ever wanted.

You know his type, thanks to all the nights up spent talking about love and the other kids in your classes, from the silly, meaningless flings in elementary school, until now. His type never changed a lot, and now that you look back at it, and stare at her in silence, you realize you never fit in the box.

Yes, you’re beautiful, funny, and smart, but not in the same way she is, not in the way Jaehyun wants.

If you had to place her and yourself on a line, you would be on the far opposite ends.

“So, how did you meet?” You ask, even if you already know it, but you need to fill the silence while Jaehyun left you two alone to get in line to grab the food, and somehow you don’t want to know more about her.

She smiles at you, teeth so perfect that you wonder how they aren’t fake and then says, “It was a coincidence, you know those cliché types of meeting in movies?” You nod, playing with the napkin at your side. “We run into each other while we were both running late for the bus, we never caught it but we met each other. Destiny is great sometimes.”

You nod, mumbling ‘sure,’ forcing yourself to be happier about it. Because if he’s happy, you’re happy and vice versa, that’s how it always worked in your friendship. But right now you can’t be happy about anything, you can’t do anything but feel a lump in your throat when Jaehyun comes back and leaves a small peck on her forehead while placing the food in front of her but doesn’t do the same with you. He would’ve had. He used to be so physical with you and now you feel like you can’t even remember what a hug feels like.

But you swallow the gulp in your throat and try to make conversation, trying not to hate her because she doesn’t deserve it. Because now you know that even if you went back in time and changed things, Jaehyun wouldn’t have looked at you anyway. He probably wouldn’t have even looked at you like a friend, so this was the best you could get.

This was a dream. The same dream that was before, only with a stinging pain in your chest.

Somewhere along the line, it turns into a nightmare. It’s not when you realize that this is meant to be, that they are not a temporary story bound to break but something meant to last. After six months Jaehyun still looks at her with the same heart-shaped eyes, ears almost perking up like a dog when her name is spoken, and cheeks turning cheesily red every time she looks at him.

And you can only shake your head thinking that he is a loser, and the reason you hate it so much it’s because Jaehyun is not a loser for you.

You are for him. You are a clown, probably, and it’s even worst.

“Where were we when it happened?” You barely register Jaehyun talking to you, too lost in your thoughts, shaking your head to stare at him while your brain works fast to remember what he was talking about.

“Oh, it was the cabin we went to for my eighteenth birthday,” you say, forcing a smile to curl your lips.

“Yeah, right, that place was magical, we should go someday.”

“Oh, yes, that would be great,” you reply, thinking he’s talking to you but when he giggles your smile drops.

“No, honey, me and her,” he says, finger moving back and forth between himself and his girlfriend. “Remember that there was some sort of couples discounts or tours, there was a spa, right?”

You gulp, but push down the burning sensation in your throat it’s hard. “I guess, I don’t remember,” your voice comes out more stern than you want but Jaehyun doesn’t notice, he doesn’t care.

“Maybe I’ll text your mom, she’ll definitely know,” he says before turning to her again.

And you sit there, in silence, fighting back the tears because selfishly you don’t want your memories of your eighteenth birthday to be fogged by their new ones. That was your place, one of the many, and the idea of him going there kills you.

It’s dramatic, it’s stupid, but it’s exactly how you feel.

“I booked two seats at our favorite movie theatre, and you won’t believe it, but the movie we wanted to see it’s in our favorite room and I also got our favorite seats, the magic of the internet,” you cheer happily over the phone, your pc still open on the cinema page with the confirmation of the payment.

“Oh,” you hear Jaehyun from the other side. “For this Friday?”

You hum, still smiling thinking that you finally got to see the sequel you both waited for so long.

“I don’t think I can.”

You furrow. “What do you mean? Friday it’s our cinema night out, we always go there when there are new movies we like. We’ve been waiting for this for years.”

“Yeah, I know but it slipped my mind,” he says. “I have to meet her parents.”

Your jaw falls on the floor. It feels surreal, at this point you’re not even mad because he forgot but he’s going to meet her parents? After eight months?

“You hate meeting parents,” you chuckle, the words coming out of your mouth in a way that’s screaming you can’t believe them.

“Not hers.”

“What do you mean? The only parents you don’t hate are mine.”

“Maybe not anymore,” he sighs, and you can picture him rubbing his chin from the other side of the line. “Listen, she cares about this a lot.”

“I care about it too.”

“A movie over a dinner with my girlfriend’s parents? Please be serious.”

You hate how mocking his voice is, you hate that to him your plans are nothing.

“But I told you this Monday I was going to book them, why couldn’t you postpone it with her?”

“Because her mother proposed, I couldn’t say I couldn’t go because I had to watch a stupid movie.”

You hum, squeezing your eyes shut to push back tears, hoping he couldn’t hear your sniffle.

“Yeah, sure, have fun.” You have to close the call, his words and voice hurting you like thousands of needles against your skin.

You stare blankly at the screen, the map of the theatre still open with the colored seats you had selected and the transaction approved. A small crack forms in your heart when you realise that the night you had planned together wasn’t going to happen.

You get up, closing the laptop, you would’ve checked later if you could’ve got a refund, but now you just wanted to stare at your ceiling and let yourself go to silent tears.

It was just a stupid movie.

If only after a while a lot of things didn’t start to be stupid.

Lunches out at your favorite place during lesson breaks.

Nights up playing video games at your place or watching movies at his.

Even studying together for the exams, or your usual study hangouts to keep up with the lessons, became stupid.

Jaehyun being in love wasn’t painful anymore, but Jaehyun cutting you out of his life was killing you.

If he sat next to you during lessons it felt like a miracle and even then he would talk to you just a little. And you couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t the first time he was in love, and for how serious their story could be, was it necessary to cut you out like that?

You shared every moment together. And you can’t accept this ending like this.

“It’s been a lot since we last have been together,” you say, for a mere coincidence you two are walking together out of the last lesson of the day and he still hasn’t pulled away to go somewhere else, barely even warning you.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy,” Jaehyun replies, head low on his white converse on the ground.

You’ve been ignoring me, you’d like to answer but don’t. Not really in the mood to ruin this moment, it feels normal, like all the days you used to share going everywhere together. There weren’t silly jokes, and your arms weren’t intertwined, but it was better than nothing.

“Why don’t you come to mine this weekend? We don’t have a lot of essays, we could just order take out and spend some time together, like the old times.”

“Yeah, why not,” Jaehyun replies, turning his head to look at you with a smile.

Yeah, the old times.

The ones that are long gone now that you’re sitting on the floor, pillows all around you, your blanket covering your bodies, empty food boxes at your feet and the tv playing a movie not you nor him are paying attention to.

You’re too focused on him and he’s too focused on his phone.

You can see from the smile on his face that he’s texting her, he had been since all night actually. You could barely make a conversation while you were eating, either receiving no answer or syllables as one.

The old times are long gone, and you’re not sure you can live like this.

The decision came to you one night, after hours of crying all your tears while going through your old chats with Jaehyun and scrolling through the pictures you’ve taken together.

You couldn’t live like this anymore.

If he had decided to cut you out of his life, you were going to do the same with him.

But saying it was easier than doing it, and now that you found yourself under the tree you used to wait for him when you had different lessons, you don’t feel so confident about this anymore.

This is worst than confessing, it’s more humiliating because if you did that, he would simply reply that he doesn’t like you back, but saying you need to cut strings with him means that he won’t fight for you. You already know it, it had been written in the last months when he started to slip away from your hold more and more, at first without you even noticing, and now you were there.

“Hey,” he calls your name, and it feels weird on his tongue now, it’s not playfully, it’s not teasing, it’s not full of love, it’s cold and distant, and you hate that his happiness with another person took you there. You can’t blame yourself, because even though the pain, you always supported them, you couldn’t make him pay for not proving something for you, so why was he making you pay for feeling something for somebody else?

“Hey,” you smile back before taking a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to break off the longest-running friendship of your life. But no amount of nights up and preparatory speeches prepared you for this. It’s a crash of words and screams. Jaehyun doesn’t get why you would break your friendship for some ‘no’ and you telling him it wasn’t just that.

“Than what it is? I don’t get it, are you jealous I’m happy?”

“God, no, why would I even be jealous,” you reply with a bitter offended chuckle. Yes, you are jealous, but jealousy is not the thing that is making you do this, you could live with that, you could live watching his eyes light up when he stares at somebody else, you could live hearing her name roll out of his lips so sweetly, you could even live with them being always together, reminding you every second how happy they were. What you can’t live with is the pain his detachment brings along. You can’t do it anymore because now that your head lifts up and you look at him, you can’t recognize the person you grew up with anymore.

“Then can you tell me what’s wrong?” He insists, huffing loudly.

You bite your tongue, you can’t confess, you can’t tell him you love him, you can’t. It’s a secret you want to bring to your tomb, but you slip.

“You do what?”

Your eyes widen when you realize what you said, hands covering your mouth as if you could take it back. And you find yourself thinking that having the power of turning back time would be a great thing. You would’ve used it so much, but you don’t have it, and you’re forced to pay the price for all the stupid mistakes you’re making.

“Nothing.”

“You love me?” He asks before a groan of your name comes out of his mouth to demand an answer you don’t want to give him.

“No, I love you as a friend, and I… I hate that you’re cutting me off,” you lie, lips shaking, eyes full of tears falling freely down your cheeks. It’s pathetic, you can’t even remember the last time you cried in front of him, but it surely wasn’t as humiliating as this. There was no reassurance in his eyes this time, no strong arms to wrap around you and hold you tight while he whispered that everything would’ve been alright, but there was no use for a lie, nothing was going to be alright. It was just an already written mess.

“Don’t lie to me,” he hisses through gritted teeth, and you lower your head, sobbing silently.

“It doesn’t matter,” you scream to the ground, to yourself. No, it doesn’t matter, what you feel doesn’t matter, you don’t matter. To him, you don’t matter, not like you used to for sure.

“It does, that’s why you wanted to know if I would have sex with you?”

You rub your face and shake your head. “No, I… I don’t care, I don’t even want you to love me back. I need us to be done.”

“Because I said no? Because I hang out with my girlfriend? You are jealous, of course, you care.”

“I’m not jealous, I wish I at least still had the same place in your heart, I was your best friend, you loved spending time with me, we were close, we were happy and now, you avoid me. You don’t even sit next to me in class.”

Jaehyun sighs, shaking his head before turning around and walking in a circle. You wish you could read him like you used to do, but you can’t understand if he’s mad or sad, maybe both.

“How you loving me doesn’t come between us?” He asks when it seems he made up his mind.

“It doesn’t, it’s… it’s not even love. I need time alone, Jaehyun,” you sigh, his full name rolling out of your lips hurts. “I’m happy for you, I truly am, but you’re so distant and you’ve never been like this and I can’t take it.”

Another loud sigh comes out of Jaehyun’s lips, the more he stares at you the less he could understand, but he couldn’t blame you for feeling what you felt, you surely didn’t do it on purpose and you hated what you felt more than him probably, considering you were suffering so much to the point of breaking what held you together for so long.

“So what do we do? Ignore each other?”

You sniffle. “You are already ignoring me.”

“I – I’m sorry, maybe I did but I didn’t notice,” he justifies with a slightly offended tone. “I’ve never been better than now, and I don’t want this to change.”

“And that’s fine,” you reply, holding your bag closer to you, “It’s fine but I need you out of my life because like this, with you being half in and half out, I can’t go on. I can’t move, and I… I just hate being this away from you. But it’s fine, as long as you’re happy, I’ll be fine.”

You thought that was going to be liberating but it turned out not to be. Not when Jaehyun was the only one you knew. Sure, you talked around on campus here and there, but the only one you could count on was him. Too afraid to meet people and too tired to open up with them.

Jaehyun already knew everything, in fact, no one else knew you how much Jaehyun did.

And not having him anymore was the worst feeling ever.

It was hard not picking up the phone to tell him something in the heat of the moment, but all your last sent texts with no answer or ‘I’ll watch it later,’ were the awakening you needed to put the phone down and feel your heart sink to your knees. You couldn’t have texted him anyway but the reminder of the last cold months was enough to make you believe it was the right choice.

You had survived a lot of things, with him by your side, you could survive even this, without him.

So you try to concentrate on your studies, hoping all the words will drown you in a sea that is not as acid as the one that your brain drags you into when Jaehyun crosses your mind. And it works, only until you decided that you can’t lose your sanity over books and essays and maybe you should find a better way to cope with this.

It’s not easy, every step you move on your own reminds you of how present Jaehyun has always been in your life. From the silliest things such as studying or buying something you needed, to the biggest and most important steps of your life.

It’s heart-wrenching, really, to imagine your future without him. The graduation you planned won’t be the same, the holiday you longed for so much after that won’t probably even exist, and there won’t be nights up spent together trying to navigate the job world. And when your mind wonders further you realize there will be no wedding day, even when you would’ve found the right person for you, the one that can truly take that place in your heart and push Jaehyun out of there, he won’t be there, by your side, being your man of honor. And you won’t be at his, and now it sounds better like this, but with time, knowing you would’ve moved on from him, it only brings a lingering pain in your chest.

You miss him.

You miss yourself with him.

Because even after a few weeks when you decided to go out, sign in some college clubs to make new friends, and you do, you find a group of people you like, you still can’t be your true self like you were with him. They wouldn’t get you, there are high possibilities they might even find you weird, with your random singing and dancing, and your silly faces to make him laugh, or the started conversation in the middle of another one even if they weren’t related at all. There are so many more sides of you they would never understand. And you can only be yourself in the four walls of your room, but even there, you feel like you’re hard to find.

Time passes by and you feel like you’re doing better. You finally found your place in the world without him, taking time to focus on your passions, your studies, and new people that are slowly making you feel understood.

You barely see Jaehyun anymore, let alone interact with him. When you cross in the corridors or in class you ignore him just as much as he ignores you. Well, at least you try to, because you feel that if you stare for too long you will fall in the same hole you got yourself out of with difficulty.

And you succeed until the holiday approach and you feel just a bit lonelier, you can’t help but think back at the times you spent together, afternoons spent walking around town to see the decorated shops and city’s lights, or drinking hot chocolate together while you studied the last things before the winter break, or how his mother would video call as a coincidence all the time when he was in the bathroom and you two would end up talking more than them.

But you learned how to sigh and shrug those thoughts away, coming to terms with the fact that you will always miss the feeling of home he meant for you.

But it still hurts, not like before, but it’s still there, when your eyes linger on him and his arm wrapped around her in some classes you share, or when you barge into them outside, his head laying against hers, or her eyes looking up at him while her nose scrunches and he kisses that playful pout away.

It’s an annoying type of pain, it’s not even love anymore, or at least you try to convince yourself, it’s like when you feel the need to scratch a part of your body you just can’t scratch, that’s what Jaehyun is, a part you will have to carry with you forever, even if he’s not part of your life anymore, because he will always be a part of you.

But you’re doing fine.

You truly are.

It simply gets heavy at times to carry that dead weight around, but you are light. There’s a bright future waiting for you, and you’re hopeful you won’t be alone with your new friends supporting you and distracting you when sometimes your brain decides to sabotage you.

But you’re still moving on with your life, small steps taking you further on the road every day. Well, that’s it until one morning you open the door to find Jaehyun standing there with his same old brown jacket, ruined shoes and the same, somehow still familiar, face.

“What are you doing here?” Is the only thing your brain manages to formulate, it’s not a harsh question, there’s not even hesitation in your voice, you’re just genuinely surprised.

“Can we talk?” He asks, moving his weight side to side on his feet.

So a few minutes later you are sitting on the couch, a cup of coffee in front of you and silence fills the room with a weird atmosphere. You don’t think it’s awkward, but it’s not even as comfortable as the silence between you two used to be. Anyway, you can’t keep this going for much longer, you’re not used to having him so close, you can still faintly make out his scent that now is surely mixed with hers, and that brings back too many memories you’re not sure you want to revive right there.

“So? Do you need something? Or maybe something happened?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer right away, he sighs, nervously tapping his feet on the floor and playing with his thumbs before he turns around to look at you.

“I know why you wanted us to stop being friends, and I respect that. I didn’t react in the best way but I was surprised and mad, I won’t lie, I know I pushed you away but back then I still had you, and when you decided to cut me off I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I had to do it,” you say, crossing your legs and studying his expression, he’s barely making eye contact with you, gaze moving around to room to find words he probably doesn’t even know.

“I know,” he hums, lowering his head. “But I miss you. And I… I’d like to at least be friends again but I also respect if you don’t want to, maybe you still love m –”

“No,” you stop him, “I don’t… I liked you, at least I think so.”

“Is there really a difference?”

“Yeah, the latter should be less painful.”

“Was it?”

You raise your gaze, locking eyes with him, and when you still feel a striking pain in your heart, you deny it with a movement of your head. “But I don’t love you anymore,” you still add. It’s true. You miss him, but that’s a different feeling.

“So… can we be friends again? I promise I’ll make up time with you. I was so caught up in her that I just… I didn’t notice you were slipping out of my mind.”

You hum, shaking your head and scratching your neck. “It’s fine, it was in the past.”

“Yeah, but I hurt you.”

“I’m fine, Jae. It doesn’t matter.” Or it does, but is there something you can do to fix it? You can’t turn back around.

He nods, drifting his gaze away again and you know he’s waiting for an answer you’re not sure you can give him. Not right on the spot. It’s true that you want him back, but you’re not sure taking him back won’t break you down again.

“I need to think about it,” you whisper after a few minutes, watching his eyes drop, that wasn’t the answer he wanted, but you have to put yourself first. If there was something that this taught you was that lesson. After all, you were always going to have yourself and not anybody else.

“My mother says hi,” you say while pushing your phone back into your pocket and start to walk back to Jaehyun’s side.

“Oh, it’s been a while since I last heard from her,” he replies, a small smile curls his lips as he keeps moving next to you to reach the closest cafe.

Yes, after a week or more of asking yourself the same question you were able to make a decision and take him back. You had set some rules, telling him that you needed time, and maybe sometimes you would’ve needed time to yourself, but Jaehyun understood, after all, you two were always the same, even if you changed, even if you drifted apart, he was still the only one that knew you so deeply and vice versa.

So, it started slowly, allowing each other to text, not as often as you used to do, not with the same tone or conversations of your old texts, but it was something. After a while, he started sitting close to you during some lessons, not always, and not only because he wanted to be with her, but also because you didn’t want to have him that close again. You still needed time, and even if you got back together you could feel it wasn’t the same as before. You don’t talk about the future anymore, and the few times some doubts spill out you two are never in each other’s plans. You don’t rest your head on his shoulder anymore, not that one night you decided to watch a movie together, not the few times you sit next to each other in class. You don’t poke his cheeks, burying your finger in his dimple. You don’t change in front of each other anymore. You don’t go grocery shopping together. You don’t spend nights up rewatching your favorite series.

And you are terrified that with time you wouldn’t have recognized not even a small piece of him. But you let that in the future, deciding to focus on the present, and on yourself.

You are fine, you found yourself again, and you had Jaehyun in your life.

Nothing is as before, you used to be home to each other, different sides of the same coin, partners in life, and now, you’re just standing there, side by side, an invisible line separating you.

In strangers’ eyes you two look just fine, like any other friends would appear, but to you, in your heart, you’re as close as strangers.

I hope you liked it, if you did please leave feedback is always appreciated! ♡

#feedback #reblogs

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neowinestainedress · 2 months

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tumblr sucks lol but thank you for keep trying to reblog to let me know your opinion!!

i agree with everything you said, finding the right people can make such a big difference in our lives. i'm glad you liked the story and the development of their relationship!

‘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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neowinestainedress · 2 months

Text

she stole the show poor johnny 😔

between us — johnny suh

title: between us

pairing: professor!johnny x lawyer!oc x fem!reader | husband!johnny x wife!oc x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself tangled in the life of the Suhs after Mr. Suh starts working as an English professor at your father’s university. You don’t understand why they float around you so much, but soon enough, you can’t get enough of that secret, dirty game anymore.

genre: smut, fluff, plot, mxfxf, married couple, established relationship, age gap, bisexual characters, aged up johnny (to his early 30)

warnings: age gap, daddy/mommy issues, smut, sexual tension, 3some, mxfxf, dom/sub dynamics, mdom, fdom(oc), fsub(reader), mentions of s*x toys, unprotected s*x, pet names (honey, babe, doll...), or*l s*x (reader receiving and fem giving), fing*ring (reader receiving and fem giving), n!pple play, dirty talk, praise, minor degradation, size k!nk, 1 face slap, 1 *ss slap, 1 cl!t slap, hair pulling, talks of face f*cking, dp and face sitting, sub space, overstimulation, reader goes non-verbal at the end, aftercare | inclusivity notes: reader’s hair can be grabbed bc i’m degenerated and needed to write hair pulling during or*l, there are no descriptions of the texture and type tho, reader wears hair in different hairstyles (not specified), reader feels small because she’s shorter than them and in general feels ‘intimidated’ (body type is not specified), no use of y/n

visuals

wc: 16.590k

a/n: i’m sure this isn’t what people were expecting when i talked about writing mxfxf, but what can i say, this idea came to me and i had to write it. at first, it was supposed to be less complicated, just hot steamy sex with two hot almost-dilf-and-milf but you know me by now, if it’s not deep and complicated we don’t write it here. disclaimer: they are all bi and this is not just a straight couple using a bisexual person to spice up their s*xual life, i can’t say more because i don’t want to spoil anything but i just wanted to make this clear. i hope you’ll enjoy, if you do please leave feedback with asks or reblog (so the story reaches more people) also this is the first time i write smut between two women so please let me know if it’s good!! love u ♡

The Suhs are by now a known presence in your life. Since Mr. Suh started teaching at your father’s university, it became almost impossible to not see him for more than two days straight.

You don’t feel like blaming your father. Actually, you get it. Mr. Suh is a charming, brilliant man in his early thirties. After years of studying and being an assistant, he started teaching English literature at another prestigious university, the one your father is president of. And in his free time —and you wonder how he did that— he even wrote a few books, the first ones being analyses of writers’ works, and then a successful mystery novel.

You like him, even if he intimidates you a bit. He’s a person you can have interesting conversations with, maybe too interesting. You can’t understand what hides behind his elegant attire; either suits and ties or brown pants and polos or vests, his brown hair is always pulled back, only occasionally some loose strands fall on his forehead and make him appear less put together. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him dressed casually, or crack a joke, but then again, it’s not really your place to know.

But Mr. Suh, also known as Johnny, is never alone when he comes to your parents’ house, or tags along at dinners, parties, and more, anything that your father likes to organize with his academic clique.

His wife, Aaliyah Taylor Suh, is always with him. She’s not less interesting or intimidating than him. Mrs. Suh is a drop-dead gorgeous woman in her early thirties like her husband. She’s an amazing lawyer, working at one of the top firms in the city, and probably that’s also why she comes off as piercing to you, it’s like she always knows what to say and do, and you struggle to keep up. And just like her husband, it’s also in the way she presents herself; she’s always perfect with her long goddess braids that reach her waist which is always perfectly hugged by the beautiful, expensive suits or dresses she wears.

This should pretty much sum up why you don’t talk much with them, even if they’re nice —at least it seems from the few conversations you had— you don’t feel at their level. Not only do they look like gods in your eyes, but they also fit the perfect stereotype of the rich, powerful couple that makes heads turn around every time they walk into a room —yours included— and the small, yet significant, age gap only makes it worse.

It would be easier to talk with them if your father wouldn’t constantly remind you that. He always had a passion to turn you and your dreams down, but since they are part of your life, it only worsened. Your father never misses the occasion to point your flaws out; how clumsy you are, walking around and stumbling on your own feet, dropping things every now and then, and messing up your words during speeches. Instead, he’s amazed by their brains and how quickly they became successful, they spent years on books and still never lost each other and found time to get married, they accomplished everything you haven’t, and it seems impossible for him to not slam it in your face.

And you agree, partially. You envy them. They seem to always be at the right place, at the right time, never saying a word wrong, and always looking straight out of Vogue. You’re also jealous of their love, you don’t know what a stable relationship looks like —not that you care to know, nobody your age seems to be doing it for you— unlike their stable, lasting marriage that is the deal closing off a just as long period of dating. They were high-school sweethearts, and you envy the way they still look at each other. Nobody ever looked at you like that, as if you meant the world to them. And you don’t understand how they survived all these years, you almost went insane during college, the two relationships you tried to have failed like a ship sinking in a storm. And now that you’re free, you’re still suffering the aftermath of all the stress you’ve been through.

So you struggle to understand why they circle around you like moths to a flame.

It all started months ago. At first, it was only longing gazes, you could always feel them on you, and you always thought that there was something wrong with you; your make-up smudged, your hair out of place, your clothes dirty or crumpled up, but, even if you weren’t like them, there was nothing wrong with you.

Then, one night, things started to make more sense.

It was late, around 10 pm. As much as you couldn’t stand your father, you tried to tag along as much as possible to find some connections career-wise. You could’ve asked him a favour —doubting he would do it— but you had no intention of making him take credit for your future. You preferred talking with his academic friends or critics on your own, it hadn’t been successful yet, but you won’t give up.

You were standing in the kitchen, a glass in hand as you tried to drown in the alcohol and forget every word you had heard from your father when Mr. Suh approached you first.

“Tiring, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh’s voice brought you back to reality. His build, tall form leaning against the fridge as he stared at you with a small smirk on his face, his hair was falling a bit more freely since the gel had given up after the whole night —day, you’d dare to say, you’re not so sure he had time to go back home and get ready for this dinner again.

You tried not to get lost in his beauty and swiftly hummed, nodding. “Yeah, but at least the wine is good.”

Mr. Suh snickered, starting to walk over to you, a hand in his hair as he shook it back. “Pinot?”

Your eyes moved up in his, he was standing so close you could feel his breath hit your face, and you struggled to find the words. Throat dry and hands so sweaty you were sure you would’ve dropped the glass on the ground. “Yeah, Pinot, or at least, I think so,” you mumbled, giggling awkwardly as you looked down and took a step back, trying to put some distance between you two.

“Can I have a taste?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his piercing gaze staring right into your soul.

You should’ve told him that surely there were some glasses left outside, or maybe opted to take a look in the wine rack behind him, but you didn’t, and your hand moved to his almost right away.

You watched him smile in a ‘thank you,’ before his lips met the glass, alcohol pouring down his throat, a bit too messily for his usual put-together act, a drop dripping on his chin against his tan skin.

Mr. Suh smiled, humming happily as he handed the —almost empty— glass back to you. “As imagined, my favourite,” he winked.

“Oh, good — good. I — I like it too,” you slurred, panicking and feeling so small. And guilty because something about all of this felt so wrong and dirty and you immediately thought of Mrs. Taylor. Was Johnny flirting or were you too horny to think straight? They were a perfect couple, they couldn’t be cheating, right?

So, you scrolled your head, and said goodbye to him, quickly walking out of the room with the excuse ‘you were sure your father was looking for you’ but in reality, you just needed a breath of fresh air.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. You would find yourself alone with Mr. Suh more than you wished to, and he was always so subtle with everything that you started to think you were going insane. He couldn’t have possibly brushed his hand against yours as he walked by your side to go to his wife, right? And he couldn’t have willingly rested a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you, trying to make way to get to your father? And why would he call you ‘honey’ with that sweet, intoxicating, slightly condescending tone, and only when you two were alone? His voice was always sensual, but you could swear it would drop even lower when he had you alone in the kitchen or in the library you spent some much time in, lecturing you about some poem or book, watching as you hung from his lips.

Anyway, you thought you could deal with it, you would only see him when your dad invited them, and even if it was a lot, you could stick with your mother —a slightly more likeable presence to you that wasn’t best friend with the Suhs.

Things worsened when Mrs. Suh started talking to you. The first, serious, conversation was about a pretty boring thing, some case she was working on. But there was something in the way she talked to you, laughing as she dismissed the conversation and simply stared into your eyes before asking to talk about yourself. Unlike her husband, she was curious, almost as if she wanted to get deep into you and discover things you probably didn’t even know about yourself.

And you froze. You had nothing to say. Everything that came to your mind was either too boring or too wild to be known to her.

“So? Too many secrets to hide?” She joked, showing you her pearly white teeth before winking.

“No, uhm,” you mumbled, trying to find the words, but losing them again when your eyes fell on her hands, golden jewellery shining on her fingers as they wrapped around the flute so delicately and yet sensually before she brought the glass to her full lips tinted with dark purple. Your head snapped up, trying to control your breath and not show the erratic movements of your chest, and squeezing your thighs together for some reason. “I’m working. Yes, busy working and trying to survive my dad.” Busy. You wrote for a small magazine online that paid you dust; reason why you were back living with your parents and kept writing your book, hoping to finish it and publish it one day and get the chance to be as far as possible from that house.

She smirked, and you could see it wasn’t because she was happy with your answer but almost as if she was having the time of her life at the way you were acting. “So, work and dad make you, you?”

“No,” you replied right away, slightly offended too. “I thought we were talking about… about things… happening now.”

A low chuckle rolled out of her lips, “I’d love to get to know you better, you know? Your family is so outgoing, they can’t keep anything in, but you…” she paused, eyes looking at you up and down, “you’re so secretive, reserved, like a candy to unwrap.”

You gulped, fearing she had the wrong idea about you and her husband and was planning a way to kill you. Aaliyah wasn’t stupid, of course she had seen the way Johnny talked to you and, worse, the way you reacted. She was also a lawyer, a brilliant one, you doubt some of her clients were even innocent and yet they got away with everything, she could stand up for herself in court, and Johnny would find a poetic way to get rid of your body and turn this into the plot of his next success.

“I… I…”

“You should spend some time with us,” she said, smiling, crossing her legs and moving her braids behind, showing her cleavage, “you know, at our place, alone. No family getting in the way, no father painting you bad. Just adults having fun.”

“Oh,” you gasped, gulping as you felt the air in your lungs disappear. “Sure, I’d love to.” But the truth is, you wouldn’t survive being alone with them.

“Beautiful dress, by the way,” she complimented, getting up and walking past you, “shows all the right curves.”

That was the start of everything. Unfortunately, she had no intention of killing you. Instead, she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you better, saving you from your father by engaging in conversations with you when you were all at the same table, asking what you liked, and mostly, complimenting you. At first, it could’ve been mistaken for a ‘girls support girls’ kind of moment, but quickly you started to perceive something else. Her looks, her touches and her words weren’t any different than Mr. Suh’s ones, so lingering, so secretive, and teasing, feeling like a breeze that taunts your skin with a sense of relief that’s never meant to come.

Two months have passed since that moment, and your plans of keeping the distance crumble apart when you find yourself alone with them.

It’s not the first time, but you feel today might be more difficult to deal with. Your father is stuck with an idea of you from when you were five years old and in constant need of supervision, or else you can’t explain why he almost treats them as your babysitters.

‘We’ll be out today, look after her,’ these are the words your father exclaims before walking out of the Villa he owned on this lake abandoned by God, your mother already at the car parked in the driveway.

You’re not a child but you surely act like one, rolling your eyes and letting out a loud grunt before puffing out air.

Mr. Suh laughs, humming lowly before turning to you. “You’re still a child in his eyes, aren’t you? His sweet, innocent, little baby.”

That comment shouldn’t have had any effect on you, yet, it does. It feels like he is implying something else, it’s clear in his tone and especially his eyes. But you shake it off, laughing before replying ‘yes,’ and then running up the stairs with a faint goodbye. You hear Mrs. Taylor say something, probably asking you to stay, but you pretend you don’t hear and disappear into your room.

You can avoid them only for so long before you don’t know what to do anymore and decide to go downstairs —terrible decision.

You think they left, so you walk outside to read a book under the porch and enjoy a cold lemonade, but when you step into the garden you see them by the pool.

Aaliyah is laughing tenderly at Johnny who’s dancing on the trampoline, winking at her before jumping in the pool, splashing water around, making her turn around and cover her face more with the large floppy hat she’s wearing.

You feel like dying, this is not how you want to see them, and you have to force your eyes up, not making them fall on her ass. You’re still in time to go back, just one step behind and you can go upstairs as if nothing happened, but you’re not quick enough.

“Hey,” Mr. Suh greets you. “We were hoping you would join us,” he smiles at you, walking out of the pool by the stairs, scrolling the water out of his hair before pushing it behind.

You gulp, which is the only thing you can do to try to water your throat —and more embarrassingly, don’t moan at the sight of his sculpted body. And then you smile, a tight forced smile as you still stand like a statue. “Oh, I won’t join you, I just wanted to read.”

Mrs. Suh snickers and you watch her turn around to stand out of the pool, strong arms lifting her body up —and only now you realize that she’s pretty ripped too, the soft curves complimented by the signed abs, toned arms, and thighs.

“You go to the gym together?” Dumbly slips out of your mouth and by the time you cover it with your hands it’s already too late, but the comment makes them smile.

“You pay attention to details, don’t you?” She asks, clicking her tongue and smirking. She then takes the hat off, letting the braids fall on her back before she sits on the round table, pulling a chair out to gesture you to take a seat. “And I don’t train as much as he does, prefer pilates actually.”

“Oh,” you reply, momentarily bringing your attention to Johnny who’s now sitting on the other chair, leaving you the seat in the middle. “Heard is good for the body, nice choice.”

“Are you going to sit, or do we have to drag you here?” Mr. Suh jokes, head pointing at the empty space between them.

You shake your head, looking down as you take a deep breath and force your legs to work. You can do that, you just have to sit in the middle of the hottest couple you’ve ever laid eyes on and that for some reason loves to tease you, you’ll be fine.

“See, it wasn’t that hard,” she says when your ass touches the chair, book and lemonade resting in front of you on the round table.

“So, enjoying your break?” Johnny asks and then throws his hair back to scroll some more water out, but that makes you lose your focus and gulp nervously.

“Yeah, needed a vacation. Would be better if it wasn’t with my father,” you add, looking down.

She chuckles. “You two really don’t get along. Poor thing, he doesn’t get you, does he?”

You hesitate to reply, 1) you don’t get if she’s mocking you and 2) you wouldn’t care because the way she called you poor thing makes you feel things.

“He thinks I’m a child. I mean, he treats you like babysitters, I’m an adult,” you reply when your brain starts working again, and sadness fills your expression.

“Sure you are,” Johnny adds, chuckling, and you frown. “Sorry, it’s just funny that when you get mad at him, you act a bit childlike. Teenagers-like, if it makes you feel better.”

You sigh, frowning as you stare at him. “You think I’m stupid?”

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

“You think I’m as stupid as he thinks I am? Because the way he talks about me would make anybody think I’m this clueless, hopeless, dumb woman who has no idea what she’s doing with her life.”

Aaliyah chuckles tenderly, “Honey, you’re smart. Johnny can’t quite shut up about you after you two talk. He loves your takes on authors and the way you write, says he would love to have you work with him somehow.”

You almost stop breathing. He talks about you to his wife? He remembers what you say during your conversation or when you talk about what you write? Damn, you doubt people even listen to you.

“Oh, thanks,” yet, this is the only thing you mumble, and it’s fine like this. Anything else coming from your mouth could dangerously be a squeal.

“Anyway,” she says, leaning closer, making you move back and hold your breath, only to damn yourself when her fingers brush on your skin to wipe away something that dropped on you with the wind, “your dad’s not here now, why don’t you join us by the pool and stop stressing about him?”

You smile but shake your head. “No, it’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure? The water is perfect,” Johnny adds, standing up and towering over you. “Couldn’t convince my sweet wife to jump in but maybe you’re braver than her,” he winks, and you don’t have the courage to turn around and see if she saw.

“Oh…” you whisper and then look at the pool. If only he knew the problem wasn’t the water, you wouldn’t think twice about jumping in.

“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Suh pleads, and before you can realize it, her hands are wrapped around your wrist. This is the first time she touches you, not a caress, not a tease, but a firm hold on you, and it shouldn’t send shivers down your spine, but it does. Her fingers are slim and soft, and you find yourself wishing you could feel them more, preferably somewhere else on your body.

“Wait,” you try to retort, but you have no choice. She’s dragging you to the edge of the pool and Johnny is walking right behind you, you’d be trapped either way.

“Here,” she says, coming to a stop when you reach the border of the pool. “Much better than sipping lemonade while reading a book all alone, right?”

“I don’t have a bikini,” you say, only now realizing you didn’t go downstairs for that.

“Are you wearing lace?” Johnny asks, walking so close that you can feel the heat of his body.

“Wh-why do you care?”

“Dummy,” he chuckles, “if you’re not, you can jump in anyway, it won’t ruin the lingerie.”

“Oh, of course, yeah, of course,” you mumble, looking away to don’t show how embarrassed you are. But their laughs —even if lighthearted— don’t help you at all, and you still feel trapped between them. “No, by the way, I have no reason to wear lace,” you add, trying to fill the silence.

“Really?” Aaliyah asks, tilting her head to the side. You turn around, facing the pool so you can look at them both —and fool yourself you have a way out now that your back is free.

“Well, yes… I’m… I’m not really people’s type,” you mutter, torturing the inside of your cheeks and your fingers.

Johnny snickers, “Weird, you look exactly like —” he doesn’t finish though, and you barely see the glance his wife gives him to stop him. “I’m sure you are someone’s type.”

You nod, but your brain is slowly melting, from the weather, from their closeness, and now because you can’t understand why she stopped him and what he truly wanted to say.

“Undress,” she says resolutely, and you’re brought back to earth, staring at her with wide eyes. “To swim… remember?” she finishes, head tilted to the side and a mocking smirk on her face. You know she’s having the time of her life watching you panic, you’re giving it all way, from the way your breath falters to the way your chest heavies.

“Sure, to swim,” you repeat but it’s more to ground yourself. You hope the water is freezing cold, so maybe your body can cool down, and so can your thoughts. You quickly lift your dress over your shoulders and by the time you can see again, you see them in the water, standing right in front of you, leaning against the other side of the pool.

“Are you coming?” Johnny asks, voice raspy but clear.

You hum, kneeling down, feeling the water with your hand. It’s not cold enough to calm you down and to make you take time, you have to jump in. So, you do. It’s not too deep and you can walk to them.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Aaliyah voices out, deeply breathing in the air and moving her fingers in abstract figures on the surface.

“Yeah. I…” you look down, watching your bra and how little it covers, the damp fabric highlighting your hard nipples even more.

“Shy?” It rolls from her tongue like venom, so sweet yet poisonous as her eyes lock in yours.

“No, no,” you laugh awkwardly. “Why would I?”

“We wouldn’t blame you, we can come off as quite intimidating at times,” Johnny says, the corner of his lips twitching in a smirk before it relaxes.

“You don’t intimidate me,” you lie, chuckling and crossing your arms on your chest.

She laughs. “My nipples are hard too, babe. It’s the cold,” she reassures you with a smile, but you don’t feel better. You’re not so sure it’s only the cold, you think they became this hard a few minutes ago when you were practically sandwiched between them.

“Why did you come here?” You ask out of nowhere, and their expressions change. “I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t want you here,” you explain, “but you could do vacations on your own and don’t have to suffer through my father, so I don’t understand.”

“Thought we said not to talk about him?” She says, raising a brow.

“Well, I want to talk about you. You two have it all, you’re rich, powerful, smart, in love, and yet, you…” you float around me, always, constantly, “...you spend so little time together.”

Mr. Suh laughs, his head rolling back for a second. “We’re always together. I come home to her, not your father,” he jokes and she laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Also, this might not be the only vacation we will do this year. We always go to Santorini in September before Uni starts,” she adds.

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

“But let’s talk about you,” she says. “Why are you here? Your brothers didn’t come.”

“My brothers can do whatever they want, I can’t.”

“Why?” This time Johnny is the one asking.

“I’d let him down,” you add, lowering your gaze because you don’t like the look of pity behind their eyes. “But I don’t want to think about him. You’re good at diving,” you change the subject, addressing Johnny, hoping it will be enough to move the focus from you.

“Thanks,” he replies, a proud smirk on his face.

“Don’t stroke his ego, he’s going to jump again and splash around,” she jokes, rolling her eyes.

“You’re already wet, so why would it be a problem?” He smirks, and then turns to you and winks, making you choke on your own saliva, but you try to cover it up with a fit of cough, something that makes the couple giggle under their breath more.

Aaliyah swims to you, pushing you back so Johnny can have space and maybe don’t drown you with his jump. Your skin is on fire as her hands place on your back as she guides you and you’re thankful your feet can touch because you can barely walk, so imagine swimming.

“He was in the swimming team in high school,” Aaliyah explains, covering her eyes from the sun with a hand and squeezing them so she can watch Johnny. You mimic her, humming at her words. “He was so good, I think I fell in love on the bleachers watching him swim.”

You chuckle tenderly and try to imagine a younger version of them, and you can almost see them. You wonder if their personalities were the same more than ten years ago, you wonder how they looked, you wonder if they would’ve ever imagined to still be here after so many years. But in any version you come up with, you still don’t fit. Actually, it makes you look like a stain even more.

“Your love is… strong,” you whisper when Johnny finally dives in and she cheers before bringing her attention to you.

“It is,” she agrees, a sweet smile showing her straight, white teeth, “even though weird things happen sometimes.”

You giggle, frowning. “Weird things?” Your voice is shaking, and you don’t want to connect the two dots that are so vivid in your head.

“What are you talking about? Praising me?” Mr. Suh asks, grinning, running a hand in his wet hair before hugging his wife from the back and kissing her cheek.

“Not about you, nothing impressive about that jump,” she jokes. “About us.”

“Us?”

She hums. “I was telling her how I fell in love with you, and she said our love is strong.”

You want to ask about the weird things, you want to ask so much more, but you don’t. And you simply stand there, watching Mr. Suh’s hands wrap around her body, feeling jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

The whole thing gets more intense as time passes by. You’re curious about them, as individuals and as a couple, and you can’t deny the tension anymore. Not tonight.

The three of you haven’t really spoken, mostly because you slipped away as soon as you crossed ways, and after a few tries, they stopped trying to approach you. But the buzzing chemistry is strong across the room.

You try not to look at them, you even try to engage in conversation with your father —when he’s not attached to Mr. Suh’s ass— and some of his other friends, but it’s useless. Your head always turns in their direction, it’s almost like a voice is luring you in.

You guess you look dumb from the outside, and you’re sure that if you looked at yourself in the mirror you would tell yourself to work on the way you stare at —almost strangers— with eyes filled with lust. You don’t want to, you don’t want to look at them, even less with that wide-eyed gaze and agape mouth, but you can’t help it.

“Honey,” your mother’s voice scoffs, “what are you doing?”

You perceive her scolding —disgusted— gaze on you and you cough, looking at her to be met with her judging eyes. Typical of your mother, usually you only get her looks with no need for words to be added.

“Sorry, I was zoned out,” you justify, chuckling awkwardly, but it only makes her frown more and sigh. “I’m a bit tired,” you lie, trying to fool her.

“Just don’t look weird,” she dismisses you with a wave of hand. “Not more than the usual,” she adds, leaving you alone.

You roll your eyes, scoffing loudly once you’re sure she’s out of sight and then start walking to the table with the drinks. You’re not sure adding alcohol to the picture will make it better but who knows, maybe ending up passed out next to a toilet is better than lusting over a married couple that is probably just messing with you.

It doesn’t work.

You blame it on the hard drinks your friends make you drink when you go out, your alcohol tolerance must be out of the roof by now, but it doesn’t matter because your biggest problem still stands.

Your problem is standing on the other side of the room now that you’re sitting on some couches with the fourth drink in hand. You shouldn’t feel like this, stomach upside down and a frown hardening your beautiful features while you look at them. But you can’t help it. Mr. Suh’s hand sitting at the side of Aaliyah’s waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the maroon dress she’s wearing. You can’t hear her laugh as her head rolls back before falling on his shoulder at something the person they are talking to is saying, but your brain replays the sound anyway, and you smile.

The beam on your face drops quickly when her eyes lock into yours, Johnny is not looking, busy paying attention to the person in front of them, but her gaze is on you. It’s piercing even with the distance between you and it takes your breath away. You should make this look normal, raise a hand and wave with a small smile before turning away, but you don’t. You’re stuck, like you always are around them, and the only thing that moves is your heart, pounding fast and violently in your chest as you watch her every move, one hand bringing a glass to her lips and the other meeting Johnny’s on her waist. You’d love to roll your eyes and huff ‘he’s yours, we get it,’ but you only feel a stinging pain in your heart, and a less painful one, well… somewhere else.

The spell breaks when she turns around, eyes on her husband and laughing again as if nothing happened, almost as if you’re not even in the room anymore.

Your shoulders drop, your breath gets normal again, and your head lowers. It’s not normal to feel like this, especially when it all feels like a mockery at times. You know there’s no space for you. You can’t be her and run your fingers in his hair without getting scowled at for ruining it. You can’t be her and kiss him on the lips and chuckle when he rubs your nose against yours. You can’t be her and see him in the comfort of when he wakes up or goes to bed.

But you play and play, and fool yourself you can, getting lost in those fantasies. You need a breath of fresh air.

Just like the alcohol, the minutes spent outside to cool your body and mind don’t work. When you go back to sit at your spot, you realize they’re sitting opposite to you. You’d leave again but you have no excuse, and it would become even more awkward now that your father sits next to you. But it’s fine, they’re talking again with someone else and you can focus on what your father is saying. Or maybe not, his conversation with another one of his intellectual friends is boring, nothing interesting comes from his mouth, just old, recurrent, wrong takes. You’d get in the conversation, just to feel something else that night and end up in a discussion with your dad because you need to prove him wrong, but your brain is somewhere else.

Once again, in front of you. Mrs. Suh is sitting on Johnny’s lap, somehow her back manages to stay straight even if she’s not resting against anything, her long legs are elegantly crossed by the ankle and one of her arms is wrapped around his shoulder. You recognize the person in front of them, Mr. Kim Doyoung, a math professor, and you question how they know each other but it gets swiped from your mind quickly.

You hate how close they are. Their touches so subtle and yet so loud making it feel like they’re rubbing it in your face. You hate how people look at them, with so much awe and affection, you feel like only you can look at them like that. And you feel stupid, it is stupid.

But then it happens again, this time it’s Mr. Suh the one looking at you. All the anger and jealousy fly away. Thousands of eyes on them, and he’s still looking at you. His wife is in his arms, and he’s still looking at you. Your father is at your side, and he’s still looking at you.

You gulp, shifting on the spot to try to get comfortable and stop the painful throbbing between your legs, but it’s impossible.

Mr. Suh’s lips flicker in a small smirk, and then his brow rises, there’s also a small raise of the cup he’s holding, and you immediately turn around, just to make sure your father is not looking. You can’t believe he’s so bold, flirting —or whatever he is doing— not only in a full room but with your dad by your side.

You should hate it, you should leave, maybe even confront him, but you don’t. You’re actually quite ashamed the whole thing turns you on. It’s hot, and taboo, and taboo but hot. And come on, you’ve been subtly flirting with a married couple, this shouldn’t be the worst thing, but it feels like it. Because your father worships them, everybody in that room praises them, wants to be like them, and thinks they only have eyes for each other, but they don’t, even if it’s only a naughty game, their eyes are on you.

It’s you.

Their eyes skim around the room playing hide and seek with yours. Their hands tickle your skin in secret. Their bodies speak to you.

The whole room fades in the background, all the tension, all the problems, gone.

It��s only you and them.

Eventually, you start spending more and more time at their place. You tell yourself it’s because they’re easygoing and you can easily escape from your house —to be more precise, from your father. But the truth is, you’re starting to enjoy them more and more.

You still feel out of place sometimes, but it quickly fades away when they notice their conversation push you out by quickly pulling you back in, making light jokes you can understand, or asking about your day. You realize Mrs. Taylor tends to pick up on you quicker than Mr. Suh, while he prefers to ease you with tender touches, and you wonder if he knows the effect they have on you.

You still don’t open up to them much, fearing that if they discovered more, they’d quickly stop giving you attention.

Attention.

That’s another thing you enjoy about being with them. You feel seen. Even if their chemistry is over the roof, they never leave you out, you’re not a tapestry with them. They listen to you, even if you don’t say much, even if you stumble on your words and only give them a small peek. They look at you with sweet smiles on their faces and hum interested, holding conversation with ease.

And shamefully, the thing you love the most, they pamper you. It’s not like you’re poor —even if you have decided to don’t ask for money from your father, some privileges from your wealthy family come anyway— but they still spoil you. Expensive dinners in places you honestly never even wanted to set foot inside. Expensive clothes you doubt you even have the occasion to wear. They even gifted you a Cartier necklace that you keep stored away as your most treasured possession.

But their attentions aren’t only economical, they spoil you with homemade dinners at their place, movie night on their couch, and something more…

You lost count by now of how many times they get you alone and flirt with you, teasing you, watching you get flustered, chuckling at the way your breath falters when their fingers brush your skin or hair. It’s like a dirty game, you are their dirty game. But you don’t hate it. You know they both know what they’re doing, but you love this secrecy, the way you’re their trophy in plain sight and yet a dirty secret they have to hide from each other. It makes you feel wanted, desperately wanted.

And soon enough, you find yourself playing that game, too.

You wear your best outfits when you pass by the University, skin-tight skirts or pants, and just as skimpy blouses or tops with the excuse to borrow books from the library and say hi. Your lips are tinted red for Mr. Suh when he asks you if you want to pass in his office to help him with some lectures, and brown for Mrs. Suh when you casually pass by her firm for lunch or after work. Your hair is always in different hairstyles until you start to stick with the ones you see they like the most. And slowly, you gain some confidence to flirt back.

Your remarks are subtle, and your gaze shies away when they hold eye contact and only giggle or smirk teasingly. But it’s something.

Or so you think.

One second, you’re confident, and the other you feel like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. You start wondering if you’re pathetic in their eyes and are nothing more but a plaything for them to toy with and discharge when they’ll get tired of you. But nobody ever complimented you this much, calling you beautiful, caressing your face, loving the outfits you put together, and, most importantly, didn’t make you feel dumb. So it feels impossible to pull away from them. Even when your father starts getting mad at you about it.

He’s not dumb, and he has seen the way you and Mr. Suh sit in a corner and talk, he has seen that he greets you before anybody else —even before him— and he doesn’t like it.

“Johnny and Aaliyah have a beautiful relationship,” he starts, scolding you, “don’t try to screw it up, you’re not half of her worth.”

And that’s the first time you cry at night about it. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t help but question why they would choose you. Even if it’s just a game, even if it means nothing, you can’t find a reason why. You don’t know who started this first, but it’s not like it would be any different, they’re both hot, smart, talented and successful, and your father is right, you’re not half of her, or his, worth.

Yet, you can’t let it go.

If you know their townhouse by heart, you can’t say the same for their holiday house. It’s your first time being there after they invited you to their getaway weekend. You didn’t hesitate to say yes, pack your best things and leave.

You didn’t want to wander around but they left you all alone and didn’t show much of the house, so you took this opportunity to see a bit more.

The place is big; in the spacious hall, you’re met with the stairs once you enter, the big living room and on the right there’s the kitchen with a grand island in the middle and the table in front of the wide window. Farther down the corridor there’s a small bathroom and a room you couldn’t open. You’d like to go outside in the garden and chill next to the pool or under the porch, but it’s like upstairs is calling you.

On the first floor, there are the bedrooms and a studio. Your room —well, the guest room— is at the end of the corridor with a big bathroom next to it, while their room is at the end of the stairs, or so you guess.

You don’t want to pry, but curiosity’s got the best of you, especially after trying to open that room downstairs that won’t open. But you know you don’t want to find the keys to that room when you enter their bedroom —yes, you do, but that’s not the main thing.

Your lips part when you enter. It’s bigger than yours, with white walls and wide windows that let the light shine in making it seem even bigger. The big bed is against the wall that faces the door, and right next to the windows, there’s a small sitting room with a two-seat couch and two armchairs.

You should stop and don’t step further but you don’t listen to your brain.

On the wall in front of the bed, there’s a fireplace and on top of it there’s a television that takes half of the wall. At the sides, there are recessed shelves in the wall with books and elegant boxes, a lamp in front of it, and a lounge chair.

There are other lamps, all seem to be design pieces. Two long bedside tables that seem to be vanity desks of marble black. Some beautiful paintings are on the walls and you frown when you can’t recognize the artist, but they picture women and nature and you find them mesmerizing.

Then your eyes are caught by a rectangular red box placed against the wall at the side of the bed, it’s bigger than the bench at the end of the bed, and something about it screams at you to open it.

You shouldn’t, you feel like you’re invading their privacy —and well, you are— but you don’t stop.

You kneel in front of it, and a part of you hopes it’s locked somehow so that you can walk out of there and pretend nothing happened. But there’s no lock or key, you just have to lift the lid to see what’s inside.

Your lips part and a gasp comes out of your mouth when your eyes see what’s inside. You freeze. Close it and leave. Your brain screams, but you’re stuck, eyes blinking as you try to make sure you’re not making it all up.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hand falling from the lid to shakily touch what’s inside. There are other boxes but, for now, you don’t care to open them and only grab what you can see. Handcuffs, blindfolds, what seem to be whips but they all have different shapes and you don’t get the differences, ropes and other items you can’t name. The closed boxes have labels on them, lingerie, anal, vibrators, and dildos.

Your hands grab one, opening it, inspecting what’s inside with surprise and curiosity, and then another, and another. To be honest, you don’t know why you are so shocked, you own some toys —a vibrator and a small dildo— but you’ve seen much more than that, and it shouldn’t be surprising that a couple like the Suhs have freaky, kinky sex. Yet, it’s overwhelming you.

You are so caught up looking into the box that you don’t hear the door open and Aaliyah stand behind you with just a rope wrapped around her body.

“Looking for something?”

One of the boxes falls from your hand when Mr. Suh’s voice resonates in the room and you jump around in fear.

You mumble no sense, starting to panic while your eyes dart around the room for an escape. There would be many, the room is all windows and you could easily jump off the balcony to put an end to how embarrassed you feel right now, but you can’t.

Their gazes are piercing you and pinning you down against the floor and a feeble “I’m sorry,” is all you can say before your throat goes completely dry.

They snicker, starting to walk over you and you take a step back, but almost fall into the box. You don’t, not because your brain started to work again, but because Mrs. Suh has her arms wrapped around you to keep you from being bent in half into that.

“Careful, you don’t want to hurt yourself,” she says, a veil of genuine concern and something else, a lot of something else, that you can’t decipher.

“I told you she was curious,” Johnny says, talking to her once she lets you go after she makes sure you can stand on your feet.

“I — I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking down and torturing your hands, but the toys abandoned on the floor only make you look outside. “I thought you were out.”

“I was,” Johnny says, “went buy something sweet for you. But it looks like you’ll get something sweeter tonight.”

Your brain panics, trying to assimilate everything they said to you. “You — you were home the entire time?”

She smirks. “Didn’t hear the water running?”

You sigh defeated, pressing your lips together and shaking your head.

Johnny chuckles before kneeling and talking to you again, “You’re lucky we didn’t want to use these on you tonight, I’m not really in the mood to clean them all up,” he says as he puts the dildos back in the box and set it aside, outside of the container so he remembers to clean them.

“On — on me?” You mumble still struggling to breathe.

Aaliyah hums. “All this teasing has to go somewhere, right?”

“I — I…” You — You… you wished this so much that now that is happening you don’t know how to feel anymore.

“You don’t want us?” Johnny asks with genuine care and your eyes widen, terrified they will get the wrong idea.

“No, I do, I do, but I don’t want to — I… I promise I’m not weird, I don’t even know why I came here, or why I opened that, it’s just so eye-catching, it’s red and nothing in this room is red, and…”

Your rant gets interrupted by two lips on yours. You don’t know who it is at first, eyes closed and brain and heart going off like sirens, running around with their non-existent hands in the air. But then an arm wraps around you and pulls you close, and you realize it’s her. It’s her soft yet firm touch, it’s her body against yours.

And then you’re trapped again, Johnny is behind you, and you feel small and powerless.

“We’re not mad at you, honey,” he says, fingers running against your neck as he moves your hair back, “we’re kinda glad you snooped around, we weren’t really sure how to initiate this.”

“Oh,” you gasp. “But I’m not weird, I’m not a stalker, I promise.”

“We know,” she stops you again, chuckling, “maybe you wanted to get caught. Johnny called your name when he was downstairs, you didn’t hear him?”

Your lips spread partially as you try to remember but you’re sure you didn’t hear his voice or the shower. “No, I… I think I was too caught in… into… well…”

They snicker.

“Naughty girl,” she mocks, gently cupping your chin. “Found something interesting?”

“Uhm, no…”

“No?” Johnny asks and you feel something against your bare thighs —wearing shorts was a bad idea. It has fringes and it tickles. “Not even this?”

You look down and see the black flogger in his hands and you gulp. “I never tried any of these before… I’m not even sure how some of these things can bring pleasure.”

Aaliyah chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, babydoll, you’d be surprised.”

“You want to tie me?” You ask innocently and they laugh.

“Nah, seems a bit cruel for our first time, don’t you think?” Johnny says, hands wrapping around your stomach.

First time? There will be another one? You think but you don’t ask. You probably already look depraved enough to their eyes, you don’t want to make it worse.

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

“Hesitating?” She questions, caressing your cheek to soothe you but her touch only makes your body buzz in excitation.

“No, I still don’t get why you would want me,” you whisper, diverting your gaze.

“Have you taken a look in the mirror?” He says, big hands caressing your waist and lips brushing against your neck.

You shake your head. “I still think I don’t fit between you…”

She grabs your chin, lifting your head. “Then why don’t you stop thinking tonight, mhh? We’ll give you a reason to believe why you do fit, instead?” Her hands grab yours and she places them on the tie of her robe, if your fingers move and you let it fall to the ground the whole night will bloom. The consequences could be tragic, tomorrow could be the worst day of your life, but tonight might be the best one.

You don’t hesitate anymore; you’re curious, you’re needy, and you badly want to be pressed between them and feel their skin against yours, so your fingers dance on the tie and pull the robe open.

Your lips part to let out a gasp when her naked body unreveals to your eyes, and you get lost in it. Your eyes move up and down, taking in her perky, round boobs, her darker nipples hardening at the cool air of the room, and then they go down, to her toned stomach you have already seen before until they reach her soft hips, you bite your lips when your eyes fall between her legs, perfectly trimmed black hair covering her most intimate part, and lastly on her soft thighs and long legs.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out, feeling you could collapse just from the view, and you start wondering if you can take Johnny too.

Her lips lift in a smile and her hands wander on your body where her husband’s hands are leaving your body untouched. You press your lips together to don’t moan already, it would be so humiliating to do so, but it’s almost as if they know.

“Don’t hold back,” Johnny whispers against your ear, shivers running down your spine. “We take pride in what we do, and want to hear you.”

You hum, nodding fast before you feel dizzy when he pushes your shorts down, his body lowering to accompany them on the floor, his hot breath hitting your exposed skin before his lips leave kisses on your thighs and ass.

Aaliyah is busy taking care of your top, lifting your arms to reveal your bare chest. Your first instinct is to cover yourself, but she stops you with a stern look and a “Don’t.” Her voice is sultry, sweet like honey and intoxicating, and you can only obey. “It’s not fair when I’m so bare at your eyes, don’t you think so?”

“Yes,” you manage to breathe out, and then turn your head to stare at Johnny, the only one who’s completely covered. You don’t say anything, but your eyes speak louder than any word. You’re basically imploring him to show himself to you, your eagerness is burning out of you, yet he mocks you with a smirk and then a scoff.

“Later, honey,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t be greedy. Too much on your plate, then you can’t chew.”

His wife snickers, pushing him back from you. “Follow me,” she says, giving you a reassuring smile before turning around and walking toward the bed.

You hesitate, looking back at Johnny, asking his permission, and when he nods, you still feel stuck there. You need a light push from him to start moving your feet and follow her on the Wyoming king bed.

“I didn’t think you would be so shy, doll,” she points out, watching you hesitantly climb on the bed and crawl to her.

“She’s not,” Johnny replies for you, “she’s just playing with us.”

You stop in your tracks, looking back at him, mumbling to come up with a reply. But you stop thinking when her chest presses against your back and she turns your head to kiss you. Her hand reaches out to call Johnny to join you, but you don’t think about him until you feel the bed bend with his weight and then his hands on your thighs.

“Or maybe she just needs to ease into us,” she suggests. You catch she’s telling him something, it’s a quick conversation with eyes and mouthed words; you don’t get it, but you don’t care to get it.

You trust them. And you like the thrill of being at their mercy with no idea of what they truly want to do with you.

So, you let them. You let them move you, shifting around you as their hands gently push you flat against the bed and their lips start tracing your shivering skin. You hate that Johnny is still dressed but that thought quickly leaves your mind —or better, doesn’t annoy you that much anymore— when his fingers hook on the band of your panties and pull them off.

You squirm, hiding your face against Aaliyah’s arms but they’re quick at reassuring you.

“Stop hiding away,” Johnny says, “you’re beautiful, honey.”

But your confidence it’s not the problem. You’ve never been the centre of attention, you never had two pairs of eyes, lips, and hands on you. You don’t know how to cope with all of this.

You gasp when her lips wrap around your hard nipple and she starts sucking. And you can’t control your hips when his hands brush against the apex of your thighs before lingering over your sensitive pussy.

“Can I taste you?” Johnny asks, softly caressing your skin.

“Yes, you can.” You’re already short on air as you watch him lower his head, his eyes intensely staring straight into yours, making you feel so small and yet so safe.

Your legs go weak as soon as his plump lips touch your sensitive clit, he’s only leaving delicate kisses on you and small kitten licks but that’s not the only stimulation you’re receiving, Aaliyah’s mouth and fingers lick and pinch on your sensitive nipples are not helping you calm down.

“Oh my god,” you curse, rolling your head back when he starts eating you out for real. Tongue working with precision from your leaking slit to your throbbing clit, not leaving a patch untouched. His hold on you is firm, big hands keeping you spread, massaging your skin to help you relax even more, but with no room for movement.

“Look at you,” she teases, pulling away from your boob to pay attention to your face, “so wrecked and we barely even started. You love the way my husband is eating you out?”

Your eyes open to meet hers, and you regret it right away, the intensity of her gaze making you feel something you’ve never felt before. Sure, she carried around an intimidating vibe, but that kind of aura disappeared as the months passed and you grew closer, but this, this is different. She is dominant and firm, yet somehow you can always find that veil of care that characterized her.

You try to answer, afraid not receiving a verbal response will disappoint her, but your throat lets out an embarrassing whimper followed by a broken moan.

She snickers, shaking her head, and caressing your cheeks so gently it feels like she’s mocking you. “I know, doll, I know, he’s good with his mouth.”

You cry out in embarrassment but your head rolls back when Johnny sucks harshly on your clit and his hands move down to keep your pussy spread.

“Taste so good,” he mumbles pressed against your skin, the vibrations driving you insane. “So wet for us, you wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Our desperate toy, we made you wait for so long.”

You’d love to scream that yes, this took too long, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You somehow find the strength to look up, much with the help of Aaliyah who places an arm under your head for support, and you feel your stomach tighten up at the view.

Johnny looks like a starving man, messily lapping at your aching pussy, devouring you with his face buried between your legs, nose pressed against your mound. He’s so caught up he probably doesn’t even realize he tugs you closer when his arms wrap around your thighs.

Your eyes shut down and for a moment the image of the usual him crosses your mind. There’s nothing of the composed, elegant, and polite man you know, that man that your father loves so much, the same man that if he saw him right now, would have a heart attack. But you quickly push him out of your mind. You have no other choice when Aaliyah’s fingers add to the mess between your legs, and you bite your lips so hard you almost bleed.

“Too much,” you cry out, looking for mercy in her eyes when she draws them from her husband and your cunt to your face.

“Too much?” She coos with a condescending tone. “You’re bucking your hips against his face and want me to believe it’s too much?”

You groan loudly, giving up as your head falls against the mattress again. Her arm is not there anymore as she’s using it to support her body to tease you, and your neck has no more strength to watch him have the time of his life between your thighs.

But you’re not the only one groaning; Johnny’s moaning too, getting drunk in your juices and falling into madness as he tries to ease the painful boner in his tight jeans, grinding against the mattress for comfort.

“You’re so hot you’re making him hump the mattress, babydoll,” she points out. “That’s the effect you have on him. Still doubt you’re not enough?”

You don’t, not right now, you don’t want to think about it. Still, you shake your head, earning a soft, pleased smile and a “Good girl.”

It makes your stomach tighten, your toes curl, and your hands clench around the sheets. “Johnny,” you whisper, keeping your mouth parted as you try to let more air in, it’s a beg for release but you can’t find the words to let it all out.

The way you moan his name, so shyly, so weakly, a bit for the pleasure, a bit because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you —God if he finds it endearing the way you still call them Mr. and Mrs. Suh sometimes— makes his heart pound and his dick ache. You’re so fragile in their hands, right now, in his. He had wished to have you like this for so long; since his wife first brought you up and he started to look at you in a different light. Every time you spoke your mind during dinners, coming up with something that was too smart for your father to comprehend until he proposed the same point of view, only changing a few things. You deserved to be lifted on the table and eaten out like this. And the more you two talked, or your hands brushed timidly, the more he felt addicted. He couldn’t stop thinking of you.

And that was crazy, because the only woman he ever had was his wife, and never he would’ve imagined he could feel so attracted to someone that wasn’t her. And yet, the three of you are here, in the same bed, in the same mess.

When you call out his name again, he snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at you, the eye contact makes your head spin and you hold onto Aaliyah’s wrists. You feel like the orgasm will make you fly away, but before that, Johnny will kill you with just one look.

“Please,” you cry out, begging to be spared, or maybe not, maybe begging to be ended, begging for the release, begging to reach the best orgasm of your life.

“Let go, honey, come in my mouth,” his deep, sultry voice is the final strike that sends you over the edge. Body convulsing in his hold as he keeps you down and keeps sucking and licking you, eagerly swallowing your sweet cum, and moaning vulgarly against your burning hot skin.

You feel dizzy and high, and your body slumps against the soft mattress when your first orgasm ends.

“Want to see you,” you cry out, trying to lift your body and reach for him, but your limbs quickly give up.

Aaliyah chuckles, and you turn to face her. “We need to work on your stamina.”

You pout as you justify yourself, “It was too good, and I haven’t come like this in — well, never.”

Johnny chuckles, smirking proudly before he stands up at the edge of the bed. “Want to see me, honey?”

You nod with enthusiasm, biting your lips as your heart thuds in excitement. Your eyes lock with his fingers that are moving way too slow on their way to unbutton the shirt. But after what feels like an eternity, the blouse meets the floor, leaving uncovered his toned chest, arms and beautiful tattoos adorning the skin of his shoulder. But it’s not like you haven’t seen that before.

“What?” You scream annoyed when she covers your view, standing on her knees between you and her husband, giggling at your disappointment.

“He needs a hand, baby,” she chuckles and you huff again. Of course, they would fuck with you some more.

Every sound drives you more insane; you bite the inside of your cheek when you hear the belt open, and your heels tap against the mattress when the zip comes down, lastly, you groan in disbelief when you hear his pants and belt hit the floor.

“Please,” you whine, closed fists slapping against the bed.

“Fine, greedy little thing,” Johnny chuckles, and so does she as they finally give you what you want.

Your eyes and lips widen, and you gulp. “Oh… wow…”

They laugh, it’s a soft sound that creates a beautiful harmony, and even if they’re making fun of you, it warms your heart. The next thing they do is crawl to you to kiss you.

It starts with a soft peck on your lips, their mouths on yours meeting almost shyly, and then it gets heated, teeth and tongue clashing together as all of you try to have a taste of each other.

“Don’t worry, you can take it,” she reassures, kissing your lips, hands travelling down your stomach until it reaches your throbbing clit and starts moving in circles, making you gasp against their lips.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumble, glossy eyes looking into his first and then moving to hers. “Maybe you should.”

“Oh, I do, trust me,” she replies, smirking before kissing your neck.

“Tonight is about you,” Johnny reminds you, doing the same as she’s doing but on the other side. “It will fit.”

“Mhh,” you mumble, feeling weak and overwhelmed.

“Let me make sure it will fit,” she sings happily, now taking the spot between your legs.

You moan against Johnny’s mouth when her finger pushes inside you, humming in delight as she feels how wet you are. You can’t see her, eyes closed as you get lost in the kiss, but just her presence is enough to make you tremble.

“Look at you, it’s so easy to turn you into a puddle,” she teases, watching as you can barely kiss Johnny back. Something about the kiss you and her husband are sharing makes her head spin. There’s something about you, something new, something they’ve never had before. You’re so delicate, like a flower, and your petals fall perfectly between them. Just like right now, she’s sure there’s nothing in your brain, and yet your lips follow Johnny’s, messily meeting him in that slow, yet passionate kiss.

Your body reacts so nicely to their hands running on your skin, cupping and groping at your soft boobs to stimulate you everywhere as she works the second finger inside of you. They are experts at what they’re doing, sending shivers all over your body and pushing you further down into that haze.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so eager to feel Johnny inside, aren’t you?”

You mumble a reply as you finally pull away from Johnny, a thread of spit still connecting your lips, but you don’t notice until he breaks it off. “Want to feel him.”

They snicker, and then their lips are on you; Johnny’s busy leaving pecks on your neck before he pays attention to your nipples, and Aaliyah is focused on kissing your inner thigh and tummy as her fingers still curl inside of you.

“I don’t think you’re ready, yet, pretty girl,” she hums, curling the tips up and hitting your sensitive spot. That action makes your hips buck from the mattress and causes a louder moan to slip through your tortured plump lips. “So wet, dripping all over my fingers. I bet you taste so good, maybe I’ll get a taste one day, uhm?”

You squeeze your eyes, uselessly trying to calm your breath, it’s pathetic how fast your chest is moving in erratic movements, and how your hips squirm to search for more, even if one of their hands is on your stomach to keep you in place. You don’t reply but you internally scream that yes, you want her. You want to feel her soft, full lips on you, you wonder if she’s eager like Johnny or more meticolous, if she moans loudly or keeps quiet. You don’t know, but the mere idea makes a growl roll from your lips.

“She’s good with her fingers, isn’t she?” Johnny’s deep voice hits your ear, and you feel your body melt. Your head moves quickly to agree as you turn to the side to face him. He’s staring at you with a sly smirk on his face and before you can stop him, you feel his long fingers on your clit. You bite back a moan and try to plead with your eyes but it’s useless. Neither of them wants to stop.

“What, princess? We have to make sure you’re ready to take my dick,” he whispers, shushing your senseless sounds with a kiss.

You bite his lips by mistake when she pushes a third finger inside, eyes wide both in surprise and in a silent apology to Johnny.

“Too much,” you cry out.

But she tsks, shaking her head. “You have to be all stretched out for him, doll. You don’t want to break, do you?”

You shake your head before it rolls back, and your face contorts more. You don’t want to break but you feel like you might explode from this alone. She’s incredibly skilled in what she’s doing, it’s like her fingers are pumping and curling following the rhythm of a melody only she can hear, they hit you deep and fast, not giving you time to recover from each profound push.

“Just a few pumps and then he’ll fuck you exactly like you want,” she encourages you, her dark brown eyes looking softly at you, curling up in a sweet smile.

It takes you less than a few pumps to come undone, you don’t even see the orgasm coming when it washes over you, knocking air out of your lungs. It’s her two fingers pumping into you, curling and scissoring, after she pulled the third out to move faster, it’s Johnny’s thumb on your clit, flicking it swiftly, and his lips on your nipple, sucking harshly. But mostly, it’s them, the warmth of their bodies wrapping around you, intoxicating you like a drug that takes its sweet time to kick in.

Your body shakes, trapped between the mattress and their big bodies, and you feel like the room is spinning around you.

“You come so easily,” she mocks, pulling her fingers out once she’s sure you’re done, and slapping your clit, making you hiss.

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

“Naughty girl,” Johnny scoffs, pulling away from you and you whine when their hot bodies are not on you anymore.

You sigh, thinking since when you’re so pathetic and needy? You truly can’t last more than ten seconds without having them all over you?

“If you were ours that wouldn’t have gone unpunished,” he says, settling between your legs and spreading them apart. You barely noticed them moving around, already too far gone to be aware of what is going on around you. His intense gaze makes you shiver and more cum oozes out of your already messy, wet cunt. Johnny takes a deep breath, getting lost in the sight of you, your face is wrecked, your lips parted, your eyes watery, your boobs are heaving, and your hips are moving around, pleading him to fuck you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, honey.”

The compliment makes your heart swell and you weakly smile back at him.

“Come on, fuck her already,” Aaliyah encourages him, pushing his hips closer as she stands at his side, “she deserves it.”

You gasp under your breath when his hands wrap around the back of your knees and, with a strong tug, he pulls your body against his, the tip of his dick slapping against your core. He moves one hand down to grab the base and pushes his cock against your slit, it feels like forever as he rubs his leaking tip against your clit and every now and then pushes against your opening that’s fluttering, begging him to fill you up already.

“Johnny,” Aaliyah scolds sternly, looking at him up and down, and her dominance at the moment makes you shiver and moan, shamelessly. You try to close your legs to hide the effect it had on you but they both push them open, and somehow, the way they’re not paying attention to you, eyes locked into each others, and still have you under control, makes you whine even louder. “Stop teasing her,” she orders, cupping his chin and pulling him closer. “Don’t you see how badly she wants you? Dripping on the sheets like a kitten in heat?”

You frown at her comment even if well, she’s right. You’re sure you’ve never been this wet your entire life.

“As you wish, milady,” he jokes and in a second, he’s inside of you.

“Fuck,” you scream at the stretch, even if he didn’t bottom in, you still feel like you can barely breathe. “Oh, shit.”

“Damn, honey, I’m not even halfway in,” he comments, stopping and looking at you with a worried face.

“No, I’m fine, I was — too caught up,” too caught up in you two and I barely remember my name.

Aaliyah snickers, shaking her head. “You’re so cute, doll,” she hums, caressing your thigh, “just relax and take him all, uhm? He’s going to fuck you so well,” she says before addressing her husband, “right, Johnny?”

Johnny nods, smirking playfully before sinking further until his entire length is in.

Your head rolls back while pleasure dissipates inside your body, he fills you perfectly, stretching you so nicely. You feared it was going to be more painful, but it feels so good, and the pairs of hands soothing your skin are helping you calm down.

Johnny pulls you closer, beginning to slowly move his hips, hissing under his breath while your walls flutter around him so nicely, your wet, warm hole welcoming him with ease now that you’re not tense anymore.

And then it happens, for the first time that night, they kiss. You bite your lips with force as your eyes bore holes in them. Their lips move on their own, doing what they have been doing for a life now, and their hands pull each other close. You’ve seen them in similar circumstances before, but this, this, is different. Johnny is kissing his wife while he’s buried deep inside of you, one hand on the small of her back, the other keeping you spread, her hand tangled in his long, brown locks and the other intertwined with yours at your side.

Everything is oddly romantic and erotic at the same time. Everything makes perfect sense and no sense at all. But it’s fine. Tonight, you don’t want to think, you don’t want to worry, you want to roll around in this mess of limbs and skin and feel. Feel alive and loved. Even if it might be an illusion.

“Fuck, baby,” they moan when they pull apart, giggling at the way they’re in sinch even if for different things. Their eyes are on you again and while Johnny praises how good you feel, she praises how well you’re taking him.

And your heart jumps around while a dumb, drunk-in-love smile plasters on your face. But it swiftly drops when she moves up again to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. You try to study his expression, something flickers in his eyes, and they darken even more, you even feel his dick twitch inside of you, but you can’t make out anything of what she says.

Then Johnny’s hips come to an alt, and your throat dries.

“We were thinking you got to come two times already,” he starts, licking his lips, “and while I’m having fun with you, you will agree we kinda neglected Aaliyah, right?”

You nod quickly, eyes moving between the couple in swift motions.

“So, what do you think about turning around and eating her out while I keep fucking you?”

It’s like your brain sparks up and shuts down at the same time at his words. You nod eagerly, mumbling ‘yes’ while a small, fucked out smile creeps on your face.

“You want me, baby?” She asks, voice slurring out of her lips like velvet.

“Yes, please, want you so bad,” you reply, body buzzing in excitement as you take her body in.

You don’t have time to complain when Johnny pulls out of you, he swiftly turns you around, strong arms moving you as if you’re nothing for him, and given all the weights he lifts at the gym, it is nothing. Your body moves on its own, ass perking up while your face lowers down, close to the soft, perfumed sheets but not enough that you can’t use your lips.

And there she is, resting against the headboard with her legs spread right in front of your face. Her pussy’s dripping, clit throbbing in anticipation, and you envy how good she has been to hold it back for so long.

And even if your eyes are curious and sparkle with lust, she can sense your hesitation. “Come on, don’t be shy,” she encourages you, one hand gently cupping the back of your head, massaging your scalp, “don’t tell me it’s your first time.”

Well… not exactly, but you weren’t a pro at this either.

“Oh, you’re always on the receiving end?” She snickers, looking down at you. Eyes piercing you, pinning you down in your place. She has this thing, it’s like magic, one look and you’re right where she wants you, how she wants you.

“Mostly…” you admit shyly, looking down again.

“Well, time to change that,” she says before pushing you against her pussy.

Your lips move shily at first, it’s almost as if you’re testing the ground. Kitten licks are all you give her, licking up her sweet cum while your nose rubs against her clit. You breathe deep, getting lost in her aroma.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she praises, hand still caressing you but not pressing you down. If it was somebody else —even Johnny— she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, but with you, she wants to take it slow and guide you through it.

You moan against her when Johnny pushes in again, this time he doesn’t wait before his hips start slamming against you, but he’s not going too fast. And the pleasure he’s fucking into you urges you to do better. You try to do what Johnny did to you before and every other person you’ve been with, and be better than the other times you’ve eaten pussy before.

“Yes, pretty girl, focus on the clit,” she instructs you, moving her hand down to caress your neck, and when you comply, a deep guttural moan rips from her throat. She hums in delight and your heart flips with pride. “Use your tongue.”

You hesitately stick your pink muscle out and poke it at her entrance but she stops you with a click of her tongue, “No, doll, up and down, come on, you can do it.” When your tongue starts doing that, licking her from the bottom of her entrance to the top, flicking your tip right under the hood of her clit, her legs shake and she pushes down a hiss. “So, so good, babydoll.”

“Shit, you’re so hot,” Johnny moans behind you, his hands holding tightly to your waist as he fucks you on his dick. He never imagined he’d be so turned on by this, but fuck, this is the dream. Seeing his wife’s face while you pleasure her, hearing her moan because of somebody else mouth, especially yours, makes him feel something he never felt before.

“You’re so good, doll. Such a fast learner, aren’t you? So eager to please us. So eager to be a good girl for us,” she moans, her fingers inevitably clenching around the roots of your hair when you suck hard on her clit. You seem to have found your scheme, keeping her pussy spread while your tongue runs on her labia and then your lips wrap around her clit, swift flicks of your tongue and shy hands testing what’s better.

You nod against her without pulling away, you could, but you don’t want to. You want to get drunk in her juices, you want to feel her thighs clench around your head —even if she’s trying hard not to do so— you want to hear her deep, intoxicating moans, you want her to pull your hair harder.

“Yes, you are,” she coos, meeting your half-lidded eyes, pushing down a guttural moan when a lonely tear rolls down your cheek, “you’re such a greedy little thing. One person it’s not enough for you, you need more. Is this enough or do you need even more, ugh? Bet you’d love it if we both fucked you at the same time.” Her condescending tone sends your brain into a spiral, you feel empty and yet overflowing, but you can’t reply. Johnny’s fucking you mercilessly now, big dick hitting you deep, striking all the right spots, and even if you’re giving something to her, you have zero control. You’re at their mercy, small and powerless, flushed between their bodies as you somehow do something like a robot.

“Loving eating her pussy while I fuck you hard?” This time is Johnny the one teasing you, his voice deeper but he gives no sign of slowing down, even if the pleasure is getting to him, you know it from his grunts and the way his hips falter every now and then. “Bet it feels so good to be muddy in our hands and have no worries in the world, right? You’re perfect here, nobody to impress,” he moans, leaning closer, his lips brushing your ear while his body presses you closer against the bed, “no father to make happy. Just us. Honestly,” he groans, pulling back, squeezing your hips before driving all the way in with a decisive thrust, sending you forward, “he’d have a heart attack if he saw you like this.”

You whine, your laments muffled by Aaliyah’s body, and you feel like you could explode. Is this why you like being with them so much? Because the fact that they like you so much proves your father wrong? The very people that he worships are busy worshipping his daughter while he trashes her around. But you don’t want to think of him, one, it could ruin your orgasm, two, you have them, and that’s all that matters. And to be honest, you love being with them so much because they value you and appreciate you for who you truly are.

You pull away, letting your fingers take the place of your mouth, rubbing on her clit while you talk, “want you, want more, please.”

“More? What’s more than this?” Johnny asks, snickering.

“Sit on my face?” You ask shily while you look up at her, cum and spit dripping down your chin, eyes glossy with tears.

She loses herself in the sight of you. You’re perfect even if you look like a mess, even if your eyes roll back and your lips part open when Johnny hits your sweet spot another time. “Oh… let’s not pull your luck too much tonight, hum?”

“But I —”

“But you, nothing,” she shushes you up, two fingers on your mouth. “You’re being so good, giving me pleasure while you take him so well. Just keep going.” She’d love to sit on your face, only being able to watch your eyes slowly blank as her hips roll against you, while your pretty hands wrap around her thighs as it slowly gets harder to breathe, but you’re not ready for that, yet.

You give up, starting where you stopped. But soon enough you’re whining again, “No, please, please, Sir,” you cry out, looking back to meet Johnny’s gaze for a split second.

He seems a bit startled by the way you address him, but he quickly shakes the surprise off to tease you with a condescending tone. “What’s wrong, honey? I thought you wanted more?” The pout that accompanies his words makes your stomach twist in a knot. You did want more, but the more was being smashed underneath them, not having his skilled fingers rub quick circles on your over-sensitive clit.

“I — I don’t want to come again,” you cry out.

“Oh, you won’t,” she speaks instead. “Don’t get too greedy and take it,” she orders, cupping your chin before pushing you between her legs again. Her patience could only last this long before she would snap.

“Right, because you can take it, right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head to get a peak of your flustered face. You’re burning up, sweat pearling your skin, the shorter hair sticking to your forehead, eyes blinking out tears of pleasure, and body squirming while you try so hard to keep focus on the only thing you have to do.

You doubt you can, but you still nod, moans getting choked up in your throat and against her cunt as you try to use your tongue and mouth the best you can even if control is slipping out of you more and more.

Fighting the orgasm is probably worse than keeping focus. Your stomach is upside down, and you feel all your nerves tense up, every single touch makes you jolt up and you know your throat will be sore by the end of the night for all the moans you’re letting out.

And you slip, eyes closing and mouth getting lazy as your body limply gets slammed between them.

“Hey,” you’re startled when her palm meets your face in quick, light slaps to wake you up, “don’t you fucking dare,” it’s the only warning that slips from her mouth, so sternly it should make you obey on the spot, but it only makes it harder for you to hold back. “Put that mouth to good use, come on.”

You don’t have a choice —not that you would want to do anything else— when she forces your face down again, this time grinding her hips against you to help you out, or honestly, to fuck herself against you because you’re not doing so much anymore.

She scoffs, “You’re being so good for Johnny, bet your pussy is sucking him in so well, dripping down to his balls and clenching tight, you can’t do one thing for me?”

You gasp for air when she yanks you back by the end of your hair, letting you breathe again, watching the tears fall freely from your pretty eyes. Your lashes are clumped together, and some mascara stained your cheeks; so, so pretty, she could stare at you forever.

“I can. I — I promise, I’ll be your good girl, I’ll give you what you want, fuck,” you mumble, words tangling on your tongue.

You’re so fucked out that spit is dripping down your chin, mixing with her cum, and she can’t fight the urge to smear it on your face.

Aaliyah could come by that sight only. To think when she first saw you were shily standing in a corner, trying to have less attention possible on you, stuttering your words at the speech your father made you hold, and almost fell down the stage. And now, you’re a mess in their bed, far away from home after you followed them blindly.

“Good, then use your fingers, come on,” she orders, biting her lips as you struggle to push your body up to finger her. This is exciting, with Johnny it had always been a fight for dominance, but with you, everything works perfectly, you fit between them with ease.

Johnny’s hands help you stand up, but he can’t deny how hot he finds the way you can’t control your body. He wishes he could see your face, you must be so pretty all messed up, but he’ll use his imagination.

“Come on, honey, fuck her, she took such good care of you,” Johnny encourages you, and that’s all you need to push two fingers inside of her. Her warm walls welcome you with ease, cum coating them until it drips down on your wrist.

Aaliyah’s face twists in an expression of pleasure as soon as you start curling your fingers. You’re definitely better with them than you are with your mouth, but it’s fine, there will be time to practice if you ever want to stick around.

“Good girl,” she praises, caressing your cheek gently before pulling you in a kiss. Doing so, Johnny slips out of you, and you whine at the loss, but soon enough he’s fucking into you again.

“Won’t — won’t last long,” you whimper, crying more as you feel heavier.

Johnny hums, pushing you down again and you lazily go back to lapping on her pussy while your fingers keep moving.

“Come here,” you hear him say, but he’s not talking to you. You can’t see, but you know they’re kissing because you feel smaller and more trapped as their bodies get closer, and then the wet sounds of their lips hit your ears. Their moans mix in their mouth, and you can feel the desperation they’re sharing as their teeth clash together.

You want to kiss them too, but you have other things to worry about, like the orgasm you can’t hold in anymore.

“Want to come, please,” you beg, tears adding to the mess between her legs as you try to gasp for more air.

They pull away from the kiss, bringing their attention to you another time.

“You want to come?” You nod swiftly. She’s sure you’re not doing it on purpose but the way your big eyes are looking up at her and your lips tremble, make her heart warm up. You’re so precious. “Then don’t stop fucking me,” she orders, voice low that causes your stomach to twist again. “Don’t stop being a perfect, little, mindless fuckdoll for us.”

Johnny growls, rolling his head back, “Fuck, stop talking to her like that, she’s squeezing me.”

Aaliyah chuckles darkly, sweetly mockingly caressing your wet cheeks. “You want me to stop talking to her because you can’t handle a sweet pussy sucking you in?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his head back, scoffing at her comment.

“It’s not my fault she likes it when I talk down to her,” she coos, looking at him but her words hit you deep. It’s so humiliating the way they’re talking about you as if you’re not here, and yet, it only makes you wetter. “I could do so much more, but I doubt she can take it.”

I can. You scream, but it stays inside your brain, no words can come out of your mouth anymore.

They both giggle at your broken moan that comes out as a reply.

“No thoughts left in that little mind of yours, uhm?” Johnny teases, his fingers playing with your nipples making you cry out more.

Your head is abandoned on her thigh, drool dripping out of the corner of your lips while your fingers pump in and out in tired, messy movements. You’re so far gone that she has to help you fuck her by guiding your wrist.

“Except how good it feels to be surrounded by us. You love it when we trap you between us and make you feel small, don’t you? Bet you’d love it even more if I fucked your mouth with a toy while he fucked your pussy, or maybe the other way around.”

You yelp when someone smacks your ass, you don’t care to figure out if it’s him or her. It doesn’t matter, it only adds to the pleasure and dizziness.

“Or maybe we could each take a hole and stuff you til you break,” Johnny giggles lowly. “Your tight ass and pussy spread by us.”

“Please,” you cry out. Please make me come and please do it. Please fuck me at the same time, from both ends and until I’m nothing between you. But it stays inside, they get it anyway, like they get all of you.

“C’mere,” Johnny chuckles as he manoeuvres you, lifting your body and pushing you closer to his wife. You’re kneeling now, body slumped against hers while he presses you flat, your fingers still moving inside of her while you moan in the crook of her neck. It feels warm, almost romantic, and you feel so small.

The hand that is not helping you fuck her, wraps around your waist and starts rubbing circles on your burning hot skin, meeting Johnny’s that doing the same.

“Look at you, doll, you’ve been so good. What do you say, John, should she come?” Aaliyah’s voice is particularly sweet, reaching your ear like a faint melody and you feel farther and farther from your body.

“I think she deserves it,” Johnny replies, kissing your neck to distract you from his hand slipping down to your clit.

Your teeth sink into her skin, making her hiss, not in pain but most in surprise, and your face wets even more while a loud sob rips from your throat.

“Come on, princess,” she whispers close to you, leaving pecks on top of your head, “be a good girl and come with us.”

You don’t let them tell you twice when their pace fastens and all the stimuli get to your head one last time. This orgasm is like an explosion that leaves you trembling between their bodies, whimpering and moaning as the violent waves shock you to the core.

“Fuck, so fucking tight,” Johnny murmurs under his breath, hips slamming messily against your ass as he chases his orgasm. He’s caught up in your face before his eyes fall on his wife’s pussy, you stopped fucking her and she’s trying to rub her fingers on her clit, if you weren’t so far gone, brain mush in your skull, she would’ve said something, but she knows is no use now.

You’re collapsed on her body when your eyes trail between her legs, watching in awe as Johnny’s fingers fuck her fast and his thumb rubs her clit as he keeps pouding into you. Their moans are louder as they approach their release and her head falls against the board of the bed while her hands clench around your waist to hold onto something.

And you come again. An unexpected fourth orgasm washes over you, ass arching up and nails sinking into her thigh as you feel as life is being sucked away from you, and that’s what pushes them over the edge, your soft, broken whimpers mixing with theirs and your low mumbles of their names, it’s not Mr. and Mrs. Suh, is Johnny and Aaliyah now, only for you.

More curses fill the air before everything comes to a stop, Johnny’s body falling on yours for a second before he forces himself to pull out and roll to the side.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here,” she whispers, soothing you as she pulls your body closer, hugging you and caressing your back and hair. You’re still shaking and crying, and your hands wrap quickly around her. “You’re fine, we’re here. It’s over.”

Soon after you feel Johnny’s hands too, and then his soothing words. “You’ve been so good, princess. Was it fun?”

His question is left unanswered, and they understand it will take you a while to start talking again. So they keep whispering sweet words to your ears while their hands calm you down with gentle touches. You don’t remember how long it takes before you fall into a deep slumber, but you know you feel a sense of peace you never felt before.

When you wake up, the clock hits midnight, you’re alone in the bed but you’re cleaned up and you’re dressed in a white shirt that reaches your thighs.

Somehow your legs carry your body out of the room and down the stairs where you take a sigh of relief seeing them laughing as they sit at the table. They’re dressed again, Johnny’s hair is brushed in its place, and her braids are pulled up in a bun again, they look as composed as usual but more familiar.

“Hey, you’re up?” Johnny is the first one who sees you and welcomes you with a sweet smile.

“We were starving. We wanted you to eat but you fell asleep, and for how intense it was we figured you were going to sleep until morning,” Aaliyah explains, moving a stool so you could sit between them, tapping on the seat to signal you to reach them.

You push your feet forward, legs wobbly and heart still racing, but this time is not the orgasm. You’re still lost in the haze, but now you’re fully aware of what happened, and you don’t know how to act in the aftermath.

“Are you alright? You stopped talking, it worried us a bit,” she says, lifting her hand to caress your nape after she tucked your hair behind your ear.

You nod, shoulders dropping as the tension disappears at her touch. “I’m fine. I guess it was a lot, it never happened before.”

Johnny comes back to you with a glass of water and some bowls with different food, leaving you a choice between fruits, something sweet, and something salty.

“Thanks,” you reply, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one go. “Honestly, I’m not really hungry,” you say, eyes diverting their gazes, there’s still a bit of worry behind them and you’re not used to people caring so much for you, especially after sex. You don’t think you ever saw a one-night-stand the morning after, but not even your exes cared much about how you felt after sex.

“No? Do you need something else?” Johnny asks, a caring tone filling his words, and the look in his eyes is different than all the other times before.

You look around, shaking your head, your throat is dry again and from the corner of your eyes, you see her filling the glass again. You smile shyly before drinking it. “I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” you confess, biting your lips and playing with the hem of the glass in your hands.

They smile, hands cupping yours before holding tight. “We had no intention of leaving you alone,” they say at the same time, making you smile.

“A bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Johnny jokes while Aaliyah leaves to put the food back in its place. You might be awake but it’s clear as daylight that you’re still tired and want to sleep.

“Mhh,” you mumble. Your eyes lift to look at Johnny and you smile. He looks beautiful, the faint silver light of the moonlight paiting his cheekbones and hair.

“And still not very talkative,” she adds when she comes back, a soft look in her eyes. “Come on, there’s no need to talk, let’s get you to bed.” She stretches a hand out and you quickly grab it, jumping off the chair but regretting it when your legs make it known they’re not back just yet.

You gasp when two arms wrap around you and lift you up, and soon you’re met with Johnny’s eyes. You smile at him before locking eyes with her who’s following behind and quickly is at your side.

“Thanks,” you whisper because he’s carrying you but mostly, for the night you spent. You decide you will worry tomorrow, for now, you feel full, they made you feel wanted, and dare to say, even loved. It’s all that matters.

“You have to be grateful, he stopped carrying me upstairs a long time ago,” she jokes and Johnny scoffs, “Liar.”

And soon the three of you are in the bed again, the dirty duvet is not on the mattress anymore and a thinner blanket covers you. You’re in the middle, pressed between their bodies while they leave kisses on your face, and whisper sweet words to you, their hands intertwined on your stomach while their thumbs rub small circles on your skin.

And as sleep takes over you again, you think that there’s no other place you’d rather be, if not between them.

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