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#if you read this.. thank you! I hope you liked it and consider reblogging it!
ellemj · 2 days
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A few notes I have for you all:
1) Thank you all so much for the overwhelming response to Does It Hurt. I really doubted that fic and it ended up getting probably the most uplifting and encouraging comments/reblogs that I have ever received. I love you all and appreciate every single one of you who reads, likes/comments/reblogs, DMs, or even just skims my shit.
2) Since the long fic was received so well by you all, and I’ve learned that I hate writing series’ (I swear it’s my commitment issues), I’ve decided to change things up a bit. I currently have two ongoing series that I haven’t touched in a while, and I think the best way to finish them out will be to turn them each into respective 20k+ word fics. So, Time & Temptation (roommates/enemies w/ benefits) and Off-Limits (mafia AU) both will be getting rewritten (with some changes) and then reposted as complete works. I will probably delete the current versions of those works from my blog soon.
3) I do very fucking much want to attempt writing a book. I’m hoping it’s something I can start working on maybe over the next few weeks, and obviously it’ll take a long time, but I just wanted to say that you all inspired it because I never would’ve considered it without the support I get on this silly little blog. Who knows if I’ll ever finish and attempt to publish it, but we’ll give it a go.
4) I’m hoping to spend some time this week getting my AO3 account stocked with some of the fics I have here since I still have a lot of issues with my fics being hidden from followers after they’ve been reported. I’m also thinking about linking my TikTok account here (it has zero posts currently lmao) just for shits and giggles one day. I’ll add any new links like my AO3 or TikTok into my bio here when I do decide to share them.
Just because I have to say it one more time, thank you all sooo much for the support. I have never felt as appreciated and uplifted as I did after posting that new fic last week. You’re all amazing and I’m beyond grateful that even just one of you, let alone a few thousand, would be interested in reading my daydreams.
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P.S I promise I read every single comment/reblog/DM obsessively, and I try to respond to as many people as possible. I will be catching up on them soon! 🖤
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zzoguri · 20 hours
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02:48 ➵ park gunwook
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park gunwook x reader
you’re set on playing some more games of valorant, and gunwook is trying to change your mind.
general genre/warnings ➵ established relationship, fluff, suggestive, lots of kissing, hickey moment…, valorant mention
word count ➵ 800 words
a/n ➵ happy birthday @shegotthewoobies <3 ily and i hope you like this drabble :DD if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog & leave feedback!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist
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gunwook wishes he isn’t the needy type. the one who can handle the distance. the one who can keep his hands to himself. the one who can fall asleep without you by his side. he hopes he can be the one to fulfill your every request, regardless of the hours or miles it may take.
he likes to think he’s made for you, but the reality is that he needs you.
before gunwook left for work, he promised you a few matches of valorant. his busy schedule didn’t give you two enough time in the day to spend with each other. all you had were hours made for sleep. although you understood gunwook’s schedule, only wanting him to rest before another day filled with work, he couldn’t share the same sentiments as you. all he wants is to be around you; intertwine fingers, and graze his lips over the expanse of your skin. despite your protests, it all falls on deaf ears as he cuts you off with a single kiss before taking his leave.
yet, work is spontaneous. he’ll never know if it’ll be a day where he waits for hours to pass by or to chase them.
gunwook tried to conceal his fatigue, peppering your face with kisses before telling you he’ll shower before he hops on the game. despite your worried eyes, he leads you to your chair before making his way to the washroom.
although he was tired from today’s work, he enjoyed the few matches he got to play. regardless of taerae’s trashtalk, matthew’s missed shots, and taerae’s partner’s whines, his stress levels subsided—all thanks to you. still, he couldn’t fight off the exhaustion.
“hey, i think i’m done for today,” gunwook says, earning a series of groans.
“no! we can’t end here. i mean, we can’t end on a loss!” regardless of taerae’s attempt to make him stay, he already closed the game. 
“bye guys.” he doesn’t wait for another word to leave his friends before he drops the discord call. as he looks over to his right, he sees your screen is on the lobby. he stands up from his seat, expecting you to take your leave until you pull out your phone. 
“hey, let him go to sleep. i’m down to play some unrated. but if you guys find someone else to fill, i’m also up for more ranked matches.”
gunwook can’t help but pout. he should’ve known that you would play a few more games. after all, you’d always try to find time in the day to play. yet, he wishes you could read the words in between his farewell—hey, let’s go to sleep.
a hum leaves you. “okay, let me try to ask my friend if they want to play.”
for a moment, gunwook considers going to bed, leaving you one kiss before you can continue playing. this is your time to destress. but his feet take him to where you are and his hand quickly reaches for your mouse so that he can mute your microphone.
you move your headphones to the side. “hey, what are you—”
his arms find their spot around your waist. “baby,” his whine has you holding your breath, “can’t you play some more games tomorrow? i missed you.”
“gunwook,” a shy giggle leaves your lips, “i’ll just play one or two more games. i’m pretty sure matthew and taerae are trying to find someone to fill.”
then, he nestles his face into your neck. while his nose grazes your skin, you let out a quiet exhale. but the moment you feel his lips, your eyes shut close. out of instinct. out of comfort. out of desire.
“c’mon, i’m sure they’ll understand.” his lips continue to cover every inch of your neck as his hands sneak under your shirt, fingers drawing shapes on your hips. gunwook’s persuasion is hard to ignore.
feigning ignorance, you say, “but i won’t get to play tomorrow. just one game.”
he musters a sigh and you think you won the battle, until his lips latch onto your neck. blunt teeth scratch against your skin as his tongue darts out, sucking in the spot. a soft moan leaves you as you throw your head back.
taerae’s shouts leak out of your headphones but you have no interest in hearing what he has to say.
gunwook’s lips leave you and you try to steady your breathing. you hate his effect on you. “c’mon, let’s go to bed.”
you need a few seconds before you swallow your shame. “to sleep?”
he giggles before he pulls back, allowing you to meet his gaze. “depends if you’ll quit valorant now or later.” and when you spot the smirk that rests on his lips, you don’t think twice about disconnecting from the call without saying goodbye.
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taglist: @kflixnet @blankjournal
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endy-the-anxious · 2 years
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I think I'm dying.
Summary: Creativity thinks he's dying
Words: 347
Warnings: implied death, death mention, let me know if there are any others!
Notes: Hi! I think this is the first fanfic i've ever posted on this account, but here I go! This is my take on King Creativity's split into Roman and Remus, inspired by this clip on youtube! (Most of the dialogue in the fic is based off of/copied from the clip, but I haven't actually watched the show it's from) Also I wrote this in one go in like 15 minutes sooooo if there's some spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes, lemme know.
Tagging: @lost-in-thought-20
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“Heh. I think I’m dying.”
Creativity’s voice was quiet when he spoke, but nobody was around to hear him anyways.
He hadn’t left his room in a couple of days. Not that he didn’t want to. The room had just locked him inside, so he’d spent most of his time trying to draw, or, just lay on his bed to think, like he was doing now.
Romulus had known something was wrong quite a while before this occurred, though. He’d felt it inside him. Like he was being pulled apart.
Letting out a sigh, he shook his head a little. Sure, this was bad, but it would get better. He just had to convince himself.
“Romulus always comes out on top,” he muttered.
“Not this time.”
When he heard that voice, he wasn’t sure if he made it up or not. That was, until he pulled his gaze away from the ceiling to look around his room.
There, beside his bed, stood a figure. Romulus couldn’t quite see their face, or what they looked like, but they had a vague red glow around them.
Their words made him frown a bit, “But.. I’m supposed to protect Thomas. That is my purpose.” he told them.
“Well, now your purpose is to die.”
Romulus watched as a green figure appeared beside the red one, and he began to feel a strange void in his chest. Like he was being pulled away.
“Oh..” he mumbled, as he looked back to the ceiling.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be okay in the end.” The red one said.
“Really..?”
“Just kidding!”
The green figure snickered, like he was making fun of him for believing the red one for a brief moment.
“You are not a hero,”
“You have become obsolete, Romulus.”
And with those words, the pair disappeared into thin air.
He thought about their words as he felt his body get lighter. He didn’t want to believe them. What about his purpose..? What of Thomas’s creativity..?
“No..” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper now.
“Romulus... always….. comes.. out..…. on-.........................”
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dollwrites · 2 months
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ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ʀᴀғᴀʏᴇʟ
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!bff!reader, sex toys mentioned but not used, noise control, dub con technically ( for him… kinda TRUST THE PROCESS ) prank gone wrong for reader lol, creampie, has absolutely no spoilers or deep lore, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. HAPPY 4/20! i was gonna do some dizzy drabbles but i couldn’t get this out of my head. not proofread ( and written when i was in the clouds ) so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
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what had started out as a fun prank on your best friend for revenge ended with you completely at his mercy, unbeknownst to him.
picking up around the studio wasn’t something you did too often, considering it a breach of Rafayel’s privacy, but when you got there and he wasn’t home, you let yourself inside like you usually did. you were about an hour early, anyways. you hadn’t taken two steps when you stumble over a pile of crumpled sketch paper. you scrunched your brows as you gazed around your environment. scattered brushes, broken pencils, and a canvas half-painted in the middle of the floor. you sighed; perhaps Rafayel had hit a wall with his muse and had gone for a walk on the beach. the least you could do for him, you’d decided, was to clean up a bit. after all, a clean space is a productive space, right?
that was when you came across it, left carelessly on his bed, swaddled in a sea of white sheets and the comforter. you’d never seen one in real life until this moment, and at first you mistook it for a woman asleep in his bed with her butt sticking out of the blankets— but, it was fake. a plump, nearly life sized ass sitting atop the mattress.
does Rafayel really use something like this?
you found your cheeks heated up with embarrassment when you pictured him mounting it, both of his smooth palm against the cheeks, svelte digits digging into the silicone to spread it open wide enough for him to push inside…
shaking your head to snap yourself out of the fantasy, you look around, making sure no one was around to see you get lost in your own desire for him. “S—stupid.” you muttered to yourself, stepping closer to touch the fleshiest part of it. surprisingly soft, as soft as your own skin. your brow quirks, fingers sliding to the waistband of a pair of cerulean, lace panties that adorned the faux lower body. it seemed so strange to have clothes on something that was meant to stay hidden and used in private, as if the silicone slab had been laid out meticulously…
no, Rafayel didn’t use this for his own pleasure, you decided. this was a prank. an elaborate one, but one meant to fluster you when you came over.
he was such an ass!
“Oh yeah?” you challenge under your breath, grasping the panties and tugging them off of the toy, “You want to play games? I can play, too.” determined to outprank Rafayel, you toss the panties on the bed and stash the toy beneath the bed. it was surprisingly heavy, and made a splat when it hit the surface of the floor, you had to stifle a chuckle as just hilarious this was. you didn’t want him to win, even if he wasn’t there to see it. quickly unbuttoning your pants, you discard them and the panties you were wearing, kicking them under the bed, too. then, you grab the cerulean lace and pull them on— perfect fit! you took a moment to glance in a nearby mirror, turning slightly. your ass had a similar curve and complexion, and you hoped it was enough to fool him, at least long enough for you to scare him when he least expected it. then, you climb into the bed, scrupulous as you nest your top half under a pile of blankets, the pillows resting on the top of your shoulders to hide your head. there was also the issue with your legs. it took a great amount of wrapping sheets around your thighs as you kick and squirm, before you’re finally perfectly positioned— identical to the way he’d left the fake ass, your own sticks out as if inviting him, as you wait for him to return.
at first, it had been difficult to keep yourself from jittering, too excited to see the look on his face when you jump out, effectively one-upping his lewd joke. but, as the minutes ticked on, with your entire body hidden within his bedding, you’d started to sweat, breathing in the dense air trapped under the pillows with you, and you had to readjust several times. it took so long that you were just about to give up on the prank and unbury yourself, before you heard the door open.
showtime.
you felt knots of excitement tying themselves together in your belly as you willed yourself to be as still as possible, and appear as the lifeless, silicone toy.
you could hear him moving about the studio, sighing, and your heart was starting to beat faster in your ears— you hoped that he would hurry to his room, so you could reveal yourself soon, and you could get out from under this suffocating duvet.
when he’d stepped into the bedroom, you hear the door close behind him, and you have to physically keep yourself from kicking your feet in excitement. it was almost time to scare the living daylights out of your best friend. your muscles tighten, ready to jump up, but a sound abruptly stops you.
a zipper.
you freeze, listening silently to the sound of rusting fabric. soft thuds as he kicked out of his shoes, and a whoosh that follows towards the floor.
was he undressing?
your eyes widen only when you hear a heavy breath, followed by the click of a cap. squeezing, then a low moan coming from behind you. it was Rafayel. your eyes widen. you’d never heard such a sound from his mouth, and you had a pretty good idea of what he was doing. the subtle skin slapping that started slow, but sped up shortly after, his breath getting heavier simultaneously. you realized how wrong it was to hear Rafayel pleasuring himself, especially when he didn’t know that you were there. you should really say something, open your mouth and let him know that he wasn’t alone, but when your lips parted, you couldn’t force any sound from it. you were too stunned by these sounds to give him any kind of warning. you listen, mouth agape and eyes big, staring into the headboard of his bed as he takes a few steps towards the foot of it. your mind races, realizing that he had not placed the toy on his bed for you to find it—
this had not been a toilet-humor prank that he was putting together. he simply hadn’t had the time to hide his private toys before you stumbled upon them.
to solidify this revelation, you feel one hand tracing over the shape of your ass. his fingers were warm and slick, and you nearly gasped, sealing your lips just in time for his digits to curl around the panties and tug on them, inching down your thighs. he would definitely discover you were disguising yourself as the toy when he couldn’t take them all the way off, and that thought was equally humiliating and comforting. you didn’t exactly love the idea of him finding out now, after exposing your cunt to him, and now that you’d gotten an earful of him jerking off, but at least things wouldn’t go further. Rafayel doesn’t, however, try to pull the panties down completely. instead, he seems content to leave them around your thighs, and his fingers trace upwards, slowly and skillfully, until they trace your netherlips, slathering your sex in what had to be lube, cool and wet.
oh, god. your top teeth sink into your lower lip as his fingertips swipe full laps between your folds. the pads rub against your most sensitive nub, leaving it throbbing and begging for more attention before they drag downwards, teasing your opening. he didn’t seem to notice that your cunt spasms, attempting to clamp down on his fingers, before they run another lap. he lets out a heavy breath, the sound of his palm smacking against his abdomen as he fucks his own hand in tandem to the way he was unknowingly teasing your pussy making your head spin.
this was so wrong.
you had to tell him right now.
your tiers part once more, this time determined to stop this before—
the swollen, slippery head of Rafayel’s cock rubs against your slit. one hand covers your mouth to keep any sound, words or otherwise, from escaping as you realize that it’s too late to expose yourself now. you’d look like a total creep, taking advantage of your best friend by pretending to be his sex toy. “Huh—uhh…” Rafayel emitted a low moan as he rubbed his dick against you a few more times, before planting one palm on your ass, the other holding tight to his base as he plunged inside.
it took all you had within you to not let out a cry of surprise at the sudden entry. your free hand grips the sheet so tightly you fear your nails will rip holes in it, and your toes curl beneath the mattress. Rafayel had been under the impression that he could be as rough as he wanted, because the pussy was nothing but a silicone replica, and so his rhythm was steady, deep pumping almost immediately upon bottoming out in your guts. “Fuck,” he breathes out, hips thumping against your ass, both hands grasping at it. “F—feels good… yeah,”
he was right about that, and you wished you could vocalize it. your walls fluttered about in delight as he pounded into you, his cock was longer than you’d thought it would be, the tip bold in its deep exploration, prodding against your g-spot with every, full thrust of his hips. you fought the urge to bounce back, meet his movements with equally eager grinding. instead, your eyes began to roll and your lids flittered, and the grip on your own mouth tightened to keep any of your stifled mewls and whimpers from escaping. you couldn’t, however, keep from gushing when he hit the perfect depth with his fervent stroking, and you could only hope that his thorough drenching you in lubrication would be enough to mask this.
you could hear him panting, moaning, swearing, as he fucked you with reckless abandon. his fingers digging into your warm, satin skin, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you. it was as if you felt every, single vein as they rub your walls, autographing your insides, claiming them as his as he uses you.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…!”
he was getting louder, his hips bucking more powerfully, more erratically, and the throbbing in your core was a testament to just how close to cumming he was.
you knew how wrong this was, but all rational thinking was dissipating; you were enjoying being fucked like this; greedy, careless pounding, by your closest friend too much to ruin it, now. you didn’t want to stop it, not until he was fully satiated.
“F—fuck, yeah,” Rafayel swoons, grabbing full fists of your ass, pulling your ass back to meet his hungry hip-snapping, “more, more, more!”
you couldn’t take much more, and you push your face into the mattress to keep quiet, both hands scrambling to hold on to something, squeezing the edge of the mattress with your nails sinking in— anything to relieve the pressure he was forcing as deep into you as he could. your feet wanted to kick, your back wanted to arch, and you wanted to scream out in pure pleasure, so you clung to the bed as tightly as you could in hopes that you could ride out the orgasm he was ripping from you.
he didn’t even seem to notice your twitching and subtle squirming beneath the blankets as he made you drop off and come undone, which you were thankful for, because he was too caught up in chasing his own high. “Gonna cum, gonna cum!” Rafayel was sputtering, desperately trying to get there, pressing all of his weight against your ass as he pumps a few more, deep and hard, thrusts into you before he grunts, and releases. as if he’d been pent up for quite a while, you felt a spattering of warmth, and then it spreads as he fills your belly with his essence. you nearly lose it in this moment, and almost blow your cover, your walls clamping down on his cock as he starts to retract. it felt so good to be full of Rafayel that you didn’t want him to pull out, but he does so with a ragged moan. there’s an uncomfortable emptiness that follows his abandoning of your cunt, the feeling of being fucked deep and left there, your oblivious best friend’s cum dribbling out of your used pussy as it twitches and your muscles stay tense. you knew you were leaving a small puddle on his sheets below you, but you could hear him milling around the room instead of focusing on you, now.
“Damn,” he mutters to himself, and you his phone unlock, then the rapid-fire tapping of his fingers on the keys. was he… texting?
you were answered when you heard the faint vibrating of your phone in your pants pocket, hidden under the bed. he texted you?! at first, you think he must’ve heard it, because everything went silent, and you waited for him to start shouting, but he doesn’t.
a few moments later, the door opens, and his footsteps fade as he swaggers down the corridor, satiated, and a moment later, you hear the shower turn on.
for the first time in several minutes, your muscles relax for a moment, before you swim out from your heated prison in a hurry, scrambling under the bed to grab your phone. every move you made, you could feel his release swirling around inside you and dribbling down your thighs, and you groan at the sensation, and the trail you made before you pulled the panties up to keep any more from leaving evidence. staring at the screen, panting and fucked out, your eyes barely focusing, you read the message in disbelief.
just woke up so i’m running late. stop on the way and buy lunch or something i’m starving
liar.
but you didn’t have time to dwell on the message; you get dressed as quickly as you can, what with your legs trembling like shaken jelly and your insides sore from Rafayel’s eager plowing, and hoist the fake butt back into place on top of the bed. you had to make a stealthy exit before he got out of the shower. stuffing your own panties into your pocket, you decide the best way to avoid an even stickier mess on his floor that would certainly be noticeable, you had to wear the panties meant for the doll. you could only pray he didn’t realize they’d gone missing right away, and later today when you could sneak away to the bathroom, you’d put them back in place.
so, stumbling and trying to catch your breath, freshly fucked, you leave through the sliding back door, the one that faces the shoreside, and closes it behind you to complete your escape.
once outside, you exhale deeply, lean against his car, hidden from windows’ views, to evaluate the damage, beyond the mess of him in your panties. you groan, covering your face with both hands in belated guilt.
you could never, ever tell him about this!
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daisynik7 · 11 months
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[M4F] Husband Catches You Listening to Audio P*rn, Teaches You a Lesson [Soft Mdom] [Established Relationship] [Mild Degradation] [Praise] [Overstimulation] [Multiple Orgasms] [Creampie]
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Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader
Word Count: ~2.6k
cw: established relationship, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), sex toys, mutual masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, sex without a condom, creampie, overstimulation, soft dom!Nanami, breeding kink, mild degradation (use of slut and whore), praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (honey, sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)
Summary: Nanami comes home early from his business trip and catches you doing something naughty in your bedroom. Author’s Note: Inspired by all the audio porn VAs that I listen to! Special shoutout to @mrsackermannx for raving about AugustInTheWinter with me. If you have not listened to him yet, PLEASE check him out, he’s incredible. Also, I’m clearly very delulu for Nanami currently, considering this is the third piece I’ve written for him within a week, but hey, this is my outlet! So I hope you enjoy! MDNI divider created by @/cafekitsune. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!
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Your skin is sweltering against the sheets, sweat damp on your forehead and neck. Thighs are apart, vibrator buzzing on your clit, sleek with lube and arousal. You’re home alone; Nanami doesn’t return until tomorrow morning. Still, the thought of the audio porn playing on speaker makes you shy, so you have both earbuds in, listening to the sultry tones of your favorite voice actor moaning expletives directly into your ear. Such a good girl, oh fuck. You feel so good, sweetheart. Take that cock for me. You are so fucking tight, holy shit. The added sound effects of thwapping and wet squelches in the background immerse you into a state of erotic bliss, gushing for the second time tonight from the sensation of the toy pulsing on your throbbing bud.
“What do we have here?”
You jolt up when you hear your husband’s voice from the doorway, startled to see him standing there, leaning against the frame with a serious look on his face. His spectacles are on, covering his eyes, which you can tell are boring into you in this lewd position. 
Popping your headphones off, you hide the vibrator under the pillow, as if he hasn’t already caught you red-handed. Closing your legs, you bat your eyelashes, feigning an innocent expression. “Honey! What are you doing here?” More heat rushes into your cheeks, scorching hot from your recent orgasm and current embarrassment.  
He steps forward, sitting at the far edge of the bed, avoiding your gaze by staring at the floor, acting disappointed. “I managed to catch an earlier flight. Wanted to surprise you.” Dramatic, he turns to face you, eyes narrowed through his tinted lenses. “It appears that I am the one being surprised.” 
Biting your lip to hold back your laughter, you crawl towards him, naked from the waist down, your panties discarded on the floor near his feet. He’s not actually upset; having been together long enough and in tune with each other’s emotions, you can tell that he isn’t seriously mad at you. This is a role he indulges in occasionally: stoic, strict husband with a mean streak when things don’t go his way. And you know exactly where this will lead to, so naturally, you play along. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t think you would be coming home tonight. I just thought I’d have a little bit of fun.” You massage his shoulders, nuzzling your face to his nape, giving him a loud smooch. 
He shifts around in the bed, confronting you. “What were you listening to?” There’s legitimate curiosity in his voice, and now genuine guilt builds in your chest upon his question. 
You swallow hard, anxious to admit the truth, too ashamed to lie to him. “Um, I was listening to porn. Audio porn.”
He raises a brow at you, confused. Then, he says, “Let me hear it.”
Reluctantly, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, resuming from where you paused. Wet slaps blare through the speaker, then a man’s voice, moaning, “Ah fuck, let me hear you. Let me hear you moan on my cock. Let me hear you take this cock. Yeah, like that baby, take it just like that.” 
You bury your head in your hands, absolutely mortified as the pornographic dialogue continues. The audio comes to a halt when Nanami stops it, silently tapping at the screen. You’re still hiding in disgrace, squeezing your legs together tightly to conceal the evidence of your supposed sin. The tension is palpable, with neither of you speaking or making any sudden movements. You’re dying to know what he’s thinking, simultaneously terrified of his judgement. 
He clears his throat; you peek through your fingers to catch him loosening his tie around his collar, removing the glasses from his face. He’s blushing, brows tight with contemplation. “Did you come to this?” he asks, almost breathless. 
You lower your hands, fisting them into the sheets beneath you, nodding. Anticipating. 
“Show me,” he demands, eyes at your lap. Too eagerly do you spread your legs, displaying your sopping cunt to him, staring at his lips part slightly, a barely audible growl resounding within his throat. Your uneasiness gradually slips into arousal, aching to be touched, even punished, by your formidable husband. He bows, licking his mouth, inspecting you like prey he’s about to devour. Flicking his eyes to yours, he mutters, “You’re a dirty slut for listening to this filth. Have you no shame?” He kneels before you, unbuttoning his dress shirt, exposing the white tee underneath. Chiseled chest and abs carved into the fabric like fucking marble. 
Losing composure, you blurt out, “No shame, absolutely none. I’m fucking filthy.” Your pussy aches, toes clenched, thrilled. 
“I can’t stand you listening to another man’s voice while you get off. It makes me sick thinking about it. Makes my blood fucking boil.” His tone is menacing in way that titillates every inch of your skin, has you shuddering from the low growl at the end of each sentence. 
“Are you going to punish me?” you goad, saliva collecting on your tongue, heavy with lust.
“I can think of something better.” Reaching for your phone, he navigates through it, finding your voice recorder app. He taps on the big red button, setting it beside you. “From now on, you only come to my voice. Got it?”
You swallow hard, almost chocking on your spit when you respond, “Yes. Yes, baby.”
He grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Good girl.” His thumb traces the outline of your parted lips, your mouth inviting him in. But he doesn’t, leaning back on his wrists, observing you with the obvious bulge protruding from his slacks. “Get that vibrator. Show me how you do it.”
Obeying, you search for it under the pillow, retrieving it to rub the tip up and down your folds, finger on the trigger. “There you go,” he encourages, a cocky smirk on his face, slowly unbuckling the belt around his waist, sliding it from the loops and tossing it aside. “Tease it a little before you turn it on. Make sure it’s exactly where you want it.” 
You tap the toy on your swollen bud, already sensitive from your earlier climax. You meet his gaze, waiting for a signal. He slides out of his pants and briefs, revealing his erection sprung against his belly. Before he does anything else, he grabs your phone and sets it on the bed between you. Palming his length, he grins. “Go ahead.” 
What a fucking menace he can be.
Pushing the button, the vibrator immediately pulsates on you, causing you to twitch from the intense sensation. He watches, fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking himself, thumb grazing the slit. “Look at you. My gorgeous girl,” he purrs. “My perfect angel with the prettiest pussy. Can’t wait to stretch you open with this cock. Bury myself deep inside you. Fill you up with my cum.”
“Fuck, Kento,” you whimper, pressing the fluttering tip firmer, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. You’ve always loved his hands; how pristine they are with his knuckles tight on his skin. Large, strong, then rough on the pads of his fingers from hard work and constant use. They’re even prettier in a fist surrounding his cock, wrist jerking hastily, precum glistening at the tip. Your entire focus is on him touching himself while he watches you do the same, the toy’s low hum enhanced when it’s snugly nestled to your clit. 
“You like it when I talk nasty to you, huh?” he huffs, readjusting himself nearer to you. He’s so close, you can practically feel the tip of his cock at your quivering pussy. “Is it better than listening to your ridiculous pornography?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine, jutting your hips out, attempting to close the gap. 
“Unlike them, I can actually touch you,” he muses, his tip teasing your entrance. “I can do whatever I want, whatever you want. They don’t get to fuck this sweet cunt like I get to. They don’t get to taste you the way I do.” 
Suddenly, he grabs the vibrator from your grasp, shutting it off and setting it back under the pillow. He shifts down the bed, positioning his head between your thighs, diving in tongue first onto your puffy clit. Pleasure resonates from your core throughout your limbs, legs shaky and mind hazy as he slobbers all over you, covering your bud in his frothy spit. It’s sloppy, salacious, straight up nasty. After only a few strokes of his tongue, it’s already enough to send you into your third orgasm of the night, more powerful than the first two combined when you were alone. 
You’d be a fool to expect him to let up after coming once with him; still, it shocks you when he doesn’t stop. He latches to you harder, suckling on your sensitive clit until it’s plump between his glossy lips and you’re crying out, “Too much!” overstimulated and spasming above him. Sometimes, when he’s in one of these moods, he forgets his own virility, always so keen on making you orgasm multiple times in one go. Tonight, he forgets that you had already been prepping yourself since earlier. With a gentle kiss, he relents, indulging in his work by running his tongue along your gushing pussy, drinking up your cum. He reaches for his cock, stiff between his stomach and the bedsheets under him. On his knees, he returns to his spot from earlier, stroking his cock with the tip just barely in your entrance. 
You’re absolutely spent, but you yearn for him inside you, desperate to be filled with his load. “Come in me, baby,” you beg, gripping his wrist to pull him closer. “Fuck me.” 
He lets out a disapproving tsk, shaking his head. “Not yet, princess. You have to be patient. We’re just getting started,” he smirks, stroking himself faster. “Are you just so fucking needy for my cum?” You nod erratically, tempted to thrust yourself onto him. 
“Then beg for it,” he orders, sliding his cock the slightest bit further inside you. “Convince me that you deserve it.”
Understanding what he wants, you retrieve your little toy again, rubbing small circles with it on your bud, smearing whatever is left of your orgasm around it. “Please, Kento. Please. I need it. I need it.”
The sight of you like this has him dangling on the very edge, so close to climax. “Turn it on,” he demands. You do, the buzz electrifying all the nerves in your body yet again. You chant his name over and over until he shoots insides you, spurts of opaque cum flooding your pussy. “Yes, yes. Good girl. Take that fucking cum. Take all of it. Fuck.” His voice is hushed, breathy and trembling from the high. 
You stop the vibrator, tossing it to the floor carelessly. Nanami crawls next to you, cradling you in his arms. With a kiss to your forehead, he whispers, “Are you okay?” 
You smile, turning to face him, nuzzling his chest. “Of course.”
He caresses your face, trailing down your body to rest his hand at your waist. He glances at your phone beside you. “We’re still recording, you know.”
You giggle. “And…?”
He kisses you softly, tongue flitting past your lips, guiding you flat on your back, spreading your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.” His hand glides to your loins, toying with your swollen clit before teasing your entrance, brimming with his creampie. “Can you still take it, sweetheart?”
You nod, breath hitching, cuddling closer to him. Smiling sweetly at you, he eases a finger in, cum overflowing your pussy and trickling out from your slit. He slides in another easily, stretching you open, a whine escaping you. His mouth is hot on your ear. “You love this, don’t you? Me finger fucking my cum deeper inside you. Taking it like an obedient whore.” He picks up the pace, your cunt clenching his digits. “I’m going to get you pregnant tonight. Breed you, make you mine. You want that, sweetie?” His fingers writhe inside you, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly until you’re tight around him, ready for another orgasm. At this point, you’ve stopped keeping count, lost in a sex-fueled craze instigated by your husband. 
“Yes, Kento. Give it to me. I want it. I want it so bad.” You notice he’s hard again, his erection stiffening against your leg. Reaching for him, you rub your hand on his length, feeling it twitch from your touch.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling out from you. He sits up, back to the headboard, beckoning. “Get on my lap. Hurry,” he urges, hoisting you towards him. You straddle him, guiding his cock to your entrance. “Sink down on it. There we go,” he instructs, eyes wide, desperation etched in his tone. He needs this just as much as you do, and it drives you wild. You follow his command, lowering yourself onto him, his dick sliding in smoothly, bottoming out. “That’s my good girl. Fuck. You’re so good to me. So fucking good to me.”
You start riding him the way he likes, your ass slapping loudly on his thighs. He’s moaning endlessly, throwing in the occasional fuck and pet name as he grips your hips, bouncing you on his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck to keep steady, holding him tightly. “Want your cum,” you manage to utter, enraptured in the scorching pleasure he surrounds you in. 
He's fucking up into you, feet planted at the end of the bed. The mattress creaks with every thrust of his cock. In a huffy breath, he says, “Milk it out of me, honey. Milk me fucking dry. You can do it sweetheart; I know you can.” The praise encourages you to ride him faster, rougher, your bodies in tandem, springing on the bed, moaning into each other’s mouth with a passionate kiss. 
Soon, he pulsates inside you, stuffing you even fuller with his cum. You climax once more, gripping his cock with your fluttering pussy. He cradles you in a cozy embrace, catching his breath, nuzzling his nose to your chest. You giggle, running you fingers through his hair, smooching the top of his head. “You okay?” you ask, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
He nods, exhaling deeply. “Just let me hold you. Need to calm down.”
You laugh, amused by his current state of post-coital euphoria. Fetching the phone teetering precariously at the edge of the bed now, you tap on the red button to stop the recording. Seeing this, he mentions, “You know I don’t actually mind you listening to that kind of stuff, right?” 
You smile, noticing the guilt in his voice, massaging his back. “I know, honey. I know you don’t.”
He squeezes you, taking a deep breath. “Okay, good. Just want to make that clear.”
You cup his cheek, thumb caressing the stress lines along his face, gradually relaxing to your touch. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d much rather listen to this than some stranger on the Internet.”
Chuckling, he replies. “Maybe it makes me feel a little bit better.” He snuggles closer to you, hugging you tight, reluctant to let you go. Eventually, the two of you slip beneath the covers, getting comfortable with Nanami spooning you from behind.  
You glance at the screen, showing the several minute long recording and the play button adjacent to it, ready to be tapped. “So,” you start, craning your neck to smirk at him. “Should we give it a listen?”
He returns your grin, shifting beside you, cock growing hard between your ass cheeks. “Absolutely.”
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mypoisonedvine · 11 months
Text
"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader
(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth
once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!
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Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.
The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately.  No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it.  And believe it or not, he wanted more than that.  Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone.  He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night.  Either, or both, would do.
It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you.  He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job.  It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels.  The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security.  This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.
But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window.  His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…
He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation.  But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.
Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.
~
The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you.  He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with.  Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.
For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you.  It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction.  Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong.  This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been.  His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike.  God, did he really have a crush?  How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.
"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.
"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said.  He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.
"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.
"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.
"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"
Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."
He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive.  "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.
"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”
As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.
“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."
"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer.  Like fish in a barrel.  "How old is it?"
"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.
"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again.  "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious.  Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."
You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about.  He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.
“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson.  It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”
You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him.  “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”
“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”
“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained.  “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”
Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying.  And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still.  A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do.  And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people.  You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again.  He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it.  No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all.  Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.
And he also found that annoyingly attractive.  Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.
….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!
“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied. 
“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.
“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around.  Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”
“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own.  I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”
“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled.  “For me it’s probably cocktails.  I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”
“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”
“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.
Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess.  Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected.  All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.
“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”
You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.
“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.
For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh.  “You were on the right track,” you admitted.
“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration.  After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”
“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.
“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself.  Your drink order, I mean.”
Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far.  Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment.  “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.
He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown.  Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off?  You’d seemed so flattered before.  “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice.  “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?
“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face.  “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there.  So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”
“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch.  “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there.  I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”
You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly.  “Yeah, it is.”
“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on.  “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”
You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace.  “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply.  “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.
“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.
“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.
Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself.  Bitch.  But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course.  Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted.  Do what I say, or he gets hurt.
Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician.  But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.
~
The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.
“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.
And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him.  He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties.  “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him.  But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going.  Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.
It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth.  “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck.  “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”
Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.
“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while.  “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."
Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long.  That made you feel more violated than anything.
“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait.  I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”
You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything.  “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.
“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”
It was the way he said that word: sweet.  It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day.  Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that.  “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”
“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.
“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”
“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face.  “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly.  “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”
“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.
“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned.  “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers.  Don’t give me one.”
Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself.  Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen.  And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.
“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.
You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.
“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.
“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.
“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.
“Yours!  Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek.  “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this.  Please don’t do this.”
You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest.  “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”
You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.
“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.
“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck.  “You’re right— you can do whatever you want.  I can’t stop you.  Isn’t that what you wanted to prove?  Just… just don’t make me—”
“Make you?” he repeated.  “No, no— you wanted me.  I could tell.  Only thing stopping you was him.”
He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.
“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you.  “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”
Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.  
“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts.  “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”
You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come.  “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.
“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.
“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.
“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick.  “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic?  That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only.  That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least.  You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”
He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.  
“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.
“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved.  “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”
"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"
Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.
A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin.  You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.  
"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"
He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"
As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.
"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.
He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself.  You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head.  He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.
“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip.  “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”
You shook your head.  “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say.  Don’t hurt him.”
“Open your legs,” he ordered.  
Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.  
“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.
He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further.  His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.
Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum.  "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled.  You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away.  Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other.  "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.
Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.  
You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking.  Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you?  Or was it for his own benefit?
He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open.  Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.  
“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course.  Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely.  “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”
You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips.  “So wet.  Fuck.  When’d you get like that, huh?  Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”
He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.
“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly.  “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”
You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.
“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed.  “Fuck, I might break you…”
He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction.  There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips. 
“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless.  “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”
He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.
“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised.  “Now you try it.”
This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside.  He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.
“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks.  “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl.  Knew you could.”
You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet.  He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.
“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head.  “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”
You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned.  “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”
Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.
“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.
You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.
“Go on!  Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.
You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this.  From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening.  Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…
But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.
“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”
“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.
“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly.  “Please fuck me.”
You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you.  You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside.  “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, it’s tight.  Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town.  I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”
Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.
Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this.  The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.
Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment.  “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.
“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously).  “Not used to anything this big, huh?”
You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend.  You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.
“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust.  Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life.  “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”
The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to.  It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.
“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this.  “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”
Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once.  Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder.  He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore.  Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck.  One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.
“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss.  “Fuck.”
But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him.  “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”
“God,” he growled, “say my name again.  That’s so hot.”
You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late.  “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.
“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.
“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this.  “Jackson, f-fuck—”
He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…
As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair. 
"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.
Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.
Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.
You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole.  “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.
“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.
“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain.  “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper.  Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling.  “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”
Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.
“See?  Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb.  Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.
He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck. 
"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"
He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass.  You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…
"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."
You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.
“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster.  “Needy little slut.  You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”
You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.
"Answer me," he insisted.
"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.
"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.
"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.
“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone.  “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”
“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”
"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"
He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.
"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue.  "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."
You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.
He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction.  "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"
You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why.  It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird.  Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.
“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.  
At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting.  But in a literal sense, it hurt less.
“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back.  Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected.  You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly.  “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”
Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly.  “F-fuck, wait—“
He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him.  For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure.  “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”
As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going.  “Fuck!” you screamed.  “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”
“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.  
You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something.  Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized.  Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.
“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder.  “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll.  Show him who you really belong to now.”
“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries.  If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).
It felt fucking good.  You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious.  And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless.  You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually.  Shameless.  Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed.  “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.  
It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.  
"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"
“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.
“Mm?  Why not?” he smirked.
You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that.  “What?” you just asked groggily.  “Why… why do you think?!”
He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going.  Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?
“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.
“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific.  “Fuck!”
He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing.  But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could.  You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.
He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?
As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.
“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.
You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.
“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.
Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor.  Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.
“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him.  He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat.  “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.
He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest.  You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.
When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.  
It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved.  It’s over, he’s finally done with you.  You did it.  It’s over.  But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.
“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you.  “You see it, don’t you?  He looks different now.”
You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time.  His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing.  You suddenly felt sick.
“He looks at you different now.”
You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that.  Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you.  But what had you done wrong?  All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person… 
Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder.  “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.  
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.
“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”
Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek.  “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault!  I didn’t want this to happen!”
“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”
You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly.  After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.
He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence.  “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.
“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took.  Everything. From me.”
“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you?  Can’t help that?”
“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.
“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?” 
Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience.  You shook your head.
“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that.  I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”
“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.
“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked.  “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”
You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself.  “Work…?”
“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”
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jen-with-a-pen · 4 months
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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦
summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.
parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader
word count: 6.5K
warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum
a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.
If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!
gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
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𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is. 
Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter–  to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day. 
You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.
When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.
Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.
After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.
You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week. 
With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.  
Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together. 
Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”
The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival. 
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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’ 
“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door. 
“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.
You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.
Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger. 
“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.
It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder. 
The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit. 
“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.
“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip. 
Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing. 
“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.
You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.  
“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.
Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.
“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”
“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink. 
Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it. 
You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time. 
You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell. 
Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.
The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.
“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear. 
“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”
White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.
He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.
“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.
His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.
You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below. 
With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.
“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost. 
“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape. 
“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”
He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully. 
“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.
“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.
“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”
He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.
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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium. 
There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form. 
Your face burned.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.” 
He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.
♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.
You swallowed a groan. 
“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear. 
“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”
“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”
“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”
Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours. 
“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.” 
You wanted to take his finger and break it.  
You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.
You doubted it was convincing.
“Fine.” 
He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion. 
When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.
“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”
“When the hell did you–”
“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.
“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance. 
He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.
The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles. 
“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.
Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.
It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike. 
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The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”
“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. 
Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–
“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously. 
“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side. 
“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.
“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 
“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.
You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”
His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward. 
You swallowed. “You heard me.”
One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard. 
Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body. 
“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.
“Look at me!” 
“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 
With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.
You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.
“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.” 
His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”
You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone. 
“Is that all, Sergeant?” 
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.
“You heard me.” 
The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 
“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.
“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”
Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.
“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you. 
And you let him.
“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.
“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 
Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why. 
He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame. 
“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your heart stopped.
“You’re telling me.”
Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door. 
Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy. 
Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.
Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however. 
He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?” 
You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”
“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.
“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release. 
“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.
“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”
He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”
“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”
“Number fuckin’ one.”
The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core. 
Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.
“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.
He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs. 
“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass. 
SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”
SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”
SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.” 
Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him. 
“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure. 
“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you. 
“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 
He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you. 
“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode. 
“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”
“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.
For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile. 
“Thanks.”
He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”
You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”
“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.
“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”
“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.
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So this is a weird ask but I figured an Actual Welsh Person would be the person to go to, and you've been pretty gung-ho about the language thing. So I hope I'm not bothering you with this.
Is there a cultural consensus on foreigners learning Welsh? I'm American and I don't have a single shred of Welsh ancestry. My family is historically German, and we've been here since the English Colony days, so it honestly seems really weird even to try to claim some tie to German heritage.
Anyway, my point is, I have absolutely zero legitimate claim to the Welsh language. I don't plan to travel to Wales in the foreseeable future. I have no reason to learn Welsh except that it sounds pretty and I enjoy a challenge.
Putting aside the issue of "lmao it's gonna be stupid difficult to learn an endangered language if you don't have anyone to speak it with" (I have a loose plan for dealing with that, and the experience of learning two languages to "can read most novels without needing the dictionary" level without anyone to speak them with in person already) entirely, do you reckon it's okay for me to study Welsh? I know Americans are really, really bad about just kinda assuming the whole world belongs to us, and I'm trying not to do that here. Especially because Welsh IS endangered.
I imagine your average Welsh person probably doesn't care what some random American does. But like, for people who care about the language...Would it be considered disrespectful or overstepping for me to study it? I don't expect you to speak for the entire country, of course, but I respect your opinion and I feel like you'd have a grasp on what the general feeling towards a foreigner like me might be.
Thanks for your time.
I honestly, truly, do not understand how the discussion around cultural appropriation has been twisted in the cultural zeitgeist to such an extent that people now feel anxiety about learning other languages.
This is not a personal attack on you, Anon - the gods only know that you clearly care and want to do the right thing, and that's beautiful and wonderful and also I will come back to extolling your personal virtues at the end of this post, so stay tuned. But I do want to take a moment here to talk about the broader issue at play, which I have seen echoed multiple times elsewhere, because fuck me what are we doing to ourselves.
Learn. Languages.
That is what languages are for! To be used for communication. If you don't learn languages, you are forcing everyone else to use yours. How have we somehow, as a culture, twisted that into being the less selfish option? How have we done that? I posted my favourite Welsh idiom recently, and someone reblogged it and wrote in the tags that they loved the idiom and would start using it, but they would do so in English because their "Welsh pronunciation would make their Welsh grandmother spin in her grave."
What kind of mental gymnastics is that?
How the fuck do you twist it so badly that you think taking a Welsh idiom for your own and exclusively using it in English is less offensive than saying it in Welsh but maybe a bit wrong? I've literally had people proclaim to me that they're learning Welsh on Duolingo but they never speak it because they're too self-conscious, and they tell me this not to highlight a massive flaw in themselves that they need to work on, but as though I'm supposed to pat them on the head and thank them for... still making me speak English to them.
There was that post where a Deaf blogger received an anonymous ask saying learning sign language is cultural appropriation, as though Deaf people haven't been calling for Sign to be taught in schools. As though a Deaf person being entirely isolated in everyday hearing society unless they have an interpreter with them is less offensive than a hearing person being able to use BSL.
Like, these are not sacred or religious languages. The purpose of Welsh or BSL or what have you is not to perform the Eleusinian mysteries. It's a living everyday language, same as English -
Except it's not the same as English. As Anon here so rightly points out, Welsh is endangered. That means we are desperate for people to learn it. That's how it will survive. That's how we reversed it from 'dying language' to 'living language', in fact - we managed to get lots of people to learn it. You know what is a threat, though? People not learning it because, like poor Anon here, they've been somehow convinced by Western society that you're only allowed to learn languages if you personally have a historic or cultural connection to them that you can prove via six forms of ID and a letter of recommendation from a druid. Or people never using it because they're too embarrassed to try and risk losing face by getting it wrong, or maybe sounding a bit silly, and thus forcing us to use English anyway. Those are threats.
Anon. Listen to me, feel the sincerity of my words: we adore you. We adore you. You cannot imagine how appreciated it is when someone learns Welsh. You cannot imagine how touched we are that you wanted to, that you tried, that you respected us enough and considered us valid enough that you made the effort. Our closest neighbours are the very people who are still trying to stamp out Welsh to this very day. Do you know the number 1 reaction I get, by a country mile, when I tell English people that I speak Welsh? It's some variant on a scoff, and the sentiment "Why? What's the point? Bit useless, isn't it?"
By a country mile. That's the reaction I expect, and brace for, and is overwhelmingly what I get.
So when someone who isn't Welsh actually chooses to learn Welsh?
Imagine what that feels like! To go from not-even-hidden disgust, from outright mockery and often active suppression campaigns, to a foreigner earnestly telling me that they love and respect my language so much they're trying to learn it. Imagine how that feels.
Please learn Welsh. Please learn it. We will love you for it. We will build you a statue. We will bake little Welshcakes with your face on in icing sugar. We will write you poems in complex rhyme. We'll name an Eisteddfod prize after you. We'll name at least, like, three sheep after you. Thank you, thank you so much for even wanting to learn. You're a delight and a marvel and a wonder. Your hair looks great today, as it does all days. You're a strong, independent human being of immense wisdom and compassion. If this were a Welsh myth you'd be a wise salmon the heroes came to for advice. What a fantastic human.
The welcome awaits if you choose to learn
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kwanisms · 7 months
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» ateez masterlist | collab masterlist «
➮ yunho × fem!Reader
wc: 21.4k
summary: All throughout her formative years, Y/N has always harbored a bit of a crush on her best friend’s brother, Yunho. Having not seen him for years, she doesn’t expect those feelings to come back when she joins the Jeong’s on a family trip to a cabin in the Alps for the holiday. When she meets Yunho and his girlfriend, she’s hopeful that she can finally move on.
genres/themes/au: angst (if you squint really hard), fluff, smut; holiday travel, holiday, best friend’s brother; non idol au, holiday au, best friend’s brother au, friends to lovers au
warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, thoughts of infidelity (no actual cheating), physical injury, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!
special tags: @millennial-fangirl @twisted-tales-of-all @staytinyville @skyechild
permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @surveilenceysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @plutoneu @prestineaugstine @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3 @tigerhoshi25 @chocolate-scoups @spilled-coffee-cup @aaniag @ayoo-bangtan @walkingtravesty97 @yevene
ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @starlitmark @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina
join my taglists: permanent | group
Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.
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AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: here I am with the kick off to this holiday collab! I had a fun time writing this and really enjoyed how it turned out. She's kind of lengthy but are we really surprised? That's pretty on point for me lmao Thank you so much for reading and if you like this please consider reblogging! Also make sure to check out the others as they come out! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
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smut warnings: lots of heavy petting, unprotected sex (wrap it up), fingering (f receiving), size kink, praise kink, use of pet names (baby, angel, kitten, etc), choking kink (f receiving), daddy kink, dirty talk, soft dom!Yunho, sub!Reader, Yunho is smitten, like head over heels for MC and she is too. They’re just obsessed with each other. If I missed anything please let me know!
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For most people, the one constant in their lives is their best friend and for you, it was no different. Meeting Yumi on the playground in elementary school would bring with it not only a friendship that would last but it would also bring with it your first love.
Yumi was the middle of three children. She had a younger brother, Gunho, who always annoyed her whenever you came over, wanting to join in on whatever the two of you were doing. Typical kid brother stuff she told you. Gunho wasn’t as insufferable as Yumi made him out to be and he was nice enough so you weren’t really that bothered by his presence.
Yumi also had an older brother, Yunho. He was in middle school the first time you met him, though you and Yumi weren’t that far behind him. Yunho was polite and friendly towards you while simultaneously teasing and taunting Yumi, something she said was also typical brother behavior.
You first realized you had a crush on Yunho when you started middle school and saw him in the hallways between classes. You could feel it whenever he smiled or laughed at something his friends said, or the way he went out of his way to make sure you made it home safe before walking Yumi home.
Your crush on him blossomed and grew even into high school. Even when it became clear that he didn’t see you that way, you still hoped in the back of your mind that Yunho might notice you or that he felt the same way but then he graduated and was off to college.
You hoped that with him gone, you might finally be able to move on and for a bit, you did.
Until he came back from college for winter break. 
Seeing Yunho even more grown up stirred up all the old feelings you thought you’d buried, and you were reduced to a bumbling mess when you walked in on him, shirtless, in the kitchen in the middle of the night when you were looking to get a bottle of water.
As quickly as he came back, Yunho was gone again, off to college. When you graduated, you and Yumi chose to attend the same college, one Yunho didn’t go to. Another year and another winter break, Yunho returned once again bringing with him a girlfriend this time.
Seeing Yunho with someone who wasn’t you gave you the final push you needed to move on.
Or so you thought.
When Yumi asked you a week ago to join her family on a trip to the Swiss Alps as your family decided to spend the winter in the heat of Australia, it didn’t dawn on you that a family trip meant Yunho would be there too. You were mad at the way your body betrayed your years of repression, heart skipping a beat upon seeing him now, years later.
He’d matured into a very handsome man, taller than you remembered with broad shoulders. His hair had finally returned to its natural color after he experimented in college with bleach and bright colors. You fondly remembered the time he came home during break with bright blue hair and nearly gave his mother a heart attack. While you thought he looked good in any color, you’d always had a soft spot for his natural hair.
As you approached the group, you saw Yunho wasn’t alone.
He’d brought a new girlfriend who you learned was named Seomi.
You smiled politely when you greeted the pair and had you been paying attention at all, you would have noticed the way Yunho’s eyes lingered a little longer on you as you turned to greet your best friend’s parents. It had been some time since you’d seen the brothers and even Gunho had grown up and was starting to look a lot like Yunho, tall but not as tall as the giant of the family.
The flight to Zurich was a long one and thankfully, you had one layover in Istanbul which was an experience in itself but after a few hours, you were back on a plane bound for Switzerland. The first flight, you sat between Yumi and Gunho but the second flight had you seated next to Yunho by the window while Seomi had the aisle seat.
To say it was awkward was the understatement of the century. You spent most of that leg of the flight trying to sleep or listening to music downloaded to your phone. Whatever you could do to avoid speaking to or looking at Yunho.
Arriving in Zurich made you feel like you were part of a traveling circus; Yumi lost her luggage, Gunho left his carry-on in the overhead compartment and had to go back for it, Seomi misplaced her passport but found it in Yunho’s bag. It felt like you and your best friend’s parents were the only ones who had it together.
From Zurich, you were to take a bus to the village of Siebnen. The bus ride was mostly quiet, the sun coming up as you drove through the empty streets and slowly made your way out of the city. The village was at the base of the Alps and you’d never seen such tall mountains before.
The sight of the perpetually snow capped mountains looming over the city as the bus headed closer and closer to the next stop had you more and more excited for the trip. You were practically bouncing in your seat next to Yumi who was taken aback by your sudden enthusiasm.
Once you reached the village, your travel group disembarked from the bus and made your way to a car rental place to pick up a van to take up the mountain roads. You were in the very back with Yumi and Gunho with Yunho and Seomi in the middle seats.
The ride up the mountain was just as exciting for you as the bus ride had been and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring out the window, taking in the grandeur of it all. The rolling farmland was interspersed with forests as the road wound up the side of the mountain, climbing higher and higher as the road got steeper.
As you passed a small farm, you were whisper-shouting to your best friend about the cute sheep when the van turned onto a road that led into a vast forest. The forest grew more and more dense as you climbed even higher still. There were remnants of snow from the most recent winter storm and before you could ask how much longer, the van turned onto a dirt road, driving a little slower.
You twisted in your seat, trying to catch a glimpse of the lodge where you were to be staying. Yumi’s family had rented a massive lodge for ten days and you’d only learned during the layover that Yumi’s extended family would be there as well. 
It dawned on you that this would be your first time meeting her cousins, aunts, and uncles.
As the van rolled to a stop, you were far beyond the reaches of your normal excitement as Yunho and Seomi first climbed out, followed by Gunho, Yumi, and finally you were the last to be let out, stumbling as your foot caught on one of the seatbelts. Yunho managed to catch you before you went down.
“Whoa,” he said, chuckling. “Someone is excited.”
“Sorry,” you mumbled, making him chuckle again. “Don’t apologize for almost falling,” he replied. “Just be careful,” he added with a wink. You thanked him again and awkwardly scurried away to join the others at the back of the van to collect your luggage.
The lodge was mostly empty, save for a few family members. You followed Yumi to the room you would be sharing for the next ten days which happened to be next to the room Yunho and Seomi were sharing. On the other side of their room was the room where one of Yumi’s aunt and uncle were staying.
Once you had dropped off your luggage, Yumi dragged you down to the main living area to meet the rest of her family. Her aunt and uncle were on her maternal side and they had three kids as well. 
The eldest was a girl with waist length hair named Haneul. Yumi had told you she was in college. The middle child was a boy named Jun-seo who was in high school, wore glasses and carried his Nintendo switch everywhere. The youngest was in his last year of elementary school and his name was Ju-won.
You greeted them politely but the moment Yunho introduced Seomi, all attention was on her and you were able to breathe easily. You hated attention more than anything and now that the attention was on someone else, you felt a lot better. At least until dinner.
Attention was divided with some focusing on Seomi and wanting to know every little detail about her and Yunho’s relationship while a few were more interested in Yumi’s best friend from childhood. You answered all the questions thrown at you despite feeling like a blinding spotlight was on you.
The next day brought with it more snow and more family.
This time from Yumi’s father’s side. His sister and her husband and their two kids. Twin boys named Kang-min and Jang-min. You learned they were around your age and while being nearly identical, they had vastly different views, opinions, and interests. Kang-min was more the quiet type. He loved sports and academics and was a model student in college. After graduation, he found work as a nutritionist.
Jang-min on the other hand was much louder, more boisterous, and loved a good party. He landed a job as a journalist, writing for an advice column. His interests were more in the home. He loved to cook and bake, and you learned when he had a little too much wine, he got overly friendly.
You found him to be very funny and found his shameless flirting harmless.
Everyone else thought it was kind of funny, too. Well, almost everyone.
Yunho made his distaste of Jang-min’s actions known pretty quickly when he noticed Jang-min’s hand lingering on your knee a little too long. He didn’t even hide it, instead calling his cousin out in front of the whole family.
“Is it really appropriate for you to be touching her like that?” he asked his cousin as the latter leaned against you, his hand perched on your knee as he laughed at a joke you made. The laughter subsided almost instantly and Jang-min looked at his cousin with wide eyes.
“What?” he asked. Yunho glared at the younger man. “Just keep your hands to yourself,” he retorted. “She’s not your family. You can’t just touch people like that.” You felt your heart sink, not for yourself but for Jang-min who recoiled, crossing his arms over his chest immediately.
“Yunho,” his mother chastised. “Jang-min didn’t do anything wrong,” she continued. “And Y/N didn’t say anything about it bothering her,” Yumi added, turning to look at you. “Was it bothering you or making you uncomfortable?” she asked softly. You shook your head. “No,” you replied.
“Jang-min’s just a touchy person. I get like that sometimes when I drink,” you added.
Yunho said nothing, instead excused himself and got up from the circle, heading upstairs, Seomi on his heels.
That wasn’t the first time Yunho had told off one of his cousins for getting too close to you. He did the same thing a couple days later. The parents had all gone to bed as had the young ones leaving you, Yumi, Yunho, Seomi, the twins, Haneul, and Gunho sitting around the fire pit outside on the patio.
Instead of wine, Yumi and Haneul had gotten into the liquor stash and made drinks while the others had opted to drink beer. After Jang-min had gotten another scolding from Yunho for his behavior, the younger man had picked a spot furthest from where you sat, putting you between Gunho and Yumi. You were nursing your drink when Haneul spoke up.
“Why don’t we play a game,” Haneul said, looking around the circle. You glanced at Yumi who nodded. “What did you have in mind?” she asked excitedly. “I swear if you say Truth or Dare, I’m out of here,” Yunho grumbled, Seomi flashing him a smile.
“Truth or Dare is so juvenile,” she added with a nod. You looked away from them to Haneul who seemed to be deep in thought. “What about Paranoia?” you offered, regretting it the moment seven pairs of eyes landed on you. “What’s that?” Kang-min asked, leaning forward to see you better around his twin.
“It’s a party game,” Jang-min answered quickly. “You sit in a circle and one person whispers a question into another person’s ear and then that person has to answer the question out loud for everyone to hear. It has to be a question about someone in the group like ‘who do you think gives the best hugs’ or something similar. And then if you want to find out the answer, you have to drink and then ask. If the person doesn’t want to tell you the question, they also have to drink,” he explained.
“Sounds complicated,” Kang-min murmured. You wracked your brain for another game. “Oh!” Yumi said quickly. “What about Ring of Fire?” You let out a laugh. You knew all too well what Ring of Fire was as you had both played it a lot back in college. “If we want to play that, we’re gonna need to go inside,” you reminded her. “We have to sit at the table.”
Yunho glanced up at you and then to his sister. “I’m down,” he replied, looking at Seomi. “You want to go in? It is kinda getting cold out here.” Seomi nodded. “Yeah,” she answered. “Let’s go in.”
Once the fire had been dealt with, the group moved inside, sitting around the table while you and Yumi worked to set up the game. You found a pack of cards in one of the end tables in the living room while Yumi hunted for a large cup. Once you had your supplies, you started setting up.
“Has anyone played this before?” Yumi asked as she set the cup in the center. You noticed everyone shaking their heads as you cut the deck and set the cards in piles face down around the cup in the center. “Everyone is going to need full drinks,” you explained.
There was a brief pause as everyone grabbed refills. Once they were all sitting back down, you and Yumi took turns explaining the rules of the game.
“If you draw an Ace, that’s ‘waterfall.’ Going around the circle clockwise,” Yumi explained, drawing a circle in the air with her finger. “Each player starts drinking their drink consecutively and you have to keep going until the player before you stops.”
“If you draw a two of any suit, that’s the ‘you’ card. You point at someone else to take a drink. Likewise, if you draw the three of any suit, that’s the ‘me’ card and you have to take a drink,” you continued. Yumi nodded and continued the explanation. “If someone draws a four, that’s the ‘girls’ card and all girls have to take a drink.”
“That’s kind of sexist,” Haneul complained but Seomi waved her off. “It’s just a game,” she replied. “Five is the ‘thumb master.’ Whoever draws this card has to discreetly put their thumb up which everyone has to copy. The last person with their thumb up has to take a drink,” Yumi continued.
“How many rules are there?” Kang-min asked. “As many types of cards there are,” Yumi said with a shrug. “Six is the ‘boys’ card and all boys have to take a drink. Seven is the ‘heaven’ card, which is similar to thumb master only you have to point up to the sky. Last one to do it has to drink,” you continued.
“What’s eight?” Seomi asked. “Eight is ‘mate,’” Yumi answered. “What’s that?” Seomi asked, tilting her head to the side like a curious puppy. “You pick someone to be your ‘mate,’” you answered. “If you have to drink, so do they for the rest of the game.”
You didn’t miss the way Seomi flashed Yunho a mischievous grin.
“Nine is the ‘rhyme’ card: if you draw this card, you have to pick a word and then we go around the table and everyone has to come up with a word that rhymes with that word. Ten is the ‘category’ card. You pick a category and everyone has to name something in that category, anyone who can’t come up with something for either nine or ten has to drink,” you added.
“Okay, so what is Jack?” Yunho asked, looking up at you. “Make a rule,” Yumi answered. “You get to make up a rule or forfeit that has to be obeyed throughout the game. It’s sort of a power card,” she explained. “And Queen?” Yunho asked again, his eyes still on you. “Question Master,” Yumi answered quickly. “You have to ask the others questions and they have to answer with a question. Whoever doesn’t answer with a question has to drink.”
Yunho nodded, eyes still on you. “And what about King?” he asked. “Fill up the cup,” you answered, nodding at the cup in the middle. “Pour some of your drink into the glass and whoever draws the fourth king has to chug the entire contents.”
Yunho’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Okay,” he said, sitting up and looking down at the cards in front of him.
“Let’s play.”
The first round was a mess, trying to re-explain the rules of the game each time a card was drawn that you resorted to writing the rules down for each person who asked for clarification. The second round was a lot better. You drew a six and laughed, pointing at Jang-min who playfully glared at you as he took a drink.
When it got to Yunho, he pulled the 8 of diamonds. Seomi glanced up at him, expecting him to pick her but was surprised when Yunho instead picked you. “Now you have to drink every time Yunho does,” Yumi said as Seomi picked up a card. She drew a two of Hearts and immediately pointed at you.
You raised your glass and took a drink without complaint. Yumi had mixed something together and it tasted amazing. It was so good you weren’t sure if there was even any alcohol in it. “Your turn Kang-min!” Seomi said, positively beaming as she smiled at him.
Kang-min drew the first King of the night, grimacing as he reached over to pour some of his beer into the glass. “Ugh, this is gonna be so gross,” Gunho said when he pulled a king from a different pile and poured some of his drink into the cup.
Haneul drew a ten of Clubs and pondered for a moment before calling out her category. “Christmas movies!” she said excitedly, turning to look at Yumi. “Elf,” Yumi answered, turning to you. “Jingle All the Way,” you said softly. Gunho said Miracle on 34th Street and it continued back around to you.
“Die Hard,” you blurted out. Seomi pointed at you. “Drink! That’s not a Christmas movie!” she said excitedly. “Yes it is,” you replied. Seomi shook her head. “No it’s not! It’s an action movie,” she argued. “That takes place during Christmas,” you added. “It’s a Christmas movie.”
Seomi turned to Yunho for help but he merely shrugged. “She’s got a point,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s also listed as a Christmas movie on Hulu,” Jang-min offered. “It’s your turn Gunho,” Yunho said, looking at his younger brother. “Home Alone,” he said without hesitation. “Nightmare Before Christmas,” Yunho said, turning to Seomi who hesitated.
She took too long because Yumi, Jang-min and Haneul all pointed at her. “Drink!” they said in unison. Seomi begrudgingly took a drink and glared at Yumi who shrugged. “Them’s the rules,” she said, unphased. “It’s just a game, babe,” Yunho said softly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
The next couple rounds had Gunho pulling thumb master, Yunho drawing the Me card which you had to drink with him. Yumi drew the third king and poured half of what remained in her cup into the center cup. You held your breath as you drew a card and sighed with relief at the little nine looking back at you.
“Nine,” you announced, flashing the card. You pondered for a moment, trying to come up with a good word to make everyone rhyme with. “Dime,” you said, looking at Gunho who stared at you. “Like, the currency?” he asked, making sure he heard you right. You nodded. “Lime,” he continued, turning to Yunho. “Crime,” he stated, turning to Seomi. “Grime,” she said, looking you directly in the eye.
“Chime,” Jang-min chirped, turning to his twin. “I’m,” he said, looking proud of himself. “Mime,” Haneul said excitedly, turning to Yumi. “Prime!” Yumi shouted, apologizing when several shushed her. “Climb,” you said, turning to Gunho. “Rhyme,” he said smugly. Yunho chuckled and shook his head. “Sublime,” he continued. “Time,” Seomi said quickly.
It continued back around to you. “Thyme,” you said softly. “The herb,” you added. “Lyme,” Gunho said. “Like the disease,” he clarified, making you and Yumi burst into laughter. Yunho fought the urge to laugh as he stammered out “slime.” It fell to Seomi again who froze. “Oh shit,” she cursed softly, lifting her glass to take a drink. “We kind of exhausted all the options,” Jang-min said with a laugh.
Gunho pulled the eight of clubs and pointed at Yunho. “Doesn’t that mean whenever I drink, Yunho and Y/N have to drink?” he asked, looking past you at Yumi. “Like a chain reaction or something?” Yumi nodded. “It does!” she answered. “Sorry Y/N,” she added with a smirk.
When it came around to you again, you luckily pulled the eight of Hearts and smirked at your best friend. “Alright, mate,” you said with an evil grin. Yumi groaned loudly. “I knew you’d do that,” she grumbled as Gunho pulled the three of Diamonds. “Alright drinking buddies, let’s go,” he said, taking a drink. Yunho followed, as did you, then Yumi.
Yunho pulled the four of Spades and laughed maniacally. “You have to drink twice, Yumi,” he said, sticking his tongue out at his sister. She glared at him but did as he said. Seomi pulled her card and stared at it for a solid six seconds before Yunho glanced at it and gasped.
“She pulled the last king,” he said softly. “Oh… looks like you gotta chug the drink in the middle!” Jang-min said excitedly while Kang-min looked on with mild curiosity and disgust. Seomi took a deep breath but as she reached for the cup, Yunho took it instead. “I’ll drink it for her,” he said, lifting the glass. “She’s got a weak stomach. I don’t want you getting sick,” he added in a soft tone, looking at her.
Yunho downed the contents quickly, grimacing as he set the glass down. “Alright,” he said, coughing. “Is that game?” he asked, looking around. You glanced at Yumi who looked back and shrugged. “We could keep going,” she suggested. “Until all the cards are gone.”
You shook your head. “Let’s just call it there,” you suggested. “The King’s cup is gone,” you added. “We could always shuffle the king cards back in,” Jang-min suggested but you shook your head. “It’s okay,” you said as Seomi started to get up. “Let’s call it a night. We have plans tomorrow anyway,” Yumi said.
The group split up, heading to their respective rooms to get ready for bed.
The next morning, Yumi woke you up early so you could shower before the trip into the nearby town. According to her, it was a small picturesque town, already decorated for the holidays. You both dressed in silence, heading down to the dining room for breakfast.
Yunho was already sitting at the table, Seomi sitting next to him with her arms crossed over her chest, a slight pout on her face. “Morning,” Yumi said as she took a seat, leaving an open seat next to Yunho. Rather than taking it, you sat on the other side of your best friend.
It didn’t take long for the rest of the family to join you, Haneul sitting beside you while Gunho took the seat between his sister and brother. Breakfast went by in mostly silence as everyone was still waking up and eating. After eating, you followed Yumi back up to the room to finish getting ready for the day.
Once everyone was ready, you all piled into the vans outside and headed for the village. The drive down didn’t take that long and soon, you were looking out the windows, catching glimpses of the architecture, roofs blanketed in snow, and holiday decorations everywhere.
You were in the very back again, this time with Yunho and Seomi while Gunho and Yumi sat in the middle seats. Yunho sat in the middle, you on his left, and Seomi to his right. You opted to stare out the window the whole time as to not stare at Yunho or make eye contact.
Last night, the way he stared at you while you explained the rules of the game stirred something inside you and you didn’t really want to revisit whatever it was that was coming back to life inside. Not to mention the way your heart jumped into your throat every time his thigh brushed against yours on the bumpy mountain road.
Once you were in town, vans parked, You scrambled out with the others and gathered around so the older adults could explain the rules. You were allowed to go off on your own and explore but everyone was to meet up for lunch at a specific location. Once this was explained, you were free to go off on your own. You took off with Yumi, Haneul tagging along so she didn’t have to go with her brothers or with the twins and Gunho. Yunho and Seomi obviously went off on their own and you were able to breathe easily.
Yumi ended up dragging you and Haneul to a little boutique that caught her eye and although there was nothing you were interested in, it was still fun to watch Yumi and Haneul shop and try things on. After the boutique, you wanted to step into a shop full of crystals and glass to check it out. There was even a demonstration of glass blowing near the back that you couldn’t seem to pull yourself from.
Eventually Yumi and Haneul dragged you away and the next shop you stumbled into was a jewelry shop. You were looking at the necklaces with Haneul when you heard her gasp slightly. You looked up and followed her line of sight, spotting what she saw.
Yunho and Seomi.
The latter was looking at rings and you felt your heart stop, bile in your stomach rising as you tasted something sour in the back of your throat. You looked away, not wanting to witness whatever was going on over there as Haneul waved frantically at Yumi, drawing her over so she could point.
Yumi stared in awe before grabbing both you and Haneul and dragged you out of the shop onto the sidewalk to peer through the window. “Is Yunho going to propose?” Haneul asked softly as she stared into the shop. Yumi shook her head. “I have no idea. I don’t even know how long they’ve been dating,” she answered. “It can’t have been long because I’ve never heard about her before.”
You tore your gaze from the couple inside the shop, your eyes landing on a bookstore nearby. “Hey,” you said softly, tapping your best friend on the shoulder. “Isn’t the twins’ birthday coming up soon?” you asked. Yumi turned to look at you. “Yeah. Which reminds me, I need to get them gifts.”
You pointed at the bookstore. “Kang-min likes books, right?” you asked. Yumi nodded. “Yeah, mainly manga but he also likes horror books,” she answered. “Let’s go in there. Let Yunho and Seomi have their privacy,” you suggested. The other two thankfully listened and the three of you headed across the busy street to the bookstore.
After the bookstore, the three of you stopped by a small courtyard with all kinds of statues. Yumi wanted to take some pictures and you obliged as the three of you squeezed together to fit in the camera’s view. As the day wore on, your stomach started to rumble and Haneul complained of being hungry. Checking her watch, Yumi saw that it was almost 1 pm and looked at her phone.
“We should probably head for the restaurant,” she said softly. The three of you headed back, walking down the busy sidewalk, chatting. It was mostly Haneul and Yumi chatting as you couldn’t get the image of Yunho and Seomi in the jewelry shop out of your head.
You thought you were past this. The fluttering of your heart when he was around was one thing, but getting so jealous it made you nauseous was another thing entirely. You’d never once felt that way before. It made you wonder what was wrong with you. Yunho wasn’t yours and he never would be but you still couldn’t let go of these feelings.
“Y/N?” you heard Yumi’s voice pull you from your thoughts. “You alright?” she asked. The two of them had stopped and were looking at you with concern. “I’m okay,” you murmured. “Just feeling a little nauseous,” you added. “You want to go back to the lodge?” Yumi asked. You shook your head.
“I’m sure it’ll go away when I eat.”
You didn’t want to ruin the trip because of your unbridled jealousy so for the sake of your best friend, you’d swallow it and suck it up. You’d have to at some point.
The restaurant was a cozy place with a lot of nordic patterns. The three of you were shown to a backroom where the rest of the family was already gathered. The only three seats left were between Yunho and Jang-min. Before you could ask Haneul to switch you, she sat down next to her cousin while Yumi took the seat next to her.
‘Fuck.’
You moved and sat between your best friend and her brother, trying not to look at him.
Immediately, you picked up your menu and looked over the options. “What’re you gonna get?” you heard a voice ask. Looking up, you met Yunho’s gaze. “I’m not sure yet,” you replied softly, turning your gaze back to the menu. “Maybe the chicken.”
“Chicken is always a good choice,” Yunho murmured with a nod as he looked over his own menu. I might get that too,” he added. You said nothing, instead looking at the menu as if you hadn’t decided yet. You were just trying to avoid conversation or eye contact with the man next to you.
When the server arrived, you took turns ordering your food and drinks. Once the menus were taken away, everyone fell into comfortable conversation. Everyone except you.
“So Y/N,” a voice said, snapping you from your thoughts.
You looked up to see half the table’s eyes were on you. The speaker was Haneul, Jun-seo, and Juwons mother. “How long have you known Yumi?” she asked. You turned to your best friend before looking back. “Since we were in elementary school,” you answered. “We’ve been friends for years.”
“What do you do for work?”
You sat there, answering mundane questions about your life, letting the family get to know you a little more. Most of the questions were tame, consisting of inquiries about your work, your life growing up, your friendship with Yumi. Until someone brought up a question that made you want to sink into the floor.
“And you aren’t seeing anyone?”
You thought you felt Yunho tense up beside you but it had to have been your imagination. You shook your head. “She’s been on a few dates here and there since college,” Yumi offered, trying to take the attention off you. “But she hasn’t met the right person yet.”
You were thankful when the conversation shifted to talk about Yumi’s love life, or lack thereof. You had settled back down in your seat and were patiently waiting for your food to arrive so you had an excuse to not answer anymore questions.
“Are you okay?” you heard Yunho ask softly. Looking up, you met his gaze and nodded wordlessly, looking away from him. “I’m fine,” you lied with a forced smile. Whether or not Yunho bought your act you wouldn’t know because before he could respond, the server returned with a few others, bringing your plates out.
The arrival of the food meant most of the party was eating rather than talking. It was a nice reprieve and you hoped soon that you could return to the lodge and call it a day. Seomi and Yunho were speaking in hushed tones before Yunho shook his head and Seomi got up, excusing herself to go to the bathroom. Yunho excused himself and got up to follow.
You exchanged glances with Yumi who shrugged and went back to her food, you following her lead not long after. Yunho returned moments later and sat back down, looking mildly annoyed at something. You took it upon yourself to check on him this time.
“Everything alright?” you asked softly, making sure not to draw any attention. Yunho gave you a smile and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said just as softly. “It’s nothing,” he added. You chose not to push it and resumed picking at your food, most of your appetite having left soon after your food arrived.
“You want to get it to go?” Yumi asked as the server eventually returned with the check and to go boxes. You nodded and thanked her as she handed you a box. You said nothing as you scooped your mostly uneaten chicken pasta into the box and closed the lid, setting the plate aside and waiting for the group to start making its way to the exit.
Seomi finally returned and declined to take her leftovers, leaving her meal mostly uneaten at the table.
Once the bill was settled, you followed the group out the door, Yumi at your side and slowly made your way back to the parking lot where the vans were sitting. The ride back out of town and to the lodge was quiet and you chose to sit in the middle seat with Yumi while Yunho, Seomi, and Gunho sat in the back.
Upon arriving back at the lodge, you followed Yumi inside, putting your food in the fridge and headed upstairs to shed your layers and put on some more comfortable clothes. Once you were done, you joined the group downstairs as they sat near the fireplace while Mr. Jeong got a fire going.
You watched the younger boys play before Mrs. Jeong and Haneul’s mother called out that the hot chocolate was ready. Yumi offered to get you a mug but you declined before telling your best friend you had to use the bathroom. On your way to the room, you passed Yunho and Seomi’s room and heard them arguing in hushed tones. You weren’t sure what was being said but you didn’t stick around, walking to the bathroom and shutting the door quickly.
After finishing your business, you opened the door and bumped into Seomi who glared at you. “Watch where you’re going,” she snapped. Before she could push past you into the bathroom you stopped her. “Then don’t stand in the middle of the door when I open it like some sort of creep,” you snapped back and walked past her, passing Yunho who stared at you as you walked by.
You didn’t see the way he looked after you as you reached the top of the stairs before you headed back down, nor did you see the way he glared at Seomi. Back downstairs, you took up your previous spot beside Yumi. “Everything okay?” Yumi murmured as you grabbed the blanket on her lap and pulled some of it over you while nodding.
Soon, the parents were rounding everyone up to play charades. You were put on a team with Yumi, Yunho, Seomi, Gunho, and Mr. and Mrs. Jeong. You weren’t entirely in the game and after the first round, you excused yourself, getting up and heading upstairs with the excuse that you had a headache.
Only a few minutes later, Yumi joined you, asking once again if you were okay. You lied and said you were and that you just wanted to rest and get some shut eye because of your headache. She offered to get you some water and aspirin which you thanked her for.
Once you took the medicine and drank some of the water, you settled down in your bed and closed your eyes, drowning out the sound of excited yelling downstairs.
At some point, you passed out and when you awoke, your phone told you it was nearly midnight. You heard Yumi groan as she rolled over. “Really? This is a family vacation,” you heard her grumble in the dark. It was then you were made aware of the squeaking sounds and slight knocking that you assumed was from a bedframe hitting the wall and you felt your stomach churn.
It sounded like it was coming from the next room over which was… Yunho and Seomi’s room.
“Gross,” Yumi grumbled. You pulled back the covers and got up slowly. Yumi turned over and looked at you from the moonlight filtering between the curtains. “Where are you going?” she asked suspiciously. “Water,” you croaked, grabbing your empty glass and got up, pushing open the door and shutting it behind you out of respect.
In the hall the sounds were a little louder and you hurried down to the first floor, trying not to imagine what exactly was happening in the room next to yours only to freeze upon seeing Yunho standing in the kitchen, light from the fridge illuminating his figure. He turned and noticed you standing in the darkness.
“Hey,” he said softly. You forced yourself to move, walking around him to the sink. “I thought you were…” you trailed off as he grabbed the milk out of the fridge and moved to pour some over his cereal sitting on the counter. He put the carton back and shut the door before moving to turn on the light over the sink. “Thought I was what?” he asked, grabbing a spoon and sitting at the counter.
You shook your head and moved to get some ice from the fridge. “I heard noises,” you admitted. Yunho snorted and you turned to face him. “That’s coming from my aunt and uncle’s room,” he admitted. It woke me up and so I thought I’d come down here and have some cereal,” he added.
“Hoped they might be done by the time I finish and head back.”
You nodded and turned away to get some water. Silence fell over the two of you as you sipped on your water and Yunho ate his cereal. Finally he spoke, breaking the tension. “You’ve really grown up,” he muttered and you looked up to find him staring down at his bowl.
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he added with a chuckle. “I was going to say your boyfriend is a lucky guy until it was revealed earlier that you don’t have one,” he continued. You said nothing instead holding your glass firmly as he continued to eat his cereal.
The only sounds that could be heard were the heater working to keep the house warm, the crunch of Yunho’s cereal and the slight squeaking and knocking coming from upstairs. “You really don’t have a boyfriend?” he asked finally, looking up. You shook your head.
“No,” you replied.
More silence followed your admission. You fought the urge to add that no man ever compared to him but you knew that would be crossing a line and you could never come back from that. Better to just let it go and move on. Let him propose to Seomi in peace and move on with his life and be happy.
He deserved that.
“What about a girlfriend?” he asked, throwing you completely off guard. He looked up to meet your gaze. You stared back at him in stunned silence. ‘Girlfriend? Did he think you were…?’ You shook your head. “N-no,” you replied. Yunho shrugged. “I wouldn’t judge you if you did,” he added.
You shook your head more firmly. “No,” you replied. “It’s not like that,” you continued. “I’m just not interested in anyone right now.”
‘Anyone who isn’t you.’
“Oh.” Yunho said, getting up from his seat. He’d finished his cereal and the sounds upstairs had finally subsided. How long had you been standing there in silence? How much time had passed since you came downstairs?
Yunho stopped in front of you, reaching around to place his bowl in the sink. “So there’s really no one?” he asked softly. You shook your head, looking up at him. He smiled softly. “Good,” he said firmly, making you tilt your head slightly.
“Boys suck,” he added and you couldn’t help but laugh at this. It was a sound Yunho hadn’t heard in a long time. A sound that he didn’t realize he missed dearly. How much of a fool he’d been for trying to stay away from you these last few years.
“We saw you today,” you blurted out suddenly, taking both yourself and Yunho by surprise.
“Saw me?” he asked. “Where?”
You’d already blurted it out, you might as well be honest.
“In a jewelry shop,” you answered. “Yumi wanted to look at something in there and we saw you and Seomi. She was looking at rings…” your voice trailed off. Yunho stared at you, unable to read your expression. “I was looking for a gift for my mother for Christmas,” he admitted.
You suddenly felt very small and stupid for saying anything. “Of course,” you answered. “Sorry for assuming,” you said softly before downing your water and turning away. Yunho grabbed your arm gently. “Seomi assumed as much, too,” he admitted. “She thought we were there for that as well.”
You looked down at his hand gently but firmly holding your arm. “That’s why she was looking at rings but I told her I wasn’t planning on proposing any time soon and that I was there to buy a gift for my mother, and that’s when she got upset. That’s why she was so distant at lunch,” he added.
You nodded silently. He didn’t need to tell you any of this. Why was he telling you this? Yunho let go of your arm. “Sorry,” he apologized suddenly. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” he added. “Maybe it’s because I’ve always felt comfortable with you.”
You glanced up at him, finding him already staring down at you, the dim light over the sink casting him in a low glow. “I’ve always found it easy to talk to you,” he added, stepping closer and closing the distance between you, trapping you against the counter.
“I’ve always felt like I could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge me,” he explained softly, resting his hands against the edge of the counter on either side of your waist. “Like I could be myself and you’d accept me.” Your heart was hammering in your chest, blood pounding in your ears and almost drowning out his words.
Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned closer, his lips inches from yours.
A door opening upstairs broke the silence and Yunho took a step back immediately. “I should probably get back to bed,” he said as he turned away from you. “We have a busy day tomorrow,” he added. You watched as he turned to glance back at you before turning away and heading for the stairs, leaving you in the kitchen clutching your water glass as you stared after him.
‘What the fuck just happened?’
——————————————————————————————————————————
The following morning was the ski trip and you were dreading going to begin with. You weren’t the best with athletic activities, especially in the snow but Yumi had begged and begged the night before while you lay in your beds until you finally caved.
Now as you were in the back of the van with Yumi and Haneul, you were regretting your decision and would have rather stayed at the lodge and done nothing. The ride to the ski lodge wasn’t far thankfully for those that wanted to go skiing but unfortunately for you.
You chose to try skiing with Yumi, Haneul, Yumi’s mother, and Haneul’s mother. Kang-min chose to ski instead of snowboarding with his brother and the others. As you strapped in, you glanced up to where Yunho was helping Seomi into her snowboard boots, making sure they fit.
You were finishing strapping your ski boots on when Yumi sat next to you. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” she asked, a little louder than you would have liked. Yunho and Kang-min both looked up. “You begged me to do this,” you hissed back. Yumi nodded thoughtfully. “And I’ve thought about it but I remembered you aren’t the most coordinated on snow or ice.”
You glared at her, cheeks burning. “It’s fine,” you hissed. “You begged me to come and now we’re here. I’m not backing down now and ruining the mood.”
You got up and walked over to the instructor to get your skis. You weren’t sure why all of the sudden Yumi was asking if you wanted to do this when she was begging you the night before.
Once everyone had the correct gear and was ready, you headed outside and over to the lift that would take you to the top of the slopes. There was an orange partition between the two sides. One side was where the skiers were, to the right the more advanced skiers were flying down the hill whereas to the left, closest to the orange fencing, was where the beginners were.
On the snowboarding side it was almost the same set up but mirrored. You rode the lift up with Yumi and Haneul, holding onto your ski poles nervously as the lift climbed higher and higher. Behind you sat Yunho and Seomi with Gunho and in front of you was the twins and Haneul’s mother. 
Your best friend’s mother chose to stay at the lodge for the time being.
Once at the top, you scooted off the lift and awkwardly shambled over to the side to wait for the instructor. Kang-min skied over and stopped beside you. “You okay?” he asked softly. You nodded, staring at the slope. “Just take it little by little,” he offered.
“You will fall,” he added. “But it doesn’t hurt. The snow is really soft.” You watched as he patted the snow with his ski. “Very powdery. Good skiing conditions.” You smiled at him as the instructor finally arrived. You watched as he explained the basics and let Yumi and Kang-min go first.
“Go slowly,” the instructor said as you moved to the edge of the summit. “Take your time.” You finally took the plunge, pushing yourself over the edge and started sliding down the slope to the first stop. The instructor joined you, commending your form but telling you to uncross your skis.
You tried again, heading down to the next part, cursing as your skis crossed again.
This continued until you reached the bottom.
“You’re doing really well,” the instructor said. “But you keep crossing your skis,” he added with a chuckle. “It’s so weird to try and hold them straight,” you admitted. He nodded as he started towards the lift. “You wanna go again?” he asked.
You weren’t looking at him. Instead you were watching Jang-min slide down the slope next to the one you’d just skied down on his snowboard. “Could I switch?” you asked, turning your head. “Maybe snowboarding might be better for me.” The instructor nodded and beckoned you to follow him back to the lodge and inside where you removed your skis and boots. He brought over a pair of snow boots to check the fit before helping you lace them up and make sure they were snug.
Afterwards, he grabbed the snowboard and handed it to you. “You can put it on at the top,” he said before grabbing his own board, having also switched the skis out. The ride up was silent as you looked around. Yunho and Seomi were at the top, off to the side chatting. When you reached the top, you hopped off the lift and walked over to Jang-min who smiled at you.
“Changed your mind, eh?” he asked as you set the board down and stepped on, watching the instructor make sure your boots were secure. “I couldn’t keep my skis straight,” you admitted with a grimace. “You joined us?” Yunho asked, scooting up to the other side. You nodded as Seomi also joined. “Alright, you three go ahead. I’m sure she doesn’t want you watching her as she goes down,” the instructor said, waving them on.
You watched as they took turns. Jang-min went first and you could see he’d done this plenty of times before. Seomi went next, looking every bit as graceful as Yumi did on skis. Yunho went next, stopping at the peak to look back at you. He gave you a salute. “See you at the bottom!”
You watched as he went next and you were in awe. You had no idea Yunho was so skilled at snowboarding, pulling tricks you’d only ever seen on TV. You were suddenly very aware that it was your turn next. The instructor had you go first and you half expected to lose your balance and tumble but you were surprised how much easier this was than skiing.
It didn’t take you long to get the hang of it and soon you were zooming past the instructor as he laughed. “You’re a natural at this!” Jang-min complimented as you joined him at the base of the slope. He held up his hand for a high five and you reciprocated as the instructor checked his watch. “I have a class soon,” he announced, looking up at you. “Will you be alright on your own now?” he asked.
“Yeah, she’s got us,” Jang-min said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 
“We’ll keep an eye on her!”
And just like that, you were no longer in need of an instructor. You spent most of the time with Jang-min who was content to join you on the beginner slopes while Yunho and Seomi continued down the intermediate side. Kang-min eventually swapped his skis for a snowboard as well and joined the two of you, taking turns between you and Jang-min
Half the morning had gone by and you were really getting the hang of snowboarding. Yunho called break time and the group headed into the lodge for lunch, shedding your gear by the door. You ordered half a sandwich and a cup of soup, sitting next to Jang-min and Yumi as you excitedly told your success story to your best friend. “Maybe I’ll switch too,” she said with a smile.
“You’ve never even stepped foot on a snowboard,” Gunho said with a snort. Yumi glowered at him. “Neither had Y/N before today,” she snapped back. You nodded. “There’s no way I believe that,” Yunho said suddenly from the other side of the twins. “You’re a natural at this.”
Your cheeks grew warm at his compliments and you busied yourself with your soup. “She really is,” Kang-min chimed in, looking at you with a smile. “Skiing didn’t seem to be your strong suit but snowboarding definitely is.”
Heat spread from your cheeks to your ears at the sudden increase of praise thrown your way. Although you typically hated attention, you had to admit that it felt nice to be praised like this from time to time.
After eating, you sat by one of the fires, warming up while letting your food settle.
“I think Kang-min likes you,” Yumi said softly as she sat next to you. Glancing up at your best friend you knitted your brows together. “What?” you asked incredulously. She smirked at you, settling back in the seat beside you. “Kang-min. He’s been all over you today,” she said softly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” You shook your head slowly.
“Not really,” you admitted. You glanced over where Kang-min sat with his twin, playing a card game with Gunho and Yunho. You looked away quickly and turned back to your friend. “I’m sure he doesn’t,” you replied finally. Yumi shook her head. “He’s totally into you,” she whispered as Haneul walked over and sat on the ottoman in front of your chair.
“Who’s into who?” she whispered, looking between the two of you. Shaking your head, you tried to play it off but Yumi jumped at the chance to get a second opinion. “Kang-min,” she said flatly under her breath. “I’m pretty sure he’s into Y/N.” Haneul’s brows rose and she looked at you quickly.
“He is?” she asked, more to you than to your best friend. You shook your head. “I think Yumi is imagining things,” you replied. Your best friend groaned softly and turned to face you. “You want me to go ask him?” she asked and you slapped her leg. “No,” you hissed. “I don’t want you to ask your cousin if he’s into me. That’s so weird!” you hissed.
Yumi shrugged and looked at Haneul. “I don’t think it’s that weird but okay,” she replied.
After warming up for a bit, the group decided to head back out again. You pulled your gear back on, slipping into your feet into your boots. As you were lacing them up, Yunho knelt down by your feet. “Make this a little tighter,” he murmured, undoing your work and redoing the laces. “You want it to be completely tight and snug. Otherwise you could twist your ankle, get blisters, or even break your ankle” he explained.
“Th-thanks,” you murmured as he looked up at you with a smile. “No problem,” he said, getting up and heading outside. You stood up, following him with Jang-min and Kang-min behind you. You decided to ride up with the twins while Yumi and Haneul rode up behind you with Haneul’s mother.
At the top, you waited for Jang-min to go first before following him. You wanted to ease back into it so you went a little slower. Kang-min flew past you laughing as he made a beeline for his brother, making you chuckle as you finally reached the bottom. 
You headed back up, this time letting both Kang-min and Jang-min go first before you started down the hill with Yunho waiting at the top. You decided to go down the big slope like before and were gaining momentum when your eyes caught sight of something sticking out of the snow. Before you could evade, your board struck whatever it was and you went tumbling down with a yelp.
“Y/N!” you heard Kang-min yell. Your ankle was throbbing as you tried to roll over. “Y/N!” said a panicked voice. “Are you hurt?” You groaned in pain as they grabbed your arm and pulled you up into a sitting position. “My ankle,” you groaned, the pain shooting up your leg from your ankle.
You felt someone fumbling with your helmet before pulling it off. You looked up, squinting in the bright light at Yunho as he set your helmet aside and looked you over. “You didn’t hit your head did you?” he asked. You shook your head. His hands moved down to unclasp your boots from the snowboard.
“Where does it hurt?” he asked as Seomi came to a stop nearby. “Is she alright?” she asked. Yunho waved her to go on. “I got this, babe!” he called as he looked up at you. “Which ankle hurts?” You pointed to your right foot. Yunho was quick, calling for Kang-min and Jang-min to get your gear on their second pass down before unlatching his own snowboard.
“I’m gonna carry you down to the lodge,” he announced. “Come on.”
He knelt down, back facing you so you could climb on. You were hesitant but in the end, you leaned against his back, allowing him to pick you up and carry you on his back down the mountain. You heard Yumi call your name from the base of the ski slope and looked over.
“What happened?” she called as she made her way over. “She took a tumble,” Yunho called back. “I’m taking her inside.” Your cheeks burned as Yunho carried you into the lodge. You were carried inside and taken to the side where Yunho gently set you down and guided you to sit on one of the stools against the side wall. You did as he instructed, watching as he unlaced and carefully pulled your boot off.
Yumi had removed her gear and was moving to sit beside you as Yunho pulled your sock off. “Don’t you think a medic should look at her?” Kang-min asked, peering over his cousin’s shoulder at your ankle. “What do you think I went to school for?” Yunho huffed as he carefully rolled your ankle.
Seomi was standing nearby, arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t look happy.
“Without x-rays,” Yunho started as you winced. “I can’t say for certain but it seems to be sprained,” he said softly. He rolled your ankle in the opposite direction and you let out a whimper. “Sorry,” he said softly. “But it’s definitely sprained at the very least.
You watched as he pressed against the joint gingerly. “I don’t feel any popping,” he murmured. “Can you move it yourself?” he asked, smiling slightly when you were able to roll your ankle yourself. “It’s definitely not broken,” he finally said. “We’re gonna need to stabilize it,” he added. 
Jang-min hurried off to find an employee and ask for the first-aid kit. They returned and Yunho looked through it. “There’s nothing in here to stabilize it,” he murmured as he sifted through the contents. “Does it need to be stabilized?” Yumi asked as her brother looked around. He nodded.
“It really should be so she doesn’t hurt it any further,” he answered. “Will this work?” you heard Yumi’s mother ask and looked up as she pulled out a wooden stick from her purse. “It’s a back scratcher,” she explained. Yunho smiled up at his mother. “This is perfect,” he said. “Thanks, mom.”
You watched as Yunho worked, using the scratcher to stabilize your ankle, wrapping the joint with as much gauze as he could before taping it off and covering the whole thing with your sock. “She should probably go back to the lodge,” he added as he cleaned up his mess. “I can take her back,” he offered, looking up at Yumi who shook her head. “I’ll do it,” she replied.
“You should stay,” you interjected. “I don’t want you to miss out because of me,” you replied softly. Yumi waved her hand. “Nonsense,” she replied. “I don’t care. You’re my best friend. I’d be a horrible friend if I stayed while you went back to the lodge alone. Besides, I’m done skiing anyway,” she added.
Yumi turned to her mother who offered to drive back anyone who was done for the day. Haneul agreed to finish for the day as did her mother. The twins, Gunho, Seomi, and Yunho agreed to stay and Yunho would drive back when they were done.
Yunho helped you out to the van and to get in with Yumi’s help. “Don’t put any pressure on it until I can properly wrap it. Make sure to ice it for twenty minutes. Then put heat on it for twenty. Back and forth with the temperatures,” he instructed before closing the door and backing up to watch the van reverse.
You watched him until the van turned and he disappeared from your view. “Are you feeling okay?” Yumi’s voice asked softly from beside you. You turned to look at her and nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted. “It doesn’t hurt that much now.”
The ride back was silent as you stared out the window of the van, watching the scenery change and pass by. It felt like no time at all had passed when you were pulling up to the lodge. Yumi and Haneul very carefully helped you out of the van, helping you up the steps into the lodge and Yumi made sure you got upstairs to your shared room. Yumi took a shower first, cleaning off before coming out.
“The others are back so you might want to take your shower now before they do and all the hot water is gone,” she announced. You got up and limped over to the door with your toiletry bag, towels, and clean clothes. As you limped towards the bathroom door, the bedroom to Yunho and Seomi’s room opened and Seomi exited, glaring at you as she exited and walked down the hall with an annoyed huff, entering the bathroom and slamming the door.
You let out a sigh and started to turn back to the bedroom when Yunho appeared. “Oh, Seomi just went in there,” he said, noticing your toiletry bag and towels. You nodded. “I know,” you replied. “She rushed past me to get there,” you admitted. Yunho frowned at your words. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “You can go before me,” he offered. “Thanks,” you murmured and started to make your way back.
“How’s your ankle?” he asked, looking down. “S’okay,” you shrugged. “The gauze seems to be coming loose.” Yunho nodded silently, looking back up. “After your shower, I’ll wrap it again. We stopped on the way back to get some stuff from a pharmacy,” he explained. “Thanks,” you mumbled and limped back to your shared room with Yumi who frowned as you entered the room.
“I thought you were going to shower,” she said as you hobbled over to your bed and collapsed onto it. “Seomi beat me to it,” you muttered, rolling onto your side, facing the wall. “That bitch,” you heard your best friend grumble and rolled back to look at her. “I thought you liked her,” you said.
Yumi shrugged. “I did but when I saw the way she glared at you when Yunho was carrying you into the lodge, it just rubbed me the wrong way. And when I was walking back here, I could hear them arguing. It wasn’t very loud but I could still hear it,” she explained.
“Then you were in the hall, holding your bathroom stuff and she just walks in there cause she’s not slowed down by an injury. That makes her a bitch.” You snorted and rolled back to face the wall, closing your eyes. Maybe you would just wait until everyone else had gone so you wouldn’t be in the way.
You weren’t sure how much time passed before Yumi was gently shaking you awake. “Seomi is done in the shower,” she said softly. “And I think they’re fighting again so hurry up and get to the bathroom before someone else does.”
You scrambled to get up and hurried out of the room as fast as your ankle would let you, passing the door to Yunho and Seomi’s room which was ajar and like Yumi had said, you could hear them bickering back and forth. Seomi definitely sounded angry but Yunho was surprisingly calm.
You dared not stay and eavesdrop and instead hobbled down to the bathroom. You closed the door behind you and turned the lock before moving to start the shower and undress, unwrapping your ankle and setting the gauze and backscratcher aside before stepping into the scalding water with a sigh.
You went about your business, washing off the events of the day and allowing the hot water to soothe any aches and tense muscles in your body. After you were finished washing and you had rinsed the last of the conditioner from your hair, you stepped out of the shower, wrapped yourself in a towel and started to dry off.
You sat on the toilet, lid down, so you could dry off without putting unnecessary pressure on your swollen ankle. Once your body was dry, you pulled on your clean clothes, snatching up the dirty ones and carefully started to hobble back to your room.
Once inside, you tossed your dirty clothes in the hamper in the room and sat on the bed, starting to dry your hair with the extra towel. Yumi had disappeared, no doubt downstairs. You wondered if you should make the journey downstairs for dinner but one look at your ankle told you that was a bad idea.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knocking at the door. You turned as the door cracked open and Yunho peered in. “Is it okay to come in?” he asked and you nodded, watching as he pushed the door open further and came in, holding in his hand an ankle brace.
“I got this at the pharmacy,” he said as he moved to kneel in front of you. “You already got your socks on, good,” he noted as he carefully took your foot and inspected it. “Does it still hurt?” he asked, looking up at you. Shaking your head you looked down at his hands.
“Just when you put weight on it?” he asked. You nodded wordlessly. “Good,” he noted with a nod. “Means it’s not as severe as I initially thought.” You said nothing as he put the brace around your ankle, making sure to strap it tightly. “There,” he said softly. “You should have no problems walking,” he added as he looked up at you. “But just be careful. You should rest before dinner,” he continued.
You nodded silently as he got up and moved towards the door. “And sorry again about Seomi,” he added quietly. “Sometimes she’s… a little tough,” he said, hesitating for a moment. “Get some rest,” he repeated. “See you at dinner.”
You watched as he exited, pulling the door shut behind him.
You were left alone for only a moment when the door opened and Yumi entered, Haneul and Kang-min on her heels. “Are you okay?” Kang-min asked, sitting beside you on your bed. You nodded. “I’m fine,” you replied. “It’s just a little sore at this point.”
The four of you froze as you heard a slam next door followed by muffled shouting. Haneul moved to close the door, drowning out some of the noise. “I don’t think they’re gonna last,” Haneul murmured, moving to sit on Yumi’s bed. “And good riddance if they don’t,” Yumi muttered, drawing Haneul and Kang-min’s attention.
“I thought you liked her,” Haneul whispered, looking shocked. “I did until she cut Y/N in line for the shower,” Yumi grumbled. “She’s also weirdly overly possessive of Yunho. She got mad at Y/N because Yunho was carrying her after she got hurt,” Yumi explained. “Like, what did she want her to do? It’s not like Y/N could walk.” Their words fell to the back of your mind as you zoned out.
You were feeling tired from the events of the day and yawned. “Are you tired?” Haneul asked, noticing. “Do you want to nap?” Kang-min added. You nodded. “Yeah, sorry guys. I’m just really worn out.” Kang-min immediately got up as did Haneul and Yumi. “We’ll go talk outside. You get some rest. I’ll wake you up when dinner is ready,” she said softly as the other opened the door and exited.
You thanked Yumi and laid back down as she shut the light off and closed the door with a soft click. Not long after, you were out like the light.
Yunho closed the door and started for the stairs. He was getting sick of this. He was tired of the fighting and the arguments. And over what? Seomi wouldn’t even tell him why she was upset, only that she was and that it was his fault. How could he apologize for something if he didn’t even know what he did?
At first, he gave in and apologized the other night after the drinking game just to keep the peace but this time around, he wasn’t going to apologize until she told him why he was apologizing. He reached the bottom of the stairs and noticed Yumi, Haneul, the twins, and Gunho sitting outside around the firepit.
He walked over, pulling open the door and stepped out. Whatever conversation they were having died the moment he stepped outside. “I think I’m gonna help mom with dinner,” Haneul muttered, getting up and walking past Yunho and back inside. The twins exchanged looks and got up. “I think dad said something about needing help with firewood,” Kang-min said to Jang-min who nodded.
They disappeared inside the house and Yunho was left with his siblings sitting quietly as they avoided eye contact with him. Yunho looked between them before moving to sit down. He glanced back at the door first before speaking. “Alright,” he started.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Why are they avoiding me?”
Yumi glanced at Gunho who looked back at her and shrugged. Yumi narrowed her eyes at her younger brother before sighing. “It’s because of your girlfriend,” she replied. “Because of Seomi?” Yunho asked. “What? Why?” Yumi sighed again, looking towards Gunho for help but the younger merely shrugged again. “You’re no help,” she snapped.
“Seomi is kind of…” Yumi trailed off. “A bitch,” Gunho mumbled, earning a smack from Yumi. “She’s kind of a lot to handle. She’s been pretty nasty to Y/N for no reason,” Yumi clarified. Yunho looked between his siblings. “What are you talking about?” he asked. Yumi sighed heavily.
“First time I noticed it was during the drinking game. I think when you chose Y/N as your mate, Seomi got mad which I don’t know why. If you had picked her, she was gonna have to drink every time you did,” Gunho mumbled, picking at his sleeve. Yunho snorted.
“That’s exactly why I didn’t pick her. I didn’t want her to have to drink every time I did.” Yumi nodded, shifting in her seat. “And we get that. Hell, even Y/N gets that but Seomi must have thought you were picking Y/N because you like her or something which is, again, dumb. Y/N is my best friend and you’re my brother. If it hasn’t happened already, it’s probably never going to happen,” Yumi said softly.
Yunho forced a smile. 
It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it before; being with you. There was something different about you. Something Yumi’s other friends lacked. You were funny, intelligent, confident, and you didn’t really seem to take shit from anyone. You had your head on your shoulders which was more than Yunho could have said for some of Yumi’s other friends at the time.
Yunho was also well aware of the fact that he was your first crush, possibly even your first love, though he never actually heard it from you directly. He had only heard it second hand from a friend of his who claims to have somehow overheard you telling someone else. Someone who wasn’t Yumi.
When he initially heard it, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. You had never made it obvious that you liked him so he thought maybe his friend was pranking him. After all, he was in high school and you were still in middle school at the time, but he would be lying if it didn’t cross his mind again when you finally started high school. Or when you came back from your first year of college. He never wanted to cross that line, in case you had moved on and gotten over your crush.
If it was even true to begin with.
Despite whether or not your feelings for him were real, his for you were definitely real. So he forced himself to move on, forced himself to date people who weren’t you and hoped that by doing so, he might actually get over the silly feelings that lingered in the back of his mind. Only it didn’t actually work. 
When he brought his first college girlfriend home for winter break, he was certain he’d managed to move on but when he saw you coming out of Yumi’s room, all grown up yourself, his confidence that he’d finally managed to move on soared out the window.
He was back to square one.
It was after this that he stopped coming home during breaks as often and focused more on spending time with his friends. He and his girlfriend at the time had broken up after that trip, and it wasn’t until Yunho met Seomi that things seemed to start getting easier.
Whether that was because you weren’t around or because of Seomi herself, he couldn’t say for sure.
His relationship was far from perfect but he really did like Seomi. He thought he might even love her but when he saw you show up at the airport for the trip, he knew he was screwed. He couldn’t tell if your indifference towards him was because you’d truly moved on or if it was you trying to avoid him.
He just didn’t know. And how could he when the two of you barely spoke this trip. You had seemed uninterested in him, in what he’d become and done with his life. He thought if you were really past it, then maybe he could actually move on with Seomi but his resolve was further put to the test when you injured yourself. He was down the slope before you even fully came to a stop.
He had been mid conversation with Seomi one second and the next he was rushing down the slope to get to you. To make sure you were okay. He could chalk it up to being a concerned physician but he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. It was clear from the moment you showed up at the airport that he wasn’t truly over you and he might never be.
“She also got too excited when she thought Y/N had fucked up on the Christmas movies and then again when you took Y/N’s side,” Gunho continued, pulling Yunho out of his thoughts in time to see Yumi nodding. Yunho laughed this time, surprising both his siblings. 
“Because Y/N was right. Die Hard is a Christmas movie. Just because it’s not some cheesy Hallmark movie doesn’t mean it doesn’t count,” he explained.
“And then again today,” Gunho continued, ignoring his brother. “When Y/N got hurt and you carried her into the lodge, Seomi looked pissed,” he added, looking at Yumi who nodded again. “I saw that firsthand. It’s stupid. It’s not like Y/N could walk. She just twisted her ankle. She was injured.”
Yunho shook his head. “Why would she be mad at that?” Yunho asked. “I’m a physician. I help injured people at work all the time!” Yumi and Gunho shrugged simultaneously. “Does she ever get really upset when you’re around other women who aren’t family?” Yumi asked.
Yunho wracked his brain. “Now that you mention it…” he trailed off, noticing the way Yumi and Gunho exchanged glances. “And she’s been upset most of this trip because you’ve been around a girl who isn’t family. Picking her in a drinking game, helping her when she got injured, picking her side when she was right about something,” Gunho listed. “She’s clearly jealous of Y/N,” he added.
“Why would she need to be jealous?” Yunho asked, looking at his younger brother. “She’s not jealous,” Yumi said, shaking her head. “She’s insecure. She thinks that Y/N could pull you and she feels threatened by her.” Yunho stared incredulously at his sister.
“Seomi is my girlfriend. Not Y/N,” he retorted. “She has no reason to be insecure. I’m with her.” Yumi shrugged. “In her mind, that doesn’t matter,” Yumi replied. “In her mind, you’re going to leave her for someone better. Someone like Y/N.”
Yunho’s heart skipped a beat but he played it off with a scoff, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s just dumb,” he muttered. “Has Seomi said anything?” Yumi asked, Gunho turning to look at his older brother with mild interest. Yunho shook his head. “No,” he answered. “She’s upset, I know that, but when I ask why, she refuses to tell me. She just wants me to apologize. I did the first time, but I’m not apologizing again until she tells me why.”
Yunho watched Yumi shake her head. “She’s expecting you to read her mind which is never going to happen. She…” Yumi trailed off, averting her eyes to the firepit. “She what?” Yunho asked. Yumi looked back up. “She sounds exhausting and to be honest, I think you deserve better. You deserve someone who isn’t going to treat you like this.”
Yunho’s brow rose at Yumi’s admission. He looked to Gunho who said nothing, instead staring blankly into the fire. “You think Seomi and I should break up?” Yunho asked. Yumi nodded. “As your sister, yes. I think you two aren’t good for one another. But in the end, what I think doesn’t matter. What matters is what you think. It’s your relationship after all,” she replied.
Yunho watched as Yumi got up and walked around the firepit towards the door. “You have to think about what makes you happy though, Yunho. Not what makes other people happy.”
Without another word, Yumi opened the door and entered the house, leaving Yunho and Gunho by the fire. Yunho turned to the younger who sighed and got to his feet as well. “I’m getting a little chilly out here,” he announced. “See you inside,” he added walking past Yunho, leaving the eldest sitting there, stunned into silence.
Was this really how his family perceived his relationship? Was this how you perceived his relationship? Did everyone think he was some sort of idiot, dating Seomi without realizing the kind of person she was? Yunho sat for a moment longer outside before getting up and heading inside.
He and Seomi had some talking to do.
You woke up to total darkness, groaning softly as you rolled over.
“Morning sunshine~!” you heard your best friend say in an amused tone. You looked over to her side of the room to see she was sitting up in bed, a small light clipped to her book. “What time is it?” you grumbled, voice cracking. “Like eight,” Yumi answered, checking her watch for verification. “Did I miss dinner?” you asked looking back at her. She nodded, turning on her bedside lamp, casting a dim yellow light around the room.
“But I brought you food~!” Yumi said in a sing-song voice, getting up as she set her book aside. On your bedside table was a plate covered with another plate. “We just finished so it should still be kinda warm,” Yumi said as she got up and walked over. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I brought a bit of everything.”
You looked up at your best friend with sparkling eyes. “Thank you,” you whispered as she uncovered the plate and handed it to you. “It looks so good,” you said, holding back the urge to groan. Yumi snickered at your reaction, picking up the utensils and handing them to you.
“Just eat, you weirdo,” she mumbled, patting the top of your head and moving back to grab her book. Instead of getting back in her bed, she moved over to climb into yours, snuggling up next to you as you ate. “You want me to read to you?” she asked, looking up. You nodded as you took a bite.
You ate in silence as Yumi read aloud from her book.
As you were finishing your food, you could hear hushed voices on the other side of the wall. They grew in intensity and you could tell it was Yunho and Seomi. You glanced at your best friend who had stopped reading to listen, her eyes meeting yours.
“Wonder what they’re fighting about,” you murmured, turning back to your food. “Probably because Yunho offered to bring you dinner earlier,” Yumi muttered nonchalantly. You turned to look at her. “What?” you asked. Yumi looked up at you. “Yeah. You were sleeping so I didn’t wake you and then the twins asked where you were so I said you were asleep and I didn’t want to bother you ‘cause of your ankle. So Yunho offered to bring your food to you, like I’m not sharing a room with you,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Seomi’s been mad at him for other things too but I think this just kind of set her off.”
As soon as Yumi said that, you both jumped as you heard a door slam shut and someone stomping down the stairs. You looked at Yumi who looked back just as wide-eyed. “What was that?” you wondered out loud. Yumi shrugged and got up as the door to Yunho and Seomi’s room opened and more footsteps were heard running down the stairs before the front door opened.
Yumi rushed over to the window to see what the commotion was. “It’s Seomi and Yunho!” she whisper-shouted at you. “What are they doing?” you asked. “I think they’re yelling,” she replied. “Standby.” She set her book aside and carefully unlocked and opened the window a crack.
The distant voices of Yunho and Seomi could be heard arguing but you couldn’t discern what they were saying. “You’re being unreasonable,” Yumi whispered to you. “That was Yunho.”
“I’m not being unreasonable. You’re the one that’s in love with someone else,” Yumi continued to whisper the entire conversation to you. “I wonder who she’s talking about.”
“I’m not in love with her! How many times do I have to say it?”
“It’s written all over your face. You’re bad at hiding it. You’ve probably been cheating on me with her--”
Yumi frowned. “Oh hell no,” she hissed, pushing the window open some more. “Yumi!” you hissed, throwing a pillow towards her but falling short. “Hey!” Yumi yelled out the window. “People are trying to sleep here! Take your lover’s quarrel somewhere else!” Yumi shouted.
“Stay out of this, Yumi!” you heard Yunho’s voice shout.
“I’m trying to sleep!” another voice shouted out the window and you recognized it as Gunho.
“Stop shouting! People are sleeping!” yet another voice shouted.
“They’re getting in the car,” Yumi whispered to you, watching the van no doubt drive off into the forest before she turned to look at you, shutting the window. “I wonder where they’re going,” Yumi continued as she moved back to your bed. “Who knows,” you muttered, resuming picking at your food. Yumi noticed and sat up. “Are you done eating?” she asked softly. You nodded and thanked her as she took the plate.
“What are friends for if not to bring you food and take the plate away when your leg is all gimpy?” she asked, chuckling as you cursed at her. Yumi returned and grabbed her book, moving back to her bed. “I’ll let you go back to sleep,” she said as she climbed back into bed. “Thanks, Yumi,” you said again and she smiled up at you. “Any time,” she replied, turning the light off and plunging the room back into darkness.
——————————————————————————————————————————
The next morning, you woke to a light knocking on your door. Yumi was still in bed so you weren’t sure who it could be. The door cracked open and Haneul peered in, smiling at you. “Breakfast is ready,” she announced. “Do you want to come down or if your ankle still hurts, I could bring something up?”
You shook your head. “I’ll come down,” you replied, pulling back the covers as you sat up. “Thank you, Haneul,” you added. She shut the door and you grabbed a pillow, flinging it at Yumi who whined in protest. “Breakfast is ready, dork,” you called, pushing yourself up.
Your ankle wasn’t as painful today but you still couldn’t put all your weight on it.
You pulled on a pair of sweats and walked over to Yumi’s bed, grabbing your pillow and hitting her twice with it. “Come on,” you mumbled. “If I’m up, you need to be,” you said but she refused. “Get up or I’ll eat all the bacon,” you grumbled and she sat up quickly. “Don’t you dare,” she growled.
Once Yumi was dressed, you headed downstairs. Yumi waited while you took it easy, one step at a time. The rest of the family was already sitting around the table, save for Yunho. You wondered where he was and hoped he was okay.
Luckily, you didn’t have to wonder for long because Yumi asked for you.
“Where’s Yunho?”
“He’s in his room,” you heard Mrs. Jeong answer. “He had a hard time last night,” she added. You glanced over at your best friend who stared blankly at her mother. “So he made it back?” Yumi asked, drawing Mrs. Jeong’s attention. “He did,” she replied plainly.
“Alone?”
“Yumi,” Mr. Jeong said suddenly. “Knock it off. Your brother doesn’t need this right now.”
“It’s fine,” another voice said and everyone looked up to see Yunho had joined the group and was moving to sit between Gunho and his father. You looked away, busying yourself with your breakfast. It was a simple congee but you added a fried egg and some bacon to yours.
“Seomi left,” Yunho continued, addressing not only his sister but the entire table. “We broke up,” he added. “I’m sorry dear,” Mrs. Jeong said softly. Yunho forced a smile. “Why?” Jun-seo asked, looking up from his game. “It wasn’t working out anymore,” Yunho answered.
You glanced up in time to see his gaze pass over you and linger before he looked away. “Well, maybe some time in town will help,” Mr. Jeong said as he continued to eat. “We’re all going,” he added. “Dad,” Yumi said suddenly. “Y/N can’t walk. She twisted her ankle yesterday, remember?”
Mrs. Jeong nodded. “Oh, that’s right,” she said softly, looking at her husband. “I can stay here,” you said quickly. “You all go. Don’t stay back on my account. I’ll just stay in our room or something.”
Mrs. Jeong looked worriedly from you to your best friend. “Alone?” she asked. Yumi shook her head, opening her mouth to speak but Yunho beat her to it.
“I’ll stay behind,” he announced. “I’m not really feeling a trip to town. I’d actually rather stay here.” Yunho looked down at his plate while his parents exchanged glances. “Are you sure?” his mother asked. Yunho nodded, forcing another smile. “Of course,” he replied. “And who better to stay here with her than a physician?” Haneul’s father chimed in.
It was settled and after breakfast, you leaned against one of the wooden posts by the front door as the rest of the family headed out, Yumi stopping to make sure you were sure you wanted to be alone with Yunho. You nodded and told her to go have fun. Once they all piled into the vans and drove off, Yunho shut the door and turned to you. “So,” he said softly. “What do you want to do?” he asked.
You shrugged. “I’m not sure,” you replied. “But I think I want to rest upstairs.” Yunho nodded wordlessly, moving over to  where you stood. “You want me to carry you or you want me to just spot you as you climb the stairs?” he asked. Your cheeks burned and you looked away from his face.
“I’ll climb the stairs,” you murmured and moved to the base. Yunho followed, making sure you got to the top safely. Once you were back in your room, he waited by the door. “If you need to go downstairs for anything,” he said, hand on the doorknob. “Just call out. I’ll get you whatever you need,” he added before leaving.
You tossed and turned in your bed, trying to will yourself to go back to sleep but you struggled. As you lay there, you could hear the wind outside pick up, howling and rattling the windows in their frames. You carefully climbed out of bed and limped over to the window, pulling back the curtain to peer out and find that snow was blowing around. ‘A snow storm?’ you wondered silently.
You headed back to your bed, grabbing your earbuds from your bag and lay back down, plugging your ears and starting some music. Closing your eyes, you let the music lull you back to sleep, thankful the music was able to drown out the whipping wind.
When you woke up again, it was darker. You checked the time and saw that it was almost 5 pm. It got dark a lot faster than it did back home and you weren’t used to it yet. You sat up, reaching up to rub your eyes before swinging your legs over the side of the bed and getting up carefully.
You limped over to the door, pulling it open to peer out into the hall. “Yunho?” you called out. You were met with silence and decided not to bother him. You decided you could make it down the steps. You’d just have to be careful. You exited the room and made your way down to the main floor, taking it one step at a time and hobbled into the kitchen to get some water.
As you were opening the cabinet, you heard the back door open and turned to find Yunho carrying an armful of firewood. “You’re up!” he said as he moved to set the firewood by the fireplace and hurried over. “Here, let me,” he said softly as he stopped behind you, easily reaching the glasses and picking one out for you. “Why didn’t you call me for help?” he asked with a chuckle.
You moved to get some water from the fridge. “I called out but you were outside so I figured I’d just be careful coming down the stairs,” you explained. Yunho removed his coat and moved to hang it up along with his scarf and hat. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Yunho asked as he moved back to where you stood.
You took a sip of water and nodded, setting the glass on the counter. Yunho stared at you, eyes searching your face. “Is it still snowing?” you asked suddenly. Yunho nodded wordlessly. “Yeah,” he finally said. “My dad called,” he added. “Said if the snow doesn’t stop soon, they might have to stay in town.” Your heart jumped at the thought of having the entire place alone with Yunho.
“So we’ll be here,” you said plainly. Yunho nodded, looking at you but not quite seeing you. “Alone,” you added to which he continued to nod. Silence fell over the two of you but it wasn’t awkward. It was full of tension though. After a few moments, you finally broke the quiet.
“Sorry about Seomi,” you whispered. Yunho’s snapped up to meet yours. “What?” he asked softly. You cleared your throat before speaking again. “I’m sorry about Seomi.” Once you clarified what you said, Yunho’s expression softened. “It’s alright,” he replied. “It was never going to work out anyway,” he added.
“Why do you say that?” you asked curiously. Yunho smiled more to himself than to you.
“I think deep down, she was just a replacement for something,” he explained. “Or rather for someone.”
You watched him carefully as he no doubt was thinking to himself. “What do you mean?” Yunho looked up at you, lips parted but before he could say anything, your phone rang in your pocket. You sighed, pulling the device out. The screen read Yumi’s name and you held up a finger. “Hold that thought.”
You swiped the answer button and held the phone to your ear. “Hello?” you asked.
“Y/N, it’s Yumi,” you heard your best friend say. “Yeah, what’s up?” you asked, glancing up at Yunho who was leaning against the counter across from you, a small distance between you as he watched you carefully. “The locals said the storm isn’t stopping any time soon,” Yumi started.
“We’re gonna have to stay in the town tonight,” she continued. Your heart started to hammer in your chest. You were going to be all alone tonight. Alone with him. With Yunho. You glanced up at him, his expression growing more and more concerned. “Okay,” you managed to squeak out.
“Be safe. And hopefully we’ll see you in the morning,” you added. “Oh,” Yumi said suddenly. “Dad said to tell Yunho to bring in more firewood in case the power goes out up there. The stoves are gas so you should be fine on that.”
You nodded though your best friend couldn’t see you. “Got it,” you answered. “Be safe,” you repeated. Yumi repeated the sentiment and hung up and you set your phone down on the counter. “That was Yumi,” you started to explain. “She said the storm isn’t going to let up until tomorrow,” you continued.
Yunho nodded, waiting for you to go on. “She said they’re staying in town so we’re on our own tonight.” Yunho seemed to relax visibly. “And she said your dad said to bring more firewood in the house, just in case the power goes out.” Yunho nodded towards the fireplace. “I brought in three armfuls,” he explained. “That should be enough,” he added.
You nodded slowly as the conversation with Yumi started to fade away. “So,” you said softly. “What were you going to say before Yumi called?” You swore you saw a mild panic flash over Yunho’s face before he laughed it off. “Oh that? It’s nothing,” he murmured. “Just me rambling.”
“Forget I said anything.”
You reached forward, grabbing his wrist. “No,” you replied. He turned to look at you. “No?” he asked. You shook your head. “No, I’m not going to forget it. So just tell me.” Yunho hesitated before swallowing thickly. “Deep down, I think she was a replacement for someone,” he finally said softly.
“For who?” you asked, looking up at his eyes staring back at yours. ‘For you,’ you imagined him saying. Yunho hesitated a moment longer before speaking. “For someone I can’t have,” he finally said, your heart sinking into your stomach. You let go of him quickly and pulled back. “Oh,” you said shortly.
“I see,” you added, turning away from him. “I thought…” you trailed off. ‘Don’t,’ you told yourself. ‘Don’t do that. Don’t tell him that.’ It was Yunho’s turn to speak. “You thought what?” he asked.
“Nothing,” you said quickly. Much too quickly. You hoped that like your childhood crush on him, he wouldn’t notice but you should have known better. Yunho noticed almost everything about you, even if you didn’t know it.
“Tell me,” he said softly. His voice was somewhat closer as he spoke. “What did you think?”
You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter,” you said, choking back a sob that threatened to escape.
“It does to me.”
The dam holding back your tears broke and you let out the smallest whimper, ducking your head. “Y/N?” Yunho whispered. You felt his hand on your arm as he turned you slowly. “Talk to me,” he said as you fought to not face him. “It’s n-nothing!” you stammered.
Before you could move away, Yunho turned you to face him, taking your face in his hands and making you look up, meeting his gaze. “Why are you crying?” he asked, thumbs brushing your tears away. “It’s stupid,” you sobbed. “Don’t ask me.”
Yunho leaned closer, pressing his lips against your forehead.
The action was so intimate and unexpected that it caused your brain to short circuit. “If it’s upsetting you, it’s not stupid,” Yunho whispered, lips brushing against your skin. “So, tell me.” You shook your head rather than answer.
“Is it because you thought I was talking about you?” he asked.
You froze again. ‘Did he know this whole time?’
You slowly raised your eyes to meet his brown ones. “Is that it?” he asked softly.
Without a word, you nodded, maintaining eye contact. Yunho hummed, caressing your cheek slowly.
“You idiot,” he said softly with a smile. “I was talking about you.” Your eyes widened. “You were?” you squeaked. Yunho nodded. “Of course I was. I thought I had been obvious before but I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Y/N,” he murmured.
“Y-you have?!” you squeaked again. Yunho nodded. “I tried to move on, date other people but none of them lasted because they weren’t you. God, this whole time, I wanted you. I didn’t want anyone else but I thought you’d never go for it. Yumi is your best friend and she’s my sister. Dating your best friend’s brother? She’d never allow that. She’d hate me forever if I ever hurt you. So I stayed away. I tried to forget about the way I felt about you but each time when I thought I’d made progress I would come home and see you and everything would fall back to square one.”
You stared up at him as he rambled. 
“I tried so hard not to love you. To let you go and move on. I tried so fucking hard,” he said, his voice breaking as he held back tears. “But I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t go on pretending I don’t want this,” he said, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs again. “Pretending that I don’t want you,” he added.
“Pretending like I’m not completely in love with you.”
Your hands reached up to grab his shirt, pulling him down and crashing your lips against his, catching him off guard. His brief pause passed and he melted into the kiss, one hand moving to the small of your back and pulling you against him as he kissed you deeper.
You let out a quiet moan as his lips parted yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth and finding yours. Your fingers loosened their grip on his shirt as he pressed further against you. Without a word, he scooped you up, setting you on the counter before his lips were back on yours, hands wandering as he slotted himself between your thighs.
You moaned as his lips moved down the side of your neck, hands gripping your waist tightly. “God, you sound so pretty,” he murmured against your ear. “I’ve thought about what you sound like,” he continued. “Wondered what you taste like, what you feel like.”
You felt a chill run up your spine. “I’ve wanted you so bad,” Yunho continued, lips brushing against your pulse point. “So many times, I wanted to take you to my room when you were spending the night and drown in you. Pin you to the bed and make you beg for release,” he continued, groaning when you whimpered in his ear.
“What’s stopping you now?” you whispered. Yunho groaned, pulling back to take your face in his hands firmly. “Tell me you want this,” he said urgently. “Tell me you want me. I need to hear you say it.” You looked up at him, searching his face before finally answering him. “I want you,” you managed to say in a shaky voice.
Yunho let out a growl, pulling you into another kiss, parting your lips, his tongue meeting yours in a frantic dance for dominance. You started to pull at Yunho’s shirt, pulling it out of the way so you could fumble with the ties of his pants. “Wait, wait,” Yunho mumbled, grabbing your hands and halting your movement. You looked up to meet his gaze.
“What?” you asked, worried you might have done something wrong. He shook his head. “Not here,” he mumbled. “You deserve better than to be fucked in the kitchen like some cheesy porno,” he continued. You opened your mouth to protest but Yunho was gone before you could stop him.
He disappeared up the steps leaving you alone in the kitchen. You heard him rushing around on the floor above, his footsteps echoing through the floor before he started to descend the steps. You turned to look over your shoulder as he came into view, carrying an armful of blankets and pillows.
“What the--” you trailed off as he tossed the linens down in front of the fireplace before moving around behind the sofa. You watched as he pulled the sofa back, the wooden legs making a slight screech as they dragged against the wooden floor.
Next to move was the coffee table before Yunho started fumbling with the blankets and pillows. You started to move over to where he was kneeling to get a better look. As he came full into view, you could see he had created a sort of bed on the floor in front of the fireplace. You stared incredulously at him as he worked quickly before he looked up and met your gaze.
“Hey,” he pouted. “Back in the kitchen,” he ordered. You chuckled as you hobbled back over to wait for him. Once he was satisfied that the nest was comfortable enough, he was back by your side in the kitchen, guiding you back onto the counter. “Where were we?” he murmured, leaning in.
“Before you so rudely ran away?” you whispered as his lips brushed against yours. “Hey,” he whined. “I had to improvise. I didn’t want to try to force you to climb the stairs and besides,” he added, pulling back to look at you. “And if the power goes out in the middle, at least we’ll still have the fire for warmth and light,” he continued. Your hands moved up his chest to rest on his shoulders.
“Hmm,” you hummed. “We’ll have more than the fire for warmth,” you retorted. Yunho leaned in closer. “Only if you want to,” he answered. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t-” you cut him off, pulling him into a kiss, smirking internally as he groaned against your lips.
And just like that, the brief pause so he could set the mood in front of the fireplace was forgotten as you felt his hands wander, one moving to the small of your back and pulling you against him as his tongue explored your mouth again. “Fuck,” you heard him groan as he pulled back, lips trailing down the side of your neck. “Can I mark you?” he groaned, pulling away to look at you.
You nodded silently, chest heaving. “Just not my neck,” you admitted. “Yumi might see,” you added. Yunho’s fingers toyed with the hem of your tee shirt, eyes searching yours for permission to remove the article. You nodded and allowed him to pull it off you with ease. His eyes scanned your frame, taking in parts of you he’d never seen before, only imagined.
You resisted the urge to cover yourself even if you were wearing a bralette. Yunho said nothing, instead bringing a hand up, hesitating as he looked up at you through his lashes. “May I?” he asked, waiting for your consent. You nodded wordlessly, wanting to feel his hands all over. You want to feel him everywhere.
“Please,” you finally croaked out. “Please touch me.”
Yunho’s hands were on you in an instant, one cupping over your chest as the other moved to the back of your neck, pulling you into a heated kiss, one that took your breath away as he guided your movements. “Come here, angel,” he murmured, sliding his hands under your ass as he stepped away from the counter, carrying you from the kitchen to the living room.
He carefully set you on the couch before kneeling in front of you. “Tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable,” he started, looking up at you, the light from the fire dancing over the both of you. Slowly, you cupped his cheek, almost melting when he leaned into your touch.
“Don’t stop,” you simply said. “I want this. I want you,” you reminded him. “I’ve always wanted you.”
Yunho gently pulled you from the couch, sliding you under him on your back against the blankets. “God, I don’t even know where to start,” he murmured, his hips slotting between your thighs as his hands held him up. “I want to touch you everywhere, kiss you everywhere.” Your fingers fumbled with the hem of his shirt. “We have all night,” you reminded him.
“Take your time.”
Yunho did just that, kissing you slowly as one of his hands moved along your side, squeezing your hip and moving down to your thigh, pulling it against his hip and grinding against your core. You could feel the weight of his cock in his pants press against you, almost throbbing with the need to release.
“Yunho,” you moaned as he kissed down your neck to your collar. “Hmm?” he hummed against your skin. “Please touch me,” you whined. He chuckled lightly, his breath hot against your skin. “I am touching you, baby,” he replied. Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname.
Hearing it come from him was something you’d always wanted but never expected. He wasn’t holding back anymore. “Please, Yunho, please,” you begged, trying to wiggle your hips but his weight held them down. “Shush,” he mumbled, planting soft kisses against your collar. “Be patient, baby.”
You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt Yunho’s lips move over your chest, feeling his breath through the thin material of your lacy bralette. “This is in the way,” he grumbled, pulling back and slipping his fingers under the fabric. “It needs to come off,” he added.
You allowed him to pull you up to pull the offending article off and toss it aside.
You laid back slowly, cheeks burning under his gaze as he took in even more of your form. It wasn’t an entirely new experience for you, being topless but being topless in front of your best friend’s brother who you happen to be in love with was certainly a unique experience.
“God,” he murmured, tearing his gaze from your exposed skin to look up at your face. “I’ve never told you how fucking beautiful you are, have I?” he asked, leaning down to press a kiss against your cheek. “I’ve thought about this moment a hundred different ways,” he continued, whispering into your ear.
“About what it would be like to have you underneath me like this. To have you laid bare for me,” he continued, kissing back down to your chest. “To be able to take my time and kiss your body over and over. To taste every inch of you.” You let out a gasp as you felt his tongue against your nipple, taking it into his mouth with a gentle suck. Your fingers combed through his hair as he teased the sensitive nub, his hand moving to cup your breast and knead it softly.
“Y-Yunho,” you whimpered as he pulled back, his mouth moving to the other side and repeated the same actions, taking your pert nipple in his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. Each flick had your back arching, quiet moans slipping past your lips and your panties starting to stick to you.
Yunho started to kiss down your stomach, stopping to nip at your hips. You moaned louder as he sank his teeth into your skin. “Shit, Yunho,” you gasped as he pulled back and continued kissing down to the waistband of your leggings. “May I?” he asked again and this time you nodded fervently. “Yes,” you answered quickly. “Please.”
Yunho moved slowly, pulling your leggings down past your hips before sliding them down your thighs and pulling them off completely, leaving you in your panties. Your cheeks burned as he took in the sight before him, his hands moving to your knees to hold your legs apart.
“Yunho,” you whined, closing your eyes. “Don’t stare,” you continued. You heard him chuckle softly. “This is the first time I’m seeing you like this,” he replied. “Let me savor it, baby.”
Your cheeks continued to burn under his gaze as he studied your body. Finally, his hands moved up your thighs, stopping at your hips. “Look at me,” he said softly. You did, eyes snapping open to meet his gaze. “There you are,” he added, making you whine and try to cover your face with your hands.
“Don’t,” Yunho warned, taking your wrists and pulling your hands from your face, leaning over to pin your wrists against the blankets as he hovered over you. “Don’t hide from me. Let me see all of you,” he continued, one hand moving down to your cheek before sliding over your neck, marveling at the size difference between the two of you.
“Fuck, you’re so tiny,” he murmured, fingers lightly closing around your throat. You let out a whimper and Yunho’s brows rose up quickly. “Oh?” he asked softly, squeezing just a little more, making you choke on your own words. “Really?” he asked, mildly amused. “Choking, huh? I never would have guessed.”
You tried to glare back at him but couldn’t hold the seriousness in your gaze as he squeezed gently again, your lips parting as a shameless moan slipped out, making his lips twitch as he fought against a smirk that threatened to spread across his face.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, pulling his hand from your neck. “For later,” he added as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You moaned as you felt him grind against you again, the gusset of your panties covered in your own arousal and sticking to you uncomfortably.
Yunho noticed you shifting under him and looked down at you. “Is it uncomfortable?” he asked, lifting his weight off you. Shaking your head, you grabbed him but the hips and pulled him back down, resting the weight of his cock against your core. “My panties are just…” you trailed off.
Yunho cocked his head to the side curiously. “They’re just what?” he asked almost innocently. Your cheeks and ears burned in embarrassment. “Sticky,” you finally managed to get out. Yunho said nothing, instead keeping his eyes trained on your face as he rolled his hips, grinding against you.
“Would you like me to change that?” he asked softly, maintaining eye contact. You hesitated. Did you want him to remove your panties just yet? Were you ready to be that exposed to him? You were almost entirely naked under him yet he was still clothed. You shook your head. “It’s not fair for me to be the only one exposed here,” you said.
Wordlessly, Yunho sat back, reaching behind and grabbing the neck of his shirt before pulling it off over his head and setting it aside, leaving him in just his sweats. You allowed your eyes to sweep his frame, taking in the sight. You’d seen him shirtless before, spending many nights over at Yumi’s when you were younger but you never allowed yourself to really look, always averting your eyes in the past.
He was muscular but in a lean way. His shoulders were broad as you remembered and he’d filled out even more since the last time you’d seen him without his shirt. Your eyes continued to travel further and further, catching sight of a light trail of hair that started under his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his sweats.
“Better?” he asked, his tone amused as he watched you stare at him. You reached up, grabbing his shoulder and pulled him down to meet your lips in a rushed kiss. He’d spent so long working you up slowly and now you were more than desperate to have him.
“I know I said we have all night,” you murmured between kisses. “But I really need you right now.” Yunho chuckled against your lips, hands sliding down to your hips. “You’ve been very patient,” he agreed. “I think you deserve a reward for that.” Without another word, he dragged your panties down, discarding them rather quickly.
You waited with baited breath as his eyes wandered, taking in the sight of you completely naked under him. His eyes stopped briefly at the spot between your thighs before he looked back up to meet your gaze. You kept your eyes trained on his face as he leaned over you, his hand moving between your legs and groaning as he collected your wetness. “I’ve barely done anything,” he noted as he looked down, seeing his fingers already coated.
“S’because it’s you,” you murmured. Yunho looked back up, pressing his fingers further between your lips and easily finding your clit. You let out a gasp as he slowly started to draw light circles, watching your face as he explored. He was clearly experienced but it was still a new experience; a new lover.
He moved faster, still keeping the same pressure. It was teasing. It was enough friction to keep you on the edge but not push you further. “Yunho please,” you begged. It only took one plea for his fingers to move down and sink two into your entrance, making you moan loudly.
“Like that?” he asked softly, curling his fingers against the spongy spot inside you, making you gasp and your thighs try to close around his arm. Yunho pushed your thighs apart, leaning against one to keep you spread open for him. As he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you slowly, he inspected you, keeping his eyes on the place where his fingers disappeared.
Your thigh tried to close and Yunho grumbled, moving his free hand and taking yours, moving it to your thigh. “Hold your legs open before I tie you down,” he growled. Your walls clenched around his fingers as you did what he instructed. “Good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your stomach before scooting further down.
Before you could ask what he was doing, you felt his tongue against your clit. It was slow, deliberate, and hot. “I’ve wondered what you tasted like for years,” he murmured. “It’s better than I imagined.” With renewed vigor, Yunho’s tongue lapped at your sex, flicking against your clit as his fingers continued to move inside you. The stimulation started to build tension and you felt your orgasm approaching.
Yunho must have felt it too because he pulled away, his fingers slowing to a stop. You whined, feeling defeated as your climax ebbed away. “Shush,” you heard him whisper. “It’s okay, baby,” he continued. “I just need you to hold off a little longer for me.”
Yunho gave your sex a light lick before he pulled away, fingers continuing to move and curl, scissoring you open slowly. “Yunho, please,” you pleaded, unshed tears filling your eyes. “Just a little more, kitten,” he murmured, kissing the inside of your thigh.
“Just a little more,” he repeated. Your thighs shook, your impending orgasm slipping away once again when he stopped. You were about to protest when you felt him add a third finger, groaning as you felt the stretch against your walls. “You’re just so tight,” Yunho groaned as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. “I have to take it slow or I might hurt you.”
Despite your begging and pleading, Yunho took his time, opening you up until he was satisfied. You were an incoherent mess as he finally removed his pants and underwear, moving between your thighs and groaning as the underside of his cock rubbed against your wet folds.
“Look, angel,” he instructed. You opened your eyes and pushed yourself up onto your elbows to look down between your thighs. Yunho had rested his cock on you and you felt your stomach churn slightly at the sight. You knew Yunho was a big guy in general but the sheer size of his cock had you already seeing stars. The tip reached just under your navel and you were certain there was no way he’d fit all of it in you.
“So big,” you commented. Yunho chuckled slightly, carefully pushing you back onto the blanket. “I’ll go slow,” he reassured you, pulling back and taking himself in his hand. “Just tell me to stop if it hurts,” he added. You nodded as you felt him press the tip against your slit.
“Deep breath,” he added. You inhaled slowly and as you exhaled, you felt him push the head of his cock past your folds. You groaned as you felt it start to fill you. Yunho took his time, massaging your hips as he slid in slowly, inch by inch.
You winced slightly, prompting him to stop and whisper words of praise as you tried to relax. “That’s it baby,” he murmured. “Just relax. I’ve got you,” he added. You willed your body to relax, sighing as he continued. It felt like ages before he stopped.
Your body has seized up again and Yunho was coaxing you through it. “It’s okay angel,” he whispered, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your hips. “Relax, baby,” he added. “Relax and let me in.”
You groaned as he slid further and further, his size filling and stretching your walls. You tried not to clench but subconsciously, your cunt fluttered and constricted around him, making him groan as he tried to bottom out. You were certain he’d never fit it all in but to your absolute surprise, he did.
His hips met yours and he stilled, groaning as he dropped his head into your chest. “Fuck,” you heard him curse, his voice muffled. “You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he groaned. You felt him give a tentative thrust, as if to make sure his cock was fully buried in your pussy.
“So f-full,” you stammered, the tears flowing freely now. “So big,” you added. Yunho lifted his head and cupped your cheek tenderly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Feels good?” he asked and you nodded quickly. “Feels s-so good,” you moaned.
“So fucking good.”
Yunho chuckled, his breath fanning over your skin as you felt him start to retract slowly before snapping his hips forward and filling you in one thrust. You gasped out at the feeling. “Does it hurt?” he asked suddenly, stopping. You shook your head. “N-no. Feels so good,” you answered. “Keep going, please.”
Yunho pulled back and thrust into you again, setting a slow, heavy rhythm. Your walls constricted, trying to keep him from pulling out and sucking him back in with ease. Moans and mumbles slipped from your lips as he moved. You looked up, meeting his intense gaze.
“God,” he groaned as his hips stuttered for a moment before he was pounding into you, one hand holding your thigh open, the other keeping him from collapsing onto you. “Fuck!” he swore, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to thrust, his hips meeting yours.
You could feel him deeper than anyone had ever been, moaning with each thrust.
“So small and yet you take me so well,” Yunho groaned. “Like you were made for me.” You whimpered in response, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Does it feel good, baby?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “Do you like how good my cock feels inside you?”
You nodded wordlessly, moans slipping out instead of words. “Oh shit, do you see that, little one?” he asked, his eyes now glancing down at your stomach. You raised your head to see what he was looking at. You could see a slight bulge every time he thrust into you. “It almost doesn’t fit,” Yunho said with a smug tone.
“My cock is almost too big for you, kitten.”
You moaned as he took your hand, placing it over the spot halfway between your navel and sex. You moaned, feeling the tip nudge against your hand. Yunho groaned, pushing your palm down as he thrusted into you. You moaned loudly.
“Fuck, you sound so good, baby,” he murmured, hips slowing as he pushed himself up. You groaned as he grabbed your waist, pulling you up so your ass was resting on his thighs as he thrust further into you. “Hng! Yunho!” you gasped as the tip of his cock hit your cervix.
“Oh shit,” he cursed. You felt him pull out entirely, making you whine at the empty feeling. Yunho rolled you onto your stomach, grabbing one of the pillows to put under your hips, propping you up for him as he re-entered you from behind. You moaned into the blankets as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix.
“That’s it, baby,” Yunho groaned, holding your hips in place as he pulled out, snapping forward and filling you with one stroke. He set a much faster, more unrelenting pace, thrusting into you to a beat only he knew. You grabbed onto the blankets, trying to ground yourself against the power of his movements as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin drowning out the crackling of the fire and your whimpers.
“Yuh-Yu-Yunho,” you moaned, walls clenching repeatedly around his cock and pushing both of you closer and closer to the edge. “Gonna fuck you so good you forget anyone else ever existed,” you heard him growl. “So you know you’re mine and mine alone.”
“M’gonna make you scream my name, baby,” he added, leaning over your back, one hand moving around to grab your throat firmly. You moaned, walls squeezing around him as your orgasm washed over you without warning. “Fuck, fuck, that’s it kitten. Cum on this cock like a good girl.”
Yunho continued to fuck you through your orgasm, enjoying the way you whimpered and whined as he continued to thrust into you, keeping a firm grip on your throat. “You gonna cum again?” he murmured in your ear. “Y-yes,” you whimpered, walls already fluttering around Yunho’s cock, gripping him tightly.
“Gonna let me fill this sweet little cunt?” he asked in your ear, giving you a hard thrust. “Y-yes, daddy,” you whined. Yunho let out a growl. “Daddy, huh?” he asked, rolling his hips and making your eyes roll back. “That’s a new one,” he continued. “Alright, baby. We can go with that.” 
“You like it when daddy fucks you from behind?”
You nodded vigorously. “Yes daddy,” you repeated. “Say it,” Yunho growled, pounding into you, burying himself to the hilt and making you squeal. “I like it!” you cried out. “Say it. All of it,” Yunho repeated, pounding into you once more. “Yes, I like it!” you almost screamed. “I like it when you fuck me from behind, daddy!”
You felt him sink his teeth into your shoulder, making you whimper as his cock pistoned in and out of you, making your eyes roll back again, stars filling your vision. “That’s right, baby,” he growled against your skin. “This pussy is mine. You’re mine.” You nodded wordlessly but that wasn’t enough for Yunho.
“Say it.” he ordered. “I’m yours, daddy,” you answered.
“And who does this pussy belong to?”
“It’s y-yours, daddy,” you choked out, tears flowing freely and streaming down your cheeks.
“Good girl,” Yunho groaned. “Oh fuck, you’re such a good girl. You’re my good little girl, aren’t you?” he moaned. Your second orgasm was approaching, your cunt convulsing around Yunho’s cock as his thrusts grew more erratic and sloppy. The sound of his cock thrusting into you was audible over the crackling of the fire.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you heard him curse. “M’gonna cum,” he warned you. “Where you want it, angel?” he whispered. “I-inside me, daddy, please,” you moaned. “Please cum inside me!” Yunho let out a low growl, hips slapping against your ass with renewed eagerness, groaning into your ear as he came, filling your cunt with his release.
You felt more and more of it pump into you, filling you almost to the brim as he continued to fuck his cum into you. “Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Oh, god, I love you,” he whispered as he continued to thrust, his movements slowing. “I love you so much,” he continued. “Tell me you love me, too, please,” he murmured against your shoulder.
“I love you, too,” you moaned as he finally stilled, burying his cock deep inside your walls with a huff.
The only sound other than your ragged breathing was the crackling of the fire as you both came down from your respective highs. You didn’t dare move until Yunho did and for a while, you were certain he’d fallen asleep on top of you until he finally shifted.
He pushed himself up and slowly pulled out of you, grimacing as some of his release spilled out of you, running down the insides of your thighs. “Don’t move,” he instructed and got up, grabbing his underwear and pulling it on before walking over to the kitchen and grabbing a towel.
You heard the water run briefly before he returned, wiping the insides of your thighs and carefully wiping your skin clean of his cum. “Are you okay?” he asked as he helped you roll over onto your back. “I’m great,” you said, your voice almost far off, a dazed expression on your face.
Yunho chuckled as he continued to wipe you down before grabbing your shirt and helping you into it.
Once he was certain you were clean, he tossed the used towel onto the coffee table and laid down next to you. “Did you mean it?” you asked finally as he pulled a blanket over the two of you and pulled you into his arms. “Mean what?” he asked, watching as you turned in his hold to look at him.
“When you said you love me?”
Yunho’s expression softened and he pressed his lips against yours tenderly. “Of course,” he answered. “I do love you. It’s always been you, Y/N. I only want you,” he continued. You snuggled against him, listening to his heart beating in his chest. “Did you mean it?” he asked after a moment and you nodded immediately. “Mhm, I’ve loved you for a long time, Yunho,” you replied.
“For me, you’ve always been it.”
You pulled back to look up at him. Yunho’s lips spread into a grin before kissing you again, a bit more passionately. “Yumi isn’t going to like this,” he added softly. You shrugged, no longer caring now that you knew your feelings were reciprocated. “I think she’d rather us be happy,” you said softly.
“We’ll just have to break it to her easily. We were both stupid and in love,” Yunho replied. Your eyes fluttered shut as you started to drift off.
When you awoke it was to the slam of a distant door. You opened your eyes slowly, bright light pouring into the room. You were still lying in Yunho’s arms on the floor in front of the fireplace. You relaxed as Yunho snored softly. The next moment the front door opened and your eyes snapped open.
Before you could scramble away from Yunho who was starting to stir, you heard an all too familiar voice.
“What the hell is all this?” Yumi shouted. You sat up quickly, rubbing your eyes as you looked up at your best friend who was glaring down at the two of you. Yunho pushed himself up. “We can explain,” he said quickly. Yumi narrowed her eyes before her expression softened.
“Oh you don’t need to explain,” she said, chuckling. 
“I’ve known for years that the two of you were hot for each other. Just waited for it to come out.”
You turned to look at Yunho who looked just as stunned as you.
“Just do me a favor,” Yumi added, making the two of you look at her.
“Keep the fucking to a minimum, or just keep it down,” she asked.
“I forgot to buy earbuds.”
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ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.
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thetriumphantpanda · 3 months
Text
new perspective | joel miller
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Summary | the summed wedged between finishing your undergraduate degree and starting on your graduate programme just got a lot better when Joel Miller turns out to feel exactly the same about you as you do to him.
Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word Count | 3.7k
Warnings | Explicit Smut. dbf!Joel makes his return on my blog, mentions of food and alcohol, Joel being competent and fixing stuff, the classic dbf trop of a cookout, sex while your parents are around, oral sex (f), masturbation (m), unprotected PiV, talk of contraception, dirty talk, praise kink, THE RETURN OF MIRROR SEX BY THETRIUMPHANTPANDA, no outbreak au, no use of Y/N.
Authors Note | I missed dad's best friend Joel so I wrote him :) I hope you like him. This is a standalone but I won't rule out adding more in this universe if y'all like it. I have to shoutout @hellishjoel for talking me through how to make a moodboard so beautifully, thank you honey! If you like this, consider reblogging/commenting/leaving asks for me - it really helps!
Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for my writing updates. 
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
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The incessant dripping of the kitchen tap is driving you insane. You’d come back to Texas for the summer to relax. Hoping to leave behind shoddy workmanship that your landlord refused to fix because he would do it when you moved out, ready for the next lot of college kids to come in. If your dad had mentioned the dripping kitchen tap, the creaky floorboards on the stairs and the issue with water pressure that meant showering took longer than necessary, maybe you’d have stayed where you were.
“Someone’s comin’ to take a look at that later,” He’d said on his way out to work that morning, head tilting towards the kitchen, “Should be here after lunch.”
You’d waved him off, barely looking up from the book you were reading, legs outstretched on the couch with your notepad and pen resting on the arm. Wasn’t much of a summer when you were going straight from your undergraduate degree into a graduate programme.
As the day moved on, the heat got worse. Glasses of ice water turning lukewarm before you had a chance to cool down. The patio door open, hoping for a breeze every now and then, but finding no reprieve. The ice pop doesn’t even help that much, melting too quickly before you had a chance to enjoy it.
It’s pushing 2pm when there’s a knock at the door. Reading material and notepad pushed onto the floor, trash TV on in the background as you try not to sweat to death. It takes you a minute to register the noise, so long that whoever it is here to look at the tap knocks again.
You pull open the door, wincing when the heat of the sun being let in sinks across your skin. The change in light means it’s a few seconds before your eyes adjust to who it is standing in front of you. Joel Miller.
It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. He’s been busy, according to your dad, building his business with Tommy. Lots of out of town trips now Sarah is grown and away to college for her first year - schedules not quite lining up for you to see him when you come home, but God are you glad you have the chance now. He’s older now, obviously, greying a little. His hair has grown too, curls flopping onto his forehead and around his ears. He looks broader now than he did - the physical labour obviously working in his favour - you can see the arms of his t-shirt straining around the muscles there, but as you let your eyes trail down a little, you’re pleased to see that he clearly still enjoys his barbecue and beer.
“Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?” He asks and that Southern drawl hasn’t changed either, low and slow, tickling just the right parts of your brain as they always had.
You’d thought whatever it was that you felt for him was just some silly schoolgirl crush, but the longer he hung around, the older he got, the more you realised he wasn’t something you’d grow out of liking. Not even the fair amount of fooling around at college had helped - boys that had no idea what they were doing, who couldn’t take instruction to save their lives. Whenever they’d leave, you’d lie there, sheets pulled up under you chin, and think, Joel Miller would never leave me like that - wet, wanting and unsatisfied.
“Sorry,” You mumble, taking a side step to let him in, “Here to fix the tap, right?”
“That’s right,” He replies, walking in and straight to the kitchen - he spends more of his time here than you do now, “Nice t’see you back for a while.”
You close the door, stopping off to lean over the couch and grab your half-empty water glass before following behind him to the kitchen.
“Weird to be back, honestly,” You muse, pulling a fresh glass out of the cupboard, “Didn’t think this place would ever change much, but it feels different.”
“Probably you that’s changed,” He talks as he opens the toolbox he’s bought with him, “Got a different perspective on things now you live in the big city.”
“You��re probably right,” You agree, filling the glasses with ice and water, sipping from one and putting the other near to where Joel is working, “And the fact no-one else left I suppose - did you know Becca from my year at school has had two kids since I’ve been away?”
Joel let’s out a low whistle as he uses some tool to tighten something on the tap, sighing when it doesn’t stop the leaking, “Two kids at your age?” He asks, “I could barely deal with Sarah, I don’t know how folks do it.”
“Yeah, me neither,” You shrug, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I can barely keep myself alive.”
He turns his head, his brown eyes roving you up and down, is he…? Is he checking you out? He lets out a little cough and reaches for his water, taking two deep drinks of it before he turns back to the job at hand, sinking to his knees on the floor to open the cupboard under the sink. He’s got his head inside it when he speaks again.
“I don’t know,” He muses, “You look pretty alive to me.”
“Thanks,” you chuckle, “Best compliment I’ve ever received.”
You can hear him laugh a little from under the sink, the noise punctuated with the sounds of him gently hammering at something.
“Can you pass me the screwdriver down?” He asks, an arm extending out towards you as you rifle through his toolbox, setting the tool in his hand when you find it.
It doesn’t take him much longer to fix whatever was wrong, the dripping from the faucet stopping, giving you the sweet relief of silence, save for him groaning as he stands from his knees.
“Maybe time to retire, old man?” You offer with a smirk as he shoves the tools back into the box.
“Careful,” He warns, but his voice is light and you know he’s teasing, “I’m in the prime of my life.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I’m all done,” He says a few moments later once he’s cleaned up, “Tell your dad I’ll be back sometime in the week to look at the shower.”
You follow him back to the door, like a lost puppy on his heel, wanting to spend as much time as possible in his company before he leaves.
“Thanks for coming,” You say when he opens the door, “The dripping was driving me wild.”
“No problem sweetheart, my pleasure,” He smiles, “Anythin’ else you let your dad know he can call me, okay?” You nod in response, about to close the door, “It’s real good to see you again.”
“You too, Joel.”
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It’s been just over a week since Joel had fixed the tap. He’d been back and forth to tinker with the other issues throughout the house, talking to you here and there, but tonight is the first time he’ll be here without the pretence of needing to fix something. It’s always the same in Southern households in the summer - each household in a group of friends taking turns to host some form of dinner for everyone else, eating together in the name of community.
There’s a table full of food - your mother had made enough side dishes to feed the five thousand, potato salad, fresh bread and enough green salad that you’d all be eating it for days afterwards. The fridge stocked full of beer and wine and the crowning glory of a cheesecake you’d slaved over for hours yesterday.
Joel is here, along with Tommy, and your neighbours on both sides too. Your mom and dad had invited friends from work, but just like you’d expected, none of your friends from before you left were able to make it - prior commitments of children, husbands and work.
It’s a low-key affair, a table full of grilled meat and sides and plenty of alcohol, but it’s the alcohol that’s made this difficult for you. With Joel sitting right next you, smelling of cologne and entirely unaware that you’re creaming in your panties about wanting him to fuck you.
You’d not been subtle today either - picking the shortest dress you own, bending over to pick something up in front of him, laughing at his jokes and pressing against him at the table whenever he says something interesting or funny - you want him to know that you want him, you want him to know that he’s all you’ve been able to think about since he showed up on the porch last week.
And you think he does. When you rest a hand on his knee under the table after a particularly funny story about his apprentice and a drill on the worksite, he gives you a pointed look, but doesn’t brush your hand away, and when you announce to the table that you need to use the bathroom and cool down a little, you’re halfway up the stairs when you hear his footsteps following you - almost hunting you into the bathroom and closing the door.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’, sugar.”
Got him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel.” You smirk, turning around to lean against the sink as the bathroom door closes with a snick.
“Though you were a smart city girl now,” He muses, leaning his back against the door - you don’t miss his hand turning the lock, “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”
“Maybe you should explain it to me,” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, “I’d hate for us to have crossed wires.”
He shakes his head, but you can see the twitch of his mouth upwards, “Firstly, this little number,” His hand waves at your dress, barely short enough to cover your ass, “And the way you’ve been bendin’ over all night right when I happen to be lookin’, sittin’ right next to me, the way you’re puttin’ your hands on my leg whenever you laugh?” You shrug in response, “Definitely not the sweet girl I remember before you left.”
“Things change,” You offer, “New perspectives and all that.”
“And those new perspectives make you wanna fuck this old man?” He asks, eyebrow raised.
“Is that such a crime?”
“College boys ain’t doin’ it for you?”
“No.” You reply simply, trying to keep your grin from blooming as he starts stepping towards you until you can feel the heat from his body.
He’s looming over you, hands on either side of your body, caging you between his body and the sink. You look up, find his face close to yours and waste no time in pressing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him.
It’s soft. Softer than you’d imagined from him - his mouth moving slowly against your lips as he presses his body flush to yours. You open your mouth against his a little, let your tongue trail over his bottom lip, hands reaching up to grip onto his t-shirt as his tongue meets yours.
You think you could stay like that forever, tasting him, but he pulls away, hands gripping your hips through the material of your dress to turn you around. There’s a brief moment where he presses himself against you, letting you feel the hardening of his cock against your ass, but then he’s gone, dropped to his knees behind you, tearing your panties down your legs to pool at your ankles.
Joel brings his palms to the naked skin of your ass, squeezing before he pulls gently, spreading you open with a low whistle from his mouth.
“Don’t tell me you’re this wet from teasing me, sugar.” He says, leaning forward to press his mouth to the top of your spine.
You’re about to respond when you feel one of his hands drop and then brush against the slick folds of your cunt, all you can do is watch yourself in the mirror as you tip your head forward and wait for what’s coming.
You feel him run his fingers back down before one of them dips lower, dangerously close to your fluttering hole that’s begging to be filled - and he knows it.
“She’s desperate, huh?” He coos behind you, “Practically beggin’ for someone to fill her up, ain’t she?”
“Please, Joel?” You breathe out, looking at yourself in the mirror, “I need it.”
“What do you need?” He asks with a tender squeeze of his other palm to your ass, “Huh? You tell me sugar and I’ll give it to you.”
“Your m-mouth,” You stutter out, “Or your f-fingers, anything Joel, please.”
“Like this?” He asks, and you’re about to ask what he means when you feel the warmth of his tongue lapping at you.
He’s tasting you, lapping at your core where you’re seeping slick just for him, his fingers trailing up, finding that bud of nerves, gently circling as he drinks from you.
“Ohhhhhh,” You sigh out in relief, taking yourself in when you look at your reflection, hair a little mused, skin slick with sweat already, “Just like that.”
You can feel his tongue pressing inside a little as his finger finds a rhythm of short gentle swipes across your clit - he’s got your knees wobbling already, making you flatten your palms on the marble sink to keep yourself upright.
“You gotta be quiet, okay?” He says, pulling his mouth off you to speak, dragging his fingers from your clit, “You make too much noise, I’ll have to stop.”
You hum in agreement, waiting to see what his next move is, which is to sink of of his thick fingers right inside your cunt and to lean forward underneath you enough so his tongue is moving against your clit. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out - if there’s one thing college boys don’t do, it’s this.
You’re not sure how long he stays down there, lapping at your clit and slowly moving that finger inside you, but you know you’d have stayed there all night if you could, teetering just on the edge until he felt like finishing you off.
There’s a whine that leaves your mouth when his lips leave you - the finger that was inside you also gone, but he swaps them again - soaked fingers rubbing at your clit whilst he literally sucks the wet from your cunt, like a man who has gone without water for months. The hand that he’s hand pressed to your ass cheek is gone too - you can hear him fumbling with his belt and the movement of material somewhere along the line too, then, he’s groaning into your cunt.
You turn your head a little, but you can’t see him well enough to confirm what you think he’s doing - lapping at your cunt and circling your clit whilst he’s fisting his own cock.
“Are y-you-” You choke out, trying to keep your moans quiet as you feel the coil tightening in your tummy, “Are you touching yourself?”
Joel’s fingers continues its movement across your clit but his mouth leaves you, “Course I am,” He confesses, “Couldn’t help myself, sugar.”
“Just-” You trail off, a small, quiet moan slipping through the cracks of your resolve, “Put it inside me Joel.”
“Not yet,” He says, “Gotta make you cum first.”
“M’close,” You breathe out, pushing your hips back a little to get him to go back to what he was doing before, “Please Joel, I wanna cum.”
“Go on then, baby,” He coos, tongue back to licking at your wet hole, “You can let go.”
You feel your cunt pull tight and your knees buckle and your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as his fingers expertly push you over the edge. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, begging for him to slip himself inside you so you have something to clench around as the hot furl of pleasure drifts like electric across your skin.
“Good girl,” You can hear him murmuring behind you, “So good bein’ so quiet like that.”
You’ve barely got time to recover before he’s standing up and pressing into you from behind, his lips wet and hot across the skin of your shoulder, a trail of wet being left from the drag of his beard where your slick has gathered.
“I don’t have anything on me,” He breathes into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe, “You got anything?”
You shake your head, “I’m clean though, I promise,” You speak softly, feeling him press his cock through your folds, “And I’m on the pill.”
He’s dragging his cock back through your folds, letting the head of it nudge slightly at your entrance, “You let anyone else fuck you bare before?” His hot breath asks into your ear.
“N-no,” You confess, “Only you.”
You can feel him press himself forward a little bit, feeding the tip of his cock into your cunt. There’s no doubt he’s big, bigger than you’re used to, but there’s no ache, not even when he pressed his hips further forward until you can feel his skin against yours and he’s buried fully inside you.
“Jesus,” He chokes out, “Fuckin’ Christ you feel good.”
Joel brings a hand up to rest against your throat, but it’s only to guide your eyeline to the mirror in front of you. He’s crowding behind you, hot and heavy against your back as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cock from your cunt and back in, chuckling against the skin of your cheek when you smile and giggle as the tip of him nudges at the very depths of you.
“You look good like this.” He whispers.
“We look good like this.” You counter, struggling to breathe a little as he picks the pace up, hips hitting into the meat of your ass on every thrust.
“We do,” He smiles, dragging himself off you a little to rest his hand on the back of your neck instead, “You like watching yourself get fucked, baby?”
You can’t speak anymore, the angle of his cock brushing against something inside of you which has you struggling to keep yourself quiet, so you just nod your head and let him press you further down into the counter, holding you still with his firm hand on your neck as he really starts to fuck you now.
You’re glad you can hear the music from the garden from here - means your dad has it turned up loud enough that no-one would be able to hear the squelch of your pussy on every thrust or the sound of your skin slapping together as Joel speeds up. It feels too good, you feel too full and you can feel that tightening coil again, feel the clenching of your cunt around his cock.
Looking into the mirror, you can see he’s in a similar state to you, his eyes angled down to watch his cock disappear into the heat of your cunt each time, sweat gathering along his brow. He sounds good too - small grunts on every thrust and a suck of breath whenever you constrict around him.
“One more, baby,” He urges, “Want to feel you cum on my cock, okay?”
He shifts his position a little so he’s fucking up into you - head of his cock pounding against that spot inside you that only you’d been able to find until now. It makes your legs shake and you have to bite down on your fist when he makes you cum again to stop yourself from crying out - tears springing at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as he talks you through it, tells you how pretty you look and how good you’re being for him.
“M’gonna cum baby,” He warns from behind you, “Where d’ya want it?”
You have no sense in your head anymore, he’s fucked it from you thoroughly, so you say the first thing that comes to mind - beg him to cum inside you, to fill you up. It’s safe, of course it would be, but you’re glad that somewhere in the haze of it all, he’s got more sense than you, pulling himself out of your cunt at just the last second, resting it against your ass as he spills across the skin of your lower back with a growl of your name on his mouth.
There’s silence as the two of you suck in breath to your lungs, letting your senses come back to you. Joel is quiet as he steps back and pulls his jeans back up to dress himself. He uses some tissue to clean you up, inspecting the hem of your dress for any stains he might have left before he’s dragging your panties back up your legs.
You have a try and fixing your hair, wetting your fingers from the sink to try and tame the flyaways, wondering if he’s going to walk away and leave you, but he doesn’t, he just stands behind you and waits for you to finish.
“I hope that was okay?” He offers sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck when you’re done.
“I asked for it,” You smile at him, “It was fine Joel.”
“Only fine?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.
You chuckle and slap him playfully on his arm, “Best I've ever had,” You offer, “Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” He chuckles, moving to unlock the bathroom door before he turns back to you, “We don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”
You make a sign of a cross above your heart, “Not a soul.”
784 notes · View notes
shooting-love-arrows · 7 months
Note
Omg im so in love with househusband,he is sl adorable i wanna keep him in my pocket and protect him from the world!!!!
Does househusband have an official name? And if rq are open yet,how would he be like with a spouse that can be very protective and possessive with him?
- 🌟 anon
Dear 🌟 anon,
Well, you certainly can keep him in his pocket! He wouldn't mind one bit. (He'll crawl there at any given ti —) As for now, he doesn't have an official name.
@shooting-love-arrows
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 with overprotective/possessive! reader
PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x [OVERPROTECTIVE/POSSESSIVE] reader (gender not specified) Tw. reader is a walking red flag, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, questionable things
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The moment you said your wedding vows, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 pledged to wholly belong to you. His body, mind, soul and everything that made him well…him.
What I mean is that he probably expects you to be overprotective/possessive over him. In his eyes, it means that you care, love and crave him just like he does you. Besides, those books 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 read in his early youth always implied that your partner should act like that as it’s a clear sign of their strong affection.
In conclusion, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 definitely doesn’t mind your behavior/personality and in fact finds it endearing. He becomes compliant when it comes to you so he has no problem accepting how you act towards him. In fact, he finds it sweet and he hopes you’ll continue doing so <3
✿ BONUS ✿
Some of his favorite you do because of your possessiveness/overprotectiveness:
Marking him. There are many ways to mark one's territory but 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 likes it the most when you give him love-bites (hiskeys). Although it’s considered highly inappropriate to leave marks where others can see them, he likes them to be on his throat, especially just above the pearls you gave him. It was a clear sign to everyone that he was off the limits. And he has something to gossip about with his besties in the club (they're definitely jealous and wish to be in his place but shhh! That’s a secret.).
“Is…” A nameless househusband lowered his voice and leaned in closer to 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 “A love bite?” “Yes” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 out his chest and raised his head higher, proudly displaying the fresh hickey you made this morning.
Make him match his clothes with you. It began long at the very early stage of your courting. On your first date, when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 came dressed in his best outfit which unfortunately wasn’t matching yours, you wrinkled your nose and told him: “this won’t do”. And so you took him into one of the most luxurious clothing shots, where you choose his outfit so it would be matching yours. Right there and then, he was ready to propose and get married. 
Your interrogations. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 loves sharing information with you about his day in detail. Every question thrown his way, he’ll answer honestly. He has no problem telling you who he was with? What was he doing? Did someone bother him? Might I say, sometimes he’ll stretch the truth just to make you jealous and let your possessiveness/overprotectiveness shine. Especially when he feels horny and just wants you to ravage him on the spot.
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grind-pantera · 15 days
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Noa x Human! Reader Imagines.
A/N : I am a beacon of sin. Likes and reblogs always appreciated. Thanks y'all!! I do have more Imagines if you guys are interested. Please, please let me know!!! Thanks again. Hope y'all enjoy. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the )Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x Human! Reader. Rating: K. ( Fluffy again, some other mentions of Ape Aggression but nothing too bad/vivid. ) ** Does contain spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.
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Noa unequivocally staring you down. -Ultimately, how the relationship really started. Noa was definitely a lot more subtle about it in the beginning - not sure how he truly felt about you, about… it. He would sit and pass time by watching, no no… Stalking your movements, how they might have varied from how he or any other Ape would move. The way your legs shaped when you walked, the way your hands grasped at things, the way your eyes laid bare everything he needed to know. Echo’s were so easy to read from expression alone and Noa yearned for that, metaphorically reaching his hands out in some feeble attempt that you would grab. He found himself occasionally mimicking your movements to himself when alone, laughing at how utterly awkward they felt to him. He’d shut his eyes then and think about it a bit more.
-He would intensely stare into your eyes whenever you talked one on one. He kept his gaze on you when around others, but not as intense as it was when he had you all to himself. Green, amber and gold speckled eyes followed the minute details of your face, almost down to the wrinkles around your eyes, only reserved when you blessed him with a smile. Rare, but he enjoyed it none-the-less. He sensed, after doing it a few times, that it made you nervous. Your heart raced - Noa swore he could feel it in his feet and something about that made him swell with pride. He’d boost his chest out, wanting to appear more suitable to you, more appealing, more… more… irresistible if you looked at him. But… Then, you would look away quickly, uttering something under your breath to take the attention away from the tension now obviously swirling around the two of you. Noa… He kept his eyes on you, regardless. Though, now it seemed you weren’t aware he was looking so closely.
-As time went on though, and he developed a more personal relationship with you, it… Changed. Noa couldn’t tell anyone why it did, why his eyes would pierce you so deeply, almost to the point where it felt like they were taking you down, further down than you had ever been and you were drowning in golden flecks surrounded by more shades of green than you could count. It left a burning sensation in the back of your mind, almost like bile. It was noticeable, even meters away from him but you buried it deep inside. Secretly, you liked it. Not-so-secretly, Noa knew that you did. He couldn’t explain why you were always in his line of vision, why he felt the need to make his gaze known to you, known to others… Known to others, he thought to himself. At least… Known to anyone he considered a threat. It just was what it was now.
-There were some shameful stares such as the absolute disintegration of another Ape when Noa caught the two of you together during communal dinner time. Mind you, it wasn’t just yourself and this Ape, named Ale, you were also with Anaya, Soona and Noa’s mother, Dar. But, Noa couldn’t separate that anymore. There was just you. He figured you’d be okay with his friends and mother, no one would bother you, you didn't need to be protected from them. But this familiarity with an Ape outside of his inner circle…? No, no. Noa didn't move from his ponderance, looking between you and this Ape on your left side. The fire roared in front of you, obscuring Noa from your view as you explained to Ale that humans often used utensils to eat if available. Noa saw you sign through the vivid orange fire, ‘Not messy.’
Ale shrugged his shoulders and held up a berry before popping it into his mouth, ‘Easier with hands.’
That made you laugh, but the lurch of Noa towards your new friend at your reaction was… Not as funny and it took Dar to finally get him to stop staring down one of his own, intimidatingly, refusing to break eye contact. Noa’s pupils were absolutely blown away, no trace of green or gold to be found. He was broad chested, and you took note that Noa was pushing himself up to appear bigger, more fierce.
Noa signed too fast for you to understand, too abrasive… Words split themselves here and there. ‘Mine’ you got that, ‘stop’ was another, ‘back off’ maybe… but your analysis was all in vain regardless. The gaze he was giving Ale said it all, at least, it did to you, and you wondered if his friends knew the look. Soona questioned Noa silently, but he didn't bother with an answer. Anaya looked between Noa, you and Dar. And based on Dar’s reaction to it, her ability to stop it, she’d seen it before. Maybe even had it happen with Koro when they were younger. You didn't want to ask, you didn't want to pry… But, you watched in baited silence as Noa stood down and huffed at you before pacing off to the right. He had no idea what came over him, but he did what he felt like he needed.
Noticing your scent. Noa was unsure of the feral feeling that the situation gave him when he noticed it beyond just the scent of an Echo. It was yours. He had to deal with Anaya every so often saying something sarcastically about it, about how different it was and that they’d be able to smell you at least a click away, but Noa always shrugged them off.
Pensively, Noa shut his eyes. He was steadily resting back on his feet, crouching and sitting comfortably on his bent legs. Hunching forward, he grasped the ground with his hands, tangling them into the grass below him. Anaya was right. Your smell was very different from the Apes he was often around. He could point out his mother, a few infants that were following her around, Soona… Drawing a deep breath in, he felt like he was suffocating and his ribcage was expanded as far out as it would go without causing intense discomfort.
There was something different. Something almost intoxicatingly sweet. Disgustingly, Noa thought to himself and let his eyes slide open. He looked down at his hands, having now ripped grass out of the Earth. It was like he had tasted the most delectable berry of all time and now he was lingering in the smell that was left behind on his fingertips. He wanted to grab you, hard. Grab you roughly and pull you against him, never let you go, let his strength come in handy in a way that was outside of climbing. He’d consume all of you if you would allow him, he’d do more than that in fact. He’d let himself sink into you both physically and mentally, throwing away caution. Teeth sinking into fragile skin, minds entangling in a brutal dance. Your sweat pouring into his mouth, escaping onto his taste buds. Thoughts now in his mind, messing Noa up. They weren’t just his anymore, they were also yours. He was morbidly curious just how sweet you must have tasted when the smell alone left him feeling the way he was. He was deathly ill wanting to know what you were thinking.
All things made him bare his teeth for a split second, canines glistening in the setting sunlight. Tossing the grass in his hands down on the ground aggressively, Noa sat up completely, almost barrel chested before throwing his body into gear as he finally moved to pace followed by a quick saunter. He needed to find out where your scent was coming from before he unraveled at the seams.
Hand holding. -Definitely a thing you tended to gravitate towards more than Noa. He often liked to keep his hands free to tinker around if needed or to fix something, it was after all, one of his most favorite things. He knew moments when you liked it, or rather… Needed it. Noa with you would do anything to cause him a surge of pride, and that included holding your hand.
-He was cautious about it at first, not sure how to react when he felt the side of your hand against his own. He had gruffed then, avoiding eye contact and you didn't try again.
-The second happenance was accidental. You had slipped on ice, Noa faster to react than you were and he was right in front of you before you had the chance to even brace your hands in preparation of falling. Swallowing softly at the sudden closeness of him, there was obvious heat that rose in you. “T-Thanks.”
Noa’s shoulders shifted as he helped you stand straight up again, your eyes coming to rest on his shoulders as Noa was just a touch taller than you were. Just a bit taller, but given circumstances, he was very strong. “Very… unbalanced.” He said to you in a deeper voice than he intended.
You nodded in agreement, looking down at your feet and then the trail that Noa wanted to take. It appeared icy regardless, and you were mentally preparing yourself to transverse. “Maybe we should have taken a horse.”
He sighed, the movement very apparent to your gaze as you looked over at him. Without a word, Noa held his right hand out. There was suddenly a lump in your throat. Was he…
“Take.” Noa uttered.
You hesitated, clenching your hands to the point where your fingers were slightly whitened.
“You don’t take, you end up on your---”
It was your turn to be faster than light, heart thundering in your chest wildly at the concept of what he was offering to you. You raised your right hand and grasped at his, almost clapping them together from the velocity you put forward. It was just a cupped hand holding, something you knew he would be semi-comfortable with as there was no strict intimacy. He rounded on his feet, much more balanced than you could ever be and began moving forward once again, careful of where he put his gait and hoped that you were smart enough to follow his exact footsteps. You let him move, your arm out-stretched awkwardly as you hadn’t moved in tandem with him. You needed to move, you mumbled inside of your head. You need to move.
You were frozen. And it only took Noa one more step before he tumbled down, ultimately being brought down by your inability to take any more action. You had pulled him down, by default. Your mouth flew open as he laid flat on his back, hands disconnecting at the fact that he had fallen. “Noa---”
He groaned finally, having taken a second to process what happened. “I gave you my hand to help you and you--”
“I’m so sorry.” There was a small touch of a laugh behind your words as Noa just… Rested. He didn't move aside from putting his hands on his chest, flat palmed almost like he was checking for any damage. The fall itself wasn’t bad, but there was ice speckled all over the ground and he couldn’t tell if he fell on any sharp objects. “Here.” You reciprocated the movement Noa had previously given, holding out your hand to help him up.
‘No.’ He signed at you, eyes squirting to gaze up at you due to the sun now angling right at the two of you.
“Noa---”
He shut his eyes and raised his hand, to the left and then to the right as his fingers grazed yours ever so gently. He allowed you to cup his hand. Admittedly, you were unsure if you were able to lift him on your own, and he must have known that. He must have…
“Shit!” You yelled, being tugged down by Noa. It was obvious he didn't use all his strength to do so, just enough to get you on the ground right next to him. It wasn’t a hard fall like his either, you landed relatively gently next to him but still felt like the air had left your lungs, “Ow.”
“Ow.” He said as well, allowing a moment to look at you next to him. The way your hair splayed out on the icy rock, the slight blush of your face. Noa figured that was from the cold, you had no fur to keep you at least sheltered from the winter winds. The last thing to process for both of you were your hands, now deeply entangled within each other. You could feel the sensation of leather, that must have been how his skin really felt… It was enticing, and you wanted nothing more than to trace the palms of his hands with your delicate hands. There was fur encasing his knuckles, thicker this time of year than it was during the late spring and peak summer… Actually, Noa’s hand almost eclipsed yours completely but you weren’t going to complain as you let your eyes fall shut. You’d get up in a few minutes despite your mind telling you over and over to stay.
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junkissed · 2 months
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member — woozi x f reader genre — fluffy comfort smut word count — 0.4k synopsis — soft sleepy bedtime sex with jihoon warnings — descriptions of female anatomy notes — based on this pic of woozi bc i thought @onlymingyus could use something nice. i whipped this up on my phone super fast so pls forgive the formatting sorry it's short
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imagine soft sleepy sex with woozi: it's late at night, almost totally dark with just a soft lamp on in the background. he's laying on the bed looking up at you as you straddle him, his gaze lazily following your movements as you slowly roll your hips back and forth. it's quiet, the pale moonlight filtering in through the cracks in the window blinds and the only sounds the hushed gasps and soft moans as his cock kisses your walls with each circle of your hips.
the room is cold enough to keep the covers pulled up around your hips as you sit atop him, completely covering his bottom half with the big white comforter without getting overheated. you're wearing one of his big cozy t-shirts, and he slides one hand up your shirt to play with your boobs while his other hand is in your mouth letting you suck on his fingers. he loves to praise you like this, telling you how good you're riding him and how sexy you look in this lighting right before bed, how soft your tits are and how wet your pussy is around him, doing all the work and letting him just sit there. he loves the way your tongue swirls around his fingers, sucking him in the same way your pussy sucks him in, so warm and wet and wonderful.
and then when both of you can't take it anymore he grips your waist and rolls you over onto your side so he can rut into you from behind, slow and lazy and smooth while he kisses your shoulder and nibbles at your earlobe. his hands are draped over your body, one hand resting on your stomach so he can feel the motion of each thrust as he enters you. his warm breath tickles the back of your neck as he whispers more praise into your ear, how perfect you are for him just the way you are. 
and then you feel his body tense and he lets out a soft groan under his breath and he cums inside you and you feel your whole body flood with warmth inside and out. and then after a few soft seconds he leans behind him to shut off the lamp with a satisfied sigh, and he wraps his arms around your body again and snuggles into you, spooning until you both fall asleep. 
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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rebeltarot · 3 months
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YOUR UNIVERSE ➕ Who are you becoming now, and who are you meant to become?
"We can’t become what we need to be by remaining what we are."
[3 piles] ・ [3 decks] ・ [10 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, signs, songs]
Hello friends! It's almost International Women's Day, and I am so excited to share this reading with you. We are focusing on who you are becoming now, and who you are meant to become! Are you planning on rebranding yourself? Definitely let me know. I hope you'll enjoy this reading as much as I did doing it. See you on the other side! 🤭🤭🤭
Painting: The Rehearsal of the Ballet Onstage - Edgar Degas (1874)
Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 01 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
E, blank, E, I, 8th House, North Node, Cancer, "be fearless, change is good"
Song: BESIDE U - MONSTA X, Pitbull
CARDS
Tarot: 10 of cups, the wheel of fortune, 7 of pentacles, king of cups
Oracle: pioneer, the spymaster, deer, Martyr, the brawler, moose
WHO ARE YOU BECOMING NOW?
Hello, Pile 01, and welcome to your reading. Currently, you are becoming someone with overflowing cups. You have much love and happiness to give and share with others. It feels like you are aligning with who you are and what brings you joy, which leads to fulfillment and a sense of belonging. I see harmony playing a huge role here. You are finding your balance and being at peace with yourself. This new version of you that you are growing into is collecting a lot of good karma. Things are moving and developing in your favor. You are in the midst of a transformative stage that leads to a lot of luck and positivity. You are going to become someone who welcomes change and strives to move with integrity. You are sharing your wealth, and you are swimming in your own passions and good fortune. It's so interesting to me because, essentially, this describes a creator, someone who is open to new experiences and open to trying and creating new things that others have not done before. It also reminds me of cycle breakers. This new version of you holds a lot of empathy and grace. You are learning and unlearning a lot right now, and I feel like you are going to be smart with the knowledge you attain. There is still a sense of distrust here, meaning that while, yes, you are growing into this person with an abundance of love to give and happiness to experience, you are not yet fully trusting that reality. Meaning that you are still in the beginning stages; it's new to you. You have figured out a lot of things, and positivity is already manifesting for you, but it feels like it has not been long enough and you have not collected enough positive evidence vs. the negative experiences. It feels fragile still. You are, however, being a lot more gentle with yourself. The person you are becoming right now wraps everything in love. Your first go-to move is to meet the situations you encounter with tenderness and compassion. You are healing right now with the power of love, and the person you are growing into can see the light and good in all things and situations. The reason is that you are finally seeing your self-worth, and you're acknowledging your grace. Beautiful. 
WHO ARE YOU MEANT TO BECOME?
You are meant to be a seeker, someone who keeps searching for new ways and new opportunities. You are not meant to sit idle; instead, you are supposed to become a person who is continuously striving for new ways and solutions. A thinker and a pioneer. You are meant to dream and implement. To move past illusions, find multiple ways and solutions to problems and situations. You are meant to be a dreamer and an idealist. Someone wise and diplomatic. Holding a lot of compassion and being devoted to the good and beautiful things in life. You are meant to become a person who can balance the head and the heart. Being of service to yourself and others is your cause and purpose in life. You are meant to use your knowledge and creativity for that. You are meant to help and support those around you who are hurt by bandaging them up and guiding them towards empathy. Helping others confront themselves and their lack of compassion and grace for themselves and others. You are meant to let your head and mind reach to the stars, yet stay grounded on the earth. Listening to your inner knowing and your attained wisdom to guide others through their journey. You are meant to be a guide because you have learned a lot and know a lot. 
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 02 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
D, I, C, T, S, Aquarius, Venus, 6th House
Song: Out of luck - Tkay Maidza, Lolo Zouaï, Amber Mark
CARDS
Tarot: 7 of wands, the emperor, 6 of wands, 6 of cups
Oracle: hawk, athlete, the heir, sea turtle, advocate, the poet
WHO ARE YOU BECOMING NOW?
Hello, Pile 02, and welcome to your reading. You are becoming a person with a lot of stamina, capable of persevering through challenges and competition. You can protect yourself; you are willing to work on yourself and do the difficult things if it means that it helps you progress and grow. You are not backing away from a challenge; instead, you are running towards what scares you. I see you becoming someone who is disciplined and who creates stability and success. You can rely on yourself, and you take charge and control over your life by putting in the action needed to move forward. Truly impressive. You are also becoming more observant; you are taking in the information you can collect, and you are opening up your vision to any signs around you, guiding you, and relaying a message to you. It's like you have gotten rid of the blinders that kept you from seeing, and now you are going through life with 20/20 vision. You can determine your priorities and focus on them by eliminating any distractions. You are being honest with yourself and working with who you are instead of against you. You are aware of your 'weaknesses'. Honestly, the work you are putting in right now is truly valuable and opens up a bright future for yourself. You are allowing yourself to succeed. The person you are becoming is not afraid anymore of success, and you are stepping out of your way, ascending to new heights. Whatever limits you might have had before, you are transcending them. You are developing your willpower and strength of spirit, which makes you honestly unstoppable. You are now seeing your unseen potential, and you are wearing that crown without any hesitation.
WHO ARE YOU MEANT TO BECOME?
You are meant to be someone who is in harmony, in alignment, and able to pivot when need be. The person you are meant to become is a winner; you are meant to experience success, win, and gain public recognition for your efforts and fame. You are meant to progress, grow, and move forward. The person you are growing into is confident in themselves; you are meant to walk with your shoulders straight and your head held high. You are destined to be someone! The fame aspect can be global or related to your industry or community, but either way, you are meant to be acknowledged. You are predestined to be an inspiration. I feel like this heavily relates to childhood dreams and innocent intentions. You are meant to be someone joyful, someone who looks back on your life with happiness. You are supposed to be someone who holds a lot of goodwill and can reach out their hand to others with positivity and appreciation. I see you being meant to be a protector. You are destined to master finding life's flow and to be in harmony with the rhythm of life to unfold your path. You are supposed to become a hard-working person who perseveres. Your mastery of yourself will protect you and lead to a lot of happiness and fulfillment. You are meant to inspire others to put compassion into action as well as be an advocate, someone who uses their public attention and recognition to channel it into growth. To advocate for important causes that allow humanity as a whole to move forward and transform. Through your connections and through your words, you are meant to lead with vulnerability and honesty. With the feather pen, a part of this pile is certainly meant to become writers or public speakers of some sort. Some might become poets or musicians, too. 
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© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 03 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
A, A, O, N, Aries, Mercury, 9th House
Song: is it new years yet? - Sabrina Carpenter
CARDS
Tarot: 9 of wands, 5 of wands, Knight of wands, 3 of cups
Oracle: dragonfly, mystic, the founder, owl, don Juan, the dancer
WHO ARE YOU BECOMING NOW?
Hello, Pile 03, and welcome to your reading. You are currently becoming resilient. Nothing can stop you as you courageously persist through whatever challenges you are met with. You are mastering setting boundaries, and you are guarding yourself and your peace. I do feel like you are becoming someone who does not shy away from conflict or opposition. Instead, you are welcoming diversity and opposing opinions to strengthen your muscles. What's interesting in your pile is how magic plays a big role both in who you are becoming now and who you are meant to become. The owl and the dragonfly are both associated with that keyword. You are openly embracing transformation and change. And you are courageously letting go of the past, allowing the magic of nature that is in you to highlight your brilliance and your blessings. I also see you embracing the divine more intimately in your life; take this however it resonates for you. For some, this talks about religion; for others, it talks about spirituality; and for another portion, it relates to practices such as tarot, etc. Either way, you are growing closer to the divine and embracing your inner wisdom. I see you also building something valuable and stable. You are founding something and birthing something brand new to you that has not existed before. I see you laying sustainable and stable foundations and building yourself a community that will last. You are heavily investing in your "village.". 
WHO ARE YOU MEANT TO BECOME?
Who you are meant to become is someone inspiring and energetic. Your future self is supposed to take inspired action and follow your intuition. You are meant to be impulsive and adventurous, spontaneous, and take on any challenge that presents itself to you and that you find interesting enough to face and engage in. I see you being meant to play an integral part in a community of people that you have built, creating new things together, brainstorming, and birthing something essential in union with other people. It could very well be a community of something. Either way, it's magical and relates to your inner vision and wisdom. You are meant to choose to see the truth and see through deception. You are destined to let the past go and make room for a better life, so you can experience the good life. The person you are meant to become is supposed to rise because magic and wisdom are your birthright. I also feel like you are meant to lean into your seductive qualities. You are charming and persuasive; own that. You are destined to be free and to dance to your beat. Self-expression and inner strength are really big factors in who you are meant to become. To show up authentically in a one-size-fits-all world takes a lot of courage and strength, and you are destined to do exactly that. Show your true self and follow your intuition; it will never lead you astray. 
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© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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armysantiny · 2 months
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-[Xavier; soft bf headcanon
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P: Xavier x gender-neutral reader | G: fluff, headcanon | Inc: canon-compliant, nap times with Xav, Xav being a supportive office bf lmao| Wc: 456 | W: some under the shirt touching but nothing much| R: PG-13
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Usually, I start off these headcanons with how I think the pre-relationship bond formed
But the game does already that for me, so thank God for that
I will say, the moment he became your boyfriend, Xavier has this cute ass smile sorta just etched onto his face for the next 24 hours
He’s so unbelievably happy he gets to have a romantic relationship with you in this timeline
All that backtracking was worth it because you can both be together
He adds a cute heart emoji to your contact name (which is already a nickname <33) and makes his profile picture a selfie of both of you
Suddenly his camera roll starts filling up with candid pictures of you
Not mentioning all the times you nick Xavier’s phone to take snaps of him sleeping to tease him with later
He gives you a copy of his apartment key and a little galaxy keychain
“So you can come in whenever you want”
Doesn’t tell you that he hopes you’ll be over all the time, if not just move in permanently
He’s given you full jurisdiction of his kitchen
By which I mean you have forbidden him from making anything that requires extensive use of cooking equipment
For all his cooking ‘skills’, Xavier has a concerning track record of blowing shit up in his kitchen
That aside, you do get pulled into nap times with him pretty frequently, whether you’re also sleepy or not
Xavier likes having you in his arms <33 helps him sleep better or so he says
His favourite place to wrap his arms around is your waist
Just holding you close while he powers down for a few hours
Not to mention how he likes slipping hands under your shirt every now and then <3
Sure, he’s getting his much-desired sleep, but teasing you is definitely on the table, and all in good fun
Especially when the way your breath hitches echoes in his ear~
Boosts his ego just a little, but shh~
Moving on!
Xavier isn’t one to broadcast your relationship to everyone in your office, but he’s definitely not going to hide it
Why should he?
He brings coffee and snacks to your desk when you’re filling out reports and paperwork, patting your back with a good job midnight before returning to his own desk
Gentle fleeting touches when you’re battling Wanderers together
The occasional hand kiss when you’re walking home
Xavier is very adamant on you not overworking yourself
So, he may or may not have convinced Captain Jenna a few times to hand him some of your missions when he sees you looking under the weather
Can’t be Linkon’s best hunter if you’re burning yourself out, now can you?
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asonorouslullaby · 7 months
Text
In The Shadows
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Purge Alternate Universe
Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru
A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please &lt;3 and if you actually read all of this ily
summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.
warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3
genre - Oneshot
wc - 7.2k
~spelling and grammar fixed already~
Edit - the top photo 6/11/23
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The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.
Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.
They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple. 
Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe. 
She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.
Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones. 
She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.
The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm. 
Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours? 
Maybe. Yes.
Was it working? Absolutely not.
She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened. 
‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’ 
The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount. 
Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag. 
She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.
Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly. 
Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.
Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.
She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable. 
Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.
Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.
Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.
As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start. 
It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again. 
Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure. 
It was 1:43 pm.
A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit. 
‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.
With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy. 
With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store. 
Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic. 
Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard. 
Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her. 
Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.
As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’
Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’
And then they were gone. 
It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her. 
Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps. 
Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax. 
Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge. 
She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there. 
The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc. 
They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.
But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention. 
It was 5:15 pm.
This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside. 
After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside. 
The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door. 
After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.  
The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.
Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.
Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.
Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together. 
“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..
Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”
Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.
“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them. 
Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.
“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation. 
When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”
Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”
After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.
Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”
Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.
And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.
“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.
Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.” 
They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching. 
Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.
It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.
Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.  
Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.
This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.
This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.
It was 6:59 pm.
At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.
They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.
“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”
Don gulped.
“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”
Erica huffed.
“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.” 
Y/n shivered.
“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”
She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.
No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent. 
The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.
Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present. 
Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly. 
“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle. 
It was 7:36 pm.
This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.
A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.
They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.
A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.
Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.
It was 8:02 pm. 
This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them. 
Wherever it was, it was concerning. 
Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.
It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.
Clacking down the hallway. 
1, 2.
1, 2. 
1, 2. 
1, 2. 
They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.
All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.
The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.
The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.
Complete silence.
Another knock.
None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.
Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.
This time it was a little louder.
Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.
Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.
She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest. 
Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.
The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.
A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.
The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.
“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door. 
Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.
“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.
A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door. 
Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.
Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.
Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.
The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could. 
She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.
The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.
For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.
Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.
They were trying to break the door down. 
She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever. 
All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.
“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.
“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.
With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.
“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.
“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.
Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.
And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway. 
As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious. 
It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.
After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.
Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.
A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside. 
Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer. 
The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair. 
Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry. 
It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality. 
She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.
Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps. 
With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble. 
It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing. 
It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling. 
It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her. 
And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps. 
That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds. 
Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with. 
More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air. 
A scream.
Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’. 
It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.
She was going to be sick.
They’re hurting them. Killing them.
Her friends.
Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.
She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief. 
Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind. 
Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her. 
In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.
A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps. 
1.. 2.
1.. 2.
1.. 2.
But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time. 
And getting closer.
Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.
She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.
Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.
The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them. 
Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known. 
Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators. 
In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns,  or were carrying one of their own.
Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.
It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones. 
Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.
The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’
Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed. 
The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.
The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her. 
Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror. 
They had found her.
One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.
A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.
An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.
His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”
Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.
Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through. 
A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.
The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.
She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him. 
A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.
Rope.
Fucking rope.
The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling. 
“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.
Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.  
She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle. 
Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.
When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.
When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.
“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.
Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..
Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles. 
Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need. 
She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.
“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed. 
Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her. 
“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice. 
Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”
Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well. 
“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.
Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”
“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds. 
An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response. 
Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it. 
She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time. 
Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.
“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.
“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.
An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey. 
“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”
A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.
“Have at it.”
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