#I have so much to do and I need to sleep in the next few hours but I probably won’t yay
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gotta-winwin · 2 days ago
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hii! love the 24 hrs with seventeen event and i was wondering if i could request 3:15 a.m. with wonwoo? maybe something where he's up gaming but reader wakes up hungry and wants him to make some ramen? thank you! love your writing 💗
omg tiya hi! i love your writing too (•̪ o •̪) your christmas series with svt was TOO CUTE ! AND a request for wonwoo, the loml - straight to my heart.
3:15
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🌷part of the 24hrs with seventeen series ! request a specific time + activity/scenario to experience it with seventeen yourself !
requests are now closed for this event! thank you to everyone who requested.
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You’re kept awake by the glaring light of Wonwoo’s computer and the sound of his keyboard. No matter how many times he’s adjusted his screen’s brightness, it’s still not enough to hide his tendency to game late into the night. His roommate is sound asleep in his room, and you feel suddenly jealous - Mingyu’s obviously getting sleep - while you and your boyfriend are not. 
The only thing saving Wonwoo from your crankiness and lack of sleep is the fact that he looks back at you every time he’s waiting for the next round to load, his eyes full of adoration and mild amusement as you grump. “You love watching me play.” He’d remind you constantly, never forgetting how you had once complimented his skills and how fast his fingers could move - which eventually led to him showing you just how fast - but never mind. 
Wonwoo, who finds it adorable, how you’re restless even when tired, how you pad around his room like you own it - and you basically do. You own the owner of the room, which makes this room yours as much as it is his. It’s evident you’ve colonized his place by the sheer amount of trinkets that are yours, your own drawer, your own section of his shelf for your romance books. He’ll never admit to it, but he’s read through almost everything you bring over, cringing at some - but secretly enjoying most. 
Wonwoo, who knows you’re bored out of your mind but trying to support his interests nevertheless. He’s a perceptive man - he sees your eyerolls whenever he tries schooling you on computer terms you’re unaware of, or how your shoulders shake from a silent sigh whenever he’s yelling out his gaming terms, passionate and on call with his friends. He loves you for just trying because he knows what his interests are aren’t for everyone. 
Wonwoo, who can only smile at you amusedly when you nudge his leg from your side of bed, sprawled out so you can reach him at his gaming chair. His lips thin into his infamous smile when you quietly ask him for ramen, stating that waiting for him to finish has gotten you hungry once again. 
Wonwoo, who wouldn’t trade your nightly routine for anything else in the world. As much as he loves gaming, he loves having a presence next to him more - liking how you’re only ever a step away whenever he needs a break from the virtual world. You make him love reality - it’s that simple. 
Wonwoo, who blows on the steaming ramen before he serves it to you, knowing the countless times you’ve forgotten and had burned your tongue. A bout of satisfaction and pride washes over him when you let out a hum of enjoyment, mumbling through bites of ramen just how much you love his cooking - even if it is just a packet of instant noodles. The satisfaction and pride far outweighs that in which he feels after a win. 
Wonwoo, who abandons his computer in favour of his bed, wrapping his arms around you as he waits for you to drift off. He would never tell you, but he’s never fallen asleep before you - relishing the few pockets of time left before he must relinquish his sight, taking off his glasses and turning you into a blurred figure beside him. He insists your beautiful even as a blurred figure, but Wonwoo likes having your peaceful face be the last thing he sees before sleep comes for him too. 
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marvel-spidey · 3 days ago
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We’ve Still Got Time
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Summary: After receiving some life-altering news, you try to make Bucky understand that it's time to let the past go. Inspired by the song “Falling Slowly” (in my mind it was written just for Bucky ok 🥺) Pairing: Bucky x reader Word count: 3.1k Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, lots of tears, extreme fluff. A/n: English is not my first language, so sorry in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy! also, happy 2025 for us bucky girlies!!! our man is coming back soon! ✨
Bucky woke up to the sound of running water and a toothbrush being used. The white light from the bathroom spilled into the bedroom you both shared. The clock on his nightstand read 4:07 a.m. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to the side, realizing your side of the bed was empty. Furrowing his eyebrows, he wondered why you were up at this hour brushing your teeth. Unable to think of a reason fast enough, he decided to get up and check on you.
“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked in a confused tone, his hoarse voice carrying the weight of sleep. His hair was a little messy, and his metal arm reflected the soft light from the bathroom. He was shirtless, and his gray sweatpants hung just above his hips.
“I’m sorry I woke you, Buck,” you replied, drying your face with a small towel. “I don’t know. I think I must have eaten something that didn’t sit well with my stomach. I just woke up feeling really nauseous. I threw up, but at least I feel a little better now.”
Bucky closed the distance between you, moving toward you slowly and giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. His expression was serious, his lips almost forming a pout.
“Why didn’t you wake me up? I feel bad knowing you were sick all by yourself.”
He held your face softly, and you looked up at him, scanning his features and silently admiring how concerned he always was for you. You couldn’t understand how someone so caring could think such terrible things about himself and carry so much guilt when this was the man he really was: calm, reliable, attentive. You prayed he could see it someday, too.
“I wouldn’t wake you,” you replied, caressing his cheek gently. “I know those nightmares have been coming back these past few weeks, haven’t they?”
He looked down, ashamed he hadn’t been able to hide them from you. You always knew.
He sighed and nodded, reluctantly admitting the unpleasant truth. His nightmares came in phases. Sometimes, they haunted him almost every night with terrible flashes from his past – people he had killed, accidents he had caused, futures he had destroyed. Or worse, scenarios in which you would get hurt. Sometimes, by him. Those were the worst ones. Other times they would come less frequently, almost letting him believe that he was making progress in his “healing journey”, as you liked to call it. But they eventually came back. To him, they were proof he would never truly be at peace, never able to leave the past behind.
“Yes, as usual,” he admitted. “But it’s okay. You don’t need to worry.”
“That’s impossible,” you replied, already recognizing his habit of downplaying things and subtly pushing you away, retreating into his world of self-loathing. “I’ll always worry. I just wish you would have talked to me about it.”
“I’m sorry,” he said while engulfing you in a warm hug. He had a defeated expression in his features that made you even more worried. God knows what kind of thoughts he was having about himself. You wish you could take them away.
“Let’s just go back to sleep, so you’re rested and feeling better in the morning. Deal?” You smiled weakly and decided to let the matter go, for now. “Deal,” you agreed, letting him take your hand and guide you back to bed. For the next few weeks, you continued to have moments where you felt unwell.
You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your body started to feel different. Your stomach was more sensitive than usual, leaving you with the now-familiar waves of nausea. You felt sleepier at random moments during the day, and your stamina during training sessions at the compound suddenly diminished. You felt more out of breath during workouts and sparring. And food began to smell and taste different. One morning, the pancakes Bucky made you almost daily for breakfast smelled “eggier” than usual—you could smell the eggs in the batter from what felt like miles away.
After weeks of feeling like this, you thought it was probably due to low vitamin levels and decided you should schedule a routine doctor’s appointment soon.
But in one of your weekly sparring sessions with Natasha, you started to feel a slight dizziness, so you asked her for a time-out.
“Are you okay?” she asked, raising one of her eyebrows.
“Yeah, I just—I don’t know. I’ve been feeling kind of weak for a while now,” you admitted, closing your eyes and resting a hand on your forehead in an attempt to steady yourself. “I think I just need to get some blood work done. It’s been a while since my last check-up.” “Weak how, exactly?”
“I feel like I’m always tired lately. More worn out. And my appetite is all over the place.”
Natasha looked at you with a suspicious expression before asking an unexpected question.
“Hmm, feeling weak, huh? Have you taken a pregnancy test?”
Your eyes shot open, and you stared at her, trying to process what she had just said. “What?”
“Yes, have you?” Nat repeated, crossing her arms and leaning into one hip with a slight smirk as if she knew something you didn’t.
“I- No, I- I didn’t… My period is only two days late, which is sort of normal for me. Do you think I should?” you questioned her, not knowing if you were talking more to yourself or to her.
“(Y/n) yes, you should! Have you talked to Barnes about it?”
“Not really. I didn’t pay much attention to this. I didn’t have time to.”
The truth was, you and the whole team had been preparing for an important mission in a few months, one that had been weighing heavily on Bucky’s mind especially, since it involved Hydra. The team was set to infiltrate a secret Hydra base in Hungary in order to retrieve intel on potential undercover Hydra agents within S.H.I.E.L.D.
You were almost sure this was the reason Bucky’s nightmares had gotten worse. He tensed up every time you or someone else mentioned the mission, or during training, probably dreading the feeling of going back to a place so connected to everything that he wanted to forget. He tried so hard to hide it but for you, it was so easy to sense his anxiety. The way his blue eyes grew distant, drifting to the floor as if trying to escape his own thoughts. Or how his fists clenched, fingers pressing into his palms almost to the point of pain, while he tried to take deep breaths every time Steve went over the mission details with the group.
“Then take the test,” Natasha urged, stepping closer and putting a reassuring hand on yours when she noticed the frightened look on your face. “If you’re pregnant, you need to know before the mission. And you need to tell Barnes. You both need to decide if going on this mission is still an option.”
“But Nat” you began, squeezing her hand, feeling so scared and unprepared for the scenario she just mentioned.  “I- I don’t know if Bucky is in a good headspace for this now. He’s been so off lately. The Hydra stuff has been really getting to him.”
Natasha offered you a comforting smile, her confidence and support unwavering.
“You’ll both be fine. I’m here if you need me. And Steve is, too.” Later that same day, you found yourself in a situation you never imagined you’d be in right now.
Trembling hands, tears streaming down your face, and your heartbeat drumming loudly in your ears. A white and blue pregnancy test sat on the marble counter of your bathroom. You stared at the word that appeared on the small screen.
+ Pregnant
You froze. You looked at yourself in the mirror and blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t dreaming. You weren’t. A wave of happiness washed over you. So much happiness. It was unexpected, yes, but you had always told Bucky he would be a wonderful dad. Yet every time you brought up the subject, he’d say he would like to be a father someday, but that it probably wasn’t a good idea. According to him, he could never be a good role model for a child.
Your first thought was running to Nat or Steve. You wanted to tell one of them and hear that everything would be alright, that Bucky would be alright with all of this. But it was already kind of late. They’re probably asleep by now, you thought to yourself. At the same time, you knew the person who really needed to know about this was in the living room, watching a random reality TV show with Sam.
You couldn’t bear to be alone another minute. The anxiety was overwhelming.
You decided to text Bucky and ask him to come to your room. If you went to the living room, there was no way Sam wouldn’t notice something was up, and you didn’t need another situation right now.
“Can you please come to our room, it’s urgent.” You texted and hoped he would check his phone as soon as possible.
Not even five minutes later you heard the door of your room open, followed by anxious footsteps entering the room.
“Sweetheart? Are you okay? I just got your text.” Bucky asked, his voice filled with concern.
“Hi, love” you said, stepping out of the bathroom and faking a half smile, searching for his hand and guiding him to the bed. You were terrified but at the same time you didn’t wanna scare him. “Come with me, I need to talk to you.”
“What happened?” Bucky questioned, his eyes quickly searching your face for any clues of what might have happened. You could see the worry creeping into his expression.
You sat next to him on the bed and held his hands tightly. The cold touch of his metal hand on yours offered a brief distraction from what you were about to tell him. You took a deep breath, still unsure how to begin. You decided that starting with some context might be easier.
“So, basically, for the past few weeks, I’ve started to feel a little… off. Do you remember the night you woke up because I felt sick in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, I do” Bucky answered calmly, trying to figure out where you were going with this.
“Well, besides that, I’ve been feeling different. My stomach has been constantly upset, my appetite has been strange, I’ve been feeling more tired than usual, and I–”
“(Y/n), are you sick?” Bucky interrupted, already imagining all the worst scenarios in his head.
“Buck, no” you replied quickly, closing your eyes and trying to breathe to calm yourself down. “Listen. As I was saying, I talked about these symptoms with Nat today and she… she asked... if I had already taken a pregnancy test.”
You paused, watching his face closely for a reaction. He seemed to freeze, taking a few seconds to process your words. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath – a breath that felt heavy with sadness. It broke your heart.
He opened his eyes again and they were glistening with tears. His eyes looked even more blue than they already were.
For a moment, you considered not saying anything more, but you knew he needed to hear it – all of it.
“So, I… I took a test just now,” you continued, your voice trembling as tears began to run down your face. “And it’s… it’s positive.” You wiped your nose with the sleeve of your sweater, struggling to keep your composure.
“I’m sorry” you said crying, heartbroken because this was the reaction you had been dreading. You felt like you had ruined his life.
Now, he was the one silently crying. He still held your hands, his thumb softly tracing circles over your palm, his gaze fixed on your intertwined fingers.
“Please, say something, Bucky,” you pleaded, the silence only giving your mind space to imagine horrible possibilities.
“No, I’m the one who should be saying sorry, (Y/n),” he finally said, his voice breaking as tears slowly streamed down his face. “This baby deserves someone better. You deserve someone better.”
“What are you talking about?” you asked, reaching out to hold his cheek, your heart breaking at the words that he had just spoken. “What do you mean, ‘we deserve someone better’?”
“Yes! Yes, you do!” he exclaimed, his voice rising as he finally let the storm inside him surface. “How is this baby going to grow up knowing all the awful things I’ve done?”
He got up from the bed, putting some distance between the two of you. He was still crying quietly, and it felt like he had been keeping this inside for so long. His body was facing the window. He couldn’t even look at you.
“You didn’t do those things, Buck. The Winter Soldier did,” you spoke clearly, hoping that he would somehow believe it.
“It doesn’t matter, does it? I still did it.”
“Of course it matters! You didn’t have a choice!” you raised your voice, frustrated at how he could still blame himself so much.
“Everyone tells me that, but it doesn’t help, you know?” he replied, turning his body back toward you. His voice was low. “When I lie down to sleep, I keep seeing their faces. I can still hear their cries, begging for help, for mercy.”
“Buck, I—I’m so sorry,” you told him, holding your tears back again. You’d give anything to take his sadness away.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be free from what they did to me,” he stated, his face showing a defeated expression. “I know Ayo got the Hydra programming out of my mind in Wakanda, but still… it’s all here,” he said, pressing his index finger to his temple. “I remember all of them, and I always will.”
You got up and decided to close the distance between you. You raised both of your hands to his cheeks and held his face gently, making him look at you. You needed him to hear every word you were about to say.
“Honey, look at me,” you began, your voice serious but soft. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel. And I want you to know I’d do anything – anything – if I could to make this suffering go away. It breaks my heart to see you in so much pain and not be able to do anything-”
“No, sweetheart, but you do,” he interrupted you, wiping the tears from your face. “You have no idea how many ways you’ve saved me.”
He closed his eyes and kissed your forehead. Both of you were crying again, and you could feel all his gratitude in that one kiss.
“You save me every day. It would be impossible for me to survive those nightmares if I didn’t have your face to look at every time I wake from one of them.” He gave you a sad smile while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand resting on your cheek afterward.
You leaned into his metal hand and kissed his palm. Your eyes were once again glistening with tears.
“Do you see this, James?” you asked, hoping that he would understand what you were trying to show him.
“This is you,” you continued, placing one hand on his heart. “This is Bucky Barnes. The man who has a metal arm and touches me like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. The man who makes pancakes for me every morning. The man who’s afraid of punching me too hard in our sparring sessions, even though he knows I’m a kick-ass agent.”
“That you are,” he agreed, both of you crying and laughing at the same time. You quickly wiped his tears away.
“The man who watches trashy reality TV shows with his friend on a Thursday night. This is you. And this is the man who is going to be the father of my child,” you finished, placing his flesh hand on your belly.
He continued to cry. You just prayed that your words would finally make their way into his heart.
“So tell me, how could you say I deserve better? That this baby deserves better?”
He was still looking at his hand on your belly, trying to understand how he could still be worthy of having a family after he had destroyed so many others.
“Look at me, Buck,” you called, guiding his gaze back to you. “You suffered enough. More than enough. You’ve warred with yourself for so long. It’s time that you won.”
He closed his eyes and tried to absorb the words he had just heard. It was so hard for him to accept that he deserved happiness, but he was so grateful that you have never stopped trying.
“You made it. We’re here, and you made it. Now we’ve still got time. We’ve still got all the time in the world for you to finally live. Your life, how you want it,” you continued, kissing the palm of his metal hand again. It was your way of showing him that you loved all of him, even the part that brought him the most pain.
“This baby is so lucky to have you as a dad. And to be honest, this kid is going to brag so much to the other children about how his dad’s got a metal arm.” For the first time, you heard an honest laugh escape from his lips. The sound was wonderful.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but it must have been something really good,” he replied, finally pulling you close and giving you a warm kiss.
“I love you- we love you.”
“I’m so scared. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to… be a role model for someone.” You could see the worry in his eyes. He was genuinely scared.
“Bucky, yes, you do. You just have to be you. I don’t need you to be perfect,  I just need you to be here. Can you do that for us, Sergeant?”
He gave you a warm smile, filled with gratitude and hope - the hope you had just given him. He looked at your lips and kissed you once more, holding your belly delicately.
“Yes, I can, ma’am. Yes, I can.” he agreed easily “but.. speaking of sergeant, now there’s no way you’re going on that mission.”
“Excuse me? I’m still in the first few weeks of this pregnancy. And how about you? This baby will need both parents.”
“Okay okay, so we’ll let Uncle Steve decide who's going and who’s not. Deal?”
“Okay, sir. Deal.”
Well, you have suffered enough And warred with yourself It's time that you won Take this sinking boat and point it home We've still got time Raise your hopeful voice, you had a choice You've made it now ~~ Falling Slowly (from the musical Once)
Feedback is always welcome, feel free to comment, like and reblog! Hope you enjoyed 🤍
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rosiereveries · 2 days ago
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This is part two of ex - boyfriend´s dad John Price x reader
TW: age gap (John is in his late 40s and reader is in her early 20s), reader is in relationship with her ex-boyfriend´s dad, breeding, unprotected sex, reader is a female
Part one
John made it very clear from the biggening that he will not hide the fact that you were sleeping together. After the night you spend together at the party, he drove you home, and asked for your number. You didn’t think that he will actually call or text you. But when you walked the stairs to your apartment, you already had a message from him, that said text me when you get to your flat, so I know you’re okay.  You texted for a while and when he promised you, that he is looking for more than just some random one-night stand, you knew what you had to do.
The next morning when you woke up, you immediately texted your boyfriend telling him that you need to speak with him. After he told you that his schedule for this week was full (it was Tuesday) you knew you were making the right decision. You wanted to finish the relationship face to face, you were not a coward, and you were not afraid to break that boy’s heart. But he left you no choice. So, you just replied that he doesn’t have to bother, that you’re breaking up with him. He didn’t respond.
John’s situation was a little bit more complicated, he couldn’t just divorce his wife, yes, they signed a prenup when they got married (John was already rich), but the process of the whole divorce was time consuming and exhausting. He knew that his wife would not cooperate. But he was not a young foolish boy, who would hide his girlfriend. If he wanted to have a relationship with you, he would. John knew that his wife also had affairs, and he didn’t feel obligated to let her know about you.
So, when after some time of you hooking up, he invited you to his house for a weekend you agreed. You expected to be just with him, and you were quite excited. What you didn’t expect was when your now ex-boyfriend opened the door, asking if you came to see him. Of course, he ignored your messages, and he thought that you were still dating.
That’s how John finds you. Talking with his son, panic in your eyes realising that his whole family is home. But John doesn’t mind. He comes to you, with one hand he squeezes your ass and with the other one he holds your neck, and he kisses you, deeply and passionately. He needs to show his son, that you are his know, that he had his shot, and he fucked it up. When your ex starts to shout at you, for being a whore and sleeping with his dad, John just calmly says to him that this is his house, and if he doesn’t like what he sees, he can leave.
John’s wife reaction is pretty much the same. She tells you that John had many women over the time of their marriage, and none of them lasted longer than a few weeks. She tells you that John is maybe fucking you right now but she is still his wife. When John tells her that he is actively working with his lawyer on changing that she has a full meltdown and leaves.
When you are finally alone with John he apologizes to you. He says how sorry he is that you had to hear these things, but he wants you here now and he can’t wait any longer. He tells you sweet nothing and he kisses your neck repeating how good you are for him and how he is so grateful that he met you. When he starts to slowly touch you, creasing your breasts through your bra and gently biting your neck, you tell him that you can’t have sex with him when you know that his son, your ex, is here.
But that doesn’t stop him, he tells you that he wants to show him how good he can make you feel. In some twisted way you start to think about this as your revenge against your ex. John is right, if he doesn’t want to hear you fucking, he can leave. So, you tell John that he can continue. John bends you against the kitchen table, not waiting any longer and he starts to pull down your panties.
He tells you how long he’s been imagining fucking you here, rough and dirty and how hard it makes him. John wants to come inside you again and again. He pushes his dick into you fast, in one swift motion and you can feel him stretching you. Even though you slept with John more times that you can actually count, it is still a stretch for you. He starts to fuck you hard, and you can fell his dick bruising your cervix. When he pulls up your shirt and starts to play with your nipples you’re moans get louder. You tried to be quieter, but John knows how to make you sing for him. When you hear sounds on the upper floor you just hope that John’s son won’t come down. It is one thing to let him hear you and the other to let him actually see how his dad fucks you.
One of Johns hands slip between your tights, and he starts to rub your clit telling you to come on his cock now. You cum at the same time as John, his load spilling inside of you and your pussy milking him. After he pulls his cock out, he pulls up your panties, he gives you a smack on your ass, and he asks you if you want a tour of his home.
Then he fucks you in the shower you take together. He presses you against the glass, pounding into you like a horny teenager who can´t stop thinking about sex. Your next round is in his bed, late at night when he makes you ride him until your legs hurt. When you wake up the next morning John is already between your legs sucking and licking your clit, telling you how pretty your moans sound when you are asleep. Then, when you’re making breakfast, he asks you to return the favour, so you end up on your knees sucking his cock until he cums in your mouth.
By the end of the weekend John’s son is gone, he moves in with his friend and you’re in the house alone. Now John can fuck you whenever and wherever he wants. You do it the hot tub, in the garden and on the balcony. Every night you go to sleep with Johns cum in your pussy and you start to get worried. You take your birth control pills every day, but you’re not sure if they will work with this amount of fucking. You just hope and pray that you will not end up pregnant with John’s child, even though that is exactly what he wants. After all he needs to find a new wife and you’re the perfect candidate.
Masterlist
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eoieopda · 22 hours ago
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triple-dog dare | lsm
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“Bambi.”
The sternness of his tone surprised both of you, so much so that when you snapped to look at him, both of you froze. Your moon-sized eyes were further proof that your childhood nickname still rings true to date, although your being the deer made him the oncoming car in this scenario. 
He didn’t love that analogy.
Recovering quickly, he pulled the Ace from his sleeve: the surefire way for one of you to get the other onboard:
“I triple-dog dare you to come with me.”
pairing: lee seokmin x reader summary: when you're left off the guest list to seokmin's parent's thirtieth anniversary party, you're content to keep your questions to yourself and stay home. seokmin, on the other hand, is not content. in fact, he pulls the one card he knows will always win. au: childhood best friends to lovers genre: fluff, angst, smut type: one-shot rating: 18+ only. minors do not have my consent to interact. wc: 13k cw: pov switches, complicated sibling dynamics (seokmin’s), there is in fact one (1) bed, halmonis gone wild, stupid childhood nicknames, fingering (v), oral sex (m receiving), multiple orgasms, implied penetrative sex (p in v). reader notes: afab, uses she/her pronouns, wears a dress/heels to the party, is implicitly an only child. the setting is intentionally ambiguous, so she's not implicitly korean and/or asian. there are no descriptions of body shape/size, complexion, etc. a/n: thank you to the incomparable @daechwitatamic for beta-ing this! it's been a long damn time since i've written anything, so this might not have seen the light of day without jo, the hype-man. on that note, i suck at summaries; just read the fic, lmao. svt masterlist. svt permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist.
For being the walking disaster that he is, there have been shockingly few moments in Lee Seokmin’s life where he’s needed to shove his oversized foot into his oversized mouth.
Prior to the incident at your apartment, the last time he’d embarrassed himself like this was when he’d asked his oldest sister, Soyeon, in earnest whether or not she was pregnant, only to learn that she was just bloated; and he’s just an ass.
To your credit, you’re far from cruel when he slips up, but that almost makes it worse. You visibly deflate when he asks his well-intentioned but ill-fated question, rather than letting him have it the way his two siblings would have done.
The day in question went like this:
He asked, “Did you reserve your room yet for the 31st? If not, we can double up. It’ll be a lot cheaper.”
And you blinked, stunned like you’d been slapped. “Have I what?”
It dawned on you both at that moment that, for whatever reason, his parents’ thirtieth anniversary party was in fact news to you. Two things then happened at once: you tried to hide your surprise and the twinge of pain that comes with being excluded; and he racked his stupid brain to find any explanation for why you had to feel either one of those things.
The best option he found was to gently toss his middle sister, Seonmi, under the metaphorical bus. 
“Seonmi’s been working on something special for them. You know how she gets,” he waved dismissively. “So obsessed with finding the perfect napkins — ” He wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “— and creating custom cocktails, that she misses the forest for the trees.”
You didn’t look convinced. Likewise, you didn’t look any less uncomfortable.
Fuck.
“I’m sure it was an honest mistake.” To drive his point home, he reached from his spot on your couch to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. “I have a plus-one, so it’s not like it’ll be a logistical problem. You belong there as much as we do.”
And he meant it, wholeheartedly. 
All his life, the running joke has been that Soonyi and Minseok Lee have four kids: two biological daughters, a younger son, and his otherwise unrelated twin, who spent more time sleeping on his top bunk than in her own home next door. 
The way he saw it — and the way he’s sure his parents would see it — is that no family gathering is complete without you. That’s a hill he’d die on if need be.
You shifted in your seat, which caused his hand to slip off your knee, whether or not you meant for it to happen. Glancing uneasily out your window, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, mumbling, “I don’t know…”
Seokmin frowned. You didn’t see it, though, and therefore weren’t moved by it. Instead, you cycled through your anxious thoughts at high velocity. If he was still touching you, he’d be worried that your sparking brain might catch him on fire.
“What if it’s not a mistake? I mean, what if it’s a couples thing?” 
He couldn’t even classify these questions as rhetorical because he wasn’t meant to hear them in the first place. Though you asked out loud, each one of them was for your ears only. From his half of the couch — miles away — his frown deepened, unbeknownst to you.
“You know, Seonmi follows me on Instagram; she’d know that Kai and I broke up a few months ago. Maybe she doesn’t want me to feel awkward? Even if I went, and I didn’t feel weird about that, her expecting it to be weird might make it weird, right?”
Fuck.
You’d spiral all day if Seokmin didn’t stop you. As much as he loves how thoughtful you are, he knows better than most that you have a tendency to take it too far, inflicting that relentless consideration on yourself until it wounds. 
“Bambi.”
The sternness of his tone surprised both of you, so much so that when you snapped to look at him, both of you froze. Your moon-sized eyes were further proof that your childhood nickname still rings true to date, although your being the deer made him the oncoming car in this scenario. 
He didn’t love that analogy.
Recovering quickly, he pulled the Ace from his sleeve: the surefire way for one of you to get the other onboard:
“I triple-dog dare you to come with me.”
Begrudgingly, you’d conceded, just like Seokmin hoped you would. You sat with him while he figured out travel plans to the mountain resort, helped him visualize what the hell he needed to wear to an event like this. When the time came, you sent him half the cost for the room he booked, even though he repeatedly insisted that you didn’t need to chip in.
Now, that unsolicited sum sits untouched in his Venmo balance. You sit next to him on the night train out of town.
Sit, he thinks, is a bit of an understatement. You’re barely upright, so exhausted from your work day that his shoulder and side are bearing most of your weight. His arm went from tingling to numb an hour ago, but Seokmin doesn’t mind. There isn’t a burden he wouldn’t carry for you, up to and including you yourself.
Besides, he’s not worse off for being left to his own devices. In fact, he keeps himself thoroughly entertained by taking selfies of the pair of you. The aftermath will stay securely in his camera roll — largely because you’d kill him if you saw how squishy your face is, pressed against his coat, or how your little pout trembles slightly, almost as if you’re trying to talk through your sleep — but he still finds it worth the risk. This mochi-cheeked version of you is one of his favorites.
When Seokmin has amassed enough silly photos to comprise a dossier, he tucks his phone back into his pocket with a self-satisfied smile. You’re still out cold, so you don’t stir at his subtle movements or the sound of the concession trolley rattling your way down the aisle.
The girl manning said trolley is significantly outweighed by the thing itself. She hardly looks old enough to have graduated high school, he figures, and he can’t imagine how it is that she’s working at this hour — or how she got stuck doing this job, when it takes all she’s got to maneuver the giant metal contraption through all the train cars.
“Anything, sir?” She asks politely, albeit slightly out-of-breath. 
Even though she’s speaking to him, her gaze is directed squarely at his hat, leading him to believe that she may also be too shy for her job. Nonetheless, it’s been two entire hours since his dinner, and he’s on the brink of starving to death, so he coughs up a few bills in exchange for several different snacks. 
She could do him the kindness of assuming his massive pile of food is for sharing, but she doesn’t. She gestures to you and whispers, “Anything for your —?”
Seokmin intercepts the question, knowing exactly where it’s headed: in the same direction as the million others like it that he’s heard over the years. 
“— parole officer?” He supplies with a smile, “No, this nap is fueled by a lot of crab rangoon. She’ll be out for the duration, I fear.”
Both halves of his response seem to stun her, which means he has to cover his inevitable laugh with a fake cough. 
This bit of yours will truly never get old, although the implications that prompt it did a long time ago. It was a stroke of genius on your part, dodging inaccurate references to your relationship status by offering up something too absurd to converse around.
“You two make such a cute couple,” an Uber driver once told you.
“He’s not in a relationship,” you’d politely corrected him. “He’s in witness protection. I’m duty-bound to keep him and his identity safe.”
The silence turns awkward, so Seokmin thanks the girl and gives her a smile he hopes says, “you’re allowed to run away from me now; I won’t take it personally.” She bows her head a little too eagerly, then skitters off with a grimace, like she pulled something in her neck.
Alone again with you, he wiggles gently upright in his seat so that you can rest more comfortably against his pectoral, rather than his shoulder bone. Even though you’re still asleep, Seokmin swears he hears a quiet mmpfh, as if you’re expressing gratitude. He bites his lips to keep from smiling, knowing that smiling in your proximity is one step away from laughter: the only thing you’ve never been able to sleep through.
Instead of giving into the urge, he murmurs, “You should get paid royalties whenever we use that joke. Being as smart as you are should pay off.”
Now, he knows he’s not simply hearing things because you’re just barely loud enough to overcome your own mumbling. 
“Agreed,” you sigh on an exhale before slipping to sleep off again.
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“Well?” 
There are two beats between his first question and his next: the unfilled gap you’ve left in the conversation and the cab’s trunk shutting firmly. “‘s that cool with you?”
Seokmin stares at you, staring at him. His expression is soft, like your lack of responsiveness is something to be fond of, rather than annoyed by. It’s unexpectant, too, leaving the door wide open.
You blink. “Sorry — I — What did you say?” 
Hitting him when he least expects it, you shift your suitcase from your dominant hand so you can gesture properly to the bright, poorly crocheted bucket hat flopping over his forehead. “It’s a bit hard to hear you. That hat is so loud.”
His quizzically raised eyebrows drop in an instant. Likewise, that airy smile of his flattens into a straight line. 
Bullseye.
“Is it me that you hate?” He asks, tone dead serious as he points his finger towards his own chest. “Or is it the very concept of whimsy?”
You’re too busy biting back a grin to protest when, without being asked, Seokmin reaches out and takes the handle of your suitcase into his own hand, as well as the garment bag you’d draped over your arm. Before turning away to abscond with both sets of luggage in addition to his own, he shoots you an incredulous look. It dissolves entirely before his face even disappears from view. 
“This is an objectively delightful hat,” he mutters, nonetheless, in furtherance of the bit.
He spots a member of hotel staff standing on the sidewalk directly outside the hotel’s double doors and pleads his case to them. “She made me this hat, you know,” he announces, gesturing back to you with a nod.
The valet’s uniform hat casts a shadow under the lamplight, but it doesn’t do enough to hide the expression on their face. It is abundantly clear — even in the dark — that they didn’t hear a single word Seokmin said before he offered up that bit of trivia, seemingly apropos of nothing. They muster up a customer-service smile that doesn’t reach their eyes and tell him it’s a wonderful hat. Meanwhile, you roll your eyes from behind because nothing either of them just said is true.
That hat is the byproduct of delusions of grandeur and innumerable skeins of color-conflicting yarn. You made it for yourself, believing that you were the kind of cute and kitschy person who could pull it off; and inconsolable weeping Christ, were you wrong. It was — no, is — your greatest fiber arts failure.
Frankenstein’s floral monster would be in a secondhand shop somewhere if you’d had any say in the matter. It isn’t because you didn’t. Seokmin “rescued” it from the “to donate” pile on your bedroom floor. Since then, he’s worn it at every — public — opportunity, season be damned.
Admittedly, he’s exactly the kind of cute and kitschy person who can pull it off, but you’ve decided out of sheer pettiness to keep that appraisal to yourself.
You take your time catching up to him, both because his long legs make it hard to keep pace; and because the room is reserved under his name. After all, he’s the welcomed guest, not the reluctant party-crasher. The receptionist is already handing him a white keycard when you finally reach the desk. Seokmin holds it up between his index and middle fingers, closed-eye grin sparkling in a matching shade of ivory.
Though the journey up to your shared room is long, the real trip is being confined to an elevator with mirrors for walls. 
No matter how hard you try to avert your eyes, you manage to keep finding some new, horrible angle of your stale, post-train state. It’s torture. Three versions of you stare back with deep, dark undereye circles; and all you can think about is how dull your complexion is — especially in comparison to Seokmin, who may as well be bioluminescent with the way he glows from the inside out.
It’s joy, you know, his primary state of being and something he radiates like no other. He’s happy to be here, happy that you’re here, and happy to be happy. Whether or not he means it to be, it’s infectious. Now, you feel yourself starting to smile, too.
Despite your quiet observation, you must have missed him looking at you. Seemingly out of nowhere, he carefully sets down your belongings, raises his now-empty hand, and cups the right side of your jaw. Unaware that you’ve frozen solid, he swipes his thumb carefully over your cheek, tilting his own head to the side and frowning.
“I got you bad, huh?”
You blink.
“The zipper on my coat,” he explains, laughing. “Looks like it took a bite out of you when you used me as a pillow on the train.”
For reasons you can’t possibly explain, the only word to roll off your tongue is a sheepish, “Sorry.”
For a second, Seokmin is just as confused as you are about whether you’re needlessly apologizing to him or his coat. He chuckles quietly at how easily distracted you both are, then he gets back to the point: “Does it hurt?”
“No.” 
Your response comes unnaturally quick. Your pulse does, too, when you finally make eye contact with him. After clearing your throat, you give him a half-hearted smile, ignoring whatever medical event you seem to be experiencing. “I didn’t know it was there until now.”
He hums in acknowledgment, then rescinds his hand. You watch in silence while he re-encumbers himself with your luggage and turns back to face the elevator doors, which open almost immediately.
Seokmin steps out easily, like the weight of your respective burdens doesn’t mean a thing. “I’d say this way, please, but I’ve already forgotten the room number,” he admits with a sheepish laugh. “The keycard’s in my pocket.”
You take his cue and reach into the front, right pocket of his coat for the keycard. As soon as you see the room number, you snort.
“You booked room number 218 because that’s your birthday, and then… what? You forgot your own birthday?” 
“I’m deeply flawed.” He sighs, put-upon. “Now, let’s go, Bambi. It feels like you packed a week’s worth of bricks.”
There’s no time to point out that you never asked him to carry your suitcase or bag for you in the first place. Likewise, there’s no opportunity to ask exactly how many bricks is a week’s worth. He’s on the move again before you can blink, energy evident in each step regardless of how late it is.
Once again, you follow Seokmin’s lead. Despite the signage, which is clearly visible on the wall, he walks confidently in the wrong direction, prompting you to grab him gently by the elbow and steer him the opposite way. His smile doesn’t falter; he plays it off as if he was just testing how closely you’re paying attention. 
It takes several turns down several additional hallways before the pair of you reach your target. When you come to room 218, you tap the keycard against the reader, causing the lock to click open. You turn the handle, push the door open into the room, and step awkwardly out of the way so your personal bellhop can get by.
“This is what I was trying to tell you when you so viciously insulted my favorite accessory.” Seokmin nods his head towards the center of the room. “All of the rooms Seonmi included in the reservation block have a king-sized bed — singular. The rooms outside the block are criminally overpriced for ski season.”
It’s far from the first time you’ve doubled up, so you shrug. “Just like old times, right? Like, when you thought your house was haunted, and you forced your way into the top bunk with me?”
“First of all,” he says as he sets both of your suitcases down and places one hand on his hip, the other pointing at you. “We were six.”
After locking the door behind you, you toe off your shoes, smirking at him from over your shoulder. “What’s your second point?”
“It was haunted —” He insists. Then his stern expression melts into something smug, the way it always does when he’s about to blatantly rewrite history. “— and you asked me to come up there because you were scared.”
A laugh slips out of you automatically, but you selflessly decide to let him have this. Crossing to him, you pat him on the bicep, patronizingly simpering all the while, “You are the brave one.”
Even though you’re both cowards, and he knows it, he pockets this little victory with a pleased hum and a grin.
Turning away from him, you make a beeline for the closet area near the door. There, you shuck off your coat and hang it up, out of the way. While you do, Seokmin passes you both your garment bag and his. From there, the pair of you work in efficient silence: you, pulling your respective formal wear from their bags and smoothing out any wrinkles; him, tucking away your extensive collection of toiletries in the bathroom.
When everything is in its place, you turn back around and notice for the first time how beautiful the room actually is. Though the shades of the floor-to-ceiling windows are almost completely drawn, the snow-covered mountains are at least partially visible through the gap in fabric. If you had the time, you’d spend all day tomorrow sitting on the forest green, velvet chaise directly in front of the window, staring at frosty peaks so massive, they feel close enough to touch.
To your right, an electric fireplace heats the room, while a portrait-framed television hovers on the wall above the mantle, flipping through famous artworks as a screensaver. In between flashes of Van Gogh’s Almond Blossoms and Klimt’s The Kiss, you catch a glimpse of Seokmin’s smile reflecting on the black screen.
Awestruck, you turn to him and sigh, “Don’t let me get used to this.”
He jerks his thumb to his right, gesturing towards the bathroom. “Don’t judge me if I steal one of the bathrobes. They’re probably more expensive than half the shit in my apartment.”
“I won’t, but they’ll bill you for it when they figure it out,” you warn him. “On that note, do you need to shower or anything before I start my skincare side quest?”
Seokmin shakes his head, causing the crocheted abomination to flop. “All yours. My hair’ll get weird if I don’t deal with it tomorrow before we head out.”
And with that mental image of his insurmountable cowlick, you quickly grab your pajamas and shuffle off towards the bathroom.
The first few seconds after you close the door are spent gawking at the insanely intricate, geometric tile pattern in the walk-in shower. Thinking of how much time it must’ve taken to lay each one of them, you set to work on your own tedious task: your ten-step regimen of cleansers, toners, serums, and moisturizers. Seokmin says otherwise, but you don’t think any of them truly make a difference. As stupid as you know it is, the routine itself is therapeutic, even if your skin is no more bouncy and glowy than it was before.
When it’s all said and done, you emerge from the bathroom to find your best friend stretched out on the half of the bed nearest the door with his eyes fixed on his phone screen. It’s the side of the room he always chooses, claiming that it’s to protect you from any intruders, but you know the truth: he’s too much of a freeze baby to sleep near the window, and he knows you like it cold.
“Feeling refreshed?” He mumbles to the best of his ability; his sweatshirt hood is pulled up and drawn so tightly that it squishes his cheeks and chin, restricting his movement.
Chuckling quietly as you go, you pad over to your half of the bed and slip under the comforter. Like a moth to a flame, the other occupant sends his last text, tosses his phone to the side, and scoots closer to you, eager to siphon whatever extra body heat he can. His head winds up on your shoulder, while your cheek rests against the top of his head.
“Before you tell me that I look it, I’d encourage you to stare long into the abyss that is my under-eye circles.”
When he laughs, it’s merely a puff of air from his nose. “You never look as tired as you feel,” he says distractedly, fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “Pretty miraculous, given how little sleep you get.”
That comment warms you up so thoroughly, you wonder if he can feel it. Then, you wonder if that was the point. You intend to tease him for that, but then it dawns on you how fidgety he’s being. It’s rare for him.
“You okay, Thumper?”
It feels silly, using that nickname after so long. Your clumsiness stuck around for the ride, continuing Bambi into perpetuity; but he grew out of his companion name when he hit puberty, and his giant feet were suddenly proportional to the rest of him. 
He’s certainly no bunny, nor is he a child, but the low ebb of anxiety rolling off of him reminds you of the scared little neighbor boy you used to know. It fits, even if it is silly.
At first, Seokmin begins his explanation without peeling his gaze off his restless fingers. “Apparently, Seungcheol and Mingyu are in town.”  Then, his eyes slowly lift up to find you peering down at him. “They want to meet up to go snowboarding before we leave.”
Ah.
There it is: the top-secret look in his eye that only you can decipher. The one he’s been practicing for years, at your insistence, for moments like this, when he needs to be talked into something. When he needs to be brave and avoid missing out on something he’d love, solely because it freaks him out.
You respond the same way you always have; the way you once pinky-promised you always would: “I triple-dog dare you.”
He sighs deeply, neither fully resigned nor relieved, but then he nods. His head knocks slightly against your shoulder as he does. “I’ll do it.”
And that’s that; it’s settled.
Or so you think.
A beat passes in silence, until Seokmin suddenly pipes up again, “But you’re going to have to hold my hand on the chair lift, or I’ll pass out and fall to my death.”
“Deal.” 
You grab his hand now in consideration of your promise and scratch affectionately at his palm. Surprisingly, his thoughts haven’t made him clammy. His skin is even softer than usual, likely due to the expensive hotel lotion he’s undoubtedly now harboring in his suitcase. Tongue firmly in cheek, you look at him sideways. 
“Just — leave the hat in your suitcase, okay? The snow will be blinding enough.”
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Seokmin’s been dressed and ready for at least thirty minutes, but you’re still standing exactly where you have been for the last forty-five. Face pinched, you turn this way and that in front of the mirror, smoothing fabric that’s already wrinkle-free, apparently for the hell of it.
“I’m oh-for-three.” Your exasperated sigh is punctuated by your bare, right foot stomping on the carpet. It doesn’t make the impact you likely hope it will, at least sonically. It does, however, speak volumes about how close to the ledge you are.
“All of them looked good,” he says earnestly. “I think this one is my favorite, though, if that means anything.”
Apparently, this is the wrong answer. Your wild-eyed gaze lifts from your own reflection until you’re staring him dead in the eye through the mirror.
“Why did I even pack this?” You ask, “Do you see this?”
Suddenly, you lift a manicured hand to point at your neckline, from which he’d admittedly been averting his eyes. “This is too much cleavage for a family function, isn’t it?”
As quickly as you glanced at him in the first place, you go right back to fussing with your dress, thankfully missing the way he swallows thickly.
Fuck, now he’s staring — but you’re the one that made him look in the first place — and he can feel heat rising to ears, a dead giveaway. His sudden silence does enough to communicate his struggle. He has no idea how to respond without vaulting over the boundaries of your friendship.
Is it hot in here?
Deciding to rely on his usual tactic, he jokes his way out.
“If you think I’ll ever side against tiddie…” He forces a grimace, shaking his head gravely. “Then you really don’t know me at all.”
You laugh loudly, and whatever one-sided tension filled the room snaps like a twig. Better still, the smile you give him stays on your face while you reassess your dress. Seokmin takes it as a personal victory that you commit to his choice, rather than cycle back through your options for the second time. 
While this means that you’ll both be able to hit the open bar sooner rather than later, the biggest upside is that he no longer has to keep excusing himself to the bathroom so you can change again, and again, and again.
You finish up quickly, tossing on jewelry, and then turn to him. His shoulder keeps you steady while you slip into your devilishly high heels. Seokmin pays them little mind now, however; his attention is drawn to the accessories you’ve chosen. Sure, they match perfectly with the rest of your outfit, but that’s not what strikes him. It’s the fact that everything you’ve picked was gifted to you by his parents at one point or another.
Unable to stop himself, he reaches out and gently taps on one of your dangling earrings. “Eighteenth birthday,” he muses to himself. 
Then, both his gaze and his hand lower to your necklace. He skims his fingertip along the delicate, gold chain, inadvertently making you freeze up. “Christmas 2019?”
You shake your head slightly, though it barely counts as movement.
“Ah,” Seokmin corrects himself. “2020.”
Sensing that he’s somehow made you uncomfortable, he reels himself back in and clears his throat. “Shall we?” He asks, furnishing you with a bent arm to loop yours through.
You take his cue, link your arm to his, and sigh, “I suppose we shall.”
The walk to the elevator is quiet, in that neither one of you says a thing. Seokmin can hear the gears in your head turning, though, without any conversation to drown them out. 
You step inside that glorified, mirrored box; and for a few minutes, he lets you work through the thing he knows ruined your sleep last night. That is, until he hears your breathing come a little quicker than usual.
“Hey.” 
It was supposed to be a jumping off point. He was going to go from there and reiterate that you belong here with him. The plan was to reassure you for as long as it takes to get you to believe it, but you look up at him almost helplessly, and his Etch-a-Sketch brain is wiped clean in an instant.
The very best he can do is smile and offer a single word: “Hi.”
“Hi,” you whisper back, eyes twinkling. 
Your plagued frown curves slightly back in the right direction. The creeping shroud of doom lightens, if only a little bit.
“That’ll do, pig.” You swat his arm, but he says it again, emphatically, “That’ll do.”
Halfway through you scolding him for quoting Babe at a time like this, the elevator door reopens, ready to regurgitate the pair of you out onto the ballroom level. 
Unlike the lobby, which sits only one floor below, this floor looks like it was ripped straight from the pages of a fantasy novel. Everywhere he turns, there’s something new — and vaguely elven — to look at. Fairy lights hang in perfectly spaced arches from the lofted ceiling, delicately illuminating the exposed, wooden beams above. The chandeliers — plural — are crafted out of antlers of some kind, cutting between rugged and highly refined.
As stunning as it all is, Seokmin’s mind snags on a single conclusion. You’re the one who voices it, though, much to his surprise.
“This is the most Seonmi thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you whisper to him, all without taking your eyes off the extravagance in front of you. “Is this a dress rehearsal for her wedding next year?”
He bites down on his lips hard to keep his laughter to himself. Of course, you’re dead on. Nothing about this space feels like his parents, who are supposed to be the sole focus of this entire event. He already found it odd that they agreed to such a big to-do in the first place — especially when it would require their loved ones to go out of their way, literally and financially — but this is….
“Am I being petty, or is this kind of… selfish?”
Petty, no. 
Psychic? Probably.
“You’re right, and you should say it.” Seokmin nods and withdraws his arm from yours so that he can drape it properly around your shoulder. “This way to the beer, please. We’ll need it.”
Merely four steps in the direction to the bar, and a screech rings out from somewhere neither of you can locate. In fact, Seokmin’s head is turned the opposite way when someone launches themself at you, damn near ripping you from his hold.
“Oh, my god! I knew you’d come!”
Soyeon’s relief in seeing you is palpable. Seokmin can practically feel his bones being crushed as she hugs you tight, swaying from side to side. He catches a glimpse of your expression, which barely peeks through the curtain of his oldest sister’s hair; you’re far happier now than you were in the elevator.
His sister kisses the side of your head. “I missed you so fucking much. I love my residency program, but I hate how far away it keeps me.”
A solid minute passes by like this. When it starts to get unbearable, Seokmin clears his throat, hoping to remind his sister that she hasn’t seen him in months, either; and he’s also standing right here.
Instead of greeting him, Soyeon shoots you a wry smile. “Who is he today? A fugitive you’re harboring?”
In tandem, the two of you appraise him with thoughtfully narrowed eyes. See, this he didn’t miss: being both of his sisters’ least favorite younger sibling.
“Oh, no, though I can see why you think that.” You shake your head, then reach out to pat his shoulder patronizingly. “If anyone asks, this is a foreign diplomat, and I’m the interpreter he can’t understand a word without. Best not say hi to him; he won’t know what you’re saying.”
Soyeon nods, though Seokmin wonders if she truly  gets what you’re trying to achieve. Not quite, he realizes a moment later. Instead, she covers his chin with her hand so she can squeeze both his cheeks at once.
“He’s adorable,” she coos. “Doesn’t look old enough or mature enough for diplomacy, though.”
Seokmin rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be doctors, can we?”
Again, in tandem, all eyes on him widen with feigned shock. Between overlapping gasps of “he does understand!” and “someone’s been studying!”, he shakes off his sister’s touch and scowls.
“If you’re going to keep bullying me, can you at least do it at the bar? That way, I can numb my suffering with booze.”
At this, Soyeon drops the charade and pulls him into a hug like a vice grip. She holds him so tightly that his vision starts to get spotty. It’s not until he gently pats her back, begging for air, that she lets him go.
“I missed you too, Thumper,” she swears, prompting you to snicker.
Now, he’s annoyed for a completely different reason — one that makes even less sense to him. That nickname hasn’t bothered him in the last decade, so it shouldn’t now. Then again, the only person who’s called him Thumper since middle school is you.
The rules are different for you, if they exist at all.
“And I promise to catch up with you later, but I’ve got five thousand questions for Bambi, and the answers aren’t half as juicy with you around.”
Just like that, his plus-one is subtracted.
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As much as you love Soyeon, she’s no Seokmin. With him, talking is easy; he never rushes to fill silences, doesn’t steer the conversation with a white-knuckled grip. 
On the contrary, his oldest sister comes forward with a pickaxe, smashing through small talk while she mines for the wild stories she thinks she’s missed out on since moving away.
You don’t blame her, really. If you spent all your hours in a hospital, only sleeping in the lulls between other people’s trauma, you’d probably become just as intense — the human equivalent of a cracked-open fire hydrant — in the search for closeness, too.
In the thirty minutes you sit with her, you brief her on all the cliffhangers you’d left her with the last time you saw her.
Yes, you’re still stuck with your lease in the same apartment; and the old lady next door still regularly sets off the building’s fire alarm by accident.
No, you decided not to stay with Kai and haven’t spoken since the breakup; he needed more of your time and energy than you wanted to sacrifice for him.
No, Seokmin still hasn’t gone out with anyone that you know of in months. In fact, it’s been so long since either of you have touched on this topic, especially compared to how little time he and the last girl were together, that you can’t even remember her name. 
Beyond that first, limited fact, you keep your mouth shut about the rest. It’s not your business to share; and it wouldn’t kill her to ask Seokmin about himself for once.
The longer you spend with her, the more frustrated you find yourself getting, although you keep this fact to yourself, too. Soyeon and Seonmi have both spent their lives fussing about Seokmin, talking about him like he’s some helpless baby, without doing much to get to know him.
That’s it.
If you were at all confident that Soyeon would take the initiative, you’d let her find all of this out on her own. She won’t, you know, but maybe it’ll sink in if she hears it from you.
“Seokmin’s doing really well, now that you mention it,” you offer, though she barely mentioned him in the first place. “He got promoted last month; he’s now lead architect on that massive commercial lot downtown. Apparently, it’s still a secret, whatever it is they’re putting there. Must be something special.”
Seokmin is something special, you all but yell inside your head.
Soyeon’s eyes brighten. 
Nobody loves secrets quite like she does. You wait for the barrage, anticipating all the questions to which you’ll have to respond with “seriously, I don’t know,” but they don’t come.
Instead, she puts her drink back on its coaster, reaches out, and squeezes your wrist with her slightly chilled hand. “I’m grateful that he’s always had you, Bambi. If he didn’t, I don’t know if he’d lean in to opportunities like that.”
The look on her face tells you she means it. Maybe that’s what makes your stomach sour: that she can sit there, hearing of Seokmin’s accomplishments, and still find a way not to credit him for them.
Anger ignites inside of you. The flames lick up your esophagus, ready to explode, and you suck in a breath with every intention of letting her burn.
But then an arm slinks around your waist. Seokmin’s head bumps slightly against yours until you’re cheek to cheek.
“I hope I’m interrupting something.”
For a second, you think his slight tipsiness caused him to misspeak. Tilting your head to the side the best you can, you look at him out of the corner of your eye and catch his very subtle wink.
Soyeon opens her mouth, but Seokmin makes his wish a reality.
“Sorry, sis,” Seokmin says, entirely unapologetically. “I just found out that the band takes requests; and I’ll be goddamned if Bambi and I don’t show you clowns the meaning of dance.”
It takes no encouragement whatsoever for you to slip off your stool, get to your feet, and inch your way closer to his side. Then, like a starting gun was fired, the two of you bolt clumsily away from the bar, with you shouting “sorry!” over your shoulder as you go.
Your heels skid against the dance floor when you finally reach it, but Seokmin steadies you before you can eat shit in front of god and everyone.
“You’re way too expressive, you know that?” The fact that he’s out-of-breath doesn’t keep him from laughing. “I could’ve seen that grumpy turtle face of yours from space.”
Unintentionally, you prove his point, drawing your eyebrows together and frowning. “I do not —”
“— Also, I lied,” he interrupts yet again.
This, coupled with the everything else going on, leaves you too stunned to speak.
“This band is all trot, all the time. They don’t take requests — trust me, I tried — but if you stay here with me long enough, we can kill two birds with one stone.”
Seokmin doesn’t wait for you to answer because he knows it’s a yes. He doesn’t wait for you to assume your position, either, and instead holds your left hand in his right before placing your right on his left shoulder. This close, you feel the urge to tell him how handsome he looks with his hair parted off his forehead. You don’t, however.
The music swells behind you. Seokmin leads, and you follow, swaying slowly and moving across the floor.
“Two birds?” You remember to ask, one eyebrow arched.
His right arm lifts. “Spin,” he whispers. You step under his arm, then twirl. While you’re facing the opposite direction, he continues, “There. Do you see it?”
“Oh, my god.”
You do.
The bar stool you were just occupying is now filled by Seokmin’s great-uncle, Hajoon, while his new and much younger girlfriend, Yunhee, hovers near his shoulder. Even from this distance, you can see the look of abject distress on Soyeon’s face, totally unhidden by her attempt to seem engaged.
You return to your position in front of Seokmin, your hand accidentally landing on his bicep, rather than his shoulder. Flustered by the deceptive bulk there, you immediately scoot your palm back to where it belongs.
He leans in so that only you can hear him. It doesn’t feel necessary at all, given how loud the band’s horn section is, but you don’t recoil this time. 
“They had me trapped over by the appetizers,” he explains, low voice making you shiver involuntarily. “Every time he started a story with when I was your age, I wanted to point out that Yunhee hadn’t been born yet.”
You can’t help the laugh that erupts out of you and therefore can’t pull your head away from Seokmin’s ear in time to save him. Instead of wincing or complaining, he looks at you and breaks into laughter of his own as soon as your eyes meet. The effect doubles, and before you know it, both of you are teary-eyed.
“How the hell did you get away from him?”
It’s a feat you've never once managed. Uncle Hajoon’s inability to read a room is equal parts due to his horrible hearing and his tendency to never stop talking. Even if he did leave space in the conversation for you to excuse yourself, you’d never successfully get the message across.
Seokmin lifts his arm again but not for you. He takes his leave to spin himself, simpering as he goes, “That’s where Yunhee came in handy, actually. I didn’t know she had it in her, but she’s not as much of a dud as we initially thought.”
“Oh?”
“She told him that I should be able to dance with my girlfriend, and he shouldn’t keep me any longer.” He shrugs. “It didn’t seem like the time to correct her.”
All the heat in your body goes straight to your cheeks. Nonetheless, you attribute it to the dancing and choke out, “No royalties for me, then.”
“Not this time.” Seokmin shakes his head. “I said that Soyeon was trying to catch up with everyone and would love to hear his stories.”
You bite back a grin. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”
“Maybe.” He smiles with every single one of his teeth. “But you’re free.”
“Surprisingly so. I haven’t felt the Eye of Sauron on me at all yet.” Just in case your statement serves as a jinx, you glance around the room for Seonmi. The tension you’ve been keeping in each one of your muscles slackens when, once again, your radar is blip-free.
“Dinner was supposed to start ten minutes ago. If I had to guess, she’s either leaving a scathing Yelp review or personally waterboarding the chef as we speak.”
“Both at the same time,” you counter, earning a wry smile. “She inherited your mom’s self-assuredness. If she believes she can, she will.”
After the pair of you dance through two more songs, the band breaks, and the hotel’s battalion of waiters come in, bearing domed, silver trays. Seokmin takes off in a hurry for your assigned table in the far corner of the ballroom, so famished that he barely remembers to tug you along behind him.
Through the meal and all its complimentary wine pairings, you do your best to focus on the conversation. Seokmin introduced you to the few people sitting with you that you haven’t had the occasion to meet yet. While he does what comes naturally to him, charming them with ease, you struggle for the first time to pay attention to him.
A few tables over, Seonmi sits down with her fiancé, joining the company of her parents; Soyeon and her date are there, too, leaving Seokmin out by design. Like an insane person, you can only watch her, rather than Seokmin’s blatant theft of bites from your plate. She laughs at whatever jokes her mother cracks, but you’d recognize that look of veiled angst anywhere. She isn’t happy, you realize. You can’t avoid the feeling that you’re the reason why she isn’t.
Time passes, somehow too quickly and too slowly. The plates are emptied, then cleared away by the wait staff — except for your half-empty glass, which is your third. Much like the other guests at your table, the joyful buzz you’d been feeling so far leaves, too.
All that’s left is you, Seokmin, and that ominous, storm cloud you can’t seem to shake.
“You’ll probably feel better if you talk to her.”
He’s always more observant than you give him credit for. You snap out of your zoned-out stare across the room in order to look at him. You frown. “I doubt it. She already looks pissed. Me parading my presence here despite her isn’t going to help anything.”
“Bambi,” Seokmin sighs, not impatient but gentle. “She’s not exactly warm, but she has always liked you. There’s literally no reason why she wouldn’t be happy to see you —”
You open your mouth to argue.
“— that happened over twenty years ago, and you really need to stop feeling guilty about it —”
You close your mouth, cross your arms self-consciously, and sink in your seat. Despite yourself, you glance over at him and catch the way he’s looking at you. He doesn’t need to say the words out loud for you to hear them.
It’s either the unspoken dare, his reassuring, soft-eyed smile, or all the blasted merlot that does you in. You’re not sure which of the three was the coup de grâce, and as you slink off towards her table, you realize it doesn’t matter. For one reason or another, you’ve decided that fear isn’t going to get the better of you this time.
Seonmi somehow senses you coming. Even without the band underscoring your movement, your timid steps across the mahogany parquet should’ve been impossible for anyone to pick up on. 
Must be an older sister thing, you think, being doomed to keep a perpetual eye on others. 
She doesn’t say anything when you slip into the chair next to her, which doesn’t bode well but isn’t a deal breaker, in and of itself. The important thing is that she doesn’t get up to leave. You tell yourself that this is a good sign. The knot in your stomach begs to differ, however.
Say something.
Say anything.
“Everything’s… lovely, Seonmi, seriously.” You gesture around you, smiling, but she only gives you a cursory look. “You’ve really outdone yourself with this one.”
Seonmi takes a sip of her cocktail — something bitter, the petty voice in your head assumes — and lets the corner of her mouth rise slightly. If it’s the closest thing you’ll get to a smile, you’ll take it. She hasn’t granted you a proper one in the decades since you got gum in her favorite Barbie’s hair.
“Thanks, kid,” she sighs, setting the drink back down on her personalized, cardboard coaster.
You can’t remember the last time she called you “Bambi”, let alone your real name. Just like Seokmin, you’ve always been a child to her. Apparently, you always will be, no matter what you do.
Her grip around the glass remains rigid, not unlike her overall posture. Condensation weeps under and around her manicured fingers, uninhibited. You watch those droplets soak through the coaster’s design, darkening her parents’ initials and wedding date, while you mull over whose turn it is to talk.
Ultimately, as is usually the case, Seonmi makes this decision for you. Without so much as a glance at you out of the corner of her eye, she muses, “It was a lot of work, getting all the details ironed out.”
You pick up on the subtext immediately. One of those details would’ve been the guest list; another, the invitations. Seokmin assumed it was all an accident and said as much to you no fewer than a hundred times, but this little comment from his sister blows his assurances to smithereens. 
Your exclusion wasn’t an accident at all.
Suddenly, somehow, the room is twenty degrees colder. You shoot a panicked glance over to where Seokmin was just sitting, wanting nothing more than to slink back to his warmth with your tail between your legs; but he’s not where you left him. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found.
Fuck.
“Ah,” is the best you can do.
And then the two of you sit awkwardly in silence while the seconds age in dog years.
You should’ve brought a drink over with you so you’d have something to do with your hands. Or your phone — except you left it on its charger, you idiot — or a time machine, so you can revoke your bullshit decision to walk over here in the first —
“He deserves that, don’t you think?”
The combined suddenness of her voice and the switch in topics makes you jolt ever so slightly. You try to pass it off, to pretend that you’re simply adjusting the skirt of your dress, but your efforts go unnoticed. Seonmi is too busy pointing casually ahead, drawing your focus to the center of the dance floor.
Like absolutely no one else is watching, Mr. Lee twirls around his laughing wife, his heart-shaped smile beaming so brightly that it almost hurts your eyes. The love of his life has to hold one of her hands over her mouth to keep her laughter from bursting out; the other hand is raised with the rest of that arm, allowing her husband to spin himself underneath. When he’s halfway through, she surprises him, drops her arm down, and embraces him fully, giggling all the while.
It almost makes you tear up — Mr. Lee’s unabashed, silly love, and how much it reminds you of his spitting-image of a son; the way Seokmin’s mother’s eyes sparkle in the same blissful, radiant way his do. Maybe the same can’t be said for his older sisters, but it’s abundantly clear where Seokmin came from. It’s even clearer where he should end up.
“Yes,” you breathe, and it almost sounds like a laugh because of course, he does. Before you can stop yourself, you ask, “Is that really a question?”
No, you realize too late, it’s bait.
Without batting an eye, she counters, “Is it really so hard for you to let him have that?”
Seonmi turns her head to look you dead in the eye. Confusingly, despite her words, there’s nothing in her tone or gaze that reads like malice. If anything, the slight furrow of her brow shouts concern.
Your mind is spinning too fast to keep up with. Whatever her next move is, you’re too dizzy now to see it coming and too disoriented to follow it. With the knot in your stomach tightening further, you stammer, “Is — what?”
“God,” Seonmi drops her face into her hands. “You don’t get it, do you?”
A fish on dry land, all you seem to know how to do is open and close your mouth. You may not be literally flailing, but with the state your mind is in, you may as well start.
“Seokmin loves love.” 
She says each of these words slowly, like she’s trying to hammer each nail through a thick skull. 
“It’s the one thing he’s wanted most since he was a kid, yet I can count on one hand the number of short-term relationships he’s been in. He doesn’t ever bring anyone home to meet us; he doesn’t bring anyone to weddings, or parties, or holidays; he just brings you.”
Of course, you’ve been right there through all of his situationships. He’s always scant on details when they end — and you’ve never pressed for any — but you know better than anyone that nothing has stuck long-term. 
You’ve never thought about how odd this really is, but with Seonmi spelling it out for you now, you can’t come up with a single, good reason why someone as objectively incredible as Seokmin can’t make these things work — or why, even as you rack your brain, the only constant you can find in his life is you.
She glares now, as if she’s daring you to speak; as if you’ve got anything she’d deem worth adding. The bulldozer revs up again, whether you’re ready or not: “You’ve always been the only person he saves space for, whether or not there’s a place for you, and he has no room left in his life for someone to love him like that —” 
Seonmi points again to her parents, who are circling slowly on the dance floor, talking softly to one another. 
“So, what is it? Do you truly not see what he’s missing, or are you choosing not to because you like his attention?”
Your eyes burn with tears, but you can’t let them fall, and you can’t wrap your head around why that is. 
Who are you hiding them from: Seonmi or yourself?
The longer she stares at you, the muddier it gets. You don’t want her to be right. You don’t want to be the kind of person she’s describing; but there’s something awful whispering in the back of your mind, saying that you might be. 
You’ve left every relationship you’ve been in, telling everyone who asks in the aftermath that you like being on your own better. But that’s bullshit. It’s not your own company that you keep when you’re single; it Seokmin’s. 
He makes sure that you never spend a day feeling alone, that he’s always available over the phone in the rare times he’s not physically with you. As his best friend, he treats you better than every single one of your exes ever has. Like you’re worth more than anyone else will credit you.
What kind of friend are you if you feel relieved whenever his relationships expire?
Seonmi’s hand drops, landing half-heartedly clenched on the tabletop. Just the same, her voice drops until it’s almost a whisper. 
“I am begging you,” she pleads, eyes narrowing desperately as they search yours. “If you don’t want him, someone else will. Please just —  get the hell out of their way.”
By the time you reach the elevator, all you’re left with is a blur. You’ve already forgotten how the conversation ended, or which one of you was the first to get up. If she said anything else to you, it was drowned out by your own hammering pulse and a looping chorus of voices validating your biggest fear, stating in no uncertain terms that you don’t belong.
You’re shaking when you reach your floor. Heels clicking under unsteady footsteps, you make for room 218; and as you go, you shove your hand into the well-concealed pocket of your dress for the keycard Seokmin forgot to grab himself on the way out earlier.
He’s certainly not in the room when you finally step inside, although you have no clue where he’s gone. It’s for the best. The door closes behind you, and with no one to see it happen, you burst into tears.
All rational thought flies out the window, shaken off by the tornado of utter confusion tearing through your brain. You grab your suitcase, needing nothing more than to be anywhere else, and begin haphazardly throwing your things back inside of it.
Why did you still come with him, knowing it wouldn’t end well? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve told him no; he would’ve listened if you truly meant it.
If you didn’t mean it when you initially tried to squirrel your way out of this, why not? Was it just your friend asking sincerely that won you over without a fight; or was it because you knew, deep down, it’d hurt to see him bring someone else?
Why would it hurt?
The answer to that will crack the foundation of everything the two of you have built, but only if you admit it to yourself. It can’t threaten you if you don’t say it out loud, don’t make it real.
So, you won’t. 
You’ll bury it deeply enough to forget about, repour the concrete, and tiptoe through the rest of your life with your best friend still at your side.
That is, if your friendship survives the weekend — rather, your sudden departure from it — at all.
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“Halmoni, it’s time to go back to your hotel, okay?” 
He coos this, as if he’s pleading with a toddler at bedtime, because that’s exactly what it feels like to wrangle the drunk, 80-year-old clinging to his arm.
Physically, she needs to hold onto Seokmin to keep herself steady. Mentally, she’s ready to run and has made several attempts to do just that when she thinks his guard is down. It’s no wonder the hotel staff cornered him and begged him for help; she’s too wily for those who don’t know her.
The manager had at least done him the courtesy of hailing a cab. It sits out front, warm and waiting, while he shepherds his grandmother through the lobby.
“— and another thing!” She slurs.
There is never not another thing. She shouldn’t bother concluding her sentences in the first place; she’s never done talking.
“I told your sister — I said, Sunny —”
Seonmi, he dares to presume, although he doesn’t dare to correct her.
“— you can’t have stuff like this —” She gestures animatedly, albeit vaguely around her. “— in places like this and expect retirees to pay for it! I said — oh, what did I say? — Ah, I said, ‘find me the cheapest motel in the area, or I’ll be staying in your room with you’ —”
Her kitten heels hit the brick outside with an angry thwump.
Seokmin can’t help himself. “She didn’t go for that?”
“No!” His grandmother squawks. 
The driver sees the ball of a woman wobbling his way and quickly exits the cab, skirts around it, and flings the back door open for her. 
“I can’t imagine why, halmoni,” he lies through his teeth, which shine down on her in his best, least sincere smile. “You’re a blast in a glass.”
She roars with laughter, even while two grown adults work together to pour her into the backseat without bumping her head on the doorframe. “Glast in a blass!”
“Exactly. Can you —?”
He gives up before he finishes voicing his request; it’s no use. Instead, he bends down to hug her and finagles the buckle of her seatbelt while she’s too distracted to fight him off. That click is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, after the clunk of the door shutting her in.
By the time Seokmin turns to the cab driver, his grandmother is fully slumped in her seat, pilled peacoat rising and falling with every wine-laced breath.
“I am so sorry.” He sighs, which devolves into a sheepish laugh, and fishes all of the cash out of his pocket. No tip could possibly cover the emotional toll of this ordeal, so he does his best and gives the driver everything he has.
The driver’s eyes widen. Seokmin gets the impression that he doesn’t quite understand the task he’s undertaking. 
Poor bastard.
Seokmin continues, “My grandfather is at the inn already; he didn’t feel well enough to come here, but he’ll be ready to get her inside once you drop her off.”
“Sounds easy enough.” The driver smiles and holds out his hand to shake. 
Seokmin reciprocates, and he declines to explain just how wrong that assessment is. He thanks the man and chirps a quick goodbye to his grandmother before rushing back inside.
Walking into the ballroom, he hopes to find you and Seonmi laughing about whatever misunderstanding had gotten in your way before. At the very least, he expects you to still be sitting next to each other at the same table. That would be good enough, he thinks; he could assist in repairing the situation from there.
The problem, it seems, is beyond his help. Neither one of you occupies the same table. If his quick scan tells him anything, you’re not even in the same room.
No matter which way he turns, he can’t spot you. His sister, on the other hand, is near the far corner, having what looks like a nightmarish conversation with their parents. There are approximately five billion things Seokmin would rather do than get in the middle of that, but you don’t have your phone on you, and he has no other way to find out where you went.
Above the heads of the two women, Seokmin’s father catches sight of his approach. They lock eyes; there’s something insane in his father’s gaze. The older man shakes his head, mouthing “no.”
Seokmin stops short, raises his hands with the palms up to get across his confusion, and mouths back, “Bambi?”
In response, his father extends a single finger and points upwards. He then makes a shooing motion with his hand. His wife and daughter are so engrossed in their argument that neither of them catches the pantomime or Seokmin’s quick exit, back the way he came.
On the elevator ride upstairs, Seokmin worries. The most likely explanation is that you went to find your phone so that you could find him – but you haven’t texted or called him in the time he’s been looking for you, so he supposes it isn’t likely after all. 
Maybe, he thinks, the wine caught up to you. You’re not as strong a drinker as you think you are. While he walks down the hallway to room 218, he steels himself. Even though you both hate it, he’s ready to hold your hair if he walks in and finds you with your head in the toilet. That dress looks too good on you not to be expensive; he’d rather talk you out of your embarrassment tomorrow than have you shell out for dry-cleaning.
You didn’t deadbolt the door behind you, which strikes him as odd. In fact, you didn’t even close it properly; it isn’t latched. All he has to do is tap on it for the door to open.
“Bambi?” He calls out before stepping inside entirely, thinking it’s only decent to confirm in advance that he’s not an intruder. “Sorry for disappearing. I had to pour my grandmother into a cab – it was exactly as awful as it sounds.”
The faint rustling sound he hears isn’t coming from the bathroom, which is both dark and unoccupied. Part of him wants to take this as a good sign, but the rest of him wonders if he’s walking in on a burglary. That flicker of fear is followed by a stupid sense of validation: 
You always laugh at him when he cites this as his reason for choosing the bed closest to the door; you claim it’s statistically unlikely. Finally being able to say “I told you so” after a robbery wouldn’t make either of your belongings magically reappear, of course. That said, it might make him feel a little better.
But the figure rooting through your suitcase isn’t a bandit at all. It’s you with your coat on.
“Um,” he starts, unintentionally startling you. “What is….” 
His question peters out when you look up at him. There are broken mascara tracks down your cheeks, as if you tried to wipe them off without actually looking at them. Above them, your wide eyes are wet, like you’re seconds away from crying all over again. Even worse, you’re trembling.
Seokmin’s only instinct is to reach for you. Before he can wrap his arms around you, you jerk away from him. “Please don’t.”
So, he stops, though he doesn’t understand why. This is quite literally the only time in your life that you’ve pushed him away.
“What’s going on?” Ideally, he’d project calm at a time like this. He just sounds desperate. “What happened with Seonmi?”
“She — um, she didn’t — It wasn’t that bad; I’m just… You know how sensitive I get when I drink wine.”
Like a switch flips, a half-hearted smile takes over the bottom half of your face. It’s not real; if it was, your eyes would light up and crinkle at the corners. Whatever that look is, it’s bullshit.
Seokmin gestures to your suitcase, where everything you brought with you has been unceremoniously shoved. “Sensitive enough to, what, run away? No. I’m not buying it. She said something — or did something — to make you this upset. Bambi, what happened?”
His urgency is selfish, he knows it. Seonmi’s always been way too intuitive for her own good. There’s no way she hasn’t noticed the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking; how god-awful he is at acting platonic.
He tries — has been trying, for a long time now — to shake these feelings off because he knows you’re not emotionally available. Because he knows who he’s supposed to be for you, and how devastating it would be if he threw your friendship away.
That devastation is right in front of him now; and it’ll  push you out of his life forever if he doesn’t shut it down. He has to get in front of it.
You strike first, though. “Seokmin, why didn’t you bring anyone else?”
There are two ways for him to interpret that question: with the emphasis on anyone, meaning not you; or as an escape route. For your sake, he chooses the latter.
“She gave me a plus-one, not a plus-two,” he says softly.
Despite his tone, it must hit you like a punch. You nod curtly, once. “Got it. Basic math. Thanks, Seokmin; that was never my strongest subject.”
Foot, meet mouth.
You immediately set back to work, reaching for the lid of your suitcase to close and zip. Before he thinks once, let alone twice, his hand darts out and flattens against the mesh inner pocket on the top, preventing you from doing so.
“No.” He shakes his head firmly. “Not happening.”
You don’t scowl at him the way he expects, nor do you even stop to look at him. It’s far worse than that; your eyes start swimming, focused helplessly on your suitcase. 
When you speak, your voice cracks. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place. I knew that this invitation shit wasn’t an accident; I knew I wasn’t welcome to —”
“— You came anyway.” Seokmin doesn’t mean to snap at you, but the point is moot. Softening at the edges, he quickly continues, “And I’m glad that you did because I don’t want to be here with ‘anyone else’.”
It’s not the whole truth, so it may as well be a lie. You know him too well for him to get away with it; it was stupid of him to try. Your head turns, and the slight narrow of your eyes says it all.
I triple-dog dare you to tell me the truth.
This fork in the road has two dead ends. His only options are to do just that or double down and lie straight to your face, while you see straight through him. Either option pulls the pin, he figures, so it’s no longer a question of who gets hurt; it’s who gets hurt worse.
Seokmin jumps on the grenade.
“I don’t want to be with anyone else!”
It comes out too loudly, startling you. In a way, it’s angry, too. He wishes could project that anger onto Seonmi for starting shit, as usual, but the person he’s maddest at is himself for putting you both in this position.
For the first time ever, he can’t decipher the expression on your face. He’d shove his foot into his mouth to try and keep himself quiet, but his adrenaline is firing on all cylinders, and he can’t seem to stop shouting.
“And I’m really fucking sorry to say it because I know you don’t want to hear it, not from me or anyone else. So, you can leave, alright? I’m not going to stop you.”
The force of the surprise almost knocks the air out of him, so quick that Seokmin can’t process what’s happening until his back is flush to the wall behind him — until your hands, flat against his white button-up, curl to grip the fabric, and you kiss him so hard that he sees stars.
You’re surprised too, it seems. When you pull away, chest heaving, you freeze in the same way he does. Eyes searching the other’s, unsure of what to do now that twenty-plus years’ worth of boundaries have been blown to bits.
You whisper, “Are you still sorry?”
Of the five million feelings swelling inside of him — fear, kind of; joy, yes; fucked up by your blown-out pupils, definitely — regret isn’t one of them.
Actually…
He cups your face in his hands like water from a spring, drinks down the sight of you in this new and perfect light. “I’m only sorry that it took me this long to tell you,” he confesses before kissing you back twice as hard.
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You’d ask Seokmin to pinch you and prove to you that you’re not dreaming, but the fear you feel at the thought of waking up is too overwhelming. 
Even if it wasn’t, he can’t help you, can he? 
His hands are far too busy.
Your pretty dress is long gone now, having been shucked off and tossed somewhere out of sight. In its place, it’s Seokmin’s body that now drapes over yours, warm in touch and tone, like molten gold. 
His middle and marriage fingers curl inside you, working you up again; and all you can do is cling desperately to his hair, whimper, and wait for the fall.
“I take back what I said earlier,” he murmurs between nips and kisses at your neck.
You can’t ask him to elaborate. You’re too close to careening over the edge for the second time tonight; too busy babbling fucking nonsense.
His simper against your throat reverberates all the way down, lights up your every nerve in tandem like a switchboard. “Only an idiot would tell you to be less expressive.”
The pad of his thumb swirls over your clit; its movement synchronizes with his middle finger inside of you, targeting your weak spot. He presses down on that spongy patch of nerves, and your hips buck involuntarily, a hallmark of your body begging for you while your words fail.
“You were right, though.” 
You summon all your concentration. “I’m always right,” you counter. Seokmin pulls his mouth away from the underside of your jaw just to look at you pointedly. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
He picks up the pace of his ministrations, pulling no punches. You’re teetering on the ledge with no real ability to lift your own neck; your head crashes back against the pillow as you wail, clenching and gushing around his fingers.
“I do know how sensitive you get,” he snickers before slipping his fingers from you and sweeping down to kiss you sweetly.
The ringing in your ears has barely subsided, but you’ve decided not to take anymore of his teasing laying down. Slipping your fingers from his hair, you move your hands to his shoulders; and with whatever muscle control you still maintain, you flip him off of you, onto his back.
“How long —” 
You climb over his lap and straddle him, placing your palms flat against his chest. It’s as much a show of dominance as it is a carefully disguised trick for balance. 
“— have you been waiting to say that?”
Caught red handed, Seokmin shoots you that trademark, heart-shaped smile. His cheeks were already flushed from the effort he just expended on you; that perfect pink only deepens when he blushes and laughs, “What, you think I can’t come up with killer lines in the heat of the moment?”
You scratch your nails gently down the lines of his abdominal muscles. “Nope,” you purr.
Sitting up on his elbows, Seokmin tilts his head to the side and narrows his dark eyes at you. You’re nowhere near used to seeing him look at you like this, like you’re something to be devoured. The feeling of being wanted so badly makes your stomach flip.
“Give me some credit, won’t you?” He asks, voice low. “You’re a knockout; you’re naked in front of me for the first time; and it’s a miracle I can talk at all when I feel this concussed.”
When you lean in, he licks his lips expectantly. You’re close enough to kiss him, of course, but you stop a few millimeters shy of your mark and watch him fight the urge to pout. His eyes search yours, almost pleadingly.
“Is that why you’re still not naked?”
Seokmin’s next move is to reach for the black briefs he’s still got on, but you stop him, encircling each of his wrists with your hands.
“Ah, ah, ah,” you tut with a patronizing shake of your head. “You’re fired. I’m in control now.”
If the little sigh he lets out is any indication, he is very much on board with your self-promotion.
He takes your cue and reels himself in, allowing you to move further down his body, your fingertips hooking under his elastic waistband and tugging as you go. When his length finally springs free, you duck your head to take him into your mouth, beyond eager to feel his weight on your tongue.
“Oh, my god,” he groans, eyelids fluttering, while you swirl your tongue around his head. “Feels s-so —”
The rest of his sentence gets stuck in his throat; you take what you can of him down your own throat, working whatever remains with your hand. 
Seokmin wants so badly to watch, you know he does, but he’s sensitive, too. His head tips back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open.
It’s messy, the spit dribbling down your chin and the sound brought forth by the suction of your mouth around him. The obscenity of it all spurs you on. Nothing inspires you quite like Seokmin’s breathy whines and low moans, though. Above all else, it’s his reaction to you that slicks the inside of your thighs.
You’d give him the ending he deserves, right down the back of your throat, but you feel his fingertips graze your shoulder, beckoning you to look up at him.
Voice rough, he pleads, “Come here.”
With his steadying hands on you, you move back into your original position with your bent knees on either side of him. You immediately spot the indent his teeth have left on his lower lip, which is now slightly swollen. Delicately, you brush your thumb over the mark. “Oh, you’re a goner.”
Seokmin looks at you pointedly. Though you tease, you’re even worse off: drunk on the taste of him, as much as the sight of him underneath you, wanting you just as badly.
“Alright, alright,” you concede. “I am, too.” 
The hand you use to wave dismissively at him then reaches down between your thighs, fingers wrapping around his cock and lining it up with your entrance.
“But I’m taking you down with me.”
And you do.
So thoroughly that you barely recall him staggering off to the bathroom when all is said and done, the wash cloth he returns with to clean you up, or the way you slump into his waiting arms before promptly falling asleep.
You sleep so soundly, in fact, that you don’t stir when the sun blares through the open curtains. Likewise, when Seokmin carefully maneuvers himself out of the tangle of your limbs and places your head on a real pillow instead, you’re none the wiser.
What finally gets to you is the clatter of the expensive, hotel-issued shampoo clattering against the floor of the shower, echoing off the tile like a sonic boom. You sit bolt upright in bed, staring bleary-eyed in the direction of the bathroom. 
As if on cue, Seokmin pokes his head out of the doorway to see if you managed to sleep through the noise. Damp hair splays over his forehead, hanging just as loosely as his lazily-knotted bathrobe. If you weren’t still too sleepy to function, you’d love nothing more than to grab him by that tie and drag him back to bed.
“Shit. I’m sorry, Bambi,” he coos, though his mouth is full of both toothpaste and a toothbrush in a distinctly greener shade of blue than usual.
You merely point at his mouth with a half-powered look of distress, otherwise unable to put your suspicion into words. He doesn’t get it; he glances down at his chest, looking for what he assumes is a stray glob of paste.
When you finally do speak, it’s a prayer: “Please tell me that’s not mine.”
Seokmin blinks at you, then down his nose at the toothbrush he’s using. He cocks his head to the side, opens his mouth to assure you it isn’t, and finally, when the realization makes his eyes widen, he groans.
You wail, “Noooooo!”
Memories of your last trip together clash before your mind — specifically, attempting to navigate a drug store in a foreign language while you shopped for the replacement toothbrush Seokmin is currently holding.
Ears bright red with embarrassment, he ducks back into the bathroom. Immediately, you hear a rush of water from the tap, which nearly drowns out his feeble cry of “I’m sorry!”
“I know it’s an honest mistake, but how do you make it twice?” 
You collapse back onto the pillows and bury your face in your palms; and you stay that way, even when you hear him padding softly over to you. The mattress shifts under his weight as he makes his way, one knee at a time, until you feel him looming over you. His hands reach out and gently pull yours from your face.
Before you can get any ideas, Seokmin flattens himself on top of you; a weighted blanket, smelling like vanilla and spearmint. He folds his arms across your chest and props his chin up on the top of his right wrist, bright eyes sparkling as he peers up at you.
Suddenly, you find it very difficult to be annoyed with him. The worst part is that none of this is by design. He always just looks at you this way, not to get out of trouble but because you’re you.
Your hand reaches out of its own accord and brushes the remaining damp strands off his forehead. When your touch lingers, Seokmin leans into it, warming your palm with his cheek.
“Hey,” you say, after failing to come up with anything better.
He beams. “Hi.”
“Why are we awake at this hour?”
That smile of his evaporates slowly, giving way to a grimace you’ve seen before. “Seungcheol and Mingyu want to meet up at the ski lodge before the post-brunch crowd gets there,” he explains. “And I told my parents we’d get breakfast with them first, since yesterday was… well, mostly a disaster.”
“And it will conveniently provide you with time to think of a way out of snowboarding?” You chuckle quietly and pat his cheek.
Seokmin shakes his head firmly, then stretches his neck enough to kiss you.
“No,” he mumbles defiantly against your lips. “I never back down from a triple-dog dare.”
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homeofthelonelywriter · 2 days ago
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Are you sure you don’t want to move in with me?”
A smile spread on your lips, though it quickly shifted into a frown as you gently set down the heavy cardboard box, holding the rest of your belongings. It had been two months since your father’s monthly payments stopped. Two months since, no matter what you tried, you couldn’t reach your dad or anyone close to him. Two months since you’ve been trying to find a job, but no luck so far. In the end, you decided to move out of the apartment your dad had insisted on you renting, and moved into a smaller and cheaper one.
“Nah, I’ll be fine, I promise.” Your best friend frowned, concern painted across her face. For someone who was usually so carefree, she now looked like she was about to suffer a breakdown.
“I know you don’t like my roommates, but they aren’t so bad once you get to know them. And I’m really worried about leaving you here. This part of town just isn’t safe.” You chuckled and nodded. She was right after all.
The only place you could afford with the rest of your savings was in the part of town everyone was warned to stay away from. The part with the highest crime rate in the entire city. The part where just a few weeks ago, a dead college student had been found. But what were you to do? As much as you loved your friend, her male roommate was creepy and you didn’t like the way he looked at you. No way you’d survive moving in with them. So, the cheap apartment in the creepy part of town it was.
“I’ll be fine, I promise. I have pepper spray and my dad had me learn self-defense. If anyone tries something funny, you’ll have to worry about him, not me!” A grin spread across your lips as you gave her a thumbs up, trying to look as confident as possible. In response, she just rolled her eyes.
“Fine, but…you better facetime me whenever you’re walking home. And have your location on at all times, you hear me?” You nodded and pulled out your phone, quickly turning the location share on, so she would stop worrying. As much as you loved her, it was starting to get repetitive.
Your friend continued to help you, before you ushered her out, telling her to get home safely and before it got dark out. Then you continued to move in, unpacking and slowly getting comfortable. Well…as comfortable as you could get when there were what felt like constant sirens and other noises you weren’t too happy to hear. Banging and moans from your next-door neighbors, screams and crashing from upstairs, and weird gurgling from the hallway. Good thing you had some noise-cancelling headphones, sounded like you would need them.
You had to admit, the first few nights, you didn’t sleep much. The noises and the general paranoia were enough to keep you up, but after a week or so, you got used to it. You put a knife on your nightstand, put a chair against the door, and glasses against the windows. To be honest, you developed your own little routine, which you quite enjoyed. And if you added the job hunt - which had still not been successful - and the work for college, you rarely had the energy to truly care about your situation at the end of the day.
Another week or so went by and you found yourself in the cafe on the campus, sending out more job applications, but it seemed like no one wanted to hire a college student who could only work odd hours. Frustration wafted through you, so you decided to grab another drink and quickly got in line, not paying attention to your surroundings. You promptly gave your order and went to pay, but before you could, the person behind you spoke up, “I got it.”, and before you could interject, they placed tapped their card, and your order was paid for.
When you turned around to thank the kind stranger, you quickly realized it wasn’t a stranger. “Mister Riley?”
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A/N: Since it's been almost a year since I posted the idea, let's try this. Let me know what you think!
@alilstressyandlotdepressy @brickwall035 @trampondemand @inarabee @blinca @rileys3dworld
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unriding · 10 hours ago
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a … a gift from the talented @kruinka 🥹 thank you so much!! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)
#🐦‍⬛🐕 .#彡 cherishing.#kruin …. !! you sent this a few days ago but i am still . reeling in . /pos because i cannot believe i am seeing moze ( and myself ?! ) in#your !!!! style !!! your !! adorable !!! and beautiful !! style !!! and there is a lot i have to say — i am in the chattiest mood despite my#sleepiness !! FIRST omg ): thank you ?! thank you !! THANK YOU !!! for being so kind to me and drawing out a sketch that i will treasure for#eternity really 😭 !! i will gaze at this whenever i wake up … gaze at it before i sleep …. gaze at it when im sad … when im happy ( to#amplify the happiness of course !! ) OOOOH KRUIN. kruin . words can absolutely NOT describe how much i love your style … i just cannot ?!#figure out how to put it in words ?? i can’t just say ‘i like how you do this’ ‘and this’ because it’s the literal entire thing that i love#aiwnendjdkke and ): before i get too deep into that — i must thank you another time kruin !! because i know you’ve been busy — and of#course you must be ?! im sure life becomes much more hectic during the holidays and new years like this — so i’m just so soft over the fact#that you spent time to do this for me and i :’) i really appreciate it from the bottom of my heart — i would like to say ‘you really didn’t#have to!!’ BECAUSE YOU DIDNT !!! YIU DIDNT NEED TO DO ANYTHING FOR ME — YOU DIDNT ): IM JUST SO SAPPY AND MUSHY THAT YOU CHOSE TO AND ):#and the background being pink . i love pink !!! i know exactly where this specific shade of pink will prosper ( give me a second .. when i#awake ) .. BUT OH )): thank you so much kruin … it means so much to me .. more than i could ever try to explain !!! BUT IS IT OKAY IF I TALK#ABOUT HOW YOU DREW MOZE BECAUSE . i’m dead on the floor -> x0x this is me because you made his cheeks SO squishy HIS SIGNATURE SQUISHABLE#LOOK . I WONDER HOW ARTISTS MAKE HIM LOOK SO SQUISHY ?? the squish technique ?? BECAUSE HE LOOKS SO CUTE SHJEJD ): KRUIN YOURE SUCH AN AWESO#ME ARTIST . SO TO BE ABLE TO SEE HIM IN YOUR STYLE ….. *thanks everyone for allowing me to have eyes* a wonderful day !! to have eyes !!! i#will actually risk disintegrating into evieparticles if i even so much as mention the blush on his cheeks so — instead . YOU GAVE HIM SUCH A#oh no . the look on his face T T kruin i don’t want to talk about it !!!!! but you — the look on his face !!!! must you draw him in such a#cute manner /pos i am starting to feel speechless trying to talk about how pretty he is in your style because . perhaps toopretty for me#to even make any type of comment ( instead — i sneak a glance and then turn away because if i stare too long …. IF I STARE TOO LONG .. *expl#explodes* ) kruin i think i will just cry seeing the level of detail you put into this ): like my hair ): i think i will just kneel in front#of you and cry and apologize over and over as i wipe my tears on my sleeve because my tears make it difficult to properly thank you /lh#the fact that there are sparkles T T the world is full of sparkles when mr shadow exists !!! a lovely . YOU KNOW WHAT . the sparkles are#there because KRUIN EXISTS . I LOVE YOU KRUIN. I LOVE YOU SOO MUCH ))): I DONT RVEN KNOW HOW TO DTART EXPRESSING MY GRATUTUDE#tldr - i am gobsmacked & staring at this for the next ( infinite amount of time ) thank you kruin !!! ): wishing you only the best .#aggressively wishing you only the best * aggressively turning to go O_O at anything that dares threaten a lovely day for you!!!!
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mahojelly92 · 2 days ago
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Eyes Wide Open
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Word count: 1.5k
Content warning: rough smut, dom Schlatt, degrading language (but gentle aftercare)
Fem!reader, 18+ MDNI!!!
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You groggily squinted your eyes up at Schlatt as you feel a pillow hit your face, the slap of the cold fabric jolting you awake from your slumber. Schlatt is hovering over you, frowning as he scans your scrunched face.
“C’mon, toots. Would you get up? It's almost noon.”
You groan and turn your head away from him, ignoring his pleas as you rest your face on the pillow again. It took everything in your power not to shove him off the bed right then and there.
Last night you partied with your friends till 2am. You stumbled home into your boyfriend's arms all drunk and delirious. Schlatt begrudgingly put you to bed after helping you get undressed, scowling at the alcohol lingering on your breath. He wasn't a fan of you staying out late, especially when there were creeps at the bars. You told him countless times before that you were safe with your girls and that you had a buddy system, but he was never convinced. Last night he almost lost his shit when he realized you came home alone. What the hell were you thinking? He was gonna let you have a stern talking to, but that all changed when he saw how much of a stubborn brat you were being.
Schlatt shakes your shoulder vigorously. “Do I have to ask again, bitch?” His annoyance cuts through his words. 
You groan and turn over, keeping your eyes shut as you frown and pull the blankets up over your face. He was probably just in one of his moods. And your headache was only getting worse with his berating. Can't he just let you sleep? It was Saturday. Ugh.
He shakes his head in defeat, taking in a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. 
“Alright. Fine. If that's how you wanna act, so be it.” His New York accent tinges his frustration and makes you shiver under the warm blankets. A few moments of silence go by and the bed sheets ruffle next to you. You thought this was the end of it and smiled triumphantly. Finally, some peace and quiet around here. 
Without warning, you feel a cold rush of air hit your body as the blanket is yanked off of you. Big hands wrap around your middle, making you squeal. Schlatt pulls your waist up towards him. Your ass is now in the air and you're on all fours. Something presses into your underwear, making your eyes snap wide open. 
His voice dangles in your ear, lowering to a husky growl. “Wide awake now, huh?” 
He smirks and digs into your hips, pushing you forward and making you groan. You feel a tight sting on your ass and jump. Schlatt laughs and whines in a mocking tone behind you. “Does my girl need some lessons in bedside manners?” He kneads your sore cheeks while you groan into the pillow. “What'd I tell you about coming home alone drunk, huh, sweetie?” His erection teases your clit through his shorts, making you whimper and arch your back. 
“Sorry.” You mumble through the fabric, scrunching your nose in pleasure. “It won't happen again.”
“What was that?” Schlatt retorts, only making you whimper louder. He pulls on your hair tightly, your head lurching up from the pillow as he bends down to whisper in your ear again.
“Say that again, doll.”
“I'm sorry, baby. I promise it won't happen again.” You whine at his mercy as your scalp tingles. 
“That's it. That's my good girl.” Schlatt then slides your underwear down your thighs, promptly massaging your folds. He pulls your head back just a little more and sinks his teeth into your neck. You cry out and rock your hips against his fingers, begging for more. 
“You're a little slut, aren't you?” he mumbles in between his burning kisses, “disobey me like that again and I'll fucking ruin you.”
His words sting your ears and you moan uncontrollably. 
“Jay, I love you. Please…” the words slip from your mouth like honey.
Just then, you feel something press into your pussy. You squeeze your eyes shut and yelp, your thighs trembling as his tip meets your entrance. 
“That's my girl. Take it.” He grunts as he inches forward, filling you up with his warmth.
“Please, Jay. Please!” You beg further as he leans down to squeeze your hips. 
“Please what, toots? Use your words.”
He was all the way in now, making your stomach churn with anticipation.
“Please fuck me, Jay.”
Schlatt chuckles. “Gladly, sweetheart.” He pounds into you, driving his cock into your pussy with every muscle in his body. You move your hands to grip the headboard in front of you, steadying yourself as you jostle back and forth from Jay's powerful thrusts. Your head lulls up and down with every movement. 
“Now… what's my girl gonna do….next time she… she goes out, huh?” He gasps and grunts hoarsely between words.
“Call you! I'll call you!” Your jaw hangs slack as your body surges with pleasure. Your stomach tightens and your legs shake uncontrollably.
You feel Schlatt abruptly pull out of you, leaving you aching and empty. He grabs the underside of your stomach and flips you around. Your back lands on the bed with a thump and he spreads your legs out wide. He repositions himself between you, his eyes glazing over with tenderness as he admires your fucked-out face. 
“You're such a good girl for me.” He sighs, his demeanor changing completely. “No wonder I keep you around, you little slut.” You chuckle weakly and pant heavily, relieved to get a break from his relentlessness.
That didn't last long, though, because he swiftly thrusts back into you, driving you to the edge faster than before. You moan his name and inhale sharply when he presses a firm hand against your stomach, making your head spin from the g-spot stimulation. You claw at his forearms desperately as your orgasm teeters on the edge. 
“I fucking love you. Don't you ever come home alone again, you hear me?” Schlatt coos. His eyes soften into putty as you come undone for him, your pussy contracting and pulsing around his cock. His breath quickens as he reaches his own climax, his thrusts becoming erratic as he feels you tighten around him. At the last second, he pulls out, making you violently twitch. He pumps himself and spurts thick ropes of cum onto your stomach. 
“My god…” you stare in awe at his throbbing dick releasing, your lips curling into a smile as you cling onto this blissful state for as long as you can. Schlatt stares at your face, mentally capturing your strained features evening out as you come to. 
You both lay there for a few minutes, tangled up in each other's limbs and breathing heavily. Your mouth hangs open as you stare at the ceiling, relaxing into the bed sheets as Jay begins to massage your inner thighs. 
“I really am sorry, Jay.” you speak up, your voice cracking a bit. You focus your eyes on a spot on the cieling fan. Your voice eases with Jay's gentle circles on your legs. “What I did last night was not right. I should've let you know.”
Jay grunts in response, gazing at your solemn face with the utmost adoration.
“I care about you, toots. If anything were to happen, it'd be on me. And you already know I worry sick about you as it is.” 
“I know, I know.” You nod, propping yourself up and looking at him. “And getting drunk isn't an excuse, either.” 
Your weary expression catches his attention, and his heart sinks at the regret in your eyes.
His arms leave your thighs and he pulls your back up. You lean forward and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, mentally cringing at the cum squishing against your bellies, but nonetheless grateful for this moment. 
“It's okay, sweetheart. I love you.” Jay mumbles.
You let out a sigh of relief and almost melt into his arms. He rubs your back delicately and chuckles into your neck.
“Hopefully I wasn't too rough. Had to wake you up somehow, princess.”
You return his laugh, kissing his neck tenderly. “I'm glad you did, otherwise I would've slept ‘till next year.”
He squeezes you and pulls back. “C'mon. Let's get cleaned up before this shit dries on us.” He smirks, the corner of his eyes crinkling. 
You smile and bend down, licking the white smears of cum off of his stomach. He shutters and moans softly, his hands flying to your hair. 
“Not what I meant. But I'll take it.”
You both giggle breathlessly. You raise your head and lick your lips, smiling up at your boyfriend. “Delicious.”
He grins at you and stands up, taking your hand and leading you to the bathroom. 
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a/n: blushing giggling kicking my feet rn
I would love to write more fluffy Schlatt content so please request any ideas you have!! 
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elixirfromthestars · 2 days ago
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In His Embrace
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Pairing: Agent!Bucky Barnes x Journalist!Reader
Summary: As a new day begins and the snow cascades beyond your windows, you know there's no place you'd rather be than in his arms.
Word Count: 1.4k
Warning(s): none. pure fluff.
Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> it's too cold, stay in bed
a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my beloved Kat @elvenrin ♡♡♡ When reading your history major Bucky, it felt like I was getting a warm embrace from autumn, so I hope this can be a cozy winter hug for you!! ( っ˶´ ˘ `)っ This fic is written as a standalone piece, but I will link below the pairing this fic is based on, if anyone would like to read more! Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡
how their love story began ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆
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The wind howls beyond the windows, blowing the snow across the sky in white streaks. A few flurries land upon the glass pane, perching themselves as if looking into the bedroom. Bucky cradles you against his body, your head resting on his chest with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat acting as a lullaby.
Whereas a frigid dawn inhabits the outside, inside on the plush bed, the arms of your beloved and the sheets that envelop your body keep you in a bundle of safety and warmth. Protecting you from the harsh winter and whatever else may ail you. 
What a shame it is you have to get up soon…
There is not one muscle in your body that wishes to move, but tonight is possibly one of the most important nights of your life and you would be lying if you said you weren’t stressing over how the night would go. In and out of a restless slumber as the moon departs for the day and the sun greets you once more. 
For the first time since you moved in together, you and Bucky are hosting a dinner for your friends, his family, and your family. It would be a gathering of at least ten others, not including yourselves, and neither you nor Bucky had ever taken on such a large hosting. Not only that, but you were finally meeting his parents and you wanted—no you needed—so desperately to make a good first impression. 
Everything had to be perfect—it just had to be.
Your limbs thrum with a heavy reluctance as you slowly slide your arms above his, attempting to gently pry them off from around you. However, Bucky has a strong hold on you even in his sleep, so your gentle prying does little to nothing to get him off. 
The last thing you want to do is wake him as he’s had a few hectic weeks at work. His client load went from two high-profile celebrities to seven, ever since he became one of the most successful agents at his talent agency. Thankfully, he’s taken the holidays off and getting some much-needed rest. Hence why finding a way to break free and not disturb his sleep is your main objective.
Since you couldn’t pry him off, you decide to try and slide out of his hold. Wiggling your hips ever so slightly to gradually scoot downwards on the bed. It seems to be working, but as soon as you free yourself he lets out a heavy sigh, causing you to freeze. You slowly tilt your head until you can catch a glimpse of him, relaxing when you notice he’s still fast asleep.
That is until his arms go to wrap themselves around nothing. The warmth of your body missing against his is enough to stir him awake. His eyes groggily blink open and when he sees the space next to him empty, they immediately search for you. When he spots you further down on the bed he frowns, his mind too dozy to register what you were trying to do.
“Hm? C’mere…” Bucky mumbles out, his morning voice gravelly with a gentle edge. He doesn’t let you move further away as he scoops you back into his arms, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and nuzzling his head on top of yours, before promptly going back to sleep. 
You huff out something between an annoyed groan and a soft laugh, realizing he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. As soon as you were back in his arms you found yourself snuggling into his warmth. You couldn’t help it as your body acted on instinct. Whenever he held you, you felt the utmost sense of belonging, almost like you had finally found your place in this world and it was wherever he was. It's a feeling you have lost yourself in from the moment he became yours.
“Bucky, I have to get up,” you whisper against his neck, placing a soft kiss on it. He responds by grumbling out a muffled no. You keep pressing sweet kisses into his skin with every whispered explanation and plea, hoping that would be enough to get him to listen. He doesn’t though, your plan backfiring as he basks in the kisses, even more determined now not to let you leave his side. 
“Sweetheart, I really have to go. There’s an errand I have to run,” your tone is slightly firmer when you notice the kisses are having the opposite outcome you want. At your tone, his eyes fly open, narrowing at you suspiciously, “I thought we agreed to take the holidays off.” You ignore the way his morning voice makes your heart stutter, brushing a few strands of tousled hair from his forehead while you nod, “We did. This isn’t work-related. There’s a list of things I have to go pick up from the store.”
At your explanation, his gaze softens, gently taking your hand from his forehead and placing a tender kiss into your palm, “You don’t need to worry about that. I bought everything already.” His response causes you to frown, unsure if you heard him right. 
“You what? No, I made a list and—”
“I know, darling. I saw the list and went out to get the items yesterday while you were reading in the study. You were so lost in your novel you didn’t notice I left.”
You stare at him with affectionate astonishment, a part of you still has trouble wrapping your head around not having to do everything on your own anymore. Bucky has always been attentive and supportive—even from before you moved in together—acts of service from him were a regular occurrence. Regardless, you sometimes struggle to let go of that control and mindset of doing everything on your own. Years of being independent and living alone—not only as a means of living but also as a way to prove yourself to others—had cost you the habit of relying on anyone when you needed it.
Despite that, Bucky has always been patient with you. Showing you time and time again that you can rely on him—that he is your person and the one who will always be there as a guiding light in the dark.
He smiles softly at your reaction, the ocean in his eyes hazy with exhaustion, and yet glimmering with a profound devotion. He leans forward to capture your lips in a deep kiss that eases your awe and reminds you how much he loves you.
He pulls away, his nose brushing against yours as he whispers, “You deserve rest, my love. You’re not alone anymore, you have me now. Always.” Your eyes drift away from his gaze, your apprehension returning for a brief second, “I know I have you, Bucky. I know that. It’s just…everything needs to be perfect tonight. If you bought everything already then I should get up and—” He silences you with another kiss, one that starts at your lips and then travels all across your face, showering every bit of you with a dose of love until your brain can only focus on him.
“We should get some rest, and later we’ll get up and prepare everything for tonight’s dinner,” he continues to pepper kisses across your face, trailing them down to your neck as he adds, “Everything will be fine. The dinner will be perfect because you’ll be there and I’ll be there and all those who we love and love us will be there too. That’s all we need, darling. We don’t need anything else.” He assures you kindly, his actions and words an effective remedy to your anxiety.
“And here I thought I was the one who had a way with words…” you laugh softly, giving in to his persuasion. A dreamy smile dances on your lips as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and snuggle closer to his body. He lets out a soft chuckle, pulling you in impossibly closer, “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.” You can hear the grin in his voice, your eyelids growing heavier as the lullaby of his heartbeat returns.
“Sleep, my darling. We’ll figure everything out later. Together,” Bucky presses a tender kiss to your forehead before closing his eyes. You whisper out the quietest echo of the word together, before drifting off to sleep. Your heart is at ease, wrapped in the kind of peace only his embrace can offer—the feeling of home.
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ziminy · 15 hours ago
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Nightshift pt.3
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Having them as roommates was a problem
Tags: smut, mdni, ageless and blank blogs will be blocked, explicit language, f!reader, college au, Gojo and Geto as housemates , jealousy (again), filming, fingering, oral (f and m giving and receiving), public s[e]x (in the car) , panty stealing, crying, hand job, double penetration, threesome, hair pulling, edging, overall just me going feral again,
Author's note: I'll be honest with everybody in here, I'm embarrassed by what I'm writing. My creativity surprises me sometimes.
Author's note(again, sorry): I wanted to post it sooner but I'm busy with school and shit. My classes are in the morning and I'm this close on dropping everything for some sleep 🤏 (I wrote this a few months ago and all I can say is that life is so much better after dropping out.)
Pt1 Pt2 masterlist roommatesmasterlist
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Life is strange. It's amusing the way it works. Fascinating, you could even say. Goofy, perhaps. But a thing was clearly, as long as you're housemates with Gojo and Geto you'll never live a peaceful day ever again.
Truly strange.
And you can't even figure it out when it all started, because now it's just normal. Your worries flew out the window a long time ago. Did you think that your relationship was weird? Yes. But it's not that unusual if you don't think about it.
You were anxious because they were anxious. Their weird energy got to you, that's why you ran away. Or maybe your thoughts got to them and now it was this game where everyone goes back and forth for nothing. Fighting over things that aren't even that deep to begin with. Conversation will always be the key. And if you know how to use it, then you'd have access to so many doors in life.
That's some philosophical talk, and we don't do stuff like that in this house. It was an idiot trying to show how dumb the other is, even if they share the same brain cells. Everyone were dumbasses in here. No one knew how to communicate or use the so called keys. Everyone were on their own trying to do what they know the best.
It's complicated. What is right and what is wrong? What made you so irresistible that made those hungry wolves to want to eat you alive? What made you so gorgeous that they couldn't take their eyes away? What made them want to compete with each other when they used to share women like air, changing the person next to them like socks. Here's a lady, and now another.
No one wanted to share anymore. All they wanted to do was to prove that one can have you more than the other. A competition with no start and finish line until you decide to make it stop. Which one you liked more? Which one made you stay up at night or make your pussy wet by just thinking of him?
Which one did popped up in your head first? Did you touched yourself think of someone? The thoughts could go on and on. It was truly amusing the way they didn't try to talk to you. Only make fantasies in their heads while observing you. So small, so cute. So ready to take that cock right now.
One had to do the first move on proving something that it doesn't need to be proved. Someone will cry, someone will laugh. One will end up victorious while the other will be sad. It can be both of them who's crying. It can be a whole another mf that gets you in the end.
Someone need to do something. Quick. Fast. Just hurry up.
And the one who did the first move was Gojo. Just the way he asked you to move in with him, he was also the one that made the decision on what's going to happen next.
It was simple. It wasn't even a move to get you. It was more to piss Geto off. It was to annoy his friend with the fact that he fucks you when he's out. It was to show him that you're having so much fun when he's not home. It was an audio of your sweet moans opened at the wrong time.
Geto didn't had the time to check his phone when he was out. Now that he got home, he walked in the kitchen, ready to eat something with you and his other housemate. He sat down on his chair, took a few bites and then press play on what his friend sent him. Moans. Everyone stopped and turned their heads on the dark haired man.
"Suguru, you dirty bastard." Satoru laughed. You looked in shook. You didn't even recognize the voice of who ever was that on his phone.
"Satoru, why would you send that?"
"Satoru???" you looked at the white haired man and all he did was to laugh.
It was just the start. Next time Geto received a video.
It started with Gojo placing his phone on the kitchen counter, facing you who was washing the dishes. He left his phone there and walked behind you, kissing you softly as his hands went down on you. You only sighed. You stopped whatever you were doing for him. His hands already in your pants, fingers rubbing your clit slowly. Your soft sounds, the way you let him do what he wanted to do. Suguru's eyes were fixed on the screen. He wanted to turn up the volume so bad, to hear you. He wanted to listen to your voice. And then the video stopped with Satoru fucking you with his fingers, his eyes moving on the camera, smirking.
Fucking hell.
How unfortunate for him to be away from home. Why does he have to be out here instead of being in that damn house.
So he waited. He waited until he got home. He waited a few days for his dear friend to go away, to just be out this house so he could get his hands on you.
Ohoho. And when he did.. He placed his phone on the couch, to face your lower half, getting in the picture your thighs and him who was in between your legs, eating you out.
He was doing it with so much passion only to make you loud. To make you clearly shake for the camera to capture it. To make your hands go in his hair so hesitantly, not knowing if you should pull at it or not, if you could even touch him. His arms were flexed, looking so big compared to your body. He was doing it intentionally, he even did a few pushed ups before he even pressed the record button.
He didn't wait for the sun to shine at the right angle for nothing. Everything was calculated, from the way the camera captures your body, to the best place in the house.
And it sure did backfired at Gojo, who was staring impatiently at the clock. When can he go home? When can he see you himself? That fucker. He thinks he can play his game? The game Satoru started? To think that he's the one jealous now.
And here was the plan for the other video the white haired man did. Or this is how it went.
Skin against skin. Usually he would have been scared of crushing you with his weight, but today? His body on top of yours, chest against chest. Your bare skin touching him with nothing in the way, your legs wrapped around his waist. Whenever you or him tried to get a little away, someone dragged the other back. Your nails into his back, holding into him like your life depended on it. Everything felt so intimate. The way you looked at him. Those big eyes that Geto calls ugly. That dumb little smile. You looked in love. In love? No. It can't be. Can you even love to begin with?
Is this what made you happy? Playing this gentleman of a man? Someone who will hold you tight in moments like this? I mean, who doesn't. But did you really liked it that much?So much that you'd look at that guy he calls his friend like you've been in love with him all your life? You're not even doing anything, just kissing, you're bodies being pressed against each other.
He had to try it himself.
Just like before. He waited for the right moment, then acted his plan up. Because if he'll get interrupted or wake up with an unwanted guest he'll go nuts.
He wasn't horny. He wasn't even in the mood to do something today, all he wanted to see was if you were like in that stupid video.
He sat at the edge in your bed, watching you getting your clothes off, never taking his eyes of you, always making you stay in front of him where he can see you better. His hands carefully placed on you, slowly dragging you into his arms.
He kissed your jaw, your neck, his hands all over your body. Just wanting to feel your skin, the warmth you gave him. How you looked so different compared to him. You were glowing, you were like a flower carefully placed in a field full of sunlight. And he was the moon who wanted to take all that happiness. The way you smiled under that damn sun, he wanted to take that away.
"Suguru.." you said his name so lovely. He was really going to bite you.
"Kiss me." he ordered. He wanted you to do a wrong move so he could punish you for looking so warmly. You let him in your arms so easily. It made him mad.
You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. It was so quick that he bearly even noticed.
"You call that a kiss?" he wrapped his arms around you and let himself fall down in bed, dragging you along with him. You yelped. You closed your eyes by how suddenly that was.
Skin against skin, huh? To hold you so close that you basically become a part of him.
He just got an idea.
He wrapped his hands around you while you were on top of him, trying your best to not fall into him. All he did was to tease you. His mouth on your chest, kissing and biting your nipples. One of his hands on your ass while the other was rubbing your back. Making you move your hips without even think on him. What he needed was you all needy for him.
And when he finally got you all desperate, he opened his camera, acting all nonchalant. Acting like he does this on a daily basis, like he have you all over him like this.
"You want me that bad?" he was a good actor, or at least that's what he thought.
"Stop playing with me. I need it right now." his heart skipped a beat, and so did Satoru's when he saw the video. The way you looked down at Suguru. The way you moved his pants to let his cock free, almost jumping on it instantly. It was his laughter that made you stop for a moment. You were frustrated, and you made sure to let him know about your feeling by looking angrily at him. He played with you for so long, you can't even count the minutes he played with your pussy. Fingering you so good and then stopped right when you were so close. He did this so many times that you don't trust a single word he says anymore. "You think it's funny?" you finally got his dick inside you. And oh, you're not going to stop until you get to actually cum this time.
"If you wanted me that much you should have said it earlier." he moved his hips forward, to help you. And to help himself.
"Dickhead." you slapped his chest softly. You couldn't listen to his words even if you wanted to. All you did was to move your hips, you needed any kind of friction. Anything that would calm the aching between your legs. Anything that would finally make you cum.
Your hand went between your legs, rubbing your clit, and biting your lip, refusing to let any sounds out that might feed his ego.
"Y/N." he looked in your eyes. He moved your hand away and he started to rub your clit. All you did was to gasp. "Focus. Move your hips like you mean it." this fucker. All he got from you were some little curses you let under your breath and you moving your hips better.
That video ended with you almost cumming. So close that it got Gojo gasping when he saw how fast the video ended. He didn't got to see you cum? The disrespect. The audacity. The idea he just got.
For the first time since you live there, Gojo call you in his room and placed you on his bed. Until now it was your room or any other place around the house. Anywhere but his own bed.
You never thought you'll get to sit in his bed like this. To get to do the forbidden tango in his room.
He got in bed next to you, placing you on his lap nice and cozy, your back pressed against his chest. "Hold this for me, ok?" he handed you his phone.
"What do you want me to do with it?" you asked unsure. You knew he was filming your little escapades for quite some time now, but to hand you the camera himself?
"Film it. Do whatever you want with it. Show me what you want me to see." you got a little unsure there.
"Alright.." you noticed that it was already recording before you thought of something. The camera was facing your face, capturing Gojo behind you. You moved it lower, now facing your chest, not even sure what he wanted to see.
His hands on your hips, slowly getting his dick inside your pussy. That warm thight pussy he loved so much. "Am I doing good?" his hand moved overs yours, moving the camera lower to film how it looked with his cock inside you.
"Make sure to capture everything." Suguru looked at his phone without any words. It didn't matter what Gojo might think of doing next, Geto haves to be the one with the better idea.
And another video was made.
Geto offered to buy the groceries. It was supposed to be Gojo's time this week, and how could he refuse someone else doing his chores for him? And so, Suguru dragged you with him.
The surprise look on Satoru's face to receive an video when you just left half an hour ago. You on top of Suguru in his car, because the dark haired man took Gojo's car for this quick trip. His excuse was that he mistook the keys with his.
He would had expected that video any time, but not today. Not like this. Not when he was took of guard. He couldn't help but look at the screen and turn the volume up.
You're half muffled moans and Geto praising the shit out of you. "Good girl, just like that." and you couldn't help but bounce on him faster. "Keep it slow now, we wouldn't want someone to notice us." oh, but he was actually dying inside for someone to see you two. Both of your roommates hoped for you to get caught.
"Suguru.." you moaned that name so sweetly. Honestly, Satoru was so jealous right now. If he knew sooner, he wouldn't had let someone else do his chores for him. He could have been in that car and fuck you.
He waited for you to come home. He sat right in front of the entrance, waiting for that fucker to appear. He needed to think of something even better. How about fucking you in Suguru's bed? Or making you wear his clothes to make his friend jealous? Even fuck you in them just to prove a point. Bath you in his perfume so you would smell like him. There was so many options.
And he got an even better idea.
He let you rest for that day. No, he let you rest for the rest of that week. Waiting for the perfect day, the perfect moment.
"It's my turn to do the laundry." Geto sighed. "You got anything else left in your rooms? Give it now." Gojo smiled and shook his head.
"I have nothing in my room." you said.
"Me neither."
"Alright then." he waited for Geto to get started with his work, then he dragged you in his room. He was so impatient that he didn't know what to do faster. He was taking your clothes off, his clothes, kissing you, rubbing that pretty pussy so you would get wet faster. He was so impatient that he didn't even prepared you first, the moment you layed on his bed he got in between your legs, forcing his cock inside your pussy. It hurts a little, but it also hurts his pride not being able to outdo his friend.
He's number one. He's the biggest person here.
He got his phone out as soon as he could move better, pressing the record button as fast as he could.
He was thrusting into you, not even once letting you breathe in peace. "You're pussy feels so good." that's all he could say. "Sucking me in like this." what he got in return was a photo of your underwear. A photo where Geto was holding some pairs of panties that he could recognize them in a instant, they were yours.
"I don't think Y/N would mind if I take some of these." Gojo stared at his phone screen. Tsk. He wasn't satisfied with the reaction he got.
"I'll keep the pair that I just took off her." Geto looked displeased at his phone screen. Would his friend be happy if he just barge in there and auto invite himself in? He didn't do that in the end, he already had other things to do. And if he just go there, Gojo would be the winner because that means he gave in.
"Alright, I don't what's going on between you two but I want you to stop." you went the next day in the kitchen, ready to put an end to this endless fighting of theirs. "I know you've been filming and sending the videos to one another, and I want this to end because this is going nowhere." you sighed. "If you want photos that much you should have asked me instead of fighting."
"You'll send me pictures of you if we stop fighting?" Gojo asked like he didn't heard what you just said. He ignored everything until you said that last sentence.
"That's not what I said."
"You said that you would." Geto totally listened to you, but again, he only understands what he wants.
"Did you even listen to me?"
"So, if we get along again and we stop filming you'll do it?" you could only sigh. These guys were so delusional that you couldn't even talk to them like normal people.
"Alright." you didn't even tried anymore, giving up was the best option.
"Is that an yes?"
"Yes."
"Well, that's good because we weren't fighting to begin with." Geto's words left you in disbelief. Huh?
"Ye, we just like to show what we're doing. Nothing much." Gojo said nonchalantly.
"Why didn't you said that earlier?"
"I was waiting for you to finish talking."
"Alright, so. For starter I want to get photos of your boobies. Some videos of you touching yourself here and there to make my day going when I'm tired. I want that pussy fully on display." Gojo already started a list.
"You could send me a picture right now." Geto's words didn't helped the situation.
"Show me what nudes you have in your phone." Satoru got next to you, trying to see your phone and what's in there.
It was your fault for thinking they're normal, because they're not, not at all.
Fortunately for you, your days became more peaceful. You kept your words to send them some pics now and then, and they stopped competing with each other. Oh, and don't think that you could send them the same picture, because they would get mad.
You hated there, but you gotta learn how to live with it, because you were also receiving stuff from them. A dick pic whenever they missed you, even some videos of them touching themselves moaning your name. It was just crazy. It never fails to make your jaw drop.
But your days came back to normal, no? Whatever normal even means anyway.
You woke up on another peaceful morning, because it was quiet and no one disturbed your sleep. You got up from your bed and went in the kitchen. Just wanting to feel their company there, maybe exchange some small talk and then fall asleep since you feel rather tired and lonely. Instead, you saw your house mates with another guy. A tall blonde guy who looked older than both of them.
You didn't know what to say, you just stood there trying to think of your next move. Go back to your room, it was none of your business, you shall not get involved.
"Oh? I didn't know you're up." the white haired man said before you could go back to bed.
"Good morning." Suguru greeted you, a cup of coffee in his hand.
"Good morning." you quietly said.
"Don't go just now. Come here." can you get a break? You did as he said, you went and sat down at the table at your usual spot. "Y/N, this is Nanami." Gojo said.
"Nice to meet you." you didn't know what to do.
"Nanami, this is our sweet Y/N." Satoru said it with this weird smile on his face. You had no idea what was going on in his head. Can he not embarrass you for once? You and Nanami sighed at the same time.
"I'm sorry for him. He usually behaves like this so I have no excuse." you said in Gojo's behalf.
"I don't expect much from him anyway." you studied the blonde a little. The expensive watch that was on his wrist, and the nice fancy shirt he had on. He had big shoulders, his muscles could be seen even through his clothes. His posture was flawless, everything about his screamed perfection. You didn't mean to stare, but he was definitely eye catching.
Your housemates were watching you. Who's fault was it for getting Kento here? They should have thought of how you'll react first.
They're jealous again.
They just managed to calm themselves and now it's starting again. This again, this again and again. Can they ever take a break?
Was this what you wanted? A guy like him? What's so perfect about Nanami, huh? Was it how he present himself? He looks tired, like he haven't slept in who knows how long. And yet, that didn't stopped him from dressing like usually or doing what he's supposed to do.
He looks like he was working a 9 to 5, and would treat you right. He looks like he would buy you flowers on a daily basis. He looks like he would remember all those small dates where it supposed to be an anniversary or someone's birthday. He looked like he was there to stay and put a ring on your finger. Was this what you wanted? A husband who would help you raise the kids properly?
Both Gojo and Geto gasped at the same time, they did a big mistake.
"Y/N, no." Satoru finally said something when he came back to reality. He haves to do something now so you won't end up married. Especially to Nanami, he looked like he would be perfect, that's what scares him the most.
"Y/N, go to sleep. It's too early for you." you looked confused at both of them. They told you stay there in the first place.
"Huh?" you looked at them in disbelief.
"Just go."
"Alright..?" you got up from your seat and went back to your room. What a bunch of weirdos.
That day, they promised to become just like the enemy, so that way you won't be impressed by some random fucker out there.
Their plan would fail so miserable, like always, but you can't do shit about it. It's not like you can figure their next move to stop them.
You walked out your room to get something to drink, only to be welcomed by them dressed like they were going to a job interview.
You looked at them, blinked a few times then looked behind you. No cameras or anything, or at least you can't see it. Was this some kind of prank? Was it some kind of special day today?
"You're speechless by how handsome I look, huh?" you blinked a few times. "No need to be shy, admire me as much as you need." Gojo striked a few poses.
"What's the occasion?" you asked getting closer to them.
"I always dress like this." the way Suguru lied with a straight face.
"You do? This is the first time I see you like this." you fixed Gojo's tie. "Do I need to wear a dress or something?"
You got dragged in your room and placed on the bed while they were looking in your closet. They put their hands on everything they saw, bras, panties and anything they could find. It didn't matter. If they see it, they'll get their hands on it.
"So what are we doing?" you asked.
"Playing dress up, isn't it obvious?" Gojo got something in his hands and got closer to your bed. "Hands up." he took your shirt off.
"I don't really see anything for you to try." Geto was still looking through your clothes.
"Let me get those down for you." Satoru took your pants off. His hands traveling back to your panties, wanting to take those off too.
"These stays on."
"Nuh uhh." he tried dragging your panties down, only for you to try to pull them up.
"Let me do it." you tried to protest.
"No." he slapped your hand. "We're playing dress up. Get those off and let me choose another pair for you." you gasped at his actions. Did he really just slapped your hand away?
"Satoru." Geto said something, making you to breathe reassured. "Move away. I'll do it." these fuckers. What could you expect.
"Alright, alright! I'll take them off myself." their eyes on you, you got their full attention. You raised your hips and with a simple move you took your panties off. Your actions will always work like magic on them. The way they're so captivated by such a simple movement.
"Put them back on." Satoru said, his eyes still on your skin. The scene from earlier replaying in his mind over and over again.
"You told me to take them off. Why would I have to put them back on?" you could only complain because of how childish this situation was.
Geto got on his knees in front of you, picking the small material that you just took off. "Get up." he commanded.
Can they stop playing with you for at least a moment? You did as he said tho, you got up and you couldn't do much since your way was blocked by the dark haired man. A kiss placed on your lower stomach before he put your underwear back on you. Your hands were on his shoulders, trying to hold yourself from falling.
"Not fair." Satoru dragged you back on your bed. Your back pressed against the blanket and Gojo in between your legs. He got your panties in between his teeth, slowly dragging them down and tossing it somewhere around the room.
"What got into you two again?" it was something sinister about how they look at you. Their eyes dark and filled with some kind of lust you didn't saw it before. It was normal for you to be horny, it was normal for them too, but now it was different. You had no idea if your insides would be rearranged or you'll have the sweetest time of your life. It scared you.
Gojo was breathing against your pussy, hot breath touching your skin over and over. It made you squirm a little. While Geto's hand went through your hair, moving it from your face. He sat down next to your head, his thumb slowly getting in your mouth, giving you something to occupy yourself with.
"Guys?" their silence was scaring you. All you hoped was that you could still walk tomorrow.
Satoru finally got his face in your pussy, he was practically making out with it. Never giving you a break from the start.
"Eyes up on me." Geto kept reminding you. You couldn't even close your eyes, because if you blinked too fast or too long, he also didn't like that.
You could feel Gojo's long fingers getting inside you. Moving them in and out of you for a moment, making you more wet than you already were. Then he started to curl them, instantly making your body shake.
One side was satisfied with your reactions, the other one not so much.
"Focusm" Suguru wanted you to only look at him. His hand now in your hair, keeping you in place so couldn't take your eyes off him.
"Y/N, look at me." Satoru said your name, placing a kiss on your clit before he started devouring it. Your back arches. Suguru gulped at your fucked up expression. It was cute, no, it was in so many ways that he can't describe it. You were breath taking, now and at any other time of the day, every position and anything you might do from any angle. He wanted to fuck you and see more. He was so close on pushing Gojo away and fuck you the way you deserve it.
Gojo didn't looked happy at the way his friend kept your attention all to himself. "Say my name." it was a beg, it was a request. It sounded like anything but demanding. He sounded needy. He needed to hear you praise him, tell him how good he makes you feel and move your hand in his hair.
"Look at me." Suguru kept demanding the same thing over and over again. It didn't matter who's name you said as long as you're only focused on him, right? That means he won.
However, you realized they're doing it again. That useless fighting. You don't want only one of them, you wanted both. A little bit of what they have to offer you. Whatever they wanted to show you, you'll accept it.
They acted like this ever since Nanami was there. They started acting like this out of jealousy.
You wanted to punish them somehow. It was for the useless things they're thinking about.
You opened your mouth, you wanted to say something, yet no word got out your mouth. What if you said another person name. Someone who's not in the room at the moment. Someone who's not usually here at all. Your eyes were sparkling thinking of ways of torturing them, Geto could see that. Those eyes that looked so lovingly now full of fireworks and that dumb smile you had on your face.
Think of him, look at him. Only see him. Say how much you wanted him. Him and him only. What made you full of life if it wasn't him?
You had to do it. You had to punish them for being selfish again. Yet you couldn't. No matter how much you would love to see their reactions, you knew you were digging your own grave. It's you in the end who will suffer for anything they might deserve.
What if you don't say anything at all? What if you keep your voice to yourself and not let them hear you at all. That's what the silent treatment is after all, no? And so you did, you bite your lower lip and put a hand over your mouth.
Geto could only laugh, thinking that you're afraid someone might hear you. No one besides them would hear a thing, he could reassure that. He moved your hand gently, hopping you'll understand him without a word needed. Yet you still refused to let out any kind of noise. "No one will hear you. So don't worry."
"I know." that's the only words you said. You knew and yet you still do it?
"Maybe it's because of you. Look the other way." Gojo said, his hands around your thighs dragging you closer to him.
"It's actually because of you." Geto said, getting more close to you. You didn't said anything. And this only gave them the wrong idea.
They were trying to imitate the enemy, so, maybe it was their clothes? Or maybe the blonde was still in your head and you were trying to think of him? It infuriats them. They only wants your attention, the way you looked at Nanami so curious, so full of questions. You don't look like that at them.
Gojo got up from between your legs and Geto dragged you up in his lap.
"Why you're being a bad girl? Hm?" Suguru's low voice purred into your ear, so close, it gave you chills.
"Are we not enough? What do you want more." you were sandwiched between them, your back pressed on Geto's chest while Gojo was in front of you, getting his body closer to you with each second passes. Your legs were wrapped around Satoru, mostly because he placed them like this, to make sure to have access to you as much as he could. While Suguru's arms were also wrapped around you, keeping you firmly against him, not letting you move an inch.
You still refused to say a thing even if you had no idea what they're talking about. You just got tired of their games, those stupid thoughts of theirs that made your head spin. You couldn't figure out what was going on with them, why were they like this. What made them like this.
"Say something." Satoru's voice had so many emotions in it. Rage, disappointment. Sadness? It was complicated, yet it made your pussy drip.
"Y/N, do you want to see me mad?" Suguru got one of your hands to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand. You were like a doll in their hands. Standing there without doing much. It was supposed to be your punishment for them, for fucking with your life like this when they could talk everything out. But now you want to back down. Mostly because you were feeling scared. Their eyes were scary, the roughness in their hands scared you. How they're squeezing places around your body so hard that it might leave a bruise, and how quiet they became.
Should you apologize? You had no idea. Was it too late to say something?
You opened your mouth, eyes on you for your next move. Yet you still didn't say a thing. You close your mouth and looked away. If they're getting on your nerves you'll definitely say someone else's name to piss them off.
Are you not allowed to get mad? Do you have no right to do so? They did it with their own hands. You can put them in place however you want, whenever you wanted. No, in fact, you'll give them some time to think about this, about how they act in general. Sure, you have no problem with them being themselves, you love it. But it was until some certain point where you would tolerate their behavior.
You put your palms on the bed trying to get up somehow. That action itself made them go feral in the worst way possible. Why are you doing this to them? Their hearts almost stopped working.
"Don't do this, come on." no matter how mad you might be, their pleas sounded like a sweet melody. It was the way they're melting in your arms. Satoru's voice sounded broken when he spoke. You're not even doing much, yet it affects them so much. Both of them were weak for you, you got them on their knees trying to get your attention. Of course they would get mad if another is trying to get in.
You didn't said anything, only looking at them, those big eyes again, it was like the first time you interacted with them. So curious about your surroundings. You looked up at Suguru, and then looked at Satoru, who were looking at you trying to figure out what in the world is going on in your head.
"Say something." Geto's voice was so soft, even if he was angry at you. His hand went lower on your body, caressing your soft skin, somehow hoping that you'll warm up. Maybe you wanted more of their attention? "It's your fault." Suguru looked at Gojo.
"Me? You were the one who was like, look at me. Maybe she got enough of your ass." Satoru tried to imitate Geto's voice.
"Me? It's you. You started this." you tried to not laugh. You can't give up yet, all you wanted was to hear them say that they're sorry, or anything that shows that they realized their mistake, nothing more. But they're refusing to believe it's their fault.
"Alright, stop." you sighed softly. "Think about what you both did." they're still thinking about how you might be seeing another, forgetting about them. Moving out of this place and leaving them to be as miserable as they used to be, all sad and not even happy to be back home, spend all their time outside just to forget about their loneliness.
How dare you play with their feelings? For once in their lifetime they're serious about something and you're just toying with them? Gojo got his hands on your hips, dragging your ass on him, positioning himself after he undid his belt. With a simple movement, his cock was out his pants. Now he was getting in front of your entrance, ready to get inside. Why did you looked surprise, huh. "Why don't you think about what you did?" he's trying to imitate your words, like you're the bad guy.
You gasped when he pushed himself inside you all the way in with a single move, if he could at least give you an warning. Geto got your face in his hand, making you look up at him. "Inside voice. Don't let a single word out." this was ridiculous. What were they even thinking?
You frown, you didn't know what to say or do. You had them in your palm, right? Why were they like this then? This wasn't your plan. All you wanted was for them to think about their actions.
You wanted both of them, you gave your time to both of them. It wasn't only one who received your attention, it was both. You didn't let a single one feel left out, and they still dare to think that you're selfish.
"Bad boys." you said out of breath, trying to degrade them somehow.
"Oh yeah?" Satoru could only laugh. "I can show you how bad I really am."
"Sweetie, you have no idea what you're talking about." Geto felt amused by your words. They were so considered of you until now, or they tried. Sure, it might have not work all the time since they forget halfway through that's not only about them. But they tried, no? It was improvement in a way or another.
Gojo's hands were gripping your hips, moving in and out. The friction was overwhelming. You wanted to change the position, it was uncomfortable. You don't know where to even look when they were squeezing you between them.
Your hands were shaking, you didn't know where to put them since both of them annoyed you. You wanted to keep them to yourself, yet you were dying to do something.
You closed your eyes, grabbing your own thighs and leaving red marks on them from your nails, being around them was so stressful.
You bite your lower lip, trying your best to stay put it place. A few tears went down your face, the way Gojo was fucking into you was just.. Just. You can't even say words. "Cry for me. Let me hear that voice." Satoru's face went to your shoulder, trying to rest against it.
"Keep that voice inside." Geto was trying to push Gojo away. Wanting to tournament you for a little longer.
"Don't listen to him." the white haired man was out of breath, voice so low that it gave you chills. "Open your eyes, look at me."
Suguru's hand went under your chin, raising it to make you look at him. "Look at me." his voice sounded so soft compared to his thoughts and actions. You kept your eyes closed, wanting only to focus on their voices, on how they breathe.
"Fuck." Gojo said out of breath. He bite into your shoulder, making you groan for a moment.
Then a sudden thought went through Geto's head. He could do something so funny right now, something that could help you feel better, or not. It all depends on your performance. So, his hand traveled to your pussy, rubbing your clit in small circles and making your walls squeeze Satoru's dick. Couldn't they just act like this and stop being fuckers?
Without even thinking, one of your hands went of Gojo's shoulder while the other grabbed Geto's arm. You were shaking, you were biting your lip and you were so close. Satoru could feel that, and Suguru realized what was going on by your actions, you look desperate only when your about to cum.
Now, this is where was the funny part, at least for Geto. He dragged his hand back, leaving you with less friction than before. But that only caught Gojo's attention who understood what was going on without a single word needed. So, now you were left all alone without any kind of pleasure or friction, since even the white haired guy got out of you, leaving you there panting heavily and trying to understand what was going on. This left a bad feeling in your stomach, it left you all confused and trying to regain your conscious, your brain couldn't work properly.
"Why do you look so disappointed?" they were mocking you, you could feel it by the tone of their voices.
"Were you close?" so painfully close. That would have been a good orgasm if they didn't stopped.
Suddenly, you woke up being turned around, ass in the air and face pressed against your blanket. "Up." Satoru moved in front of you, making you rest your body weight on your arms.
"Be a good girl and you might cum this time." Suguru was behind you, placing a slap on your ass before he pushed his cock inside you.
You could feel a hand behind your neck, dragging your face up to look at the white haired man. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips for a moment before he too pushed his dick inside your mouth. They loved stuffing you good, didn't they? The way you struggle to take them, and yet doing so good.
Maybe it was your fault too, for ending up like this. You knew you shouldn't have fucked around with them, but you always go back, asking for more and letting them do whatever they wanted with you. Plus, you feel so good, like, so so good. It was impossible to hold back around you.
That's why they keep pushing more of them inside of you, trying to make you take more. Because you, yourself are greedy for more. You always end up begging for more, so how could they not give you more?
"Relax." Suguru said as he kept feeling you clenching around him, making him groan as one of his hands was traveling around your body.
But how could you relax? You were so close, and knowing them, they might deny you again. You wanted to cum, you needed this orgasm and if they're edging you again you swear you will leave through that door and find somebody who will give you what you want. They seemed to enjoy this, so why couldn't you do as well?
Your hand went to the one behind you, dragging him closer and making sure he stays there. Just a little more, it was so close. You might as well start crying because of how it was feeling.
A thing that they loved more than edging you over your limits was seeing you cum. It was something about the way you look when you're all fucked up. So it wasn't surprising when they dropped everything they were doing and focused on you, because they too know this would be a big one.
You woke up with your face against the bed sheets, hands all over you once again and all kind of words being whispered in your ear, about how good you're doing. How you'll get a lot more after this, how they'll make you cum again and again, for as long as you want. Well, you both know that some of those were lies, because it was more about until when they want this to continue.
Your cries were satisfying, and they aren't even afraid to admit that. How you grip the sheets underneath you, or how you moved your hand on Satoru, holding into him as you came, leaving a big mess on the bed as your body juices came out.
They both looked at you, not believing what they just saw. "Did you just squirted?" the white haired man said, whistling at the view you're giving him.
"I'm sure she can do it again, can't she?" that was more than enough to know that it would be a long day. You doub you'll be able to get out of bed any time soon, and who knows, maybe it won't be as bad as you think.
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novvabee · 13 hours ago
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Idk if you’re taking requests but I’d love another poly! Jegulily x reader smut, maybe the boys walking in on reader and Lily 👀
so uh... idk if im good at writing smut but this one is for you love!!! also i am writing this from a hospital bed and my brain is only half working so
Caught
summary:James and Regulus catch you and Lily having some alone time
cw: MDNI. smut, this is kinda pwop, oral (f and m receiving) unprotected piv, cumplay?, swearing, idk this is literally just smut, lmk if anything needs to be added.
word count: 4.2k
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Lily couldn’t be more perfect if she tried, her golden shining skin, her blazing emerald eyes, her ethereal copper hair. She was perfect in every sense of the word and you couldn’t believe she was yours. 
How truly lucky you were. You got her all to yourself, yours to hold, to sleep next to, to feel. She was all yours, if only you didn’t share her.
You sometimes forgot that she wasn't only yours. You forgot that you had to share. 
You loved your boyfriends, of course you did. And they loved you and Lily just as much. But there were days, moments that you just had to have her to yourself. You had to allow yourself to give into the pure greed you felt. She was yours, and you were hers.
That feeling, that greed, was especially present now, when she was pulling you upstairs into your bedroom. To be fair, you had been all over her all day, pulling her close and kissing every bit of skin you could reach. You could tell she tried to not let it affect her, but she had her limits. Limits you knew how to push and bend, knew exactly what to do or say to get exactly what you wanted.
Once she had finally snapped and gripped your wrist firmly, pulling you along behind her, you knew you had reached your goal. You got her to fold with a few whispered words and a coy look.
From pulling you behind her to pushing you into the room and onto the bed, every moment was heating up in the most delightful way.  From her lips to her touch, you felt the flame of desire ignite and there was no extinguishing it now. Not as she climbed atop you, not when she lifted your shirt from your body, not when she kissed down your frame all the way to the flimsy material of your underwear that you were left in.
You could live in this moment forever. You could bask in the feeling of her gripping your thighs and pulling them apart, slotting herself nicely between them. 
She slid her fingers into the waistband of said flimsy panties and slid them down your legs and threw them somewhere near the door. She made quick work of diving in, licking a stripe up your core. You groaned at the feeling, her tongue circling your clit over and over.
See, you all agreed that it was fine if two of you broke off every now and then for some quality one on one time. There was no rule against just you and Lily having some fun on your own, the other two didn’t have to be there. But, there was a sort of clause to this, just don’t get caught by the other two. More importantly, don’t get caught by Regulus.
At the beginning of your relationship, you often felt guilty, excluding the other two. That was, until Regulus had you in the shower all alone, growling that if he ever caught you like this with James or Lily, you would regret it. And that intrigued you.
Ever since then, you had yet to be caught, to see exactly what you would be regretting if you were. Now, there had of course been some close calls, but you took pride in yourself for the fact that you were incredibly sneaky and mischievous.
Today, you thought it was going to be one of those times, where you were able to sneak off and not be caught, just like every other time. That was until you heard the click of the door handle and looked just in time to see James and Regulus enter the room.
You saw James’s face spark with confusion then awe as he drank in the sight of Lily on her knees in front of you, lounging on the edge of the bed. 
Regulus looked slightly different. You saw him look from you, to Lily, to the panties on the floor right in front of where he stood, then back to you. All with an unchanging expression. His eyes bore into yours, and you knew that you were fucked now.
“Lily,” you whined, trying to wiggle your hips out of her grasp, but she wouldn’t budge. You tried again, this time trying to push her away.
“I hear them,” she acknowledged. She didn’t halt her actions, if anything, it just encouraged her.
Your eyes were still locked on Regulus’s. His face still void of any shock, any emotion at all really. It was a strange contrast to James’s wide eyed stare and blushed cheeks, now the same deep pink color of his cock which was no doubt hardening beneath his jeans by the second.
With Lily’s continued ministrations, you couldn’t help the small moan that left your lips. You tipped your head back and allowed yourself to drink in the pleasure, whatever consequences be damned. Lily clearly wasn’t stopping, so why shouldn’t you continue to feel good?
You heard Regulus approach, his footsteps along with the wet sloppy noises that came from where you and Lily were attached being the only noises filling the room. He stopped just short of the side of the bed and reached to grasp your face in one of his hands, turning you to face him. You looked up at him and felt your heart rate rise in anticipation, wanting to finally find out what he had in store.
To your surprise, he just leaned down and kissed your lips. It was sweet, soft. He broke away and slid in behind you, helping to prop your body up so Lily could get better access. She took full advantage of this and flattened her tongue, adding pressure to your bud so nicely. 
Regulus again turned your face to kiss you. You craned your neck to the side in an almost uncomfortable angle to reach him. He gave you a few soft kisses before licking along your bottom lip. You opened your mouth for him, allowing his tongue to explore yours. Your tongues danced together, there was no need for a battle of dominance when you both found a rhythm.
Lily seemed to be annoyed that the attention was off of her when she was the one working so hard, so she decided to bring a finger to your entrance and circle it, collecting your wetness before pushing in ever so slightly.
You forgot Regulus, snapping your attention back to her. You met her sultry gaze staring back at you as if tempting you to look away again. You saw her tongue start kitten licking you again and you moaned out, throwing your head back against Regulus’s shoulder. He stayed firm behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle to hold you in place for Lily.
Lily took Regulus’s help and added another finger to your entrance, pumping both in and out of you, curling upwards in the way only Lily did. You lost all your senses, letting out breathless moans and praises of Lily’s name. She felt so amazing. You were becoming undone for her, getting closer and closer to your orgasm.
“You just gonna stand there, pretty boy?,” you heard Regulus’s voice from behind you, "Or are you gonna come join us?”. 
Lily halted her work on you and turned to look over her shoulder at where James still stood, your juices covering her mouth and chin. You whined, not wanting her to stop, but also looked to where your other boyfriend was.
He looked like he was in desperate need of some attention. You smirked, enjoying the fact that he could get this worked up by just watching you three. He stood, a little spacey and breathless. 
You decided to help him out and smiled sweetly at him. “C’mere Jamie, I wanna play with you.” He nodded and moved quickly to be by your side.
Lily turned back to you and winked up at you before continuing. You fought the urge to roll your eyes back, you had to be somewhat coherent for James now. You turned your attention to where the boy was struggling to undo the button on his jeans, too busy watching what Lily was doing. You took pity on him and helped him. 
His eyes flicked to you and gave you an appreciative look. He slid his jeans down his thighs leaving him in just his boxers. You reached up to wrap your hand behind his neck, pulling him into a kiss. His lips were needy against yours, eager for your touch at last. He shimmied out of his boxers and allowed his cock to be free of its restraints.
You took him in your hand, gathering his leaking precum to use as lubrication. You stroked him up and down with ease, pulling away from the kiss to allow his moans to ring through the air. Such sinful moans falling from his lips and you had only just begun touching him. 
Regulus chuckled from behind you, amused with how needy James was. Regulus seemed to reward your actions by attaching his lips to the small space under your ear and sucking, biting. There was surely to be a bright purple bruise there the next time you looked at yourself in the mirror.
Everything was getting too much for you, every action, every noise, every touch, was blending together and you were falling fast. You felt the brink of orgasm approaching. You couldn’t help but moan out, throwing your head back onto Regulus’s strong shoulder. 
Lily’s eyes shot up to yours, looking so sultry yet angelic between your legs, her tongue working her magic. She lapped you up in time with her fingers curling in just the right way, the way that only Lily understood. You were right on the edge, letting out breathless moans and chants of Lily’s name, before she suckled on your clit as her finishing move of her routine, and you were undone.
You felt every wave of pleasure as Lily worked you through your orgasm. “Good girl,” she drawled, giving you the praise she knew you wanted, Regulus doing the same by kissing your neck and shoulder sweetly. You relaxed for one moment, trying to catch your breath, before you heard a whimper beside you.
Your attention turned to the sad looking James at your side. You had forgotten his pleasure when seeking your own, and now he was pouting. You giggled, trying to compose yourself, and peeling yourself away from where Regulus and Lily had you, and crawled into James’s lap. Lily took your spot in Regulus’s lap, lounging lazily as both of them watched you and James.
Facing him, you took his face into your hands and pecked his lips. He tried to deepen the kiss again, wanting to continue where you had left off, but you cood, “Awe baby, I’m sorry. Did I forget about you?” James nodded fiercely, arms tugging you closer to him, trying to feel you everywhere. You could feel his dick so close to your bare cunt and groaned, grinding down on him to elicit the same reaction.
He whimpered and bucked his hips up into yours, dangerously close to entering you.
“Do you wanna be inside me baby? Would that make up for it?” you asked. James was almost shaking beneath you as he nodded and bucked up to meet your core again. You chuckled at his attempt to enter you, but looked to your other two lovers, just to make sure everything was alright.
Regulus had Lily in a similar position that you had just left. She was leaned up against his chest, legs spread for Regulus’s hands to work on her dripping cunt. You let out a short breathless moan at the sight. Regulus was whispering something into Lily’s ear that had her moaning and throwing her head back the same way you were just moments ago. 
James must have had enough of your inattention, because he bucked up into you once again, this time finding his mark. James slipped into you easily due to the wet mess you had become on Lily’s tongue. You both groaned out at the familiar sensation, James stretching you out and you squeezing him in the way he loves. 
Still facing him, you grabbed his face and pulled him into a fast and messy kiss. You both felt that needy desperation and melded together as you connected. James opened his mouth for you and you took advantage by licking into it. He moaned and pushed your hips down onto him even further. You threw your head back and let out a rather pornographic, attention seeking moan, putting on a performance for Regulus and Lily just as much as you were for James.
You started grinding down onto James, back and forth, as he let out soft whimpers. You moved your hips in a silent rhythm, getting James as close to his release as you could without bringing him to the edge. You moved your hips in time with his thrusts, the way you knew he liked, and let him think he was the one in control by allowing him to move your hips back and forth on his cock. He brought one hand up to cup your breast, pawing at it before taking your nipple into his mouth and suckling. You moaned and gripped his hair at the back of his head, tugging just slightly. 
You snuck a look at Lily and Regulus where he had his ring and middle fingers pumping in and out of her at a rapid pace. Lily’s face was twisted with pleasure and ecstasy, eyes screwed shut and cheeks reddening to match the color of her lovely hair. She was going to come undone soon, and you couldn’t wait to hear the beautiful noises she would make. You know that watching you and James was tipping her closer and closer to the edge.
You rocked your hips on James at the same time as Regulus’s fingers sliding in and out of Lily. You cried out, gripping James’s shoulders and squeezing with your nails, no doubt leaving tiny crescent moons indented into his skin. You knew that sent a rush of pleasure down to James cock by the way he twitched inside of you and he let out a gargled moan.
You watch as Lily’s chest heaves up and down, moaning so seductively and making you want her between your thighs again. She let out moans in quick succession, squirming in Regulus’s grasp, legs flailing and hands gripping his thighs, anything to try and get away. But Regulus was all too used to this, and had her tightly against him as he continued his assault on her cunt. Fuck you werent going to last much longer.
In out, in out, in out. You could make out the sweat lining Lily’s chest. You started bouncing on James in time to Regulus now. James whimpered and nuzzled into the crook of your neck, giving you full control without pretending now. Bouncing, bouncing bouncing, closer and closer to the edge. Regulus added his thumb to brush Lily’s clit, and it had her screaming. You nuzzled back into James and slammed your hips down onto his, clenching his cock hard and feeling him spurt into you, moaning your name over and over, kissing your neck and holding you tight into him. You felt so good, wanting, needing to continue to rock your hips onto his, but you didn’t want to overstimulate him, especially when he had been such a good boy for you. 
You didn’t have to wait for long, Regulus was pulling you off of James moments after James was completely coming down from his high. Both you and James whined at the feeling of the loss of each other. You felt the emptiness rush over you, but Regulus had a look in his eye that meant you wouldn’t have to go empty for long.
Regulus laid you down on the bed, smiling down at you. You became suddenly shy at his attention, remembering what he had said all that time ago about being caught, and now here you were, caught, and at his mercy. You were slightly scared, but you needed something, anything from Regulus. You would take the rough punishment, the unfair edging, the nerve-shattering overstimulation, anything.
 “My turn baby,” He said, kissing your clavicle and taking your right thigh and pushing it down on the bed next to your body, giving him unrestricted access to your pussy, still dripping with James release. Regulus reached down between your two bodies and spread James’s cum up and down your cunt for lubrication. You could have cum from just that alone, but he then dipped two fingers into you, curling them upwards and making your back arch, before pulling them out and using James’s cum as lubrication for himself, tugging his cock once, twice, before lining up with you.
You looked over to where James was now between Lily’s thighs, eyes glazed over from pleasure. Lily’s fingers tangled in James’s locks as she used her leverage to grind on this tongue, meeting him lick for lick.
Regulus turned your face back to him, squishing your cheeks so that your lips pouted out. He chuckled at your expression. “Eyes on me now babygirl, yeah?” he said, more like demanded.
You nodded to him, eyes not leaving his, as you felt his tip line up with your entrance. He then pushed in, so slowly. Inch by inch he pushed in until he bottomed out. You had no breath to moan or cry out. He pulled out ever so slightly before thrusting in again. You arched your chest up to meet his and he took this as a sign to speed up a little more.
Still holding your right thigh in place, he thrust into you deeper. You felt every glorious inch of him and forgot about the whole ‘being caught’ scenario… Maybe he did as well. Maybe there was no reason to worry yourself. You let yourself relax and enjoy it all.
You finally got out a strangled moan, encouraging Regulus on. He was slipping in and out so easily, so quickly, that you barely had the right state of mind to notice that James and Lily were now 69ing.
Regulus gripped your thigh with one hand and brought his other to grip your throat, stabilizing himself as he thrust even harder into you. You whimpered, half at the way he was making you feel, and half due to the moans coming from both overstimulated James and Lily.
Regulus squeezed your throat in the most delicious way that made the sides of your vision go fuzzy and all the blood go straight to your pussy. Regulus pounded into you with vigor as he saw your eyes start to roll back into your skull. He was letting out breathless sounds, the only thing close to a moan he would ever let out, while you while you completely let go, moaning and cursing, chanting his name like a sinful prayer.
“Reggie, R-Reggie.” you cried out.
He smirked down at you. “What is it baby?” he asked with fake worry. You could hear the noises that James and Lily were making and you knew you were going to cum for Regulus embarrassingly fast.
“C-could we… switch positions. P-please?” you asked as he continued pounding into you.
Wordlessly he gripped your hips and turned you so that you were on your hands and knees. He pushed down on your middle back so that your tits met the bed and your ass was perfectly on display for him. From this position, you could watch James and Lily with ease. She was on top, riding his face, her juices running down his neck and chest, his cock a deep red, ready to be played with again.
You caught Lily’s eye and for the second time tonight, she winked at you. You turned into a shy mess again, hiding your face in the sheets before you felt Regulus slide his dick up and down your slit, recoating himself to push into you. 
He lined himself up with your entrance yet again, but it was you who pushed back onto him. He let out a low groan and took your hips in his hands. He wasted no time, holding you in place as he pounded into you. You moaned so loudly that you were sure everyone down the block could hear you, but you didn’t care, his cock was too deep, he felt too good. And Lily and James sounded as if they were right there with you, feeling just as amazing. 
“Fuck James,” Lily moaned out, lazily stroking his cock while still riding his face.
Regulus continued thrusting, bending one of his legs to the side of you for better leverage, reaching new depths. You cried out broken moans holding off your orgasm as long as possible, but you couldn’t hold it for much longer.
“I, Reggie, I’m s’close,” you moaned. “Please can I cum?” you still didn’t know for sure where you stood with him, if he was going to rip away your orgasm at the last second for getting caught.
Regulus just breathed out a “Cum whenever you want baby.”
He thrust into you faster now, knowing that you were on the brink. You couldn’t stop it, everything again came crashing down on you. You screamed out, but Regulus shoved your face into the bed to muffle the sound, still fucking into you to chase his own release. 
You couldn’t catch your breath, listening to James come undone next, then Lily right along with him, her high pitched moans reverberating off the bedroom walls. 
Regulus pounded into you for a good while after you had cum, James cuddled into Lily’s lap as they both just watched you take your pleasure.
Your body felt so lifeless as Regulus used it, pounding into you like a doll. You loved it. He was close, his thrusts becoming sloppy and not as coordinated as usual. You decided to finish your performance with an encore. 
“Fuck Reggie,” you moaned out with a scratch in your voice from all the moaning and screaming. “You fill me up so good.”
You felt him twitch, gripping your hips and getting ready to spill into you.
“Merlin, you feel so good Reggie.” you coaxed, trying to get him to cross the finish line like all of you already had.
“You know how to make me feel so good, Y/N.” Regulus said, out of breath and sweat dripping down his temple as he chased his high.
You moaned once more before hitting the final nail on the coffin. “I love you Reggie.” you breathed out.
This completely broke him. He threw his head back, eyes tightly shut as he let out a whimper for you, coating your walls with his hot ropes of cum. You smiled and moaned with him, loving the fact that you got him to make such pretty noises, especially when he is the most reserved out of the four of you.
You confidently whipped around to face him, disconnecting from his cock to connect to his lips with a small peck. He smiled down at you yet again. “I love you too,” he replied softly.
You crawled to where James was laying on the bed, beat and ready to cuddle and sleep. Lily had gone to grab a few towels to wipe off with. You kissed James’s cheek and asked if he had enjoyed himself. He nodded sleepily and you giggled.
Lily took care of James while Regulus grabbed a cloth and wiped your core down for you. You told him you could do it yourself, but he insisted. 
“I thought you were going to be mad at me.” you admitted to him, breaking the comfortable silence that had built throughout the room.
“Why would I ever be mad at you babygirl?” Regulus replied to you, wiping down your thighs where he and James’s cum had mixed and dripped out.
You shrugged but said “Well because of what you said about if you ever were to catch me… I thought that you’d be mad or jealous or something.” you tried to explain.
He chuckled, folding the small towel before throwing it somewhere near the laundry. “Oh baby,” he said, “As long as I am able to join, I’m never going to be mad or jealous.” He kissed the top of your head before slotting himself behind you, spooning you. “That is, as long as I am able to join…”
“I would never not want you to join.” you said to him quickly. “I like when we all have fun.”
“Oh baby,” Lily said, crawling in behind James to spoon him just as Regulus was spooning you. “You didn’t like when it was just me and you?” she teased.
“I did!” you tried to defend yourself. “I just… I don’t want anyone to ever feel left out.”
Regulus cooed at you and kissed your cheek, cuddling into you. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” Regulus said.
“She certainly is.” Lily said, licking her lips and winking at you again.
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oh gosh... i will check for spelling and grammar issues tomorrow whenI am slightly more aware of my surroundings but hey, first work of 2025 done!!! please let me know if there is like a glaring issue or anything lmao. please send in asks/requests case i am SO BORED in this hospital ❤️
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strandnreyes · 1 day ago
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Hi, Jen
Would like to participate 3 word fic game but having too much in my mind so… here we are 😉 feel free to pick one (or multiple)
A: amnesia, always, awe
B: Buttercup, bacon, breeze
C: crash, clueless, coding
D: darling, diamond, dildo
E: Elf, eavesdrop, evil
F: failure, FBI, fatal
G:Gwyn, glimpse, grave
H: hope, hypothermia, healing
I: ICU, irises, imagine
J: jacket, jazz, jostled
K: knuckles, knot, knock
L: lasagna, lube, Lou
M: McLaren, missionary, milestone
N: nightmare, neurological, never
O: omelet, open, ocean
P: procrastination, prostate, plead
Q: Quebec, quit, quarterback
R: relapse, raincheck, ring
S (1): socks, snow, subway
S (2): sleepless, silence, survive
T: Tyler, Thomas, thief
U: Utopia, unknown, unicorn
V: van, violin, voicemail
W: wonderland, wand, wings
X: X-ray, xoxo, X-men
Y: yearn, youth, York
Z: Zoom, zucchini, zoning
first of all, WOW LOOK AT ALL OF THESE IM OBSESSED!!! because you took the time to come up with all this, I want to write all of them eventually!! ill pick at the list!
A - amnesia, always, awe
TK is confused when he wakes.
He doesn’t know what this room is, it’s certainty not his own. A strange bed, he could do with, but there’s a strange man next to him that’s the most alarming part. TK thinks he’s should be more scared, but for some reason this feels entirely safe, and he lets his body relax into the bed as he observes the sleeping man beside him. Curly hair, strong brow bone, long eyelashes. He’s beautiful.
And suddenly, he’s awake.
“Hey,” he croaks before clearing his voice. “How’d you sleep?”
TK grips the edge of the comforter in his hands. “Where am I?”
Something flickers in this man’s eyes that TK can’t name. “We’re in our home. My name’s Carlos. Your husband,” he says easily, like that doesn’t flip TK’s entire world around. “You had an accident a few years ago and now your memory is a little funny.”
TK tries to process that. It should be news to him if what Carlos is saying is correct, but there’s something about it all that gives him a sense of deja vu.
“I feel like you’ve told me this before,” TK whispers, guilt settling see within him. He hardly knows this man, yet deep down TK’s soul recognizes him, and he deserves better than a life of reciting an introductory lesson to TK’s life every morning.
Carlos gives him a small smile. He intends to reach out, and then looks like he second guessed it. TK makes the leap to close the gap, letting their hands intertwine. “I’ll tell you as often as I need to,” Carlos promises, and TK believes him.
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ephemerensis · 2 days ago
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Steamroller // Tim Drake x GN! Reader
happy new year! little enemies to lovers kind of thing kind of (theyre just like on opposite ends and they don’t really know it). stalker update for all interested parties: i think he’s starting to lose interest and give up 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️! also i graduated! yippee! NOT proofread.
Your favorite nights were ones like these, windswept and carefree as you sped down an empty street on your motorbike. With the last of your tasks wrapped up for the week, it was smooth sailing until the next rotation. Or so you thought before you heard a familiar grating voice bark at you, swinging into the view of your side mirror and chucking something at you.
Switching lanes, you narrowly avoided the batarang that came whizzing by. This guy again. Swinging your bike back around, you pushed the brakes to screech to a halt.
“Nice try bat rat, maybe aim next time!”
If it wasn’t so dark, you’d see the scowl plastered on his face as he stalked towards you. Red Robin hated you, and that was an understatement. Which was fine, you didn’t like him much either.
“Didn’t need to,” he spat. Pressing a button on his suit started up something like the sound of metal scraping pavement behind you. Before you could react, the sharp little object he threw at you came reeling back where it came, and the wheezing sound of your back tire losing air came with it. He threw a grappling hook at you.
“You’ve got to be joking.” In a way, it was your fault for taunting the guy. But this was the sixth encounter this week, if he wasn’t constantly out to get you, you’d think he were in love.
“What were you doing at the rendezvous point Penguin set up?” He stalked towards you, for what you weren’t sure. Sometimes he just wanted to provoke you, other times he’d just go for the swing. But you didn’t have time for that today.
“Intel, not that it’s your business.” You ripped a patch out from your utility belt, slapping it on the tire he just rudely tore a hole in before applying pressure to see if it’d last the way back.
“I’ll decide what my business is.”
“You stalking me everywhere says otherwise.” The tire sank more than you would’ve liked, but it would do. He stopped ten feet in front of you; looks like he didn’t want to fight tonight either. You rummaged through your pockets for good measure.
“I am not stalking you. You’re just where trouble happens to be.”
“Yeah. If that helps you sleep at night.” When your fingers brushed against the smooth plastic you were searching for, you mounted the bike again, turning on the headlights and adjusting your mirrors. It’s important to drive safe. “Anyways! Move.”
“What-“ Before he could finish his thought you pushed on the accelerator, watching him dive out of the way. It’s a shame his reflexes were so fast, if you ran him over he’d be out of commission for at least a month.
You tossed the plastic discs behind you as you sped off, leaving a flush of smoke behind you. He was good, but he wouldn’t be able to trace you with this.
Mercenary work never really was for you, let alone vigilante work. But growing up poor in Gotham and constantly grappling with loan sharks and the other unsavory groups your parents brought upon your family taught you a few things. And you found out you were pretty good at getting things done, the sneakier stuff: spying, stealing, occasionally taking out single targets, the quiet things. It felt bad but being hungry felt worse, survival of the fittest or something like that.
You were so good you paid it all off, and made a profit; enough to get yourself and your brother through college, and give the ol’ crime lords the slip. And things were good.
You liked your 9 to 5 office job, sorting through papers and typing on your laptop. You liked talking to your neighbors and inviting them over on the occasion for taco night. You liked your partner and the cozy apartment you lived in together.
Until your useless brother threw it all away, talking to the wrong people, getting into debt again, throwing around your name where it would mean anything, and it was square one.
So now you’re here. Running from some vigilante freak that has it out for you when you haven’t even done anything all that bad; it’s the people you work for he should be worried about. Instead he wants to breathe down your neck every night of the week, and he fails, every time. Maybe that was why he got so mad, as if there aren’t bigger fish to fry.
When you got back to your apartment, it was almost three in the morning. Slipping in as quietly as you could manage, you breathed a sigh of relief to find all the lights still off. Your boyfriend, Tim, always sleeps with a night light on, something about being scared of the dark. Lucky for you, he worked ungodly hours which made sneaking around a lot easier.
You’d just slipped into your pajamas when you heard the front door open and someone flicked the lights on. You could tell Tim was frustrated by the way he walked, brisk and heavy as he tugged off his coat and tossed his tie into the abyss. But he softened when he saw you, stopping in his tracks with an almost guilty look on his face, like he was sorry for feeling anything but joy in your presence.
“Oh hey, were you waiting up for me? I told you not to.” You shook your head, making your way over to press a kiss to his cheek and hold his hands. They were still cold from outside, the walk from the parking garage must’ve been treacherous.
“Are you okay?,” you asked, running your thumbs over the back of his hands. They were rough hands, surprising for a rich boy, but in your palms they were always so gentle.
He let out a breath, laughing a little before settling into a rueful smile, “I can’t get anything past you, can I? I’m okay. Just work stuff.”
“What kind of work stuff?” You tightened your grip on him, tugging him over to sit with you on the couch. He complied, leaning on your shoulder as he sunk into the cushions.
“Just something I can’t quite… resolve.” He sounded so tired. Business always went well, and Tim was a genius, it was a wonder how he ran into so many problems in the office. Sometimes you wanted to reach into that pretty skull of his and take a peek into his brain, maybe he was just overthinking things, or maybe you’d finally understand that you could never understand. Both would soothe you.
“Yet. Everything works out in time, and you’re the best I know. Can I help?” You felt him tense when you ran your hand over his shoulder, pulling away immediately to check on him. But before you could manage to ask he reached for you, shaking his head.
“No. It’s sensitive material. I’m okay,” he insisted, leaning on you again as he perched his arms neatly where they would fit around you. “Can we just stay like this for awhile?”
It was a good thing he never asked for anything malicious, because you’d say yes to just about anything he asked.
“Yeah.” You’d never known power so intimately before you held his skull to your chest. The way he surrendered himself and was whole, shedding the burdens of his responsibilities entirely to be vulnerable for a moment. But it was coupled by an intense fear, that his trust was rare and very easily abused or misguided if you weren’t careful. And if you weren’t, it felt as if he wouldn’t ever be vulnerable again.
“Thank you, and I love you,” he whispered. Your tired, hardworking boy.
“I love you more,” you answered.
It turns out the “I’m okay” business was a massive tri-colored bruise that bloomed on his left arm. He was careful to hide it, and if you didn’t wake up a little earlier than usual you would never have known. You didn’t ask, clearly he didn’t want you to, but you were concerned— and moreso curious. He did spar with his siblings, this you knew, but they’d never do something like that to him. Maybe he was sleep deprived and got stuck between the elevator doors somehow, you wouldn’t put it past him. If you had time later, you could check in while he’s in the office, drop off dinner or something to make sure he wasn’t getting picked on.
You got up an hour after him, as you always did. There was a rhythm to your morning routine that you adored, it was comfortable; reliable. Tim made the coffee, and you made breakfast. When you first moved in together he’d offered to cook, being the one to get up first and all, but he was hopeless. Anything beyond instant noodles was a fire and food safety hazard. And you made a mean scrambled egg.
You cooked so he did the dishes, a compromise you never objected to— it was your least favorite house chore. You’d loop his tie for him when he was done, and he’d kiss you on the forehead to leave first. Your job started a little later.
At least it would if you hadn’t requested a temporary leave of absence while you worked for Gotham’s worst. You had to report whatever intel you gathered yesterday night to Black Mask. He’d have another assignment for you after, you were sure. But if you were efficient with these things, it could all be over in a month or so.
That’s what you told yourself as you waved him out the door. Thursday nights Tim usually got back at a human hour, if you could wrap up business early you could be home by the time he was too.
Black Mask was waiting for you by the time you got there, unsurprisingly. It never got easier looking at him, freakish and impossible to read, behind his skeletal metal teeth.
“Penguin’s plan?” He’d asked before you had the chance to fully enter the room, eager as ever to maintain his grasp on power. Breathing isn’t worthwhile unless you’re winning he told you once.
“He wants to spread some influenza with his birds. It’s not serious, but the cure he’s selling is. It’s highly addictive and one of a kind. I got photos on this drive.” You placed it on the man’s desk, pushing it towards him as far as you’d dared. “He’s colluding with the woman who runs the second biggest pharm-tech company in the city. It has a six week timeline, some of it was in motion last week so five from here out.”
“Okay.” Without missing a beat he’d already decided your next assignment, “get me the cure.”
“Four people have access. A team or a raid would be better suited.” You took a breath to answer him. This wasn’t possible, at least not easily. It wasn’t a job you wanted to take, and it wasn’t practical. Money wasn’t Black Mask’s pursuit, it should’ve been enough just to thwart his enemies, not profit from them.
“I don’t pay you to argue.”
You had to swallow the fear that crept up your throat. Fear of death was always within reach, that much was obvious when you took on mercenary work, but the fear Black Mask brought on was a little more primal. Something instinctual you had to ignore.
You couldn’t take this job. The both of you knew it would go over the hours you were signed for, anything that could arouse suspicion from your normal life was carved into stone as off limits. Tim couldn’t know, that was the rule. And this assignment could take you weeks, “…it breaches our contract.”
“I pay overtime. And let me remind you, you’re in no position to say otherwise.”Disagreeing twice was a hefty endeavor and the man was right, you had your brother to consider. It’s always funny, the way you think you have any say in things. “Get me the cure.”
You didn’t have time to pack up, leave a note, or meal prep dinner. It was burdensome to disappear, at least a little. But Tim would be okay; hurt, but okay. It’s not like he’d miss you terribly, he was working over-overtime as it was, and you hoped he would forgive you when you got back.
So you vanished. It was quiet work, mostly tailing people to get a lead, working to worm your way in to the right social circles, sorting through files while people slept.
Red Robin was looking for you, or at least investigating your activity. He’d have caught you a few times now if you weren’t more focused on working during the day. Not that he knew what was going on, that much was evident. Not that he would be able to do anything if he did run into you again anyway, that boy just kept losing. Or maybe he didn’t want to win.
It was hard to know what his objective was. Just that he thought you were bad news and made things harder than they needed to be. But he did intrigue you. Righteous Red Robin never fought dirty and it was a little flattering how he was insistently so hot on your trail. Maybe you’d tease him about it after this whole ordeal and he could throw another grappling hook at you.
It only took two weeks to gather enough standing in Penguin’s sphere to have access to his office. With all the snooping you’d done, you knew every possible password and key you’d need to access the files for Black Mask. If you broke in tonight, you’d be by daylight. Theoretically.
So you took to it. It wasn’t hard to break in once you knew where everything was. Nothing was terribly discreet, just about as hidden as valuables would be in someone’s home. Getting into the main computer was a breeze, you’d talked up enough patrons and underlings for them to spill every access code they knew. As you slipped in a USB to transfer the remaining files you needed, a familiar set of footsteps sounded behind you.
Brisk, decided, and determined to be quiet, you knew he was lurching forward with a right hook before you had the chance to turn around. You jerked your body out of the way before he could make contact, putting as much distance between the two of you as you could manage. Thankfully the file transfer already started before he rudely interrupted your heist, you just needed to buy time.
“Can we not do this today?” You couldn’t help the annoyance creeping under your skin; Red Robin’s timing couldn’t have been worse. If he’d shown up ten minutes later you would’ve been gone. Of all the times to barge in, he chose to when you were just about done.
But he was faster than he usually was, before your thoughts could finish flowing through your skull he was throwing something at you again; muttering a sharp, “shut up,” in tandem. A gasp left you as it grazed your cheek, he’d never drawn blood before, even so minutely.
Before you had a chance to react he was on you, swinging his staff with enough force to kill a man. It was all you could do to avoid it before the next swing came, overbearing and deadly, unlike you’d ever seen from him. Any ounce of annoyance left in you evaporated in favor of fear and adrenaline, he was angry.
“What is your problem? If this is about running you over, I knew you’d dodge it!” The knives you had tucked away in your boot straps were useless, you didn’t have time to reach for them and even if you had them there were no openings to intervene. With a stroke of luck, he hit the wall hard enough for his staff to get stuck, giving you enough time to make a run for the window. The files would have to wait.
Just as you were reaching to pull up on the windowsill, a batarang caught the fabric of your shoulder, pinning you to the wall. Another grazed your outreached hand, distancing you further from your escape route.
If you were scared of Black Mask, you were terrified of Red Robin. Or at least, this state of him. You’d never noticed before how the whites of his mask looked like headlights, barreling towards a sundered deer. With whatever cognition you had left, your uninjured hand reached for the dagger in your boot, but you were slow and he wasn’t feeling gracious. He grabbed your wrist with one hand, pinning it next to your shoulder, and with the other he jerked you forward by your collar.
A glimpse of metal hanging on your neck made his scowl deepen and you winced for whatever he would throw at you next. But instead of a punch or getting hit with a blunt object, you felt the release of pressure when he snapped the dainty silver chain from you.
“Where did you get this?” he barked. There was something off about the way he said it, untethered. The necklace in question wasn’t something controversial; a chain with a pendant Tim had inscribed with his initials next to yours.
It wasn’t particularly valuable, nothing anyone would steal, but it meant something untouchable to you. Exactly eight months into dating he told you he loved you for the first time and presented you with it. The letters were rough around the edges from mistakes in sanding and carving when he etched the metal for you himself. And now it was being dangled in front of you, a reminder of all you could stand to lose if things went wrong. So easily snatched from you, as if they never belonged in the first place.
“Give it back.” You moved to sweep your leg under his feet, kick him, whatever you could to get it back and get out. It wasn’t fair in the slightest, he should know it wasn’t something to steal. But he just tightened his grip on your wrist and kneed your ribs once hard enough for you to keel over and stop moving.
“Where did you get this?” His anger was building, you could hear, but you didn’t care much anymore. He didn’t have the right.
“It’s mine,” you spat through gritted teeth.
“Liar.” A pang of confusion hit you, as if this were something to lie about. He was in your face now, and you glared back behind your own mask. If he didn’t back off soon you had half a resolve to bite his nose off. “What did you do to the owner? This is your last chance.”
Like Red Robin could do anything to you. You felt like a dog backed into a corner, sure enough. But upper hand or not, no one wins in a fight against a rabid dog, even if you manage to put it down.
“And I’m telling you for the last time, it’s mine.” But if you get put down, you can’t crawl back. The courage behind your words was starting to sound like desperation. “My boyfriend gave it to me and you need to give it back.”
And then your resolve was gone altogether, a plea more than a demand, for absolution. Your voice quivered on the last few words, maybe it was for the better, it seemed like that was the only part he heard anyway.
The blood in your wrist started flowing again as he let go of it, looking at you with something akin to terror. Swallowing lead, you considered taking the chance to run; rip the sleeve that was caught and book it. But something held you there, vulnerability? Or some deviant of the terror he was feeling. Your legs wouldn’t move now.
He was slow in reaching for your mask. You must’ve been slower, because you didn’t stop him. You couldn’t do anything at all, not with the way your heart was pounding in your ears. Everything in you was screaming all at once, but you couldn’t understand a thing they were saying and it was getting hard to breathe.
You squinted to adjust your vision once the mask was off, and something wet slid down your cheek. Dust must’ve gotten under the thing, you weren’t one to cry.
“Y/N?” He’d caught you and you let it happen. You heard the chain clink on the floor, and you were so sorry to Tim that you let it happen. Soiled something he put time into. Maybe it was fitting, you always took that boy for granted.
You flinched when he reached for you, pressing your eyes shut. But Red Robin didn’t cuff you like you expected. Knock you out, threaten you, chain you to a street lamp outside for the police to collect. Instead you felt arms wrap around you, hefty and secure, a welcoming warmth in juxtaposition to the cold, stagnant office air. And you knew these arms, and you knew this feeling, and you knew this scent.
“Tim?” It came out like a squeak, you didn’t intend that.
And then his head was buried in your shoulder again, his spot as it’d always been. “I thought someone took you.”
He took the liberty of freeing you from the wall first, and you dropped to the floor. Your knees felt like jello. It made sense, some of it. The late nights and the injuries.
“Without a ransom note?” you murmured. You didn’t know what else to say. It’d been Tim the whole time.
“Don’t joke.” He knelt beside you, tucking a stray strand behind your ear. After the shock, the guilt came barreling in. You caused his injuries. You got in his way. You ran away without saying anything. You’d been hurting him the whole time.
“I’m sorry.” You squeaked for the second time. After the guilt was the confliction. You didn’t know to do. Half reaching for him, half shying away.
So Tim grabbed your hands, stilling you completely with just that. He pulled a strip of cloth out of his belt to wrap around the palm he cut moments before. It was shallow, nothing that would scar.
He was probably as confused as you were, quiet to sort out the events as they’d unfolded— and the before. There was a lot to ask and a lot to explain, you wouldn’t know where to start. And if you did start, you didn’t know if you could stop. It was too much. You were tired. There were time constraints. The first bit of reality slipped itself into your mind, the two of you weren’t the only two in the world and you were here on a job. “Please don’t ask, I’ll tell you when I have the heart but please don’t ask. I might cry. I’m sorry.”
“You’re already crying.” His thumbs brushed your tears away as if just to prove it. But they stayed after, running the pad of his fingers over your cheeks for as long as you’d let him. A soothing pattern.
“Am I? I’m sorry.” Your eyes were locked onto him, and you knew he was looking back even if his eyes weren’t visible. The longer you stared, the more the tears seemed to flow. And you couldn’t fathom why you were crying.
“For what?” He said it as if nothing were wrong, and that’s all it took for the dam to burst. Flinging your arms around him to cry your worth into his shoulders. You didn’t deserve this boy.
“I love you,” you sobbed.
“I love you more,” he answered.
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autisticfaun420 · 2 days ago
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My life with level 2 (part 1)
I'm making this post to share some things about my life and give an idea about what my support needs are
1. Every morning I wake up sealed in my cubby bed, an enclosed bed that keep me trapped inside so I dont wander and hurt myself or roll out and have a meltdown (common things that happen with me and regular beds). It's also soft so I don't potentially bang my head against something hard. you're probably wondering well how do I go to the bathroom at night. That brings me to my next point.
2. Every morning after opening up my cubby bed either my mom, dad, caregiver, or occasional close friend takes me to my changing station in my room and begins to change my diaper. Thats right I was NEVER able to potty train and due to EXTREME sensory issues I am unable to change myself. This means I need constant super vision as I always need someone to change me, also calm me down if meltdown, etc. I simply have no way to tell I need to go, 1 or 2, till its much too late. So yeah diapers are an all day thing not just at night.
3. I'm older then 20 and my parents are l now my legal guardians for life, and if they can't do it I have friends that will step up. I'm not sure exactly what this means legally but I take it to mean Im basically still a kid to them on like, every level. They respect my intelligence but they still set the rules. One that always kind of gets people mad but then they understand is the fact that I have child safety internet settings on my tablet and phone, I can't access most social media websites and I'm not alliowed YouTube only YouTube Kids. This is because my parents and close friends agree that these teenage boys from a nearby town were trying to make me an "lol cow", basicallly a target for online harassment and bullying and trolling me because I was special needs and active on social media. Tumblr with my parents having the username and password and log ins and they check it every day is all I get. My friends and parents show me things from TikTok and Youtube that they think i'll like so I don't miss out. Oh yeah and I would binge watch horror and terror content on youtube, something that a lot of autistic people do apparently, however I mentally can't handle it. I wake up and freak out and hit myself all night and lose sleep for a week and end up in a mental hospital cause I'm hurting myself and not sleeping. Not fun... at all. I had unrestricted internet access as a teenager and I'm glad that part of my life is over. My parents do however let me eat cannabis edibles every day so its not like they're over protective, just protective in the way I need.
4. My parents are my emotional coregulators and I rely on them heavily, a lot of the time just to know how I'm feeling. I break down emotionally frequently and if my parents or a select few of my friends aren't there to cuddle me and rub my back the right way, I FREAK out and start hitting myself cause my brain is a bit nutty I guess. I'm needy with those I love to a rediculous degree. I'm a lot better, still not great, at self soothing. Self soothing is an oxymoron for me. I kinda need to be with somebody to be told to calm down, encouraged to come out my shell, praised when I do something good, and just having a hand to hold. My mom is rubbing my back encouraging me to write this out like I said I wanted to do.
5. I need to stim, constantly. I'm always rocking, fidget toy and plushie in hand chewing on my chewing laynyard, you get the idea. I also need audio and visual stims which I get in the form of watching bright colorful little kid shows on my tablet like Blues Clues and Daniel Tiger. I think this is why people don't think I'm smart but its just who I am and what my needs are.
I think this is a good starting point, I'll make a part 2 later.
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hurlumerlu · 1 day ago
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Thicker than
A short THK fic (AO3)
"I’ll explain later," said Kant, something Babe knew to translate by I’ll wait for you to forget about it. He didn’t see how he would, this time. "For now, just tell me you understood."
"I understood."
"So if Bison asks if you’re alright?"
"I say I managed to hide, and you found me before the bullies did."
"Good. Now tell it to me in different words."
"You know this isn’t my first lie, right? You don’t have to coach me through it."
"Humor me."
"I outran them and hid before you arrived."
"Good." Kant repeated. He wasn’t slowing down and it put Babe on edge: his brother never rushed, or more accurately never let it show when he did. Everything had been off since he’d asked for that phone call.
"What if I don’t play along?" That stopped Kant. When he turned, Babe almost took a step back. "I was only jo–"
"I’m sorry," Kant interrupted, "and it’s the last time I ask you something like this. But promise me you’ll lie."
"Yeah, okay. I’m not, like, allergic or any–"
"Promise me, Babe."
"I promise. You’ll explain later?"
"Sure. Come on, he must be there already."
The night got even weirder after that.
"Here’s what I still don’t get, though" said Babe. "You like him."
Kant sighed. "This ain’t really about me." A serious contender for Most Kant Answer Ever, though Babe hadn’t heard it in a while.
He set the dry plate on top of the others. "I think he likes you too."
"Believe it or not" – Kant was scrubbing a little too energetically. Babe had painted that glass when he was eight and, ugly as it was, his brother always washed it with the utmost care – "it ain’t really about him either."
That was a new one. Babe took the glass from Kant’s hand and rinsed it himself. "Who is it about, then?" Wet spoons were handed out to him without so much as a look. He hadn't even finished drying the glass. "Is this when you tell me that whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it for us?"
"You told me to stop saying that."
Babe remembered that argument. Of course, what he’d actually wanted was for his brother to stop thinking that way, but he’d thought that had been clear. Maybe it had been. He should still have been clearer.
"Are we not going to talk about the gun at all?"
"He’s had a rough life, you know." Kant replied in his worst parent-teacher meeting voice. "He just needs to unlearn a few things."
Babe gave up.
don’t wait 4 me tonite, said the text. leftovers in the fridge. If u want 2 invite Knot cool but no alcohol
Bison again? Babe texted back. He might not get an answer, but that wasn’t a reason not to try.
Well. A victory sign emoji was an answer, he supposed.
Where are you going?
😎.
Typical. Babe had read the work of some master wordsmiths, but he would never not be impressed by his brother’s ability to convey Mind your business without a word.
Have fun, then. If that’s indeed the goal.
In a true feat of human communication, the next 😎 he received felt even more pointed.
"Ah," said Kant. "You’re here."
"Sorry." Babe blinked against the flood of light. "Gave my bed to Knot. I didn’t think you’d come home tonight." Kant’s sheets didn’t smell like him – he had changed them this morning – but there was an undeniable comfort to sleeping in his room. And it was miles better than laying awake next to Knot, wondering what amount of incidental contact you could get away with before you fell into creep territory. "You had a good time?"
"Hm."
Kant hadn’t moved, fingers still on the lightswitch. He was, technically, looking at Babe. It didn’t feel like he was looking at anything at all.
Babe got up, feet against the cool floor. "Kant?" But he couldn’t ask are you okay: Kant always replied yes. "Is Bison alright?"
When he got pulled into a hug, Babe didn’t resist. He had so many questions, the list ever growing, yet with his brother clinging to him like this – like he hadn’t done in years, like it would be the last time, like a drowning man struggling to stay afloat – he knew he wouldn’t voice any of them.
He closed his eyes, inhaled, and clung back.
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sdmnpact · 1 day ago
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"You Deserve Better"
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Wroetoshaw x Reader fluff
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I watched in content as my boyfriend of four years finished recording a video with his friends. He loves making videos with his friends. Sometimes he get's busy with whatever video they're filming that week but he tries to make time for me. He walked over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist sharing his warmth on this cold winter day. They were filming a video outside so the temperature was freezing cold. "Did I take too long princess?" He asked kissing my temple. "Of course not." I said trying to hide the fact that I was shivering even with 50 layers of clothes on.
He looked at me with sadness in his eyes. "Sorry I forced you to come down here, you've could've been home under a warm blanket with tea or something instead." He said letting me go leaving me missing his warm embrace. He walked over and went to grab his backpack then came back towards me grabbing my hand leading me towards the car. He seemed upset and I didn't want to say anything until we got into the car. He opened the door for me and I got in without saying a word. He put his bag in the boot then got into the drivers seat.
He doesn't like to drive but does whenever I'm with him because he wants to spend as much alone time together as we can. "Harry, are you okay?" I asked putting a hand on his leg as he began driving. He didn't speak but kept focused on the road. I don't know what happened, we were fine a few minutes ago but now he's upset. Maybe I said something to upset him?
We finally arrived to his flat and he, of course, opened the door for me then we made our way up. He unlocked the door and we walked in, still in this strange silence. I walked in and sat on the couch immediately covering myself in a blanket trying to get warm quickly. Harry went into his room to put his stuff away but when he came back out and saw me, he let out a big sigh.
He plopped down next to me and grabbed the remote. "Harry!" I semi-shouted. He slightly flinched at the loud noise that was my voice in this silence room. "What happened?" I asked finally fed up with his behavior. "Listen y/n, it's nothing-" "NO, clearly something is wrong!" I said making sure that he knew I was serious. This is so unlike him. Usually he is the sweetest, goofiest boy I know.
He grabbed my waist and sat me in his lap. He squeezed me slightly and then looked into my eyes. "I'm so sorry..." He trailed off. "For what?"
"I'm sorry I'm not a good boyfriend. I'm always so busy, I never have time for you. We barely spend time together and when we do, I make you come to a shoot where you're just suffering. You deserve better."
My heart broke a bit with those last words.
"Are you insane?" I asked making him form a confused look. "You are the best boyfriend in the entire world! You treat me like a queen. Sure you're busy but that's understandable. I don't suffer, I am so happy seeing you so content and in your element when you're filming. I would stand in the freezing cold for hours if it meant that I could see you do what makes you happy." I said wrapping my arms around his neck bringing us closer.
"I know but it could be better. I shouldn't let these things consume my entire life."
"Yes, but we both get busy, it's just how things go." I said trying to reassure him.
"I just wanna spend all my time with you. I love you so much." He said hugging me harder.
"I love you too.. we will figure this out, I promise." I said finally giving him a soft kiss on his lips. He nodded and kissed me again. His soft warm lips immediately warming me up. We stayed cuddling for the next hour until sleep finally took over. We stayed in each other's embrace needing nothing but each other to keep warm.
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elliebean714 · 2 days ago
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Don’t know if you still doing tumblr but just in case. How about
The until dawn character’s find their lover (reader) crying because R told them they had a nightmare that they lost them to the Wendigos
Absolutely, I'd love to!💕 more character reactions plz! I love doing themm💖 haven't played the remake, I know theres a way for josh to survive now, but I don't know the details, so if this is inaccurate to that sorryyyy. love you Joshuaaaa. Also a new sam ending? But i dont know what makes it do special yet so, ya, nothing new in this lol. MORE SAM, ASH, EM, MIKE, AND JESS REQS PLZZZZ I LOVE WRITING THEM BUT I NEED PEOPLE WHO LOVE THEM TO GIVE IDEAS RRAAAAHHHHHH. (Ofc my boys joshhhhh, Chris and matt are always welcome, but I've written a good amount for them, not much for the others) small tw for panic attacks in Sam and Matt's. If i had to have a panic attack in front of any until dawn characters, they would be the only correct answers lmao.
Until Dawn Character Reactions
GN!Reader had nightmares about losing them
Angst With LOTS of Comfort, exactly what you'd expect lol
Josh Washington
It's nearly 3:00 am when you wake up, shaking and crying.
You look to see him in bed next to you, he's taken to staying over much more frequently since that night, your presence is one of the few things capable of getting him comfortable enough to sleep.
Josh wakes up soon after you've curled yourself into him, your arms wrapping loosely around his chest and his shoulder.
"Hey," he rubs your back gently "Hey, I'm here..." sitting up properly, he rubs his sleepy eyes before pulling you into his lap "take your time. Tell me what's wrong when you're ready"
You cry silently for a few minutes all while Josh holds you and kisses your head
Eventually, you speak up in a shaky voice "I had that stupid nightmare again. That one with you..." you trail off, taking a deep breath, his smell comforting you
"Y/N..." Josh's hold tightens subconsciously "I'm sorry." His voice drops to a whisper "I'm so sorry..."
When you feel him start to sob silently, you bring your face up to his, your fingers caress his cheeks
"No, no, no, no, shhh..." you kiss his forehead "I'm not mad at you, babe! Don't think that at all."
"You wouldn't be so hurt if I didn-" Josh starts
You interrupt him with a kiss "Shut up, you didn't know. You made a mistake, yeah, but you had no idea those monsters were up there." You pause, letting him calm down a bit before continuing "i get those nightmares about losing you because I love you. When that thing almost killed you- fuck... I've never been that scared in my life. I'm not going to ever get that image out of my head..."
He kisses your temple and plays with your hair while you speak. Once you finish, he speaks up "I have bad dreams too. Of you being in the lodge when it blew up. Or the monster taking your head off, or..." He sighs, cradling you "so many things, but we're okay. We made it out. It's going to get better eventually. We'll get through it together, baby."
Josh holds you for a few more minutes, until you've calmed down fully. He lays back down, and pulls you on top of him. You wrap your arms around each other, and soon after, you both fall into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
Sam Giddings
It was a normal date night at first
Ice cream and tea, then a nice walk through the park. Everything was perfect.
Your parents let her stay over, as they usually do. They absolutely adore her, and they see how much she brightens you up when she's around. And you seem to not have panic attacks as often anymore
But you still get them
Like tonight. You're watching some old show, cuddling under the covers when you drift off to sleep
It's only for a few minutes, maybe 15 at most, but stuck in the agony of your head, it feels like hours.
She's being chased by josh the psycho, she's trapped in the mine, she's still hiding with the Wendigo screaming at her in the lodge- she's being caught and dragged to god knows here, she's slowly losing her mind and starving, she's being massacred- nonononononononotsam pleasenotsam nonononononono-
"Hey, Y/N..." you feel her gently shaking your shoulder "Wake up, it's just a nightmare, I'm right here" her voice is soothing, assuring, but it does little to prevent the inevitable
Your head feels fuzzy, your heart is pounding, fuck- fuck- you sit up, "No- no, I cant- I can't breathe-" you clutch your shirt just above your heart in an attempt to anchor you to reality "sam- Sam, where are you?"
She puts her hands on your upper arms and hugs you from the side "I'm still here. You're okay, baby. You're going to be okay."
"I cant- sam- help me, please-"
"Okay, let's try counting to 10." She starts counting slowly and clearly, giving you something to focus on, her beautiful voice. After a few counts, you join in, it takes a while, but your breathing does eventually level out.
"Sorry- sorry that's so embarrassing" you let out an uneven breath as Sam shakes her head
"Shush, there's nothing embarrassing about it. Absolutely nothing." She kisses your temple "was it the regular nightmares again?"
"No, no, they were about you this time."
Sam lets you lay your head on her shoulder while she rubs your back "oh, honey..."
A comfortable silence falls between the two of you before she speaks up "I wish I could make them all stop. I wish there was some magical thing I could say and we'd be back to who we were before, but..." She sighs "I'm not going anywhere. I can't fix everything, but I won't leave you, Y/N. Someday all these horrible things will just be distant memories, I swear. I love you"
You kiss her, a small hint of a smile on your face "I love you too" then you both return to watching the show. It was a really good date night.
Chris Hartley
You'd taken to staying up late and studying together since you got into the same college, and by some miracle, the same dorm
Chris is typing away on his laptop while you're trying to memorise a paragraph from a textbook you've read a hundred times.
Fuck this is so boring- you rub your eyes, what time is it?? You yawn and check your phone: almost midnight
As if reading your mind, Chris stretches and yawns "God damn, its late, and I've gotta get this done tonight." He stands up "I'm going to grab some coffee, want some?"
"Be right back." He says after you nod, rubbing your weary eyes
After he's gone, you lie back on the bed, it'd be so good to sleep right now... maybe just for a couple minutes... you'll be up before he's back...
Then you hear a screech
You see a snowy night
You're stuck behind a door- this door
A huge explosion, or something similar starts the scene, Chris sprinting towards the door with a limp and the Wendigo is hot on his heels
Your hand is immediately on the handle, ready to pull it open, but when you try, it's locked... NO! You pull it again, c'mon, c'mon, OPEN-
"Y/N, help!" Chris pounds in the door "please- it's coming, help!" He looks over his shoulder at the monster as you attempt to open it, becoming more and more frantic "pleas-"
Four long, sharp fingers pierce his neck and pull his head off
"NO!" You wake up, shivering and in tears. Sitting up quickly, you see that Chris hasn't returned
Shit... you grab a tissue from the box on the bedside table to wipe your face. It's been a long since you had a nightmare... must be the lack of sleep
Chris comes back into the dorm while you're crying. "Hey, woah, what happened?" He puts the coffees on the desk then hurries over to check on you.
His thumb grazes over your cheek as he tries to get you to look at him "baby, what happened?"
"Nothing, nothing, I just..." you shake your head "I think I fell asleep for a minute." You sigh, taking a deep breath "and I had a nightmare, or something."
"Aw, jeez, I'm sorry" He guides you into a hug "Wanna tell me about it?
While you explain what you saw, he rubs your back and plays with your hair, you sigh, "It really freaked me out."
"Yeah, that uh... really messed me up too." Chris pauses "I didn't realise how much that scared you"
"Neither did i. I've been trying to forget, but..." you trail off, trying to think of a reason
"You're probably sleep deprived, we've been studying super hard since we got here," Chris scoffs "and I can't remember the last good night's sleep either of us had."
"So you think i should sleep through it?" You lift your head to look at him properly
He nods "it probably won't happen again tonight. And if it does, I'll be here to help you."
You shake your head "I need to study, I have a test soon and-" he laughs at you "what??"
"You and I both know you're just staring at the same point of the page for hours, there's no reason for you to stay awake. Just head to bed, ill finish my homework as soon as I can, then join you."
You try to protest, but what's the point? Reading that paragraph for another hour won't make it any clearer. Sleep might.
Chris takes your stuff off the bed and you crawl under the covers, it only takes a few minutes after Chris gives you a good night kiss to fall asleep. It's the best night's sleep you've had in ages. Finally things start making sense in class! Maybe this is why people talk about healthy sleep schedules all the time...
Ashley Brown
She likes to read you to sleep.
It's nice to share her love of reading and stories with you, and it's good practice for speaking aloud in a safe, loving environment
But it's mostly the way you snuggle up to her, hugging her loosely, and burying your face in the crook of her neck, your weight is her favourite security blanket.
Her fingers gently play with your hair as she reads, she's certain you're asleep by now, so she's just reading to herself, when she feels you stir
"N-no, ash- please-" you whimper
"Shh, shh, its alright, honey..." Ashley hums a gentle tune to soothe you, but it doesn't work, you continue to mumble and whimper
It only gets worse
She feels you burry yourself more into her neck, your breathing quicken and a few tears spill
"Aw, babe..." Ashley quickly marks the page and puts the book down, before fully paying attention to you "it's alright... its okay." She fiddles with your stray hairs and kisses your temple
A few moments pass "Ashley... no- no- not Ashley-" you sob helplessly in her arms while she continues to try to shush and calm you, becoming more desperate, until you finally wake up in a state of shock
You sit up, trying to give her space "sorry, I didn't..." you trail off
"Shh, c'mere, I miss you" Ashley pulls you back down on top of her "was it that nightmare? You seemed really distressed."
Your eyes flutter closed for a moment when her hands return to your hair. "Mhm... that one- in the tunnel. If I didn't go back for you..."
"Yeah, you totally saved my life." She comments, lifting your face a little so uou can see the deep appreciation in her eyes
"But- if I didnt- if I was late- Ashley..." tears prick at the corner of your eyes again "I don't know if I could live without you. I need you."
She kisses your nose "You're adorable. And I don't know what I did to deserve you, and I can't believe how lucky we both got! I mean how many times did we think we were going to die, but didn't?"
"Ash- I just saw it happen- I keep seeing it in different ways, the saw, the gun, the tunnel, the lodge- it feels like every time I close my eyes I'm watching you suffer, I can still hear you screaming sometimes when I'm alone- I just want it to stop- I want to be normal."
"I'm sorry, beautiful. I'm so sorry." She rubs your back "I think this is our normal. Being terrified of the dark, and being alone, and rounding corners, and silence. Being haunted by the things we saw, and what we didn't see. Feeling guilty, and angry, and depressed and anxious, and different. That's normal now. It's impossible to live with alone, but we're together. We have each other as constant reminders what we have, and what we lost. I don't know if it'll ever get better, but there's nobody I'd rather support and be supported by than you."
Ashley takes a deep breath, clearly unused to speaking that long. You smile "seems like the reading aloud has helped a bit"
She blushes, kisses you on the cheek and picks up the book again "Shush, dork." It takes you a minute to get comfortable, they might not ever go away, but waking up in her arms, on her couch all snuggled up is the coziest thing you can imagine. Your life is more livable, because she is in it.
Matt Taylor
The movie theatre was packed
It was the release night of some big action movie everyone had supposedly been waiting years for
He was significantly more excited for the movie, you just loved spending time with him
You and Matt sat along the isle, next to the stairs. It was dark, and cold, so you snuggled up into his side
A little over an hour into the movie, you doze off. You know you shouldn't, but it's so warm and comfy, and his heartbeat was such a soothing pulse, how could you resist?
It was a light sleep, you could still hear parts of the movie, like the screaming, the crashing, explosions... Matt-
Nononono-Getoffhim! Lethimgo- please-matt-nononononono-
The thing is dragging him along the mine shaft while he desperately looks for something- the flare gun Emily kept to herself- shit
You try to scream, try to move, but you're completely paralysed. Nonononono- fuck- stop- matt- nononononono- yourehurtinghim- please
A final scream leaves him, then you hear him start to choke on his own blood- MATTNONONONONONOSOMEBODYHELPHIM- you feel tears start to stream down your face
A huge explosion in the movie wakes you- itssodark- itssoloud- itssocrowded- shit- gottagetout-
You jump from your seat, sprint down the stairs and out the theatre.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-
People are staring- fuck-
There's nowhere to sit, nowhere to hide- fuck- you collapse against the wall
Stopstopstopstop- your heart beats way too fast, so fast you begin to think you're having a heart attack. You curl your legs into your chest and hide your face
Please stop staring...
You hyperventilate, you tap on the floor, you shake, shit- am I dying?
"Y/N! Oh my god, you scared me, honey." Matts voice cuts through the static
He places a hand on your shoulder and pulls it away immediately when you jump at the sudden touch "can you please get them some water?" You hear him ask some passer-by. Please stop staring.
You continue to shake "Matt- matt I think I'm dying- help me-" you lift your head, god- the world feels like its spinning- to look at him the best you can "I'm scared"
"I know, it's gonna be okay- thank you," he hands you the cold bottle of water the person just brought over "can you drink? Or are you breathing too hard? You could use it to cool yourself down...?"
Matt is so scared right now, this is the first time this has ever happened, at least in front of him. He has absolutely no idea what to do, or how to calm you down. "Could you- uh- do you- shit- I'm making this worse aren't I?"
You nod a little, making him laugh "s-sorry, c-can you breathe? Like," he imitates deep and relaxed breathing "can you try to do that?" You try to, you really try, but it's so hard to focus on your breath when it feels like your heart is going to collapse in on itself
"Hey, it's alright, can I touch you?" He waits until you give him permission to sit beside you and start rubbing your back "tell me what you need, what can I do?"
"Umm- umm-" your foot jitters against the floor "just- is anybody staring at me?"
Matt looks around for a few seconds "N-no, no, I don't think so. Hey, there's a seat over there, can you move?"
He helps you stand and shakily walk to the seat, your legs are so fragile they can barely hold your weight. "M'sorry- shit, I'm so sorry-"
Matt seems surprised by your sudden apology "Woah, babe, no! No, it's completely fine, just try to drink some water an-"
You shake your head "No, Matt, the movie, I ruined your night, I'm so sorry" you tear up, the guilt eating at you
"What the? Y/N, you didn't do anything wrong. You just- I don't know, but it's not your fault. Okay? And even if it was, it's a dumb movie, I'll live. I can see it again. You matter more." He rubs your back again
You take a slow sip of water "I- I fell asleep for a little bit. I... fuck- I saw that fucking thing..."
"What? What do you mean, what did you see, babe?" His hand finds your cheek, and his thumb brushes away some tears
"The- whatever that fucking thing on the mountain was." You answer, someone must've told you what it was at some point, but you can't remember in your state "I've been trying to forget- I don't know why I started freaking out, it just-" you take a deep breath "just came out of nowhere"
"I'm sorry I'm so bad at taking care of you," he laughs, trying to lightens the mood a little "I'll, uh, definitely look up how to calm you down in case that happens again"
"Thanks, babe" you scoff, leaning down to lay your head on his shoulder
After a couple minutes, he asks "Wanna go back home or get some ice cream?"
Emily Davis
No-one would say Emily was a particularly loving or affectionate person, but if you were a good partner she'd be sure to treat you very well. Spoil you even.
She wanted to reward you for being such a good S/O, so she's treating you a nice romantic getaway
A whole weekend! Staying in a fancy hotel, getting spa treatments, going shopping, expensive restaurants!!
Its perfect, so perfect it almost makes you forget the other weekend getaway..
Until you're both sound asleep... and that screech, that screech thats haunted you for months, starts another nightmare, the mine. Its always the fucking mine
You're both sprinting as fast as you can-
Stmbling over yourselves-
It's dark, confusing, shit- shit- how do you get out?!
Emily screams next to you, you turn to see the Wendigo has a hold on her- NO!
It sticks its giant sharp fingers into her eyes and-
You're suddenly back in your hotel room- okay- okay- okay- you take deep breaths to steady yourself...
The sound of her gentle breaths anchor you
It's okay, you're fine, she's fine, you're safe.
You left the bed to grab some water, but almost like she could feel your absence, Emily stirs from her sleep "Ugh, why are you up?" She yawns, rubbing her eyes
"I just had a bad dream, I'm fine" you sip the water and admire how adorable she is. "You're gorgeous"
"Mmh, I know." She hums, pleased "what kind of bad dream, babe?"
You shrug and take another sip of water "the mine one again."
Emily slowly get out of bed to sit beside you at the table "Me or you?"
"You. But it was over quickly. I think I'm starting to get used to them. Is that bad?"
She thinks for a moment, still waking up a little "No? I don't think so. They don't seem to freak you out as much anymore, which is good. Not a fan of you being used to watching me die though."
You scoff and sip more water "that's not what I meant, Cutie."
Emily rolls her eyes "I know, I know" she picks up your hand "I am glad you're getting better though."
"Awe, you're such a softie." You tap her nose, she looks away bashfully
"Whatever. Don't mention it to anyone or I'll kill you."
You giggle at her and kiss her cheek "Oh, I can keep secrets. You know that"
"Good pet." Emily gives you a head pat "now let's go back to bed. It's 2 in the morning"
She leads you over to the bed "do you want to be little spoon or big?
Mike Munroe
You're in the sanatorium with Mike guiding you and the Wendigos chasing right behind
He's shooting aimlessly to give you both more room, until you reach a locked door- shit
They're closing in- one grabs your arm, you scream- "MIKE!!"
In a moment he's pulled you out of its hold, but it takes him instead
"No!" You cry, the Wendigo slashes his neck and chest "Mike-" the life leaves his eyes as he bleeds out
The other Wendigo jumps on you and starts mauling yo-
You wake up in tears, shaking- "Mike..." you whimper, quickly picking up your phone to call him, after a few tries he finally picks up
"Y/N? You alright? It's 4 in the morning" His voice is groggy, husky.
"I had a nightmare- can you come here please?" You beg through tears.
"Come to your room in the middle of the night? Your dad will kill me." He jokes
"I'm serious, Mike. I need you" You implore
Hearing your desperate plea gives him pause "Okay, I'll head over then. Are you gonna be okay?"
"Mhm" you nod "ill open my window for you."
Twenty minutes later, you hear him climbing up to your window "Hi, gorgeous." He flashes his charming smile as soon as he sees you through the open window
"Hi..." you help him climb inside and wrap your arms around him once he's standing upright
"What happened, babe?" His hand goes straight to your back, rubbing in soothing circles.
"Remember when we were in the sanatorium?" You sniffle, still crying gently. "I just- had a nightmare about it. I saw you die- and- and then they went after me- it was so horrible."
"Oh, honey..." He guides you to the bed then starts petting your hair with his free hand "it's alright, I'm here. I won't let them get you" You can hear that smile in his voice
You roll your eyes "yeah, I know. In my dream you died protecting me."
"Sounds about right." He drops his cocky demeanour for a moment "I mean it, though." He gently pulls your face out of his chest so you can meet his gaze "I won't let anything get you. I'll always be here for you. I'll always protect you, Y/N. I love you."
"I love you too, Mike..." He brings you in closer for a kiss.
You guys lie in the bed and snuggle, and eventually fall asleep until-
The jingle of your alarm goes off, 7:30am. You wake up in Mike's arms, warm and cozy, you stay like that for a few more seconds before hearing your dad's footsteps down the hallway makes you fully alert
Shit- "Mike!!" You whisper, shoving him in an attempt to wake him "Mike you gotta get up, you gotta go!"
"Mmh- what? Oh, hi, beautiful..." He didn't properly hear you, he just sees the gorgeous person he's in bed with
"Mike! My dad's up, you gotta go, dummy!"
"Oh- Shit!" He quietly exclaims then jumps out of bed and hurries to the window.
"Wait-" he runs over to kiss you, "see you soon, gorgeous." Before sneaking out of your room
Jess Riley
Sleepoverrrr!!!!!
Omg you guys had the BEST night.
Junk food, old cheesy romcoms, prank calls, painting nails, cute shit like that
Pretty juvenile, but it made Jess happy so you absolutely were not complaining
You'd basically devoted yourself to making her happy after that night.
She was so scared, so traumatised and hurt, that you tried to shut out your own feelings in order to prioritise her, and it was working... until tonight.
Jess fell asleep in your arms around half way through the 4th or 5th movie of the night and you decided to turn it off and join her. It wasn't long until you were fast asleep and it all come flooding back...
You were stuck in the mines again, looking desperately for jess- jeez, you remembered spending hours down there searching for her, encountering the monster several times, almost dying in a million different ways
And it just kept getting worse, you finally found her- oh god- look at her- your heart breaks all over again, she was absolutely brutalised, covered head to toe in slashes, barely able to stand, barely able to talk, oh, baby...
You took her hand and guided her out of the mine, but that screech- that fucking screech- you froze, no- no- MOVE! You can't stay here, you gottamove-
The creature appears, MOVE, Y/N! MOVE, it jumps on Jess, you scream, "NO! Please- No-"
It lodges its fingers into her throat at rips her jaw off-
"NO-" you jolt upright, fuck- you take deep breaths- nonono- you look beside you, Jess is roused from her sleep next to you.
"Y/N...?" She mumbles
"Shh, Shh, I'm fine. Don't worry about me, go back to sleep, sweetheart." You pet her head gently, fingers grazing the scar
"What happened? You were yelling..." Jess sits up slowly, leaning against you
"I just got a bit of a scare in my sleep. I'm okay, you can go back to bed"
"Y/N..." She whines a little "Please tell me what happened. You never talk about anything."
Youd love to open up, but you need to be strong, she needs someone strong "Jess, I'm alright, I swear-"
"Please, I don't like when you're scared."
"I just- I had a bad dream, but I'm okay, you are what matters,"
"You matter too,"
You shake your head "babe, that night..." your fingers trail over her scars "you were so hurt, you need a strong partner"
"Honey, that's not-"
"Jess, you need someone who won't break down whenever they remember what happened to you. You need someone who- who isn't weak- you need someone who isn't scared, you don't need my problems" you say, desperately trying to not cry
"Y/N..." She takes your hand "I don't want a robot, I want you"
"You need someone to be strong, you're hurting so much, you shouldn't have to deal with my sad shit"
"Shut up, dork!" She cradles your face in her hands "I adore you! I want you to open up to me. I- I want you to relate to me. I already feel so alone, I don't need you hiding a huge part of your feelings from me. I need you, I need you to show me you're hurting too, I need you to show me in not alone."
You felt enormous guilt at her pleading and pulled her into a hug, "ill- ill tell you everything. I promise, I don't ever want you to feel like that. I'm so sorry Jessie. I love you."
"I love you too, cutie."
♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆
~Elliebean714
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