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zorobff · 8 months

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how to disappear. (opla!zoro x fem!reader)

synopsis: joining luffy’s crew made you believe that you’d finally escaped your former pirate crew and nightmare of a captain for good. that is, until a certain butler starts looking a little too familiar. good thing zoro’s keeping a close eye on you.

warnings: opla spoilers (ep 3), some direct dialogue from opla, mentions of verbal/physical abuse, kuro is just a weirdo tbh, reader is called a bitch, protective zoro, for the sake of the story sham and buchie joined the black cat pirates after reader left

word count: 4.7k

“this guy is full of shit.”

you knock your shoulder into zoro’s wider one. “be nice. and so what if he is?”

zoro gives you a pointed glare. “then we should turn around and look for someone who can actually help us find a ship.”

“all business, as per usual,” you reply, with a purposefully dramatic sigh. “why can’t you have a little fun?”

“what about this is supposed to be fun?” zoro spits out the word like it’s poisonous. “this is the blandest village i’ve ever seen.”

you scoff. “now you’re the one that’s full of shit. nothing’s ever bland with us and you know it.”

the us in question was your newly formed pirate crew… if you and luffy could even be considered that. having left the ship you’d been on a few years ago, you were in search of a new crew. luffy was persistent and charming — when you’d crossed paths in shells town, it took little to no time for him to convince you to join his hunt for the one piece. zoro and nami, on the other hand, had yet to follow in your footsteps.

“well, considering that we’ve only been traveling together for a day and a half and i’ve already escaped a marine base, defeated a marine captain, and fought a clown with devil fruit powers… i’d actually have to agree.”

you can’t help but giggle at his sarcastic delivery. “be grateful, zoro. not many pirate crews are this fun to be on, trust me. oh wait, that’s right, you still haven’t officially joined—”

“tell me about your old pirate crew,” interjects zoro, your comment having piqued his interest.

you notice that the playful atmosphere dissipates. “god, where do i even start?”

zoro answers that for you. “why did you leave?”

“starting with the hard hitting questions, huh?” you joke, mostly to stall. you clear your throat before you answer. “well, it was different. nothing like what luffy has going on. he actually cares about his crew… and even those who aren’t technically on it.”

at that, a smile tugs at the corner of zoro’s lips. even you crack a small grin. although as you continue speaking, it fades.

“on my old crew, we were dispensable. anytime something went wrong, our own captain would threaten to kill us. it was… scary, to be completely honest. there were so many times when i thought i’d die with that filthy crew. and i never wanted that. so as soon as we docked at shells town, i left.”

zoro’s jaw clenches as imagines the things you’d seen and been subjected to. “this old captain of yours sounds like a real—”

“he was a nightmare,” you tell him. “he didn’t care that i was the only woman on board, he treated me just as horribly, if not worse.”

zoro stops so suddenly that it takes you a second to realize he’s not walking alongside you.

“what do you mean by that.” the way zoro phrases the inquiry doesn’t even make it sound like a question. more like a demand. his narrowed eyes are fixed solely on you. holding his gaze feels… intense.

you can’t help but glance away as you answer him. “he was just a bit of a creep.”

before zoro has the chance to try and extract more information out of you, a familiar voice calls both your names. you’re not really sure when you and zoro had fallen behind but from where you currently stand, the rest of your group looks miniature. or perhaps it’s just the massive size of the mansion behind them that makes luffy, nami, and usopp look pocket-sized in comparison.

“why’d you stop walking?!” your captain shouts, hands pressed on each side of his mouth to amplify his voice. “get over here, we’re about to go in through the top secret entrance!”

you vaguely make out usopp gesturing for luffy to keep his voice down. you’re sure that would warrant another comment from zoro about his reliability but he’s too busy staring at you with that expectant look in his eyes.

“we better catch up,” you tell him, heading in the direction of the deluxe home.

he allows you to dodge the subject and sighs, walking in long strides to catch up to you.

“i’ve never seen a house this big before,” luffy admits, admiring the mansion along with the wellkept greenery surrounding it.

“awesome, right?” usopp gloats, walking around like he owned the place. “kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime i want.”

“wow.” you’re not sure if luffy was just going along with usopp’s act or if he really believed him. knowing the devil fruit user, it was more than likely the latter. “all this for just one person?”

“well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff,” usopp replies, leaning against the stone well that sat in the middle of the lawn.

“money really shows you who people truly are,” nami mutters, eyes scanning the property. “most people only care about themselves and what’s theirs.”

zoro is quick to throw the insult back at her. “sounds like someone i know.”

you roll your eyes at his comment, though you make no effort to disagree with him. nami was a little on the materialistic side.

“and a small staff makes for easy pickings,” she continues, proving your point.

“we just got here and you’re already planning on robbing the place blind?” you ask though you already know the answer.

“at least a little blurry,” she smirks, following behind luffy and usopp who walk toward the entrance.

you and zoro share a look. one that says disappointed but not surprised.

going under a shrub shaped as an arch, you’re met with a beautiful pond. you admire the pink lilies that float at the top and the bushes that were intricately trimmed into the shape of various animals. even if the people that lived here were filthy rich, at least they had good decorative taste.

“so if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?” luffy ponders.

usopp’s answer is nonchalant. “oh, i never use the front entrance. like i said, this is the vip entrance reserved for special guests.”

zoro scoffs. “this guy’s definitely–”

“don’t start,” you groan, cutting him off.

abruptly, usopp freezes and spins around, attempting to usher your crew back. “you know what, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way–”

the sharp swoosh of a knife cutting through the air and burying itself in the ground between usopp’s feet cuts him off. from the direction the kitchen utensil was thrown stands a heavyset gentleman with his face wrinkled in anger. his demanding voice booms through the garden, “the hell are you doing here, usopp?”

the dark-skinned boy fumbles over his word. “buchi, buddy, uh, kaya’s expecting me.”

“another one of your lies,” the man – seemingly named buchi – seethes, grabbing him by the collar. “you ain’t welcome here and you know it.”

“i know nothing of the sort,” usopp retorts, keeping his cool even when he was practically being lifted off the ground by his shirt. “i’m here to give kaya an extra special gift.”

before buchi can get another word out, a feminine voice calls out for your companion. coming down the steps is a frail looking girl in a pink dress. on her arm is a man dressed in a crisp suit, presumably the butler usopp had mentioned earlier. though, from where you stand you can’t see either of their faces too clearly.

“what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaims, breathlessly.

“kaya!” usopp exclaims, returning her enthusiasm. buchi has no choice but to let him go, begrudgingly. usopp makes sure to shoot him a smug look before walking towards the young girl. “happy birthday.”

the butler clears his throat, not afraid to intrude on their special moment. “usopp, we’ve discussed this before. you mustn’t show up unannounced.”

“nonsense, klahadore.” kaya smiles warmly. “have you come to tell me another story? i do love hearing about your adventures.”

“i’ll do you one better,” usopp smirks with such confidence that even you’re left wondering what kind of surprise he has up his sleeve. “i brought some of my crew!” he gestures back towards the four of you, proudly.

your excitement vanishes. “oh. the surprise is… us.”

“well, that’s boring,” luffy agrees, just as disappointed as you are.

kaya, on the other hand, is none the wiser. “it’s so nice to meet you. you must all stay for dinner.”

klahadore lowers his voice. “miss kaya, it is a bit last minute. i’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests.”

“please,” begs kaya, softly. “it’s my birthday. can’t be too much trouble can it?”

giving in, klahadore purses his lips. “anything for you, miss kaya.”

luffy claps his hands together. “alright! when do we eat?”

“you don’t. not dressed like that, at least.” the butler directs himself to a staff member with teal colored hair. “sham, kindly show usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner.”

she follows his orders and leads the way. luffy, usopp, nami, and zoro trail behind her and you go to do the same. however, all it takes is a quick glance to stop you dead in your tracks. usually, you weren’t one to stare but klahadore’s face. that stare. so dark and depraved.

“yes, miss?” he asks, holding your gaze. “can i help you?”

“n-no, i…” your throat goes dry as you attempt to recover smoothly. “i just wanted to, um, thank you for being so hospitable.”

his lips curve upwards into a sinister grin. “the pleasure’s all mine.” as if to confirm your worst fear, klahadore uses his palm to readjust his glasses. his beady eyes gauge your reaction closely.

the familiar gesture sends chills down your spine. appearance-wise, he had changed drastically but his aura was still just as menacing as you remember it. he was still the corrupt pirate captain you used to serve under. you feel like a weak and helpless subordinate all over again.

“klahadore!” giggles kaya. “you’re smiling! that’s certainly a rarity.”

he hums. “i’ve simply come to the realization that having guests once in a while can truly be a delight.”

his sickeningly sweet tone makes your stomach turn. just the fact that you were standing in front of him – captain kuro – again after all these years was nauseating in itself. last you’d heard he had died at the hands of captain morgan. how was this even possible? then again, he wasn’t dubbed kuro of a hundred plans for no reason. he always had a trick or two up his sleeve. you assumed this was no different.

“hey, you comin’?”

you turn around to see zoro waiting for you. he meets your gaze for a moment. the softness of his eyes is a stark contrast to kuro’s. it’s a breath of fresh air. he then shifts his attention to your former captain and you swear his eyes darken.

“yeah, sorry,” you mumble, trying not to look shaken as you walk up the steps.

zoro follows behind you, this time closer than before.

“why would anybody even need this many clothes?”

“it’s not about need with these people, luffy. it’s about want,” nami spits, thumbing through the various fabrics on the wall.

“at least she’s rich and nice,” luffy replies, innocently.

nami rolls her eyes. “yeah, letting us stay for dinner must be her idea of charity work.”

“what are we even supposed to wear?” luffy continues, uninterested in nami’s criticism of the rich.

“anything you want. when are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?”

you step out from behind the changing board where you’d swapped out your old tee and cargo skirt for an elegant satin dress. it was a stunning shade of olive green and frilly lace decorated the edges. not to mention, it hugged your curves in all the right ways.

nami’s eyes widen. “see, she’s got the right idea. you look amazing.”

you smile, bashfully. “honestly, i feel amazing.”

“you look the same to me,” your captain shrugs.

nami shoots him a death glare but you intervene before she can scold him.

“way to keep me humble, luffy.”

“no problem!”

at that exact moment, a freshly showered zoro arrives donning a silk robe. he eyes the multitude of garments that cover every inch of the room, not particularly impressed.

“there you are. don’t you think she looks nice?” nami asks him, gesturing towards you. she doesn’t notice how you shrink under zoro’s gaze. neither does he, as his eyes take their time raking over you, from top to bottom.

he hums. “suits you.” with that, he sets off towards a chair in the corner of the room.

“seriously?” sighs nami, exasperated. “are you two physically unable to give compliments or something?”

“hey, doesn’t that butler seem familiar to you guys?” zoro asks, promptly ignoring nami’s complaint.

his question causes your breath to hitch. you’d pushed the kuro problem to the back of your mind while you were in search of a suitable dinner outfit. you figured that as long as your crew was by your side, he wouldn’t dare try anything. and even if he did… well, you’d seen what had happened to axe-hand morgan and buggy.

“yeah, i think he was at the last dinner party i attended,” nami replies sarcastically, taking a handful of dresses behind the changing board.

as he takes a seat, zoro grumbles, “i swear i’ve seen him before.”

“where?” you can’t help but ask, fiddling with the lace on the neckline of your dress.

“so far, i’ve got two suspicions. a wanted poster or funky bar on mirrorball island. you ever been?”

you know zoro’s teasing you, judging by the grin on his face. after all, funky bar was known to get insanely rowdy; never would he imagine finding someone as gentle as you there. but what he didn’t know is that it happened to be one of kuro’s favorite bars. per his request, you and the rest of the black cat pirates frequented it often, so he was more than likely right about having seen kuro there. he’d probably even seen you in passing, once or twice. thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any recollection of that.

the thought of zoro knowing about your past forms a knot in the pit of your stomach. would he think less of you for having joined such a ruthless crew at one point in your life? what if it put a strain on the friendship you’d worked so hard to form?

“i’ve, uh, heard of it,” you decide to reply, pushing down your worries for the time being.

he tilts his head slightly, thinking out loud. “then again, i have seen a lot of wanted posters and bars in my time as a pirate hunter.”

you feel a grin creep onto your face. “probably more bars than posters, huh?”

zoro mirrors your smile. “shut up.”

by the time dinner rolls around, the entire crew is doing what they do best.

luffy is stuffing his face, nami is attempting to swindle one of the staff, zoro is hanging by the drinks, and you’re hanging by zoro.

“hey zoro, you gotta try this!” luffy calls through a mouthful of food.

“i’ve got all i need right here,” he mutters, taking a swig out of his champagne flute.

“you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you choke down something that isn’t alcohol,” you comment, watching the way he downs the glass in one go.

dryly, he replies, “that’s because i haven’t.”

“very on brand.”

“ladies and gentlemen,” calls out that voice from the top of the stairs. “may i present… miss kaya.”

arm in arm, kuro and kaya walk down the steps, all eyes on the birthday girl and her stunning gown. well, except you. your eyes never leave the so-called butler by her side. your jaw clenches when he has the audacity to meet your gaze and hold it. shameless bastard.

once they reach the bottom, merry leads kaya to the guests while kuro takes his post at the bottom of the stairs… right next to the drink table. before you can think about steering yourself and zoro away, kuro speaks.

“forgive me if i am speaking out of line, madam, but i must inform you. you look positively radiant,” he purrs, soaking in your appearance. he looks ready to pounce.

you can’t stop your eyes from rolling. good to know he’s the same pervert he used to be.

looking between you both and sensing your discomfort, zoro steps in. “and you look familiar.”

kuro’s head stiffly turns to face him, eyes peeling away from you. “highly doubtful, sir.”

“funky bar? mirror ball island?”

“funky bar?” kuro repeats, disgusted. “well, i can assure you i’ve never patronized that type of establishment.”

while it was amusing to see your highly esteemed former captain lie through his teeth, the tension between him and zoro was unbearable.

“well then.” zoro continues with his little interrogation. “ever been on a wanted poster?”

you cringe at his bluntness. sometimes it seemed like he had less of a filter than luffy.

kuro puts on a scandalized face at the question. “sir! such an accusation is highly offensive.” tugging on his collar, he goes to remove himself from zoro’s probing. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to help prepare the dinner table.”

he leaves, en route to the dining room. zoro’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears, squinting as he racks his brain for any further recollection of this suspicious butler.

you sigh. if zoro was going to continue being so relentless, you were sure the night would end in bloodshed and uncovered secrets.

“keep this coming,” zoro demands, handing the empty wine bottle to sham. she takes it with a glare.

“would it kill you to say please?” you ask, slicing the slab of fish on your plate into smaller pieces.

“the service here is shitty. why should i have to be polite?”

you scowl. “remind me to never have dinner with you again.”

zoro turns to you with that cocky grin of his. “what if i asked nicely?”

his quip makes your heart flutter but you manage to keep your composure. “you can try your luck.”

before he can respond, usopp speaks up. “luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to kaya about?”

luffy gesticulates enthusiastically with his fork. “oh, yes! usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.”

“well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard and merry’s been running the business since they… passed. but all that’s about to change. tonight, at midnight, i will become the sole owner.” she smiles somberly.

“well, that’s great,” luffy says, raising his drink at her. “because we want to buy a ship from you.”

“ah, i see. usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.”

“nope, not sailors. we’re pirates!”

you’re certain at least three people at the table choke on their food, yourself included.

“this ought to be good,” zoro mumbles behind his glass.

you’re too busy coughing into your napkin to chastise him for finding this entertaining.

“pirates?” kaya repeats, unsure of how to react.

“yup! we haven’t sailed together for very long but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe! for a hand!” luffy holds up a fist, presumably to impersonate axe-hand morgan.

“sounds a lot like your adventures, usopp,” kaya says, turning to the brunette.

all he can do is laugh dryly. “yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.”

“and we’re just getting started!” luffy continues, climbing up onto the table.

“someone put me out of my misery,” you mumble, looking down at your plate to ignore the secondhand embarrassment.

a tap on your shoulder answers your plea.

turning around, you find yourself face to face with kuro once again. “madam, a word please?”

“might i ask what for?” zoro cuts in before you can so much as think of a response.

kuro offers him the most forced grin you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. “i’m afraid that is between the lady and i.”

the swordsman turns to you, scanning your face for any ounce of discomfort. “you okay with that?”

you inhale, figuring it was finally time for you to confront the darkest part of your past. it was silly to assume you would be able to ignore him throughout your entire stay here. besides, you were sure zoro, just like the rest of your crew, would be on standby if kuro got brave enough to try anything. “sure. just… keep an eye out.”

zoro understands completely. truthfully, you didn’t even need to ask – he always looked after you. “got it.”

you push yourself out of your seat and smooth out your dress. you allow kuro to lead you to the doorway – he was smart enough to know that was the farthest you’d let him take you.

“what do you want, klahadore?” you seethe, folding your arms.

he arches a brow. “why must you call me that? it’s ridiculous.”

you tilt your head with faux innocence. “oh? is that not your name? must have misheard.”

he gives you an irritated look, dark eyes drilling into you.

“i remember that look,” you mutter, your memory serving you well. “it’s the same one you’d give me before you’d threaten to slice me to bits with your claws.”

kuro has the audacity to chuckle dryly. “but i never did, did i? although there were certainly times times where i should’ve.”

“what you should be is dead,” you hiss bitterly. “when i heard the news, i knew it was too good to be true.”

“you wound me, kitten,” he drawls, reaching up to fix his glasses.

the condescending nickname makes your skin crawl. it carried so many awful memories of your time spent with the black cat pirates. it reminded you of just how weak kuro viewed you — nothing but a helpless, pitiful kitten in his eyes. typical of the man that abused his authority and treated you with not a single ounce of respect.

he continues, putting on a sweet tone. “after all these years, stuck waiting hand and foot on that spoiled brat, there’s nothing i’d love more than to hear my favorite crew mate say my real name.”

you snap at him. “i’m no crew mate of yours.”

he sighs, dramatically. “sadly, you’re correct. after all, you did slip off the ship the moment we docked in shells town. locating you on an island crawling with marines proved to be nearly impossible. we had no choice but to leave without you.”

“that’s exactly why i chose to escape there.”

“and to this day i can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ever do that. why would you want to leave us? leave me?”

you actually laugh right in his face. “is it really that hard to figure out? you were evil. you threatened and harassed me on a daily basis.”

“so your solution was to join that ragtag crew?” he glances at the table. “it’s pathetic, even for you.”

you lean into his face, lowering your voice down. “i’m happier than i ever was on your shitty crew. every day i wake up grateful that i managed to escape you.”

you see that vein on his forehead bulge before he’s gripping you by the chin. “listen here, you little bitch–”

the shiny silver of a sword slides between you and kuro, coming to rest against his neck. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps anxiously, releasing you. thanks to zoro’s sword, it seemed as if he finally remembered where he was. you were no longer on his ship, he was no longer allowed to treat you like the dirt he walked on. not without someone noticing, that is.

“why don’t you step away?” zoro offers simply.

that much was a kindness. usually those who found themselves on the end of zoro’s blade(s) weren’t lucky enough to receive a warning. however, the swordsman didn’t wish to cause a scene. at least not when you were right there and everyone was watching with shock from the dinner table.

kuro obliges, stumbling back. he meets kaya’s horrified eyes, feeling ashamed that he allowed his act to slip. surely this would cause some setbacks in his plan. with no excuse for his uncharacteristic behavior, the raven haired man scurries away and up the stairs.

zoro turns and locks eyes with luffy, giving him one singular nod. luffy returns it, jumping out of his seat and going after the butler. quiet murmuring breaks out at the dinner table, everyone surely confused.

sheathing his sword, zoro directs his attention to you once more. “are you alright?” a calloused hand comes up to grip your chin, much like kuro had. however, this time, the touch is gentle. loving, almost. you welcome it.

“yeah, i’m… fine.” your heart is beating out of your chest and it has everything to do with your close proximity to zoro.

he tilts your face around, inspecting every inch of it. once he finishes, he pulls back. his demeanor goes serious once more. “we need to have a talk.”

you nod. “i know. i’ve been keeping some things from you guys and–”

“just tell me what’s been going on,” he demands. “and don’t overcomplicate it. you can be straightforward with me.”

his sincerity makes you start over, this time far more candidly. “klahadore used to be a pirate. i was part of his crew. he was my… captain.”

the shame in your voice pulls at zoro’s heartstrings. didn’t you know there was no reason to feel guilty with him? “is that it?”

you open your mouth to speak but come up empty. all you can do is furrow your eyebrows at his unexpectedly dismissive reaction.

“i knew it,” zoro continues, annoyed. “i knew i’d seen him on a wanted poster before. just didn’t have any proof.”

“wait, so you don’t– you really don’t care?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. “me being a former black cat pirate doesn’t bother you?”

he shrugs. “you said it yourself. ‘former.’ all that matters is that you got the hell out of there. and away from that creep. would he always put his hands on you like that?”

you blink a couple times, sighing. “his temper was really bad so–”

that seemed to be enough for zoro. “i’ll kill the bastard,” he hisses. “wanted to slice him to bits the moment i saw him grab you.”

though it’s a violent threat, you can’t help but smile. the idea of zoro being so protective that he’d kill a man just for touching you made you blush. pirate love language, you suppose.

“well, i wouldn’t have stopped you,” you tell him, more than ready to see your former captain go.

zoro clicks his tongue. “nah. could’ve stained your new dress with his blood. i never would have been able to forgive myself.”

“so you do have a soft spot,” you tease.

“only for pretty things.”

“do you mean me or the dress?”

now it’s zoro’s turn to become bashful. though, his lack of response is an answer in itself. you can’t help but giggle.

a loud bang from upstairs interrupts your moment with the green-haired man. you assume luffy had gotten his hands on kuro… or vice versa. zoro must be thinking the same thing judging by the way he instinctively rests a hand on the handle of his blade.

“you should go up there,” you tell him. “i’ll stay with kaya.”

he gives you a nod, though he doesn’t make any effort to leave. he stands there like he wants to say something… or do something. before you can think about it too much, you pull him in by the collar and crash your lips onto his. they’re slightly chapped and taste like the wine that’d come from the cellar – it’s pleasant. his large palms come to rest on your lower back; his hold feels tight and secure.

when you finally allow yourself to pull away, you’re biting back a smile. “kick his ass for me.”

“will i get more of that if i do?” asks zoro, wetting his lips. they now taste like the cherry lip gloss you’d borrowed from kaya. he takes a step forward, attempting to close the gap between you two once more.

you shrug, pushing him away by the chest. “go help luffy and we’ll see.”

you both know that means yes.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla x reader #one piece x reader #zoro fluff

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sfznyxio · 1 month

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❝ 𝐈, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ❞

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. everyone says you’re the curse of your own legacy. dubbed “the worst ruler ever in history”, power is all you cared about. your selfishness leads to the downfall of your own kingdom, with you murdered at the hands of people you thought could be trusted. somehow the next day, you regress to the day you become the sole successor to the throne after the previous sovereign passed. can you prove your worth and show them you have what it takes to be the sovereign in this timeline?

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. argenti, bronya, dan heng, dr. ratio, gepard, jing yuan, ruan mei, sunday, trailblazer (caelus & stelle)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. f!reader. royal au, time travel au. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. 1.9k words. inspired by billion manhwas that have this trope lol. the royal family is absolutely horrible and reader hates them. reader experiences dissociative amnesia due to trauma from said family and the previous timeline. lots of self-doubt. death is everywhere in this fic. a dark joke about betrayal (bronya). reader has hair (gepard). murder of a loved one and revenge (sunday).

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀. new year, new blog, and new fic but two months later! on spring break so i’m happy i got to write again, even if it’s just a little bit. watch me disappear for another six months or so because grad school’s a bitch.

𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈.

rumor has it among a group of chivalrous knights from a forgotten land that their deity, the god of beauty idrila, is in your kingdom. you happen to come across one of them when you snuck out of the castle. the knight introduces himself as argenti, a knight of beauty… a very strange one.

what person talks to objects as if they’re people and compliments them that they’re beautiful? as soon as he lays on you, he’s in front of you on one knee and kisses your hand, declaring that you’re beautiful, even as beautiful as idrila themself. surely you’re weirded out, but he seems sincere.

there’s a possibility that your advisor sent a search party after you. you generally hate being escorted on your outings due to your upbringing, but going back there isn’t where your mind wants to be, so you ask the knight if he could be your company. ah, how could he resist a beautiful lady like yourself?

will he still see you as such when you ascend the throne?

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐀.

house rand is known for their strong military leadership and is a unique case of nobility. majority of its lineage are commoners, going through a selection process as children to be adopted by the current leader and be trained as their successor. shortly before your ascension, former leader cocolia rand passed away. no one knows the cause of death, except her daughter.

marchioness bronya pays a visit to introduce herself as the new leader of the house. the two of you express condolences for your families, though you try not to flinch at how she praises the late sovereign like everyone else. she believes you can keep secrets well, which isn’t entirely wrong, so she asks to borrow you. you already know the topic of discussion: the actual cause of death of madam cocolia.

it’s me. her dialogue muffles into white noise. madam cocolia has made a deal with her daughter to kill her if anything happens. hm…? did you put trust in someone to stop you if you ever went insane? can you stab me in the back if that’s the case? your mouth runs on its own, and she’s in shock. you brush it off as a joke afterwards, saying she should ignore it. yet you can’t yourself as it’s been haunting you since.

do you trust her to end your suffering, for the good of the kingdom?

𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆.

the archivist strikes you as someone who dislikes bothersome people, so you try not to spend too much time researching your condition. though upon meeting dan heng at the library, he appears courteous and doesn’t mind your company. what leaves you puzzled is that he doesn’t question your sudden interest in time travel and regression. instead, he leads you upstairs.

on the way there you trip and he grabs onto you, triggering a flashback of the mob capturing you with tight holds during your escape. realizing the intensity of his grip on you because your body’s shaking, he lets go and adjusts his hand placement to your back so you can get up. then he makes sure you’re alright before reaching the data bank.

he assumes that you’re still traumatized from your family’s death based on your reaction to that memory. everyone believes the same thing, and it’s definitely wrong. but you can’t magically convince them that you’ve seen the future where they’ll die because of you. however, his intentions make you feel at ease. he says he’ll be nearby for help. is it really okay to rely on someone else for once?

will he stick to his word and catch you when you fall to your death?

𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎.

the intelligentsia guild believes that knowledge is a valuable resource to obtain various mediums of information across the world. having one of their own at the castle not only as a professor at the royal academy, but as the advisor to the next sovereign is quite an honor. dr. ratio may be a brilliant scholar, but his interpersonal skills… not so much.

there isn’t a day where you’re spared from his lectures. to be fair, you’ve done questionable things after your family’s passing: sneaking out of the castle, researching time travel and regression, and raising raccoons that almost destroyed your garden and your servants’ sanities. nevertheless, you’re irritated by his emphasis on your reputation as a ruler. does it look like i want to be one? you storm out without a second thought.

after calming down, you search for him to apologize. you should’ve told him about how you felt instead of letting out an outburst. unfortunately he has gone home, but leaves a note that addresses your “odd hobbies” - ways to not alert the servants during your escapades, literature of topics of interest that aren’t in the library, and interventions of minimizing the chaos of your familiars. you take it as an apology; he’s more considerate than you think even if he doesn’t admit it.

can he stay by your side if you decide to abdicate the throne?

𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃.

house landau is the “shield” of the kingdom, serving the royal family for generations. their current leader count landau is a stern man from what you recall the several times you visited him as a child. now he’s forced to retire due to his illness, replaced by his eldest and only son gepard, your childhood friend.

the two of you haven’t interacted much as you reach the training period for succession, whereas his father drills him to be insubordinate to the royal family as they have been. with your parents gone and the count ill, you can see him whenever you wish. but how should you approach him? more importantly, does he still see you as a friend? you give up instantly, exhausted from your mental trip to the past.

amidst the flames, he yells at you to run as shadows consume him. you shoot up - bloodshot eyes, rapid heartbeat, and heavy breaths. a pair of arms engulfs you, one hand rubbing your back and the other buried in your hair. rest, i’m here, he whispers against your forehead. you start to lose it, sobbing uncontrollably on his chest.

is this what giving in to your selfish gains feels like?

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍.

the sight of citizens flocking to the plaza can be seen from your balcony.

three people emerge from the crowd, who you recognize as residents of the civilization in the sky: the xianzhou alliance. they have no reason to be here unless it’s important business, and that happens to be you. how forgetful you are.

earlier you test a theory that hopefully changes your tragic fate. it takes courage to act like a jester in front of the council, sending diplomats to invite various factions to forge alliances. the entire court and yourself are amazed that one of the arbiter-generals jing yuan is here in the flesh. the xianzhou rely on themselves for help rather than outsiders, so there must be something that he wants from you.

little did you know while you’re interested in the xianzhou’s manpower, he’s interested in you. his two attendants have never seen their general smitten over someone before; it’s obnoxious. his visits become frequent; his purpose of seeking specific resources is really an excuse to shower you with gifts. he appreciates how headstrong you are throughout the tragedies you faced, wishing you give yourself more credit. he has faith in your capability as a sovereign, even if you don’t agree.

he’s not here to play with your feelings, is he?

𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐈.

house ruan is revered by academia as geniuses of the century, yet rarely shows up in public as they care less about being in the spotlight. rather, they dedicate their lives to science. their daughter carries the household name with grace and elegance, though it can’t be said the same with her experiments in which she entrusts you to be her assistant.

lady ruan mei is interested in the concept of life. cycles of birth, growth, and death. existence of the living. development of cognition, emotions, and behaviors. they’re fascinating to her. creating lifeforms makes you feel some sort of sorrow; your creation is modeled after yourself. then you wonder how your family reacted when you were born.

soon you’re asked by the scientist about your existence, and whether you believe the gods can answer that. now that you think about it, were they involved in your regression? the human race worships the power of the heavens: creation and destruction. death is inevitable, but can the gods also rewrite reality? if they choose to send you back in time, did they want you to redeem yourself?

why bother going so far if you’re going to screw up again?

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘.

no one hosts festivities as grand as house oak. under the impression that you’ve been secluded in your room grieving over the previous sovereign, they’ll throw a small party to cheer you up and celebrate your upcoming ascension. the thought of announcing you want to abdicate the throne is tempting, but their efforts will go to waste so you scrap it. might as well keep up a front and plan your next moves.

you’re welcomed into the venue by the high priest sunday, the organizer of this party. you’re feeling nervous, not because of the amount of guests but because of his overwhelming presence. he doesn’t seem familiar, or are you misremembering? do you still feel unwell, your majesty? behind the high priest is a young woman who bears some resemblance to him, and everything all at once falls into place.

his sister is the precious sun of his life, executed by the eclipse. the high priest follows the royal family without hesitation, only for his loyalty to be questioned at her expense. he isn’t the type to act so rash, but for her he’ll go to great lengths to exact his revenge. you lie to the siblings that you’re fine and tell the high priest to take care of her. there’s more than meets the eye regarding your behavior, but he just agrees to not arouse any suspicion.

what secrets have your people been hiding from you?

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑.

there are twin raccoons that practically live in your garden and are your servants’ worst nightmares. somehow they’re kind of like you - living in luxury while rotten to the core. you remember ordering your servants to exterminate them last time, so you take them instead so you won’t freak them out, much to your advisor’s dismay.

later you discover that caelus and stelle are shapeshifters who lost their memories, with their only lead being a magenta-haired woman. to your surprise they love to gossip, which proves themselves useful to be your spies, gathering intel on the current news that could coincide with the ones in the previous timeline. they can also find information about that woman. killing two birds with one stone.

sometimes you worry about their work ethic, considering how chaotic they can be. for instance, their unhealthy obsession with trash cans. as much as you need them to get the job done, you realize you’re nothing better than your family. those two are extensions of yourself, learning about the world just as you are. so you step back and let them have fun with scraps. they’ll get to their missions eventually.

they appear to be loyal to a fault so there’s no way they’ll betray you, right?

#♪ .fics #honkai: star rail #honkai: star rail x reader #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #bronya x reader #dan heng x reader #dr ratio x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #ruan mei x reader #sunday x reader #trailblazer x reader #caelus x reader #stelle x reader #honkai: star rail angst #honkai: star rail fluff #hsr angst #hsr fluff

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kwanisms · 5 months

Text

» ateez masterlist | collab masterlist «

➮ yunho × fem!Reader

wc: 21.4k

summary: All throughout her formative years, Y/N has always harbored a bit of a crush on her best friend’s brother, Yunho. Having not seen him for years, she doesn’t expect those feelings to come back when she joins the Jeong’s on a family trip to a cabin in the Alps for the holiday. When she meets Yunho and his girlfriend, she’s hopeful that she can finally move on.

genres/themes/au: angst (if you squint really hard), fluff, smut; holiday travel, holiday, best friend’s brother; non idol au, holiday au, best friend’s brother au, friends to lovers au

warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, thoughts of infidelity (no actual cheating), physical injury, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

special tags: @millennial-fangirl @twisted-tales-of-all @staytinyville @skyechild

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @surveilenceysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @plutoneu @prestineaugstine @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3 @tigerhoshi25 @chocolate-scoups @spilled-coffee-cup @aaniag @ayoo-bangtan @walkingtravesty97 @yevene

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @starlitmark @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina

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a/n: here I am with the kick off to this holiday collab! I had a fun time writing this and really enjoyed how it turned out. She's kind of lengthy but are we really surprised? That's pretty on point for me lmao Thank you so much for reading and if you like this please consider reblogging! Also make sure to check out the others as they come out! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: lots of heavy petting, unprotected sex (wrap it up), fingering (f receiving), size kink, praise kink, use of pet names (baby, angel, kitten, etc), choking kink (f receiving), daddy kink, dirty talk, soft dom!Yunho, sub!Reader, Yunho is smitten, like head over heels for MC and she is too. They’re just obsessed with each other. If I missed anything please let me know!

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For most people, the one constant in their lives is their best friend and for you, it was no different. Meeting Yumi on the playground in elementary school would bring with it not only a friendship that would last but it would also bring with it your first love.

Yumi was the middle of three children. She had a younger brother, Gunho, who always annoyed her whenever you came over, wanting to join in on whatever the two of you were doing. Typical kid brother stuff she told you. Gunho wasn’t as insufferable as Yumi made him out to be and he was nice enough so you weren’t really that bothered by his presence.

Yumi also had an older brother, Yunho. He was in middle school the first time you met him, though you and Yumi weren’t that far behind him. Yunho was polite and friendly towards you while simultaneously teasing and taunting Yumi, something she said was also typical brother behavior.

You first realized you had a crush on Yunho when you started middle school and saw him in the hallways between classes. You could feel it whenever he smiled or laughed at something his friends said, or the way he went out of his way to make sure you made it home safe before walking Yumi home.

Your crush on him blossomed and grew even into high school. Even when it became clear that he didn’t see you that way, you still hoped in the back of your mind that Yunho might notice you or that he felt the same way but then he graduated and was off to college.

You hoped that with him gone, you might finally be able to move on and for a bit, you did.

Until he came back from college for winter break.

Seeing Yunho even more grown up stirred up all the old feelings you thought you’d buried, and you were reduced to a bumbling mess when you walked in on him, shirtless, in the kitchen in the middle of the night when you were looking to get a bottle of water.

As quickly as he came back, Yunho was gone again, off to college. When you graduated, you and Yumi chose to attend the same college, one Yunho didn’t go to. Another year and another winter break, Yunho returned once again bringing with him a girlfriend this time.

Seeing Yunho with someone who wasn’t you gave you the final push you needed to move on.

Or so you thought.

When Yumi asked you a week ago to join her family on a trip to the Swiss Alps as your family decided to spend the winter in the heat of Australia, it didn’t dawn on you that a family trip meant Yunho would be there too. You were mad at the way your body betrayed your years of repression, heart skipping a beat upon seeing him now, years later.

He’d matured into a very handsome man, taller than you remembered with broad shoulders. His hair had finally returned to its natural color after he experimented in college with bleach and bright colors. You fondly remembered the time he came home during break with bright blue hair and nearly gave his mother a heart attack. While you thought he looked good in any color, you’d always had a soft spot for his natural hair.

As you approached the group, you saw Yunho wasn’t alone.

He’d brought a new girlfriend who you learned was named Seomi.

You smiled politely when you greeted the pair and had you been paying attention at all, you would have noticed the way Yunho’s eyes lingered a little longer on you as you turned to greet your best friend’s parents. It had been some time since you’d seen the brothers and even Gunho had grown up and was starting to look a lot like Yunho, tall but not as tall as the giant of the family.

The flight to Zurich was a long one and thankfully, you had one layover in Istanbul which was an experience in itself but after a few hours, you were back on a plane bound for Switzerland. The first flight, you sat between Yumi and Gunho but the second flight had you seated next to Yunho by the window while Seomi had the aisle seat.

To say it was awkward was the understatement of the century. You spent most of that leg of the flight trying to sleep or listening to music downloaded to your phone. Whatever you could do to avoid speaking to or looking at Yunho.

Arriving in Zurich made you feel like you were part of a traveling circus; Yumi lost her luggage, Gunho left his carry-on in the overhead compartment and had to go back for it, Seomi misplaced her passport but found it in Yunho’s bag. It felt like you and your best friend’s parents were the only ones who had it together.

From Zurich, you were to take a bus to the village of Siebnen. The bus ride was mostly quiet, the sun coming up as you drove through the empty streets and slowly made your way out of the city. The village was at the base of the Alps and you’d never seen such tall mountains before.

The sight of the perpetually snow capped mountains looming over the city as the bus headed closer and closer to the next stop had you more and more excited for the trip. You were practically bouncing in your seat next to Yumi who was taken aback by your sudden enthusiasm.

Once you reached the village, your travel group disembarked from the bus and made your way to a car rental place to pick up a van to take up the mountain roads. You were in the very back with Yumi and Gunho with Yunho and Seomi in the middle seats.

The ride up the mountain was just as exciting for you as the bus ride had been and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring out the window, taking in the grandeur of it all. The rolling farmland was interspersed with forests as the road wound up the side of the mountain, climbing higher and higher as the road got steeper.

As you passed a small farm, you were whisper-shouting to your best friend about the cute sheep when the van turned onto a road that led into a vast forest. The forest grew more and more dense as you climbed even higher still. There were remnants of snow from the most recent winter storm and before you could ask how much longer, the van turned onto a dirt road, driving a little slower.

You twisted in your seat, trying to catch a glimpse of the lodge where you were to be staying. Yumi’s family had rented a massive lodge for ten days and you’d only learned during the layover that Yumi’s extended family would be there as well.

It dawned on you that this would be your first time meeting her cousins, aunts, and uncles.

As the van rolled to a stop, you were far beyond the reaches of your normal excitement as Yunho and Seomi first climbed out, followed by Gunho, Yumi, and finally you were the last to be let out, stumbling as your foot caught on one of the seatbelts. Yunho managed to catch you before you went down.

“Whoa,” he said, chuckling. “Someone is excited.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, making him chuckle again. “Don’t apologize for almost falling,” he replied. “Just be careful,” he added with a wink. You thanked him again and awkwardly scurried away to join the others at the back of the van to collect your luggage.

The lodge was mostly empty, save for a few family members. You followed Yumi to the room you would be sharing for the next ten days which happened to be next to the room Yunho and Seomi were sharing. On the other side of their room was the room where one of Yumi’s aunt and uncle were staying.

Once you had dropped off your luggage, Yumi dragged you down to the main living area to meet the rest of her family. Her aunt and uncle were on her maternal side and they had three kids as well.

The eldest was a girl with waist length hair named Haneul. Yumi had told you she was in college. The middle child was a boy named Jun-seo who was in high school, wore glasses and carried his Nintendo switch everywhere. The youngest was in his last year of elementary school and his name was Ju-won.

You greeted them politely but the moment Yunho introduced Seomi, all attention was on her and you were able to breathe easily. You hated attention more than anything and now that the attention was on someone else, you felt a lot better. At least until dinner.

Attention was divided with some focusing on Seomi and wanting to know every little detail about her and Yunho’s relationship while a few were more interested in Yumi’s best friend from childhood. You answered all the questions thrown at you despite feeling like a blinding spotlight was on you.

The next day brought with it more snow and more family.

This time from Yumi’s father’s side. His sister and her husband and their two kids. Twin boys named Kang-min and Jang-min. You learned they were around your age and while being nearly identical, they had vastly different views, opinions, and interests. Kang-min was more the quiet type. He loved sports and academics and was a model student in college. After graduation, he found work as a nutritionist.

Jang-min on the other hand was much louder, more boisterous, and loved a good party. He landed a job as a journalist, writing for an advice column. His interests were more in the home. He loved to cook and bake, and you learned when he had a little too much wine, he got overly friendly.

You found him to be very funny and found his shameless flirting harmless.

Everyone else thought it was kind of funny, too. Well, almost everyone.

Yunho made his distaste of Jang-min’s actions known pretty quickly when he noticed Jang-min’s hand lingering on your knee a little too long. He didn’t even hide it, instead calling his cousin out in front of the whole family.

“Is it really appropriate for you to be touching her like that?” he asked his cousin as the latter leaned against you, his hand perched on your knee as he laughed at a joke you made. The laughter subsided almost instantly and Jang-min looked at his cousin with wide eyes.

“What?” he asked. Yunho glared at the younger man. “Just keep your hands to yourself,” he retorted. “She’s not your family. You can’t just touch people like that.” You felt your heart sink, not for yourself but for Jang-min who recoiled, crossing his arms over his chest immediately.

“Yunho,” his mother chastised. “Jang-min didn’t do anything wrong,” she continued. “And Y/N didn’t say anything about it bothering her,” Yumi added, turning to look at you. “Was it bothering you or making you uncomfortable?” she asked softly. You shook your head. “No,” you replied.

“Jang-min’s just a touchy person. I get like that sometimes when I drink,” you added.

Yunho said nothing, instead excused himself and got up from the circle, heading upstairs, Seomi on his heels.

That wasn’t the first time Yunho had told off one of his cousins for getting too close to you. He did the same thing a couple days later. The parents had all gone to bed as had the young ones leaving you, Yumi, Yunho, Seomi, the twins, Haneul, and Gunho sitting around the fire pit outside on the patio.

Instead of wine, Yumi and Haneul had gotten into the liquor stash and made drinks while the others had opted to drink beer. After Jang-min had gotten another scolding from Yunho for his behavior, the younger man had picked a spot furthest from where you sat, putting you between Gunho and Yumi. You were nursing your drink when Haneul spoke up.

“Why don’t we play a game,” Haneul said, looking around the circle. You glanced at Yumi who nodded. “What did you have in mind?” she asked excitedly. “I swear if you say Truth or Dare, I’m out of here,” Yunho grumbled, Seomi flashing him a smile.

“Truth or Dare is so juvenile,” she added with a nod. You looked away from them to Haneul who seemed to be deep in thought. “What about Paranoia?” you offered, regretting it the moment seven pairs of eyes landed on you. “What’s that?” Kang-min asked, leaning forward to see you better around his twin.

“It’s a party game,” Jang-min answered quickly. “You sit in a circle and one person whispers a question into another person’s ear and then that person has to answer the question out loud for everyone to hear. It has to be a question about someone in the group like ‘who do you think gives the best hugs’ or something similar. And then if you want to find out the answer, you have to drink and then ask. If the person doesn’t want to tell you the question, they also have to drink,” he explained.

“Sounds complicated,” Kang-min murmured. You wracked your brain for another game. “Oh!” Yumi said quickly. “What about Ring of Fire?” You let out a laugh. You knew all too well what Ring of Fire was as you had both played it a lot back in college. “If we want to play that, we’re gonna need to go inside,” you reminded her. “We have to sit at the table.”

Yunho glanced up at you and then to his sister. “I’m down,” he replied, looking at Seomi. “You want to go in? It is kinda getting cold out here.” Seomi nodded. “Yeah,” she answered. “Let’s go in.”

Once the fire had been dealt with, the group moved inside, sitting around the table while you and Yumi worked to set up the game. You found a pack of cards in one of the end tables in the living room while Yumi hunted for a large cup. Once you had your supplies, you started setting up.

“Has anyone played this before?” Yumi asked as she set the cup in the center. You noticed everyone shaking their heads as you cut the deck and set the cards in piles face down around the cup in the center. “Everyone is going to need full drinks,” you explained.

There was a brief pause as everyone grabbed refills. Once they were all sitting back down, you and Yumi took turns explaining the rules of the game.

“If you draw an Ace, that’s ‘waterfall.’ Going around the circle clockwise,” Yumi explained, drawing a circle in the air with her finger. “Each player starts drinking their drink consecutively and you have to keep going until the player before you stops.”

“If you draw a two of any suit, that’s the ‘you’ card. You point at someone else to take a drink. Likewise, if you draw the three of any suit, that’s the ‘me’ card and you have to take a drink,” you continued. Yumi nodded and continued the explanation. “If someone draws a four, that’s the ‘girls’ card and all girls have to take a drink.”

“That’s kind of sexist,” Haneul complained but Seomi waved her off. “It’s just a game,” she replied. “Five is the ‘thumb master.’ Whoever draws this card has to discreetly put their thumb up which everyone has to copy. The last person with their thumb up has to take a drink,” Yumi continued.

“How many rules are there?” Kang-min asked. “As many types of cards there are,” Yumi said with a shrug. “Six is the ‘boys’ card and all boys have to take a drink. Seven is the ‘heaven’ card, which is similar to thumb master only you have to point up to the sky. Last one to do it has to drink,” you continued.

“What’s eight?” Seomi asked. “Eight is ‘mate,’” Yumi answered. “What’s that?” Seomi asked, tilting her head to the side like a curious puppy. “You pick someone to be your ‘mate,’” you answered. “If you have to drink, so do they for the rest of the game.”

You didn’t miss the way Seomi flashed Yunho a mischievous grin.

“Nine is the ‘rhyme’ card: if you draw this card, you have to pick a word and then we go around the table and everyone has to come up with a word that rhymes with that word. Ten is the ‘category’ card. You pick a category and everyone has to name something in that category, anyone who can’t come up with something for either nine or ten has to drink,” you added.

“Okay, so what is Jack?” Yunho asked, looking up at you. “Make a rule,” Yumi answered. “You get to make up a rule or forfeit that has to be obeyed throughout the game. It’s sort of a power card,” she explained. “And Queen?” Yunho asked again, his eyes still on you. “Question Master,” Yumi answered quickly. “You have to ask the others questions and they have to answer with a question. Whoever doesn’t answer with a question has to drink.”

Yunho nodded, eyes still on you. “And what about King?” he asked. “Fill up the cup,” you answered, nodding at the cup in the middle. “Pour some of your drink into the glass and whoever draws the fourth king has to chug the entire contents.”

Yunho’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Okay,” he said, sitting up and looking down at the cards in front of him.

“Let’s play.”

The first round was a mess, trying to re-explain the rules of the game each time a card was drawn that you resorted to writing the rules down for each person who asked for clarification. The second round was a lot better. You drew a six and laughed, pointing at Jang-min who playfully glared at you as he took a drink.

When it got to Yunho, he pulled the 8 of diamonds. Seomi glanced up at him, expecting him to pick her but was surprised when Yunho instead picked you. “Now you have to drink every time Yunho does,” Yumi said as Seomi picked up a card. She drew a two of Hearts and immediately pointed at you.

You raised your glass and took a drink without complaint. Yumi had mixed something together and it tasted amazing. It was so good you weren’t sure if there was even any alcohol in it. “Your turn Kang-min!” Seomi said, positively beaming as she smiled at him.

Kang-min drew the first King of the night, grimacing as he reached over to pour some of his beer into the glass. “Ugh, this is gonna be so gross,” Gunho said when he pulled a king from a different pile and poured some of his drink into the cup.

Haneul drew a ten of Clubs and pondered for a moment before calling out her category. “Christmas movies!” she said excitedly, turning to look at Yumi. “Elf,” Yumi answered, turning to you. “Jingle All the Way,” you said softly. Gunho said Miracle on 34th Street and it continued back around to you.

“Die Hard,” you blurted out. Seomi pointed at you. “Drink! That’s not a Christmas movie!” she said excitedly. “Yes it is,” you replied. Seomi shook her head. “No it’s not! It’s an action movie,” she argued. “That takes place during Christmas,” you added. “It’s a Christmas movie.”

Seomi turned to Yunho for help but he merely shrugged. “She’s got a point,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s also listed as a Christmas movie on Hulu,” Jang-min offered. “It’s your turn Gunho,” Yunho said, looking at his younger brother. “Home Alone,” he said without hesitation. “Nightmare Before Christmas,” Yunho said, turning to Seomi who hesitated.

She took too long because Yumi, Jang-min and Haneul all pointed at her. “Drink!” they said in unison. Seomi begrudgingly took a drink and glared at Yumi who shrugged. “Them’s the rules,” she said, unphased. “It’s just a game, babe,” Yunho said softly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

The next couple rounds had Gunho pulling thumb master, Yunho drawing the Me card which you had to drink with him. Yumi drew the third king and poured half of what remained in her cup into the center cup. You held your breath as you drew a card and sighed with relief at the little nine looking back at you.

“Nine,” you announced, flashing the card. You pondered for a moment, trying to come up with a good word to make everyone rhyme with. “Dime,” you said, looking at Gunho who stared at you. “Like, the currency?” he asked, making sure he heard you right. You nodded. “Lime,” he continued, turning to Yunho. “Crime,” he stated, turning to Seomi. “Grime,” she said, looking you directly in the eye.

“Chime,” Jang-min chirped, turning to his twin. “I’m,” he said, looking proud of himself. “Mime,” Haneul said excitedly, turning to Yumi. “Prime!” Yumi shouted, apologizing when several shushed her. “Climb,” you said, turning to Gunho. “Rhyme,” he said smugly. Yunho chuckled and shook his head. “Sublime,” he continued. “Time,” Seomi said quickly.

It continued back around to you. “Thyme,” you said softly. “The herb,” you added. “Lyme,” Gunho said. “Like the disease,” he clarified, making you and Yumi burst into laughter. Yunho fought the urge to laugh as he stammered out “slime.” It fell to Seomi again who froze. “Oh shit,” she cursed softly, lifting her glass to take a drink. “We kind of exhausted all the options,” Jang-min said with a laugh.

Gunho pulled the eight of clubs and pointed at Yunho. “Doesn’t that mean whenever I drink, Yunho and Y/N have to drink?” he asked, looking past you at Yumi. “Like a chain reaction or something?” Yumi nodded. “It does!” she answered. “Sorry Y/N,” she added with a smirk.

When it came around to you again, you luckily pulled the eight of Hearts and smirked at your best friend. “Alright, mate,” you said with an evil grin. Yumi groaned loudly. “I knew you’d do that,” she grumbled as Gunho pulled the three of Diamonds. “Alright drinking buddies, let’s go,” he said, taking a drink. Yunho followed, as did you, then Yumi.

Yunho pulled the four of Spades and laughed maniacally. “You have to drink twice, Yumi,” he said, sticking his tongue out at his sister. She glared at him but did as he said. Seomi pulled her card and stared at it for a solid six seconds before Yunho glanced at it and gasped.

“She pulled the last king,” he said softly. “Oh… looks like you gotta chug the drink in the middle!” Jang-min said excitedly while Kang-min looked on with mild curiosity and disgust. Seomi took a deep breath but as she reached for the cup, Yunho took it instead. “I’ll drink it for her,” he said, lifting the glass. “She’s got a weak stomach. I don’t want you getting sick,” he added in a soft tone, looking at her.

Yunho downed the contents quickly, grimacing as he set the glass down. “Alright,” he said, coughing. “Is that game?” he asked, looking around. You glanced at Yumi who looked back and shrugged. “We could keep going,” she suggested. “Until all the cards are gone.”

You shook your head. “Let’s just call it there,” you suggested. “The King’s cup is gone,” you added. “We could always shuffle the king cards back in,” Jang-min suggested but you shook your head. “It’s okay,” you said as Seomi started to get up. “Let’s call it a night. We have plans tomorrow anyway,” Yumi said.

The group split up, heading to their respective rooms to get ready for bed.

The next morning, Yumi woke you up early so you could shower before the trip into the nearby town. According to her, it was a small picturesque town, already decorated for the holidays. You both dressed in silence, heading down to the dining room for breakfast.

Yunho was already sitting at the table, Seomi sitting next to him with her arms crossed over her chest, a slight pout on her face. “Morning,” Yumi said as she took a seat, leaving an open seat next to Yunho. Rather than taking it, you sat on the other side of your best friend.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the family to join you, Haneul sitting beside you while Gunho took the seat between his sister and brother. Breakfast went by in mostly silence as everyone was still waking up and eating. After eating, you followed Yumi back up to the room to finish getting ready for the day.

Once everyone was ready, you all piled into the vans outside and headed for the village. The drive down didn’t take that long and soon, you were looking out the windows, catching glimpses of the architecture, roofs blanketed in snow, and holiday decorations everywhere.

You were in the very back again, this time with Yunho and Seomi while Gunho and Yumi sat in the middle seats. Yunho sat in the middle, you on his left, and Seomi to his right. You opted to stare out the window the whole time as to not stare at Yunho or make eye contact.

Last night, the way he stared at you while you explained the rules of the game stirred something inside you and you didn’t really want to revisit whatever it was that was coming back to life inside. Not to mention the way your heart jumped into your throat every time his thigh brushed against yours on the bumpy mountain road.

Once you were in town, vans parked, You scrambled out with the others and gathered around so the older adults could explain the rules. You were allowed to go off on your own and explore but everyone was to meet up for lunch at a specific location. Once this was explained, you were free to go off on your own. You took off with Yumi, Haneul tagging along so she didn’t have to go with her brothers or with the twins and Gunho. Yunho and Seomi obviously went off on their own and you were able to breathe easily.

Yumi ended up dragging you and Haneul to a little boutique that caught her eye and although there was nothing you were interested in, it was still fun to watch Yumi and Haneul shop and try things on. After the boutique, you wanted to step into a shop full of crystals and glass to check it out. There was even a demonstration of glass blowing near the back that you couldn’t seem to pull yourself from.

Eventually Yumi and Haneul dragged you away and the next shop you stumbled into was a jewelry shop. You were looking at the necklaces with Haneul when you heard her gasp slightly. You looked up and followed her line of sight, spotting what she saw.

Yunho and Seomi.

The latter was looking at rings and you felt your heart stop, bile in your stomach rising as you tasted something sour in the back of your throat. You looked away, not wanting to witness whatever was going on over there as Haneul waved frantically at Yumi, drawing her over so she could point.

Yumi stared in awe before grabbing both you and Haneul and dragged you out of the shop onto the sidewalk to peer through the window. “Is Yunho going to propose?” Haneul asked softly as she stared into the shop. Yumi shook her head. “I have no idea. I don’t even know how long they’ve been dating,” she answered. “It can’t have been long because I’ve never heard about her before.”

You tore your gaze from the couple inside the shop, your eyes landing on a bookstore nearby. “Hey,” you said softly, tapping your best friend on the shoulder. “Isn’t the twins’ birthday coming up soon?” you asked. Yumi turned to look at you. “Yeah. Which reminds me, I need to get them gifts.”

You pointed at the bookstore. “Kang-min likes books, right?” you asked. Yumi nodded. “Yeah, mainly manga but he also likes horror books,” she answered. “Let’s go in there. Let Yunho and Seomi have their privacy,” you suggested. The other two thankfully listened and the three of you headed across the busy street to the bookstore.

After the bookstore, the three of you stopped by a small courtyard with all kinds of statues. Yumi wanted to take some pictures and you obliged as the three of you squeezed together to fit in the camera’s view. As the day wore on, your stomach started to rumble and Haneul complained of being hungry. Checking her watch, Yumi saw that it was almost 1 pm and looked at her phone.

“We should probably head for the restaurant,” she said softly. The three of you headed back, walking down the busy sidewalk, chatting. It was mostly Haneul and Yumi chatting as you couldn’t get the image of Yunho and Seomi in the jewelry shop out of your head.

You thought you were past this. The fluttering of your heart when he was around was one thing, but getting so jealous it made you nauseous was another thing entirely. You’d never once felt that way before. It made you wonder what was wrong with you. Yunho wasn’t yours and he never would be but you still couldn’t let go of these feelings.

“Y/N?” you heard Yumi’s voice pull you from your thoughts. “You alright?” she asked. The two of them had stopped and were looking at you with concern. “I’m okay,” you murmured. “Just feeling a little nauseous,” you added. “You want to go back to the lodge?” Yumi asked. You shook your head.

“I’m sure it’ll go away when I eat.”

You didn’t want to ruin the trip because of your unbridled jealousy so for the sake of your best friend, you’d swallow it and suck it up. You’d have to at some point.

The restaurant was a cozy place with a lot of nordic patterns. The three of you were shown to a backroom where the rest of the family was already gathered. The only three seats left were between Yunho and Jang-min. Before you could ask Haneul to switch you, she sat down next to her cousin while Yumi took the seat next to her.

‘Fuck.’

You moved and sat between your best friend and her brother, trying not to look at him.

Immediately, you picked up your menu and looked over the options. “What’re you gonna get?” you heard a voice ask. Looking up, you met Yunho’s gaze. “I’m not sure yet,” you replied softly, turning your gaze back to the menu. “Maybe the chicken.”

“Chicken is always a good choice,” Yunho murmured with a nod as he looked over his own menu. I might get that too,” he added. You said nothing, instead looking at the menu as if you hadn’t decided yet. You were just trying to avoid conversation or eye contact with the man next to you.

When the server arrived, you took turns ordering your food and drinks. Once the menus were taken away, everyone fell into comfortable conversation. Everyone except you.

“So Y/N,” a voice said, snapping you from your thoughts.

You looked up to see half the table’s eyes were on you. The speaker was Haneul, Jun-seo, and Juwons mother. “How long have you known Yumi?” she asked. You turned to your best friend before looking back. “Since we were in elementary school,” you answered. “We’ve been friends for years.”

“What do you do for work?”

You sat there, answering mundane questions about your life, letting the family get to know you a little more. Most of the questions were tame, consisting of inquiries about your work, your life growing up, your friendship with Yumi. Until someone brought up a question that made you want to sink into the floor.

“And you aren’t seeing anyone?”

You thought you felt Yunho tense up beside you but it had to have been your imagination. You shook your head. “She’s been on a few dates here and there since college,” Yumi offered, trying to take the attention off you. “But she hasn’t met the right person yet.”

You were thankful when the conversation shifted to talk about Yumi’s love life, or lack thereof. You had settled back down in your seat and were patiently waiting for your food to arrive so you had an excuse to not answer anymore questions.

“Are you okay?” you heard Yunho ask softly. Looking up, you met his gaze and nodded wordlessly, looking away from him. “I’m fine,” you lied with a forced smile. Whether or not Yunho bought your act you wouldn’t know because before he could respond, the server returned with a few others, bringing your plates out.

The arrival of the food meant most of the party was eating rather than talking. It was a nice reprieve and you hoped soon that you could return to the lodge and call it a day. Seomi and Yunho were speaking in hushed tones before Yunho shook his head and Seomi got up, excusing herself to go to the bathroom. Yunho excused himself and got up to follow.

You exchanged glances with Yumi who shrugged and went back to her food, you following her lead not long after. Yunho returned moments later and sat back down, looking mildly annoyed at something. You took it upon yourself to check on him this time.

“Everything alright?” you asked softly, making sure not to draw any attention. Yunho gave you a smile and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said just as softly. “It’s nothing,” he added. You chose not to push it and resumed picking at your food, most of your appetite having left soon after your food arrived.

“You want to get it to go?” Yumi asked as the server eventually returned with the check and to go boxes. You nodded and thanked her as she handed you a box. You said nothing as you scooped your mostly uneaten chicken pasta into the box and closed the lid, setting the plate aside and waiting for the group to start making its way to the exit.

Seomi finally returned and declined to take her leftovers, leaving her meal mostly uneaten at the table.

Once the bill was settled, you followed the group out the door, Yumi at your side and slowly made your way back to the parking lot where the vans were sitting. The ride back out of town and to the lodge was quiet and you chose to sit in the middle seat with Yumi while Yunho, Seomi, and Gunho sat in the back.

Upon arriving back at the lodge, you followed Yumi inside, putting your food in the fridge and headed upstairs to shed your layers and put on some more comfortable clothes. Once you were done, you joined the group downstairs as they sat near the fireplace while Mr. Jeong got a fire going.

You watched the younger boys play before Mrs. Jeong and Haneul’s mother called out that the hot chocolate was ready. Yumi offered to get you a mug but you declined before telling your best friend you had to use the bathroom. On your way to the room, you passed Yunho and Seomi’s room and heard them arguing in hushed tones. You weren’t sure what was being said but you didn’t stick around, walking to the bathroom and shutting the door quickly.

After finishing your business, you opened the door and bumped into Seomi who glared at you. “Watch where you’re going,” she snapped. Before she could push past you into the bathroom you stopped her. “Then don’t stand in the middle of the door when I open it like some sort of creep,” you snapped back and walked past her, passing Yunho who stared at you as you walked by.

You didn’t see the way he looked after you as you reached the top of the stairs before you headed back down, nor did you see the way he glared at Seomi. Back downstairs, you took up your previous spot beside Yumi. “Everything okay?” Yumi murmured as you grabbed the blanket on her lap and pulled some of it over you while nodding.

Soon, the parents were rounding everyone up to play charades. You were put on a team with Yumi, Yunho, Seomi, Gunho, and Mr. and Mrs. Jeong. You weren’t entirely in the game and after the first round, you excused yourself, getting up and heading upstairs with the excuse that you had a headache.

Only a few minutes later, Yumi joined you, asking once again if you were okay. You lied and said you were and that you just wanted to rest and get some shut eye because of your headache. She offered to get you some water and aspirin which you thanked her for.

Once you took the medicine and drank some of the water, you settled down in your bed and closed your eyes, drowning out the sound of excited yelling downstairs.

At some point, you passed out and when you awoke, your phone told you it was nearly midnight. You heard Yumi groan as she rolled over. “Really? This is a family vacation,” you heard her grumble in the dark. It was then you were made aware of the squeaking sounds and slight knocking that you assumed was from a bedframe hitting the wall and you felt your stomach churn.

It sounded like it was coming from the next room over which was… Yunho and Seomi’s room.

“Gross,” Yumi grumbled. You pulled back the covers and got up slowly. Yumi turned over and looked at you from the moonlight filtering between the curtains. “Where are you going?” she asked suspiciously. “Water,” you croaked, grabbing your empty glass and got up, pushing open the door and shutting it behind you out of respect.

In the hall the sounds were a little louder and you hurried down to the first floor, trying not to imagine what exactly was happening in the room next to yours only to freeze upon seeing Yunho standing in the kitchen, light from the fridge illuminating his figure. He turned and noticed you standing in the darkness.

“Hey,” he said softly. You forced yourself to move, walking around him to the sink. “I thought you were…” you trailed off as he grabbed the milk out of the fridge and moved to pour some over his cereal sitting on the counter. He put the carton back and shut the door before moving to turn on the light over the sink. “Thought I was what?” he asked, grabbing a spoon and sitting at the counter.

You shook your head and moved to get some ice from the fridge. “I heard noises,” you admitted. Yunho snorted and you turned to face him. “That’s coming from my aunt and uncle’s room,” he admitted. It woke me up and so I thought I’d come down here and have some cereal,” he added.

“Hoped they might be done by the time I finish and head back.”

You nodded and turned away to get some water. Silence fell over the two of you as you sipped on your water and Yunho ate his cereal. Finally he spoke, breaking the tension. “You’ve really grown up,” he muttered and you looked up to find him staring down at his bowl.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he added with a chuckle. “I was going to say your boyfriend is a lucky guy until it was revealed earlier that you don’t have one,” he continued. You said nothing instead holding your glass firmly as he continued to eat his cereal.

The only sounds that could be heard were the heater working to keep the house warm, the crunch of Yunho’s cereal and the slight squeaking and knocking coming from upstairs. “You really don’t have a boyfriend?” he asked finally, looking up. You shook your head.

“No,” you replied.

More silence followed your admission. You fought the urge to add that no man ever compared to him but you knew that would be crossing a line and you could never come back from that. Better to just let it go and move on. Let him propose to Seomi in peace and move on with his life and be happy.

He deserved that.

“What about a girlfriend?” he asked, throwing you completely off guard. He looked up to meet your gaze. You stared back at him in stunned silence. ‘Girlfriend? Did he think you were…?’ You shook your head. “N-no,” you replied. Yunho shrugged. “I wouldn’t judge you if you did,” he added.

You shook your head more firmly. “No,” you replied. “It’s not like that,” you continued. “I’m just not interested in anyone right now.”

‘Anyone who isn’t you.’

“Oh.” Yunho said, getting up from his seat. He’d finished his cereal and the sounds upstairs had finally subsided. How long had you been standing there in silence? How much time had passed since you came downstairs?

Yunho stopped in front of you, reaching around to place his bowl in the sink. “So there’s really no one?” he asked softly. You shook your head, looking up at him. He smiled softly. “Good,” he said firmly, making you tilt your head slightly.

“Boys suck,” he added and you couldn’t help but laugh at this. It was a sound Yunho hadn’t heard in a long time. A sound that he didn’t realize he missed dearly. How much of a fool he’d been for trying to stay away from you these last few years.

“We saw you today,” you blurted out suddenly, taking both yourself and Yunho by surprise.

“Saw me?” he asked. “Where?”

You’d already blurted it out, you might as well be honest.

“In a jewelry shop,” you answered. “Yumi wanted to look at something in there and we saw you and Seomi. She was looking at rings…” your voice trailed off. Yunho stared at you, unable to read your expression. “I was looking for a gift for my mother for Christmas,” he admitted.

You suddenly felt very small and stupid for saying anything. “Of course,” you answered. “Sorry for assuming,” you said softly before downing your water and turning away. Yunho grabbed your arm gently. “Seomi assumed as much, too,” he admitted. “She thought we were there for that as well.”

You looked down at his hand gently but firmly holding your arm. “That’s why she was looking at rings but I told her I wasn’t planning on proposing any time soon and that I was there to buy a gift for my mother, and that’s when she got upset. That’s why she was so distant at lunch,” he added.

You nodded silently. He didn’t need to tell you any of this. Why was he telling you this? Yunho let go of your arm. “Sorry,” he apologized suddenly. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” he added. “Maybe it’s because I’ve always felt comfortable with you.”

You glanced up at him, finding him already staring down at you, the dim light over the sink casting him in a low glow. “I’ve always found it easy to talk to you,” he added, stepping closer and closing the distance between you, trapping you against the counter.

“I’ve always felt like I could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge me,” he explained softly, resting his hands against the edge of the counter on either side of your waist. “Like I could be myself and you’d accept me.” Your heart was hammering in your chest, blood pounding in your ears and almost drowning out his words.

Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned closer, his lips inches from yours.

A door opening upstairs broke the silence and Yunho took a step back immediately. “I should probably get back to bed,” he said as he turned away from you. “We have a busy day tomorrow,” he added. You watched as he turned to glance back at you before turning away and heading for the stairs, leaving you in the kitchen clutching your water glass as you stared after him.

‘What the fuck just happened?’

——————————————————————————————————————————

The following morning was the ski trip and you were dreading going to begin with. You weren’t the best with athletic activities, especially in the snow but Yumi had begged and begged the night before while you lay in your beds until you finally caved.

Now as you were in the back of the van with Yumi and Haneul, you were regretting your decision and would have rather stayed at the lodge and done nothing. The ride to the ski lodge wasn’t far thankfully for those that wanted to go skiing but unfortunately for you.

You chose to try skiing with Yumi, Haneul, Yumi’s mother, and Haneul’s mother. Kang-min chose to ski instead of snowboarding with his brother and the others. As you strapped in, you glanced up to where Yunho was helping Seomi into her snowboard boots, making sure they fit.

You were finishing strapping your ski boots on when Yumi sat next to you. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” she asked, a little louder than you would have liked. Yunho and Kang-min both looked up. “You begged me to do this,” you hissed back. Yumi nodded thoughtfully. “And I’ve thought about it but I remembered you aren’t the most coordinated on snow or ice.”

You glared at her, cheeks burning. “It’s fine,” you hissed. “You begged me to come and now we’re here. I’m not backing down now and ruining the mood.”

You got up and walked over to the instructor to get your skis. You weren’t sure why all of the sudden Yumi was asking if you wanted to do this when she was begging you the night before.

Once everyone had the correct gear and was ready, you headed outside and over to the lift that would take you to the top of the slopes. There was an orange partition between the two sides. One side was where the skiers were, to the right the more advanced skiers were flying down the hill whereas to the left, closest to the orange fencing, was where the beginners were.

On the snowboarding side it was almost the same set up but mirrored. You rode the lift up with Yumi and Haneul, holding onto your ski poles nervously as the lift climbed higher and higher. Behind you sat Yunho and Seomi with Gunho and in front of you was the twins and Haneul’s mother.

Your best friend’s mother chose to stay at the lodge for the time being.

Once at the top, you scooted off the lift and awkwardly shambled over to the side to wait for the instructor. Kang-min skied over and stopped beside you. “You okay?” he asked softly. You nodded, staring at the slope. “Just take it little by little,” he offered.

“You will fall,” he added. “But it doesn’t hurt. The snow is really soft.” You watched as he patted the snow with his ski. “Very powdery. Good skiing conditions.” You smiled at him as the instructor finally arrived. You watched as he explained the basics and let Yumi and Kang-min go first.

“Go slowly,” the instructor said as you moved to the edge of the summit. “Take your time.” You finally took the plunge, pushing yourself over the edge and started sliding down the slope to the first stop. The instructor joined you, commending your form but telling you to uncross your skis.

You tried again, heading down to the next part, cursing as your skis crossed again.

This continued until you reached the bottom.

“You’re doing really well,” the instructor said. “But you keep crossing your skis,” he added with a chuckle. “It’s so weird to try and hold them straight,” you admitted. He nodded as he started towards the lift. “You wanna go again?” he asked.

You weren’t looking at him. Instead you were watching Jang-min slide down the slope next to the one you’d just skied down on his snowboard. “Could I switch?” you asked, turning your head. “Maybe snowboarding might be better for me.” The instructor nodded and beckoned you to follow him back to the lodge and inside where you removed your skis and boots. He brought over a pair of snow boots to check the fit before helping you lace them up and make sure they were snug.

Afterwards, he grabbed the snowboard and handed it to you. “You can put it on at the top,” he said before grabbing his own board, having also switched the skis out. The ride up was silent as you looked around. Yunho and Seomi were at the top, off to the side chatting. When you reached the top, you hopped off the lift and walked over to Jang-min who smiled at you.

“Changed your mind, eh?” he asked as you set the board down and stepped on, watching the instructor make sure your boots were secure. “I couldn’t keep my skis straight,” you admitted with a grimace. “You joined us?” Yunho asked, scooting up to the other side. You nodded as Seomi also joined. “Alright, you three go ahead. I’m sure she doesn’t want you watching her as she goes down,” the instructor said, waving them on.

You watched as they took turns. Jang-min went first and you could see he’d done this plenty of times before. Seomi went next, looking every bit as graceful as Yumi did on skis. Yunho went next, stopping at the peak to look back at you. He gave you a salute. “See you at the bottom!”

You watched as he went next and you were in awe. You had no idea Yunho was so skilled at snowboarding, pulling tricks you’d only ever seen on TV. You were suddenly very aware that it was your turn next. The instructor had you go first and you half expected to lose your balance and tumble but you were surprised how much easier this was than skiing.

It didn’t take you long to get the hang of it and soon you were zooming past the instructor as he laughed. “You’re a natural at this!” Jang-min complimented as you joined him at the base of the slope. He held up his hand for a high five and you reciprocated as the instructor checked his watch. “I have a class soon,” he announced, looking up at you. “Will you be alright on your own now?” he asked.

“Yeah, she’s got us,” Jang-min said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“We’ll keep an eye on her!”

And just like that, you were no longer in need of an instructor. You spent most of the time with Jang-min who was content to join you on the beginner slopes while Yunho and Seomi continued down the intermediate side. Kang-min eventually swapped his skis for a snowboard as well and joined the two of you, taking turns between you and Jang-min

Half the morning had gone by and you were really getting the hang of snowboarding. Yunho called break time and the group headed into the lodge for lunch, shedding your gear by the door. You ordered half a sandwich and a cup of soup, sitting next to Jang-min and Yumi as you excitedly told your success story to your best friend. “Maybe I’ll switch too,” she said with a smile.

“You’ve never even stepped foot on a snowboard,” Gunho said with a snort. Yumi glowered at him. “Neither had Y/N before today,” she snapped back. You nodded. “There’s no way I believe that,” Yunho said suddenly from the other side of the twins. “You’re a natural at this.”

Your cheeks grew warm at his compliments and you busied yourself with your soup. “She really is,” Kang-min chimed in, looking at you with a smile. “Skiing didn’t seem to be your strong suit but snowboarding definitely is.”

Heat spread from your cheeks to your ears at the sudden increase of praise thrown your way. Although you typically hated attention, you had to admit that it felt nice to be praised like this from time to time.

After eating, you sat by one of the fires, warming up while letting your food settle.

“I think Kang-min likes you,” Yumi said softly as she sat next to you. Glancing up at your best friend you knitted your brows together. “What?” you asked incredulously. She smirked at you, settling back in the seat beside you. “Kang-min. He’s been all over you today,” she said softly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” You shook your head slowly.

“Not really,” you admitted. You glanced over where Kang-min sat with his twin, playing a card game with Gunho and Yunho. You looked away quickly and turned back to your friend. “I’m sure he doesn’t,” you replied finally. Yumi shook her head. “He’s totally into you,” she whispered as Haneul walked over and sat on the ottoman in front of your chair.

“Who’s into who?” she whispered, looking between the two of you. Shaking your head, you tried to play it off but Yumi jumped at the chance to get a second opinion. “Kang-min,” she said flatly under her breath. “I’m pretty sure he’s into Y/N.” Haneul’s brows rose and she looked at you quickly.

“He is?” she asked, more to you than to your best friend. You shook your head. “I think Yumi is imagining things,” you replied. Your best friend groaned softly and turned to face you. “You want me to go ask him?” she asked and you slapped her leg. “No,” you hissed. “I don’t want you to ask your cousin if he’s into me. That’s so weird!” you hissed.

Yumi shrugged and looked at Haneul. “I don’t think it’s that weird but okay,” she replied.

After warming up for a bit, the group decided to head back out again. You pulled your gear back on, slipping into your feet into your boots. As you were lacing them up, Yunho knelt down by your feet. “Make this a little tighter,” he murmured, undoing your work and redoing the laces. “You want it to be completely tight and snug. Otherwise you could twist your ankle, get blisters, or even break your ankle” he explained.

“Th-thanks,” you murmured as he looked up at you with a smile. “No problem,” he said, getting up and heading outside. You stood up, following him with Jang-min and Kang-min behind you. You decided to ride up with the twins while Yumi and Haneul rode up behind you with Haneul’s mother.

At the top, you waited for Jang-min to go first before following him. You wanted to ease back into it so you went a little slower. Kang-min flew past you laughing as he made a beeline for his brother, making you chuckle as you finally reached the bottom.

You headed back up, this time letting both Kang-min and Jang-min go first before you started down the hill with Yunho waiting at the top. You decided to go down the big slope like before and were gaining momentum when your eyes caught sight of something sticking out of the snow. Before you could evade, your board struck whatever it was and you went tumbling down with a yelp.

“Y/N!” you heard Kang-min yell. Your ankle was throbbing as you tried to roll over. “Y/N!” said a panicked voice. “Are you hurt?” You groaned in pain as they grabbed your arm and pulled you up into a sitting position. “My ankle,” you groaned, the pain shooting up your leg from your ankle.

You felt someone fumbling with your helmet before pulling it off. You looked up, squinting in the bright light at Yunho as he set your helmet aside and looked you over. “You didn’t hit your head did you?” he asked. You shook your head. His hands moved down to unclasp your boots from the snowboard.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked as Seomi came to a stop nearby. “Is she alright?” she asked. Yunho waved her to go on. “I got this, babe!” he called as he looked up at you. “Which ankle hurts?” You pointed to your right foot. Yunho was quick, calling for Kang-min and Jang-min to get your gear on their second pass down before unlatching his own snowboard.

“I’m gonna carry you down to the lodge,” he announced. “Come on.”

He knelt down, back facing you so you could climb on. You were hesitant but in the end, you leaned against his back, allowing him to pick you up and carry you on his back down the mountain. You heard Yumi call your name from the base of the ski slope and looked over.

“What happened?” she called as she made her way over. “She took a tumble,” Yunho called back. “I’m taking her inside.” Your cheeks burned as Yunho carried you into the lodge. You were carried inside and taken to the side where Yunho gently set you down and guided you to sit on one of the stools against the side wall. You did as he instructed, watching as he unlaced and carefully pulled your boot off.

Yumi had removed her gear and was moving to sit beside you as Yunho pulled your sock off. “Don’t you think a medic should look at her?” Kang-min asked, peering over his cousin’s shoulder at your ankle. “What do you think I went to school for?” Yunho huffed as he carefully rolled your ankle.

Seomi was standing nearby, arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t look happy.

“Without x-rays,” Yunho started as you winced. “I can’t say for certain but it seems to be sprained,” he said softly. He rolled your ankle in the opposite direction and you let out a whimper. “Sorry,” he said softly. “But it’s definitely sprained at the very least.

You watched as he pressed against the joint gingerly. “I don’t feel any popping,” he murmured. “Can you move it yourself?” he asked, smiling slightly when you were able to roll your ankle yourself. “It’s definitely not broken,” he finally said. “We’re gonna need to stabilize it,” he added.

Jang-min hurried off to find an employee and ask for the first-aid kit. They returned and Yunho looked through it. “There’s nothing in here to stabilize it,” he murmured as he sifted through the contents. “Does it need to be stabilized?” Yumi asked as her brother looked around. He nodded.

“It really should be so she doesn’t hurt it any further,” he answered. “Will this work?” you heard Yumi’s mother ask and looked up as she pulled out a wooden stick from her purse. “It’s a back scratcher,” she explained. Yunho smiled up at his mother. “This is perfect,” he said. “Thanks, mom.”

You watched as Yunho worked, using the scratcher to stabilize your ankle, wrapping the joint with as much gauze as he could before taping it off and covering the whole thing with your sock. “She should probably go back to the lodge,” he added as he cleaned up his mess. “I can take her back,” he offered, looking up at Yumi who shook her head. “I’ll do it,” she replied.

“You should stay,” you interjected. “I don’t want you to miss out because of me,” you replied softly. Yumi waved her hand. “Nonsense,” she replied. “I don’t care. You’re my best friend. I’d be a horrible friend if I stayed while you went back to the lodge alone. Besides, I’m done skiing anyway,” she added.

Yumi turned to her mother who offered to drive back anyone who was done for the day. Haneul agreed to finish for the day as did her mother. The twins, Gunho, Seomi, and Yunho agreed to stay and Yunho would drive back when they were done.

Yunho helped you out to the van and to get in with Yumi’s help. “Don’t put any pressure on it until I can properly wrap it. Make sure to ice it for twenty minutes. Then put heat on it for twenty. Back and forth with the temperatures,” he instructed before closing the door and backing up to watch the van reverse.

You watched him until the van turned and he disappeared from your view. “Are you feeling okay?” Yumi’s voice asked softly from beside you. You turned to look at her and nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted. “It doesn’t hurt that much now.”

The ride back was silent as you stared out the window of the van, watching the scenery change and pass by. It felt like no time at all had passed when you were pulling up to the lodge. Yumi and Haneul very carefully helped you out of the van, helping you up the steps into the lodge and Yumi made sure you got upstairs to your shared room. Yumi took a shower first, cleaning off before coming out.

“The others are back so you might want to take your shower now before they do and all the hot water is gone,” she announced. You got up and limped over to the door with your toiletry bag, towels, and clean clothes. As you limped towards the bathroom door, the bedroom to Yunho and Seomi’s room opened and Seomi exited, glaring at you as she exited and walked down the hall with an annoyed huff, entering the bathroom and slamming the door.

You let out a sigh and started to turn back to the bedroom when Yunho appeared. “Oh, Seomi just went in there,” he said, noticing your toiletry bag and towels. You nodded. “I know,” you replied. “She rushed past me to get there,” you admitted. Yunho frowned at your words. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “You can go before me,” he offered. “Thanks,” you murmured and started to make your way back.

“How’s your ankle?” he asked, looking down. “S’okay,” you shrugged. “The gauze seems to be coming loose.” Yunho nodded silently, looking back up. “After your shower, I’ll wrap it again. We stopped on the way back to get some stuff from a pharmacy,” he explained. “Thanks,” you mumbled and limped back to your shared room with Yumi who frowned as you entered the room.

“I thought you were going to shower,” she said as you hobbled over to your bed and collapsed onto it. “Seomi beat me to it,” you muttered, rolling onto your side, facing the wall. “That bitch,” you heard your best friend grumble and rolled back to look at her. “I thought you liked her,” you said.

Yumi shrugged. “I did but when I saw the way she glared at you when Yunho was carrying you into the lodge, it just rubbed me the wrong way. And when I was walking back here, I could hear them arguing. It wasn’t very loud but I could still hear it,” she explained.

“Then you were in the hall, holding your bathroom stuff and she just walks in there cause she’s not slowed down by an injury. That makes her a bitch.” You snorted and rolled back to face the wall, closing your eyes. Maybe you would just wait until everyone else had gone so you wouldn’t be in the way.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before Yumi was gently shaking you awake. “Seomi is done in the shower,” she said softly. “And I think they’re fighting again so hurry up and get to the bathroom before someone else does.”

You scrambled to get up and hurried out of the room as fast as your ankle would let you, passing the door to Yunho and Seomi’s room which was ajar and like Yumi had said, you could hear them bickering back and forth. Seomi definitely sounded angry but Yunho was surprisingly calm.

You dared not stay and eavesdrop and instead hobbled down to the bathroom. You closed the door behind you and turned the lock before moving to start the shower and undress, unwrapping your ankle and setting the gauze and backscratcher aside before stepping into the scalding water with a sigh.

You went about your business, washing off the events of the day and allowing the hot water to soothe any aches and tense muscles in your body. After you were finished washing and you had rinsed the last of the conditioner from your hair, you stepped out of the shower, wrapped yourself in a towel and started to dry off.

You sat on the toilet, lid down, so you could dry off without putting unnecessary pressure on your swollen ankle. Once your body was dry, you pulled on your clean clothes, snatching up the dirty ones and carefully started to hobble back to your room.

Once inside, you tossed your dirty clothes in the hamper in the room and sat on the bed, starting to dry your hair with the extra towel. Yumi had disappeared, no doubt downstairs. You wondered if you should make the journey downstairs for dinner but one look at your ankle told you that was a bad idea.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knocking at the door. You turned as the door cracked open and Yunho peered in. “Is it okay to come in?” he asked and you nodded, watching as he pushed the door open further and came in, holding in his hand an ankle brace.

“I got this at the pharmacy,” he said as he moved to kneel in front of you. “You already got your socks on, good,” he noted as he carefully took your foot and inspected it. “Does it still hurt?” he asked, looking up at you. Shaking your head you looked down at his hands.

“Just when you put weight on it?” he asked. You nodded wordlessly. “Good,” he noted with a nod. “Means it’s not as severe as I initially thought.” You said nothing as he put the brace around your ankle, making sure to strap it tightly. “There,” he said softly. “You should have no problems walking,” he added as he looked up at you. “But just be careful. You should rest before dinner,” he continued.

You nodded silently as he got up and moved towards the door. “And sorry again about Seomi,” he added quietly. “Sometimes she’s… a little tough,” he said, hesitating for a moment. “Get some rest,” he repeated. “See you at dinner.”

You watched as he exited, pulling the door shut behind him.

You were left alone for only a moment when the door opened and Yumi entered, Haneul and Kang-min on her heels. “Are you okay?” Kang-min asked, sitting beside you on your bed. You nodded. “I’m fine,” you replied. “It’s just a little sore at this point.”

The four of you froze as you heard a slam next door followed by muffled shouting. Haneul moved to close the door, drowning out some of the noise. “I don’t think they’re gonna last,” Haneul murmured, moving to sit on Yumi’s bed. “And good riddance if they don’t,” Yumi muttered, drawing Haneul and Kang-min’s attention.

“I thought you liked her,” Haneul whispered, looking shocked. “I did until she cut Y/N in line for the shower,” Yumi grumbled. “She’s also weirdly overly possessive of Yunho. She got mad at Y/N because Yunho was carrying her after she got hurt,” Yumi explained. “Like, what did she want her to do? It’s not like Y/N could walk.” Their words fell to the back of your mind as you zoned out.

You were feeling tired from the events of the day and yawned. “Are you tired?” Haneul asked, noticing. “Do you want to nap?” Kang-min added. You nodded. “Yeah, sorry guys. I’m just really worn out.” Kang-min immediately got up as did Haneul and Yumi. “We’ll go talk outside. You get some rest. I’ll wake you up when dinner is ready,” she said softly as the other opened the door and exited.

You thanked Yumi and laid back down as she shut the light off and closed the door with a soft click. Not long after, you were out like the light.

Yunho closed the door and started for the stairs. He was getting sick of this. He was tired of the fighting and the arguments. And over what? Seomi wouldn’t even tell him why she was upset, only that she was and that it was his fault. How could he apologize for something if he didn’t even know what he did?

At first, he gave in and apologized the other night after the drinking game just to keep the peace but this time around, he wasn’t going to apologize until she told him why he was apologizing. He reached the bottom of the stairs and noticed Yumi, Haneul, the twins, and Gunho sitting outside around the firepit.

He walked over, pulling open the door and stepped out. Whatever conversation they were having died the moment he stepped outside. “I think I’m gonna help mom with dinner,” Haneul muttered, getting up and walking past Yunho and back inside. The twins exchanged looks and got up. “I think dad said something about needing help with firewood,” Kang-min said to Jang-min who nodded.

They disappeared inside the house and Yunho was left with his siblings sitting quietly as they avoided eye contact with him. Yunho looked between them before moving to sit down. He glanced back at the door first before speaking. “Alright,” he started.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Why are they avoiding me?”

Yumi glanced at Gunho who looked back at her and shrugged. Yumi narrowed her eyes at her younger brother before sighing. “It’s because of your girlfriend,” she replied. “Because of Seomi?” Yunho asked. “What? Why?” Yumi sighed again, looking towards Gunho for help but the younger merely shrugged again. “You’re no help,” she snapped.

“Seomi is kind of…” Yumi trailed off. “A bitch,” Gunho mumbled, earning a smack from Yumi. “She’s kind of a lot to handle. She’s been pretty nasty to Y/N for no reason,” Yumi clarified. Yunho looked between his siblings. “What are you talking about?” he asked. Yumi sighed heavily.

“First time I noticed it was during the drinking game. I think when you chose Y/N as your mate, Seomi got mad which I don’t know why. If you had picked her, she was gonna have to drink every time you did,” Gunho mumbled, picking at his sleeve. Yunho snorted.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t pick her. I didn’t want her to have to drink every time I did.” Yumi nodded, shifting in her seat. “And we get that. Hell, even Y/N gets that but Seomi must have thought you were picking Y/N because you like her or something which is, again, dumb. Y/N is my best friend and you’re my brother. If it hasn’t happened already, it’s probably never going to happen,” Yumi said softly.

Yunho forced a smile.

It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it before; being with you. There was something different about you. Something Yumi’s other friends lacked. You were funny, intelligent, confident, and you didn’t really seem to take shit from anyone. You had your head on your shoulders which was more than Yunho could have said for some of Yumi’s other friends at the time.

Yunho was also well aware of the fact that he was your first crush, possibly even your first love, though he never actually heard it from you directly. He had only heard it second hand from a friend of his who claims to have somehow overheard you telling someone else. Someone who wasn’t Yumi.

When he initially heard it, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. You had never made it obvious that you liked him so he thought maybe his friend was pranking him. After all, he was in high school and you were still in middle school at the time, but he would be lying if it didn’t cross his mind again when you finally started high school. Or when you came back from your first year of college. He never wanted to cross that line, in case you had moved on and gotten over your crush.

If it was even true to begin with.

Despite whether or not your feelings for him were real, his for you were definitely real. So he forced himself to move on, forced himself to date people who weren’t you and hoped that by doing so, he might actually get over the silly feelings that lingered in the back of his mind. Only it didn’t actually work.

When he brought his first college girlfriend home for winter break, he was certain he’d managed to move on but when he saw you coming out of Yumi’s room, all grown up yourself, his confidence that he’d finally managed to move on soared out the window.

He was back to square one.

It was after this that he stopped coming home during breaks as often and focused more on spending time with his friends. He and his girlfriend at the time had broken up after that trip, and it wasn’t until Yunho met Seomi that things seemed to start getting easier.

Whether that was because you weren’t around or because of Seomi herself, he couldn’t say for sure.

His relationship was far from perfect but he really did like Seomi. He thought he might even love her but when he saw you show up at the airport for the trip, he knew he was screwed. He couldn’t tell if your indifference towards him was because you’d truly moved on or if it was you trying to avoid him.

He just didn’t know. And how could he when the two of you barely spoke this trip. You had seemed uninterested in him, in what he’d become and done with his life. He thought if you were really past it, then maybe he could actually move on with Seomi but his resolve was further put to the test when you injured yourself. He was down the slope before you even fully came to a stop.

He had been mid conversation with Seomi one second and the next he was rushing down the slope to get to you. To make sure you were okay. He could chalk it up to being a concerned physician but he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. It was clear from the moment you showed up at the airport that he wasn’t truly over you and he might never be.

“She also got too excited when she thought Y/N had fucked up on the Christmas movies and then again when you took Y/N’s side,” Gunho continued, pulling Yunho out of his thoughts in time to see Yumi nodding. Yunho laughed this time, surprising both his siblings.

“Because Y/N was right. Die Hard is a Christmas movie. Just because it’s not some cheesy Hallmark movie doesn’t mean it doesn’t count,” he explained.

“And then again today,” Gunho continued, ignoring his brother. “When Y/N got hurt and you carried her into the lodge, Seomi looked pissed,” he added, looking at Yumi who nodded again. “I saw that firsthand. It’s stupid. It’s not like Y/N could walk. She just twisted her ankle. She was injured.”

Yunho shook his head. “Why would she be mad at that?” Yunho asked. “I’m a physician. I help injured people at work all the time!” Yumi and Gunho shrugged simultaneously. “Does she ever get really upset when you’re around other women who aren’t family?” Yumi asked.

Yunho wracked his brain. “Now that you mention it…” he trailed off, noticing the way Yumi and Gunho exchanged glances. “And she’s been upset most of this trip because you’ve been around a girl who isn’t family. Picking her in a drinking game, helping her when she got injured, picking her side when she was right about something,” Gunho listed. “She’s clearly jealous of Y/N,” he added.

“Why would she need to be jealous?” Yunho asked, looking at his younger brother. “She’s not jealous,” Yumi said, shaking her head. “She’s insecure. She thinks that Y/N could pull you and she feels threatened by her.” Yunho stared incredulously at his sister.

“Seomi is my girlfriend. Not Y/N,” he retorted. “She has no reason to be insecure. I’m with her.” Yumi shrugged. “In her mind, that doesn’t matter,” Yumi replied. “In her mind, you’re going to leave her for someone better. Someone like Y/N.”

Yunho’s heart skipped a beat but he played it off with a scoff, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s just dumb,” he muttered. “Has Seomi said anything?” Yumi asked, Gunho turning to look at his older brother with mild interest. Yunho shook his head. “No,” he answered. “She’s upset, I know that, but when I ask why, she refuses to tell me. She just wants me to apologize. I did the first time, but I’m not apologizing again until she tells me why.”

Yunho watched Yumi shake her head. “She’s expecting you to read her mind which is never going to happen. She…” Yumi trailed off, averting her eyes to the firepit. “She what?” Yunho asked. Yumi looked back up. “She sounds exhausting and to be honest, I think you deserve better. You deserve someone who isn’t going to treat you like this.”

Yunho’s brow rose at Yumi’s admission. He looked to Gunho who said nothing, instead staring blankly into the fire. “You think Seomi and I should break up?” Yunho asked. Yumi nodded. “As your sister, yes. I think you two aren’t good for one another. But in the end, what I think doesn’t matter. What matters is what you think. It’s your relationship after all,” she replied.

Yunho watched as Yumi got up and walked around the firepit towards the door. “You have to think about what makes you happy though, Yunho. Not what makes other people happy.”

Without another word, Yumi opened the door and entered the house, leaving Yunho and Gunho by the fire. Yunho turned to the younger who sighed and got to his feet as well. “I’m getting a little chilly out here,” he announced. “See you inside,” he added walking past Yunho, leaving the eldest sitting there, stunned into silence.

Was this really how his family perceived his relationship? Was this how you perceived his relationship? Did everyone think he was some sort of idiot, dating Seomi without realizing the kind of person she was? Yunho sat for a moment longer outside before getting up and heading inside.

He and Seomi had some talking to do.

You woke up to total darkness, groaning softly as you rolled over.

“Morning sunshine~!” you heard your best friend say in an amused tone. You looked over to her side of the room to see she was sitting up in bed, a small light clipped to her book. “What time is it?” you grumbled, voice cracking. “Like eight,” Yumi answered, checking her watch for verification. “Did I miss dinner?” you asked looking back at her. She nodded, turning on her bedside lamp, casting a dim yellow light around the room.

“But I brought you food~!” Yumi said in a sing-song voice, getting up as she set her book aside. On your bedside table was a plate covered with another plate. “We just finished so it should still be kinda warm,” Yumi said as she got up and walked over. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I brought a bit of everything.”

You looked up at your best friend with sparkling eyes. “Thank you,” you whispered as she uncovered the plate and handed it to you. “It looks so good,” you said, holding back the urge to groan. Yumi snickered at your reaction, picking up the utensils and handing them to you.

“Just eat, you weirdo,” she mumbled, patting the top of your head and moving back to grab her book. Instead of getting back in her bed, she moved over to climb into yours, snuggling up next to you as you ate. “You want me to read to you?” she asked, looking up. You nodded as you took a bite.

You ate in silence as Yumi read aloud from her book.

As you were finishing your food, you could hear hushed voices on the other side of the wall. They grew in intensity and you could tell it was Yunho and Seomi. You glanced at your best friend who had stopped reading to listen, her eyes meeting yours.

“Wonder what they’re fighting about,” you murmured, turning back to your food. “Probably because Yunho offered to bring you dinner earlier,” Yumi muttered nonchalantly. You turned to look at her. “What?” you asked. Yumi looked up at you. “Yeah. You were sleeping so I didn’t wake you and then the twins asked where you were so I said you were asleep and I didn’t want to bother you ‘cause of your ankle. So Yunho offered to bring your food to you, like I’m not sharing a room with you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Seomi’s been mad at him for other things too but I think this just kind of set her off.”

As soon as Yumi said that, you both jumped as you heard a door slam shut and someone stomping down the stairs. You looked at Yumi who looked back just as wide-eyed. “What was that?” you wondered out loud. Yumi shrugged and got up as the door to Yunho and Seomi’s room opened and more footsteps were heard running down the stairs before the front door opened.

Yumi rushed over to the window to see what the commotion was. “It’s Seomi and Yunho!” she whisper-shouted at you. “What are they doing?” you asked. “I think they’re yelling,” she replied. “Standby.” She set her book aside and carefully unlocked and opened the window a crack.

The distant voices of Yunho and Seomi could be heard arguing but you couldn’t discern what they were saying. “You’re being unreasonable,” Yumi whispered to you. “That was Yunho.”

“I’m not being unreasonable. You’re the one that’s in love with someone else,” Yumi continued to whisper the entire conversation to you. “I wonder who she’s talking about.”

“I’m not in love with her! How many times do I have to say it?”

“It’s written all over your face. You’re bad at hiding it. You’ve probably been cheating on me with her--”

Yumi frowned. “Oh hell no,” she hissed, pushing the window open some more. “Yumi!” you hissed, throwing a pillow towards her but falling short. “Hey!” Yumi yelled out the window. “People are trying to sleep here! Take your lover’s quarrel somewhere else!” Yumi shouted.

“Stay out of this, Yumi!” you heard Yunho’s voice shout.

“I’m trying to sleep!” another voice shouted out the window and you recognized it as Gunho.

“Stop shouting! People are sleeping!” yet another voice shouted.

“They’re getting in the car,” Yumi whispered to you, watching the van no doubt drive off into the forest before she turned to look at you, shutting the window. “I wonder where they’re going,” Yumi continued as she moved back to your bed. “Who knows,” you muttered, resuming picking at your food. Yumi noticed and sat up. “Are you done eating?” she asked softly. You nodded and thanked her as she took the plate.

“What are friends for if not to bring you food and take the plate away when your leg is all gimpy?” she asked, chuckling as you cursed at her. Yumi returned and grabbed her book, moving back to her bed. “I’ll let you go back to sleep,” she said as she climbed back into bed. “Thanks, Yumi,” you said again and she smiled up at you. “Any time,” she replied, turning the light off and plunging the room back into darkness.

——————————————————————————————————————————

The next morning, you woke to a light knocking on your door. Yumi was still in bed so you weren’t sure who it could be. The door cracked open and Haneul peered in, smiling at you. “Breakfast is ready,” she announced. “Do you want to come down or if your ankle still hurts, I could bring something up?”

You shook your head. “I’ll come down,” you replied, pulling back the covers as you sat up. “Thank you, Haneul,” you added. She shut the door and you grabbed a pillow, flinging it at Yumi who whined in protest. “Breakfast is ready, dork,” you called, pushing yourself up.

Your ankle wasn’t as painful today but you still couldn’t put all your weight on it.

You pulled on a pair of sweats and walked over to Yumi’s bed, grabbing your pillow and hitting her twice with it. “Come on,” you mumbled. “If I’m up, you need to be,” you said but she refused. “Get up or I’ll eat all the bacon,” you grumbled and she sat up quickly. “Don’t you dare,” she growled.

Once Yumi was dressed, you headed downstairs. Yumi waited while you took it easy, one step at a time. The rest of the family was already sitting around the table, save for Yunho. You wondered where he was and hoped he was okay.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wonder for long because Yumi asked for you.

“Where’s Yunho?”

“He’s in his room,” you heard Mrs. Jeong answer. “He had a hard time last night,” she added. You glanced over at your best friend who stared blankly at her mother. “So he made it back?” Yumi asked, drawing Mrs. Jeong’s attention. “He did,” she replied plainly.

“Alone?”

“Yumi,” Mr. Jeong said suddenly. “Knock it off. Your brother doesn’t need this right now.”

“It’s fine,” another voice said and everyone looked up to see Yunho had joined the group and was moving to sit between Gunho and his father. You looked away, busying yourself with your breakfast. It was a simple congee but you added a fried egg and some bacon to yours.

“Seomi left,” Yunho continued, addressing not only his sister but the entire table. “We broke up,” he added. “I’m sorry dear,” Mrs. Jeong said softly. Yunho forced a smile. “Why?” Jun-seo asked, looking up from his game. “It wasn’t working out anymore,” Yunho answered.

You glanced up in time to see his gaze pass over you and linger before he looked away. “Well, maybe some time in town will help,” Mr. Jeong said as he continued to eat. “We’re all going,” he added. “Dad,” Yumi said suddenly. “Y/N can’t walk. She twisted her ankle yesterday, remember?”

Mrs. Jeong nodded. “Oh, that’s right,” she said softly, looking at her husband. “I can stay here,” you said quickly. “You all go. Don’t stay back on my account. I’ll just stay in our room or something.”

Mrs. Jeong looked worriedly from you to your best friend. “Alone?” she asked. Yumi shook her head, opening her mouth to speak but Yunho beat her to it.

“I’ll stay behind,” he announced. “I’m not really feeling a trip to town. I’d actually rather stay here.” Yunho looked down at his plate while his parents exchanged glances. “Are you sure?” his mother asked. Yunho nodded, forcing another smile. “Of course,” he replied. “And who better to stay here with her than a physician?” Haneul’s father chimed in.

It was settled and after breakfast, you leaned against one of the wooden posts by the front door as the rest of the family headed out, Yumi stopping to make sure you were sure you wanted to be alone with Yunho. You nodded and told her to go have fun. Once they all piled into the vans and drove off, Yunho shut the door and turned to you. “So,” he said softly. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I’m not sure,” you replied. “But I think I want to rest upstairs.” Yunho nodded wordlessly, moving over to where you stood. “You want me to carry you or you want me to just spot you as you climb the stairs?” he asked. Your cheeks burned and you looked away from his face.

“I’ll climb the stairs,” you murmured and moved to the base. Yunho followed, making sure you got to the top safely. Once you were back in your room, he waited by the door. “If you need to go downstairs for anything,” he said, hand on the doorknob. “Just call out. I’ll get you whatever you need,” he added before leaving.

You tossed and turned in your bed, trying to will yourself to go back to sleep but you struggled. As you lay there, you could hear the wind outside pick up, howling and rattling the windows in their frames. You carefully climbed out of bed and limped over to the window, pulling back the curtain to peer out and find that snow was blowing around. ‘A snow storm?’ you wondered silently.

You headed back to your bed, grabbing your earbuds from your bag and lay back down, plugging your ears and starting some music. Closing your eyes, you let the music lull you back to sleep, thankful the music was able to drown out the whipping wind.

When you woke up again, it was darker. You checked the time and saw that it was almost 5 pm. It got dark a lot faster than it did back home and you weren’t used to it yet. You sat up, reaching up to rub your eyes before swinging your legs over the side of the bed and getting up carefully.

You limped over to the door, pulling it open to peer out into the hall. “Yunho?” you called out. You were met with silence and decided not to bother him. You decided you could make it down the steps. You’d just have to be careful. You exited the room and made your way down to the main floor, taking it one step at a time and hobbled into the kitchen to get some water.

As you were opening the cabinet, you heard the back door open and turned to find Yunho carrying an armful of firewood. “You’re up!” he said as he moved to set the firewood by the fireplace and hurried over. “Here, let me,” he said softly as he stopped behind you, easily reaching the glasses and picking one out for you. “Why didn’t you call me for help?” he asked with a chuckle.

You moved to get some water from the fridge. “I called out but you were outside so I figured I’d just be careful coming down the stairs,” you explained. Yunho removed his coat and moved to hang it up along with his scarf and hat. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Yunho asked as he moved back to where you stood.

You took a sip of water and nodded, setting the glass on the counter. Yunho stared at you, eyes searching your face. “Is it still snowing?” you asked suddenly. Yunho nodded wordlessly. “Yeah,” he finally said. “My dad called,” he added. “Said if the snow doesn’t stop soon, they might have to stay in town.” Your heart jumped at the thought of having the entire place alone with Yunho.

“So we’ll be here,” you said plainly. Yunho nodded, looking at you but not quite seeing you. “Alone,” you added to which he continued to nod. Silence fell over the two of you but it wasn’t awkward. It was full of tension though. After a few moments, you finally broke the quiet.

“Sorry about Seomi,” you whispered. Yunho’s snapped up to meet yours. “What?” he asked softly. You cleared your throat before speaking again. “I’m sorry about Seomi.” Once you clarified what you said, Yunho’s expression softened. “It’s alright,” he replied. “It was never going to work out anyway,” he added.

“Why do you say that?” you asked curiously. Yunho smiled more to himself than to you.

“I think deep down, she was just a replacement for something,” he explained. “Or rather for someone.”

You watched him carefully as he no doubt was thinking to himself. “What do you mean?” Yunho looked up at you, lips parted but before he could say anything, your phone rang in your pocket. You sighed, pulling the device out. The screen read Yumi’s name and you held up a finger. “Hold that thought.”

You swiped the answer button and held the phone to your ear. “Hello?” you asked.

“Y/N, it’s Yumi,” you heard your best friend say. “Yeah, what’s up?” you asked, glancing up at Yunho who was leaning against the counter across from you, a small distance between you as he watched you carefully. “The locals said the storm isn’t stopping any time soon,” Yumi started.

“We’re gonna have to stay in the town tonight,” she continued. Your heart started to hammer in your chest. You were going to be all alone tonight. Alone with him. With Yunho. You glanced up at him, his expression growing more and more concerned. “Okay,” you managed to squeak out.

“Be safe. And hopefully we’ll see you in the morning,” you added. “Oh,” Yumi said suddenly. “Dad said to tell Yunho to bring in more firewood in case the power goes out up there. The stoves are gas so you should be fine on that.”

You nodded though your best friend couldn’t see you. “Got it,” you answered. “Be safe,” you repeated. Yumi repeated the sentiment and hung up and you set your phone down on the counter. “That was Yumi,” you started to explain. “She said the storm isn’t going to let up until tomorrow,” you continued.

Yunho nodded, waiting for you to go on. “She said they’re staying in town so we’re on our own tonight.” Yunho seemed to relax visibly. “And she said your dad said to bring more firewood in the house, just in case the power goes out.” Yunho nodded towards the fireplace. “I brought in three armfuls,” he explained. “That should be enough,” he added.

You nodded slowly as the conversation with Yumi started to fade away. “So,” you said softly. “What were you going to say before Yumi called?” You swore you saw a mild panic flash over Yunho’s face before he laughed it off. “Oh that? It’s nothing,” he murmured. “Just me rambling.”

“Forget I said anything.”

You reached forward, grabbing his wrist. “No,” you replied. He turned to look at you. “No?” he asked. You shook your head. “No, I’m not going to forget it. So just tell me.” Yunho hesitated before swallowing thickly. “Deep down, I think she was a replacement for someone,” he finally said softly.

“For who?” you asked, looking up at his eyes staring back at yours. ‘For you,’ you imagined him saying. Yunho hesitated a moment longer before speaking. “For someone I can’t have,” he finally said, your heart sinking into your stomach. You let go of him quickly and pulled back. “Oh,” you said shortly.

“I see,” you added, turning away from him. “I thought…” you trailed off. ‘Don’t,’ you told yourself. ‘Don’t do that. Don’t tell him that.’ It was Yunho’s turn to speak. “You thought what?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said quickly. Much too quickly. You hoped that like your childhood crush on him, he wouldn’t notice but you should have known better. Yunho noticed almost everything about you, even if you didn’t know it.

“Tell me,” he said softly. His voice was somewhat closer as he spoke. “What did you think?”

You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter,” you said, choking back a sob that threatened to escape.

“It does to me.”

The dam holding back your tears broke and you let out the smallest whimper, ducking your head. “Y/N?” Yunho whispered. You felt his hand on your arm as he turned you slowly. “Talk to me,” he said as you fought to not face him. “It’s n-nothing!” you stammered.

Before you could move away, Yunho turned you to face him, taking your face in his hands and making you look up, meeting his gaze. “Why are you crying?” he asked, thumbs brushing your tears away. “It’s stupid,” you sobbed. “Don’t ask me.”

Yunho leaned closer, pressing his lips against your forehead.

The action was so intimate and unexpected that it caused your brain to short circuit. “If it’s upsetting you, it’s not stupid,” Yunho whispered, lips brushing against your skin. “So, tell me.” You shook your head rather than answer.

“Is it because you thought I was talking about you?” he asked.

You froze again. ‘Did he know this whole time?’

You slowly raised your eyes to meet his brown ones. “Is that it?” he asked softly.

Without a word, you nodded, maintaining eye contact. Yunho hummed, caressing your cheek slowly.

“You idiot,” he said softly with a smile. “I was talking about you.” Your eyes widened. “You were?” you squeaked. Yunho nodded. “Of course I was. I thought I had been obvious before but I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Y/N,” he murmured.

“Y-you have?!” you squeaked again. Yunho nodded. “I tried to move on, date other people but none of them lasted because they weren’t you. God, this whole time, I wanted you. I didn’t want anyone else but I thought you’d never go for it. Yumi is your best friend and she’s my sister. Dating your best friend’s brother? She’d never allow that. She’d hate me forever if I ever hurt you. So I stayed away. I tried to forget about the way I felt about you but each time when I thought I’d made progress I would come home and see you and everything would fall back to square one.”

You stared up at him as he rambled.

“I tried so hard not to love you. To let you go and move on. I tried so fucking hard,” he said, his voice breaking as he held back tears. “But I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t go on pretending I don’t want this,” he said, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs again. “Pretending that I don’t want you,” he added.

“Pretending like I’m not completely in love with you.”

Your hands reached up to grab his shirt, pulling him down and crashing your lips against his, catching him off guard. His brief pause passed and he melted into the kiss, one hand moving to the small of your back and pulling you against him as he kissed you deeper.

You let out a quiet moan as his lips parted yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth and finding yours. Your fingers loosened their grip on his shirt as he pressed further against you. Without a word, he scooped you up, setting you on the counter before his lips were back on yours, hands wandering as he slotted himself between your thighs.

You moaned as his lips moved down the side of your neck, hands gripping your waist tightly. “God, you sound so pretty,” he murmured against your ear. “I’ve thought about what you sound like,” he continued. “Wondered what you taste like, what you feel like.”

You felt a chill run up your spine. “I’ve wanted you so bad,” Yunho continued, lips brushing against your pulse point. “So many times, I wanted to take you to my room when you were spending the night and drown in you. Pin you to the bed and make you beg for release,” he continued, groaning when you whimpered in his ear.

“What’s stopping you now?” you whispered. Yunho groaned, pulling back to take your face in his hands firmly. “Tell me you want this,” he said urgently. “Tell me you want me. I need to hear you say it.” You looked up at him, searching his face before finally answering him. “I want you,” you managed to say in a shaky voice.

Yunho let out a growl, pulling you into another kiss, parting your lips, his tongue meeting yours in a frantic dance for dominance. You started to pull at Yunho’s shirt, pulling it out of the way so you could fumble with the ties of his pants. “Wait, wait,” Yunho mumbled, grabbing your hands and halting your movement. You looked up to meet his gaze.

“What?” you asked, worried you might have done something wrong. He shook his head. “Not here,” he mumbled. “You deserve better than to be fucked in the kitchen like some cheesy porno,” he continued. You opened your mouth to protest but Yunho was gone before you could stop him.

He disappeared up the steps leaving you alone in the kitchen. You heard him rushing around on the floor above, his footsteps echoing through the floor before he started to descend the steps. You turned to look over your shoulder as he came into view, carrying an armful of blankets and pillows.

“What the--” you trailed off as he tossed the linens down in front of the fireplace before moving around behind the sofa. You watched as he pulled the sofa back, the wooden legs making a slight screech as they dragged against the wooden floor.

Next to move was the coffee table before Yunho started fumbling with the blankets and pillows. You started to move over to where he was kneeling to get a better look. As he came full into view, you could see he had created a sort of bed on the floor in front of the fireplace. You stared incredulously at him as he worked quickly before he looked up and met your gaze.

“Hey,” he pouted. “Back in the kitchen,” he ordered. You chuckled as you hobbled back over to wait for him. Once he was satisfied that the nest was comfortable enough, he was back by your side in the kitchen, guiding you back onto the counter. “Where were we?” he murmured, leaning in.

“Before you so rudely ran away?” you whispered as his lips brushed against yours. “Hey,” he whined. “I had to improvise. I didn’t want to try to force you to climb the stairs and besides,” he added, pulling back to look at you. “And if the power goes out in the middle, at least we’ll still have the fire for warmth and light,” he continued. Your hands moved up his chest to rest on his shoulders.

“Hmm,” you hummed. “We’ll have more than the fire for warmth,” you retorted. Yunho leaned in closer. “Only if you want to,” he answered. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t-” you cut him off, pulling him into a kiss, smirking internally as he groaned against your lips.

And just like that, the brief pause so he could set the mood in front of the fireplace was forgotten as you felt his hands wander, one moving to the small of your back and pulling you against him as his tongue explored your mouth again. “Fuck,” you heard him groan as he pulled back, lips trailing down the side of your neck. “Can I mark you?” he groaned, pulling away to look at you.

You nodded silently, chest heaving. “Just not my neck,” you admitted. “Yumi might see,” you added. Yunho’s fingers toyed with the hem of your tee shirt, eyes searching yours for permission to remove the article. You nodded and allowed him to pull it off you with ease. His eyes scanned your frame, taking in parts of you he’d never seen before, only imagined.

You resisted the urge to cover yourself even if you were wearing a bralette. Yunho said nothing, instead bringing a hand up, hesitating as he looked up at you through his lashes. “May I?” he asked, waiting for your consent. You nodded wordlessly, wanting to feel his hands all over. You want to feel him everywhere.

“Please,” you finally croaked out. “Please touch me.”

Yunho’s hands were on you in an instant, one cupping over your chest as the other moved to the back of your neck, pulling you into a heated kiss, one that took your breath away as he guided your movements. “Come here, angel,” he murmured, sliding his hands under your ass as he stepped away from the counter, carrying you from the kitchen to the living room.

He carefully set you on the couch before kneeling in front of you. “Tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable,” he started, looking up at you, the light from the fire dancing over the both of you. Slowly, you cupped his cheek, almost melting when he leaned into your touch.

“Don’t stop,” you simply said. “I want this. I want you,” you reminded him. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Yunho gently pulled you from the couch, sliding you under him on your back against the blankets. “God, I don’t even know where to start,” he murmured, his hips slotting between your thighs as his hands held him up. “I want to touch you everywhere, kiss you everywhere.” Your fingers fumbled with the hem of his shirt. “We have all night,” you reminded him.

“Take your time.”

Yunho did just that, kissing you slowly as one of his hands moved along your side, squeezing your hip and moving down to your thigh, pulling it against his hip and grinding against your core. You could feel the weight of his cock in his pants press against you, almost throbbing with the need to release.

“Yunho,” you moaned as he kissed down your neck to your collar. “Hmm?” he hummed against your skin. “Please touch me,” you whined. He chuckled lightly, his breath hot against your skin. “I am touching you, baby,” he replied. Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname.

Hearing it come from him was something you’d always wanted but never expected. He wasn’t holding back anymore. “Please, Yunho, please,” you begged, trying to wiggle your hips but his weight held them down. “Shush,” he mumbled, planting soft kisses against your collar. “Be patient, baby.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt Yunho’s lips move over your chest, feeling his breath through the thin material of your lacy bralette. “This is in the way,” he grumbled, pulling back and slipping his fingers under the fabric. “It needs to come off,” he added.

You allowed him to pull you up to pull the offending article off and toss it aside.

You laid back slowly, cheeks burning under his gaze as he took in even more of your form. It wasn’t an entirely new experience for you, being topless but being topless in front of your best friend’s brother who you happen to be in love with was certainly a unique experience.

“God,” he murmured, tearing his gaze from your exposed skin to look up at your face. “I’ve never told you how fucking beautiful you are, have I?” he asked, leaning down to press a kiss against your cheek. “I’ve thought about this moment a hundred different ways,” he continued, whispering into your ear.

“About what it would be like to have you underneath me like this. To have you laid bare for me,” he continued, kissing back down to your chest. “To be able to take my time and kiss your body over and over. To taste every inch of you.” You let out a gasp as you felt his tongue against your nipple, taking it into his mouth with a gentle suck. Your fingers combed through his hair as he teased the sensitive nub, his hand moving to cup your breast and knead it softly.

“Y-Yunho,” you whimpered as he pulled back, his mouth moving to the other side and repeated the same actions, taking your pert nipple in his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. Each flick had your back arching, quiet moans slipping past your lips and your panties starting to stick to you.

Yunho started to kiss down your stomach, stopping to nip at your hips. You moaned louder as he sank his teeth into your skin. “Shit, Yunho,” you gasped as he pulled back and continued kissing down to the waistband of your leggings. “May I?” he asked again and this time you nodded fervently. “Yes,” you answered quickly. “Please.”

Yunho moved slowly, pulling your leggings down past your hips before sliding them down your thighs and pulling them off completely, leaving you in your panties. Your cheeks burned as he took in the sight before him, his hands moving to your knees to hold your legs apart.

“Yunho,” you whined, closing your eyes. “Don’t stare,” you continued. You heard him chuckle softly. “This is the first time I’m seeing you like this,” he replied. “Let me savor it, baby.”

Your cheeks continued to burn under his gaze as he studied your body. Finally, his hands moved up your thighs, stopping at your hips. “Look at me,” he said softly. You did, eyes snapping open to meet his gaze. “There you are,” he added, making you whine and try to cover your face with your hands.

“Don’t,” Yunho warned, taking your wrists and pulling your hands from your face, leaning over to pin your wrists against the blankets as he hovered over you. “Don’t hide from me. Let me see all of you,” he continued, one hand moving down to your cheek before sliding over your neck, marveling at the size difference between the two of you.

“Fuck, you’re so tiny,” he murmured, fingers lightly closing around your throat. You let out a whimper and Yunho’s brows rose up quickly. “Oh?” he asked softly, squeezing just a little more, making you choke on your own words. “Really?” he asked, mildly amused. “Choking, huh? I never would have guessed.”

You tried to glare back at him but couldn’t hold the seriousness in your gaze as he squeezed gently again, your lips parting as a shameless moan slipped out, making his lips twitch as he fought against a smirk that threatened to spread across his face.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, pulling his hand from your neck. “For later,” he added as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You moaned as you felt him grind against you again, the gusset of your panties covered in your own arousal and sticking to you uncomfortably.

Yunho noticed you shifting under him and looked down at you. “Is it uncomfortable?” he asked, lifting his weight off you. Shaking your head, you grabbed him but the hips and pulled him back down, resting the weight of his cock against your core. “My panties are just…” you trailed off.

Yunho cocked his head to the side curiously. “They’re just what?” he asked almost innocently. Your cheeks and ears burned in embarrassment. “Sticky,” you finally managed to get out. Yunho said nothing, instead keeping his eyes trained on your face as he rolled his hips, grinding against you.

“Would you like me to change that?” he asked softly, maintaining eye contact. You hesitated. Did you want him to remove your panties just yet? Were you ready to be that exposed to him? You were almost entirely naked under him yet he was still clothed. You shook your head. “It’s not fair for me to be the only one exposed here,” you said.

Wordlessly, Yunho sat back, reaching behind and grabbing the neck of his shirt before pulling it off over his head and setting it aside, leaving him in just his sweats. You allowed your eyes to sweep his frame, taking in the sight. You’d seen him shirtless before, spending many nights over at Yumi’s when you were younger but you never allowed yourself to really look, always averting your eyes in the past.

He was muscular but in a lean way. His shoulders were broad as you remembered and he’d filled out even more since the last time you’d seen him without his shirt. Your eyes continued to travel further and further, catching sight of a light trail of hair that started under his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his sweats.

“Better?” he asked, his tone amused as he watched you stare at him. You reached up, grabbing his shoulder and pulled him down to meet your lips in a rushed kiss. He’d spent so long working you up slowly and now you were more than desperate to have him.

“I know I said we have all night,” you murmured between kisses. “But I really need you right now.” Yunho chuckled against your lips, hands sliding down to your hips. “You’ve been very patient,” he agreed. “I think you deserve a reward for that.” Without another word, he dragged your panties down, discarding them rather quickly.

You waited with baited breath as his eyes wandered, taking in the sight of you completely naked under him. His eyes stopped briefly at the spot between your thighs before he looked back up to meet your gaze. You kept your eyes trained on his face as he leaned over you, his hand moving between your legs and groaning as he collected your wetness. “I’ve barely done anything,” he noted as he looked down, seeing his fingers already coated.

“S’because it’s you,” you murmured. Yunho looked back up, pressing his fingers further between your lips and easily finding your clit. You let out a gasp as he slowly started to draw light circles, watching your face as he explored. He was clearly experienced but it was still a new experience; a new lover.

He moved faster, still keeping the same pressure. It was teasing. It was enough friction to keep you on the edge but not push you further. “Yunho please,” you begged. It only took one plea for his fingers to move down and sink two into your entrance, making you moan loudly.

“Like that?” he asked softly, curling his fingers against the spongy spot inside you, making you gasp and your thighs try to close around his arm. Yunho pushed your thighs apart, leaning against one to keep you spread open for him. As he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you slowly, he inspected you, keeping his eyes on the place where his fingers disappeared.

Your thigh tried to close and Yunho grumbled, moving his free hand and taking yours, moving it to your thigh. “Hold your legs open before I tie you down,” he growled. Your walls clenched around his fingers as you did what he instructed. “Good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your stomach before scooting further down.

Before you could ask what he was doing, you felt his tongue against your clit. It was slow, deliberate, and hot. “I’ve wondered what you tasted like for years,” he murmured. “It’s better than I imagined.” With renewed vigor, Yunho’s tongue lapped at your sex, flicking against your clit as his fingers continued to move inside you. The stimulation started to build tension and you felt your orgasm approaching.

Yunho must have felt it too because he pulled away, his fingers slowing to a stop. You whined, feeling defeated as your climax ebbed away. “Shush,” you heard him whisper. “It’s okay, baby,” he continued. “I just need you to hold off a little longer for me.”

Yunho gave your sex a light lick before he pulled away, fingers continuing to move and curl, scissoring you open slowly. “Yunho, please,” you pleaded, unshed tears filling your eyes. “Just a little more, kitten,” he murmured, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“Just a little more,” he repeated. Your thighs shook, your impending orgasm slipping away once again when he stopped. You were about to protest when you felt him add a third finger, groaning as you felt the stretch against your walls. “You’re just so tight,” Yunho groaned as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. “I have to take it slow or I might hurt you.”

Despite your begging and pleading, Yunho took his time, opening you up until he was satisfied. You were an incoherent mess as he finally removed his pants and underwear, moving between your thighs and groaning as the underside of his cock rubbed against your wet folds.

“Look, angel,” he instructed. You opened your eyes and pushed yourself up onto your elbows to look down between your thighs. Yunho had rested his cock on you and you felt your stomach churn slightly at the sight. You knew Yunho was a big guy in general but the sheer size of his cock had you already seeing stars. The tip reached just under your navel and you were certain there was no way he’d fit all of it in you.

“So big,” you commented. Yunho chuckled slightly, carefully pushing you back onto the blanket. “I’ll go slow,” he reassured you, pulling back and taking himself in his hand. “Just tell me to stop if it hurts,” he added. You nodded as you felt him press the tip against your slit.

“Deep breath,” he added. You inhaled slowly and as you exhaled, you felt him push the head of his cock past your folds. You groaned as you felt it start to fill you. Yunho took his time, massaging your hips as he slid in slowly, inch by inch.

You winced slightly, prompting him to stop and whisper words of praise as you tried to relax. “That’s it baby,” he murmured. “Just relax. I’ve got you,” he added. You willed your body to relax, sighing as he continued. It felt like ages before he stopped.

Your body has seized up again and Yunho was coaxing you through it. “It’s okay angel,” he whispered, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your hips. “Relax, baby,” he added. “Relax and let me in.”

You groaned as he slid further and further, his size filling and stretching your walls. You tried not to clench but subconsciously, your cunt fluttered and constricted around him, making him groan as he tried to bottom out. You were certain he’d never fit it all in but to your absolute surprise, he did.

His hips met yours and he stilled, groaning as he dropped his head into your chest. “Fuck,” you heard him curse, his voice muffled. “You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he groaned. You felt him give a tentative thrust, as if to make sure his cock was fully buried in your pussy.

“So f-full,” you stammered, the tears flowing freely now. “So big,” you added. Yunho lifted his head and cupped your cheek tenderly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Feels good?” he asked and you nodded quickly. “Feels s-so good,” you moaned.

“So fucking good.”

Yunho chuckled, his breath fanning over your skin as you felt him start to retract slowly before snapping his hips forward and filling you in one thrust. You gasped out at the feeling. “Does it hurt?” he asked suddenly, stopping. You shook your head. “N-no. Feels so good,” you answered. “Keep going, please.”

Yunho pulled back and thrust into you again, setting a slow, heavy rhythm. Your walls constricted, trying to keep him from pulling out and sucking him back in with ease. Moans and mumbles slipped from your lips as he moved. You looked up, meeting his intense gaze.

“God,” he groaned as his hips stuttered for a moment before he was pounding into you, one hand holding your thigh open, the other keeping him from collapsing onto you. “Fuck!” he swore, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to thrust, his hips meeting yours.

You could feel him deeper than anyone had ever been, moaning with each thrust.

“So small and yet you take me so well,” Yunho groaned. “Like you were made for me.” You whimpered in response, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Does it feel good, baby?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “Do you like how good my cock feels inside you?”

You nodded wordlessly, moans slipping out instead of words. “Oh shit, do you see that, little one?” he asked, his eyes now glancing down at your stomach. You raised your head to see what he was looking at. You could see a slight bulge every time he thrust into you. “It almost doesn’t fit,” Yunho said with a smug tone.

“My cock is almost too big for you, kitten.”

You moaned as he took your hand, placing it over the spot halfway between your navel and sex. You moaned, feeling the tip nudge against your hand. Yunho groaned, pushing your palm down as he thrusted into you. You moaned loudly.

“Fuck, you sound so good, baby,” he murmured, hips slowing as he pushed himself up. You groaned as he grabbed your waist, pulling you up so your ass was resting on his thighs as he thrust further into you. “Hng! Yunho!” you gasped as the tip of his cock hit your cervix.

“Oh shit,” he cursed. You felt him pull out entirely, making you whine at the empty feeling. Yunho rolled you onto your stomach, grabbing one of the pillows to put under your hips, propping you up for him as he re-entered you from behind. You moaned into the blankets as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix.

“That’s it, baby,” Yunho groaned, holding your hips in place as he pulled out, snapping forward and filling you with one stroke. He set a much faster, more unrelenting pace, thrusting into you to a beat only he knew. You grabbed onto the blankets, trying to ground yourself against the power of his movements as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin drowning out the crackling of the fire and your whimpers.

“Yuh-Yu-Yunho,” you moaned, walls clenching repeatedly around his cock and pushing both of you closer and closer to the edge. “Gonna fuck you so good you forget anyone else ever existed,” you heard him growl. “So you know you’re mine and mine alone.”

“M’gonna make you scream my name, baby,” he added, leaning over your back, one hand moving around to grab your throat firmly. You moaned, walls squeezing around him as your orgasm washed over you without warning. “Fuck, fuck, that’s it kitten. Cum on this cock like a good girl.”

Yunho continued to fuck you through your orgasm, enjoying the way you whimpered and whined as he continued to thrust into you, keeping a firm grip on your throat. “You gonna cum again?” he murmured in your ear. “Y-yes,” you whimpered, walls already fluttering around Yunho’s cock, gripping him tightly.

“Gonna let me fill this sweet little cunt?” he asked in your ear, giving you a hard thrust. “Y-yes, daddy,” you whined. Yunho let out a growl. “Daddy, huh?” he asked, rolling his hips and making your eyes roll back. “That’s a new one,” he continued. “Alright, baby. We can go with that.”

“You like it when daddy fucks you from behind?”

You nodded vigorously. “Yes daddy,” you repeated. “Say it,” Yunho growled, pounding into you, burying himself to the hilt and making you squeal. “I like it!” you cried out. “Say it. All of it,” Yunho repeated, pounding into you once more. “Yes, I like it!” you almost screamed. “I like it when you fuck me from behind, daddy!”

You felt him sink his teeth into your shoulder, making you whimper as his cock pistoned in and out of you, making your eyes roll back again, stars filling your vision. “That’s right, baby,” he growled against your skin. “This pussy is mine. You’re mine.” You nodded wordlessly but that wasn’t enough for Yunho.

“Say it.” he ordered. “I’m yours, daddy,” you answered.

“And who does this pussy belong to?”

“It’s y-yours, daddy,” you choked out, tears flowing freely and streaming down your cheeks.

“Good girl,” Yunho groaned. “Oh fuck, you’re such a good girl. You’re my good little girl, aren’t you?” he moaned. Your second orgasm was approaching, your cunt convulsing around Yunho’s cock as his thrusts grew more erratic and sloppy. The sound of his cock thrusting into you was audible over the crackling of the fire.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you heard him curse. “M’gonna cum,” he warned you. “Where you want it, angel?” he whispered. “I-inside me, daddy, please,” you moaned. “Please cum inside me!” Yunho let out a low growl, hips slapping against your ass with renewed eagerness, groaning into your ear as he came, filling your cunt with his release.

You felt more and more of it pump into you, filling you almost to the brim as he continued to fuck his cum into you. “Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Oh, god, I love you,” he whispered as he continued to thrust, his movements slowing. “I love you so much,” he continued. “Tell me you love me, too, please,” he murmured against your shoulder.

“I love you, too,” you moaned as he finally stilled, burying his cock deep inside your walls with a huff.

The only sound other than your ragged breathing was the crackling of the fire as you both came down from your respective highs. You didn’t dare move until Yunho did and for a while, you were certain he’d fallen asleep on top of you until he finally shifted.

He pushed himself up and slowly pulled out of you, grimacing as some of his release spilled out of you, running down the insides of your thighs. “Don’t move,” he instructed and got up, grabbing his underwear and pulling it on before walking over to the kitchen and grabbing a towel.

You heard the water run briefly before he returned, wiping the insides of your thighs and carefully wiping your skin clean of his cum. “Are you okay?” he asked as he helped you roll over onto your back. “I’m great,” you said, your voice almost far off, a dazed expression on your face.

Yunho chuckled as he continued to wipe you down before grabbing your shirt and helping you into it.

Once he was certain you were clean, he tossed the used towel onto the coffee table and laid down next to you. “Did you mean it?” you asked finally as he pulled a blanket over the two of you and pulled you into his arms. “Mean what?” he asked, watching as you turned in his hold to look at him.

“When you said you love me?”

Yunho’s expression softened and he pressed his lips against yours tenderly. “Of course,” he answered. “I do love you. It’s always been you, Y/N. I only want you,” he continued. You snuggled against him, listening to his heart beating in his chest. “Did you mean it?” he asked after a moment and you nodded immediately. “Mhm, I’ve loved you for a long time, Yunho,” you replied.

“For me, you’ve always been it.”

You pulled back to look up at him. Yunho’s lips spread into a grin before kissing you again, a bit more passionately. “Yumi isn’t going to like this,” he added softly. You shrugged, no longer caring now that you knew your feelings were reciprocated. “I think she’d rather us be happy,” you said softly.

“We’ll just have to break it to her easily. We were both stupid and in love,” Yunho replied. Your eyes fluttered shut as you started to drift off.

When you awoke it was to the slam of a distant door. You opened your eyes slowly, bright light pouring into the room. You were still lying in Yunho’s arms on the floor in front of the fireplace. You relaxed as Yunho snored softly. The next moment the front door opened and your eyes snapped open.

Before you could scramble away from Yunho who was starting to stir, you heard an all too familiar voice.

“What the hell is all this?” Yumi shouted. You sat up quickly, rubbing your eyes as you looked up at your best friend who was glaring down at the two of you. Yunho pushed himself up. “We can explain,” he said quickly. Yumi narrowed her eyes before her expression softened.

“Oh you don’t need to explain,” she said, chuckling.

“I’ve known for years that the two of you were hot for each other. Just waited for it to come out.”

You turned to look at Yunho who looked just as stunned as you.

“Just do me a favor,” Yumi added, making the two of you look at her.

“Keep the fucking to a minimum, or just keep it down,” she asked.

“I forgot to buy earbuds.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#16 days of smutmas 2023 #cultofdionysusnet #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez x reader #yunho scenarios #yunho imagines #yunho fanfic #yunho angst #yunho fluff #yunho smut #yunho x reader

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cheriladycl01 · 16 days

Note

Hey! Your fics are amazing. I couldn't see if you were taking requests but if you are would you be comfortable writing a Pierre Gasly x Leclerc!Reader maybe where the reader is obviously a Leclerc sibling and has known Pierre for years and have also been dating for years and the brothers find out and are not happy about it.

Thank you and keep up the amazing writing!

🐨

You are royally fucked - Pierre Gasly x Leclerc! Reader

Plot: Y/N Leclerc grew up attached to her brothers, being a twin to Arthur and looking up to Charles and Lorenzo meant that you'd always been extremely close to your brothers and you travelled round the world with two of them as much as you could, but your brothers weren't the only reason why you attended races when you got older.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! Sorry it took me a while to get round to it!

Credit to callumilott-archive for the GIF

You'd know Pierre since 2010 when you and Arthur followed Charles to karting. Arthur was obsessed as much as his older brother over cars and so all three would kart.

You and Arthur were in the same division but still followed Charles to the higher levels too see him perform which is how you met Pierre.

You were 10 and he was 14, just a kid where you had a crush on your older brothers friend.

It was stupid and went away with time as Pierre was just someone kind to you when you were around your brothers. You saw him every race weekend. You'd bring him cookies you'd baked and he'd bring you a charm for your bracelet which he got you another one off on your 13th birthday as there were too many.

As you got older karting yourself became less and less of an interest and you only would show up to watch your bothers. Arthur continued on like Charles through the feeder series.

But as Charles progressed he became more and more absent. You weren't allowed to travel across the world with Charles unless your parents or Lorenzo were there too look after you, and you started to miss your brother more and more until it took a toll on you.

You started acting up, not going to school and it put a strain on your relationships with all of your family.

Charles wasn't around enough to see it but the rest of your family did.

When Charles finally got to F2, your mum promised you could go more, and it was great until your dad got sick and he couldn't travel anymore.

You were angry, not at anyone in particular but at the world for everything it was throwing at you. And you tried to run away, you ended up outside the casino in Monte Carlo, lost and upset.

It was actually Lewis Hamilton who found you, he couldn't comprehend why this 16 year old girl was alone in the streets of Monaco. You guys talked for ages and he convinced you to go home, you parents were so angry with you they grounded you and you were banned from going to any of Charles races.

Then your dad passed away, and you were devastated and were even more angry. You were 16 and had so much hate for the world, Arthur, Lorenzo and Pascale had no idea what to do with you. So they sent you to boarding school for a year until you were 18 and could make up your own mind.

While you were there you clicked with a group of people who all were influencers of some sort, and having Charles as a brother and him being announced into F1 for 2018 it wasn't hard to accumulate a following.

You stayed in the UK until you were 21, all you friends from boarding school went to university so you decided you'd stay with them and get a degree. Despite missing lots of school you were actually a very smart girl and had excellent grades.

Once you were 18, Arthur started to invite you to more of his races. And Lorenzo and your mum were always asking for you to come home... but your Charlie still hadn't realized everything you'd been through.

It wasn't until his 24rd birthday you saw Charlie properly. He noticed how different you were, you weren't the 16 year old he left all those years ago. He just pulled you into a massive hug and it didn't seem like the time to unload everything on him.

You saw Lewis that night, and he recognized you right away coming over and laughing about how he didn't think you'd end up being his competitions little sister when he helped you out all those years ago.

Then, you saw him ...

Pierre and that was night everything changed.

"Pierre?" you asked looking over the taller male, smiling softly not having seen his face in person for a while.

"Y/N?" he asks in shock, cocking his head to the side.

"The one and only" you grin and he just stares, still shell shocked about your presence.

"I haven't seen you for years!" he says pulling you into a tight hug that you melt into, his big arms encasing around you and making you feel safe.

"Where have you been?" he asks, looking over you face.

"Argh i just obviously got so sick of seeing you and Charlie all the time!" you smirk, taking a sip of the Negroni in your hand.

"Mmmmm, and to think. I thought you used to have a crush on me" he chuckles looking down and laughing.

The few drinks you'd had brought for you by your brother and all the drivers who recognized you had got to that confident place in your mind.

"Oh i did, hard core" you say with a straight face making him squint his eyes at you seeing if you were telling the truth.

"You sound ... different" he offers leaning in and tucking some hair behind your ear. If Pierre was being honest he'd never seen you as anything but a little sister, that was how he treated you when you guys were younger.

He didn't know if it was the club lights, the alcohol, your changed accent and looks, or a mix of all of them but he was looking at you like you were the only girl in the world for him.

And you noticed.

"That's what years of schooling in the UK will do for you and having friends who love to take the mick when you butcher the pronunciation of something" you giggle.

"You still sound Monegasque though" he grins, still hearing that twang.

The rest of the conversation was history as you went back to Pierre's hotel room, spending the night with him.

At this point you'd been dating Pierre for 4 years. Everyone noticed since 2021 how much more common your appearance in the garage was. Obviously your twin was there as a development driver for Ferrari, and Charles as a Ferrari driver also meant that people knew you were there for your brothers.

But little did they know you were sneaking off to the Alpine garage in search or your boyfriend.

“Hey baby” you grinned to Pierre, happy to see his face and plant kisses all over it.

“Ahhhh, how are you cherie” he mumbles into your neck. 2024 hadn’t been a great season for Alpine, and 2025 hadn’t started off great either. So you being there in the garage to cheer him up or calm him down was a must.

Charles never really questioned where you left too, he assumed it was to see Logan and Oscar who would often be found teasing Arthur all still being relatively close from their F2 days in Prema.

“Im good, just a little tired” you smile cuddling up to him on the little sofa in his drivers room.

“Mmmmm” he says and he seems like he isn’t fully there with you.

“What’s wrong, somethings on your mind” you ask, looking over him.

“I’ve been thinking” he says looking down at you.

“That’s never good” you joke but his face tells you that this will be a pretty serious conversation. One that you could tell had been playing on his mind.

"What is it what's wrong?" you ask, taking his hand in your own.

"We need to tell your family soon... it's been 4 years of being a secret and I want to show you off. I want to be able to take you out for a nice dinner in public and not fear getting caught. I want you to move in with me, and I just think it's time we tell them!" he admits, all very quickly and he watches as you take the time to process what he has just admitted.

"You want to tell my brothers?" you ask making sure you weren't jumping the gun.

"Yes, I cant help but feel ... guilty is not the right word but do you get what i mean?" he asks and you nod.

"Yeah, why don't I ask maman... she can make us a nice dinner tonight after the race and I'll say I'm bringing my boyfriend?" you smile and he nods.

You walk away to call your mum, leaving Pierre to leave his drivers room and walk to the garage where he would be starting the race soon.

"Maman?" you ask into the phone as it connects.

"Y/N darling where are you. We've all been in the garage waiting for you!" you hear in French and you chuckle.

"I've been, somewhere else. Maman i need to ask you something!" you ask as you exit the Alpine hospitality, trying to go as unnoticed as possible.

"What is it?" she asks, concern washing over her voice.

"I want to introduce you all to my boyfriend tonight..." you say although it comes out as more of a question that anything.

"WHAT?" she yells down the phone and you visibly cringe.

"Y/N Leclerc, get back to the Ferrari garage now!" she chides before hanging up the phone making you bite your lip anxiously.

You walk back to Ferrari as slowly as possible not wanting to feel that wrath of your mother who has probably already told Lorenzo and Arthur.

"Hey..." you say awkwardly as you go to where they are sat in the garage with all their headphones on.

"You have a boyfriend?" Lorenzo asks

"And you didn't tell me... us i mean!" Arthur cries out as Lorenzo elbow his side hearing him talk about himself.

"Maman! You told them!" you exclaim, not in shock as it was highly likely she would spill the beans to your brothers, but more in frustration that she did.

"Y/N! Why would you not tell your family about this... how long has this relationship been for?" your mum asks making you bite your lip and look down.

"4 years" you mumble and you mother huffs asking you to speak up before you say it in French, turning away not wanting to see their reactions.

"You've been with a man for 4 years and not told any of us! Not even Arthur! You tell everything to your twin!" You mum exclaims in shock.

"Obviously not everything ..." Arthur says sounding really upset before walking off, making tears fill in your eyes.

"I'm, we're ... happy for you. Really! But you know we worry about you... especially Charles. I dread to think how he's going to react when we tell him!" he laughs.

It was just you and Lorenzo right now, your mum having gone off to find Arthur.

"Loz, can i tell you something that you cant tell anyone?" you ask looking at him. Your oldest brother was always the best at knowing when you really really wanted his attention and that it was something serious.

"Go on!" he says, looking over you.

"You promise you wont say anything!" you look over at him and he nods, holding up his pinky which you swiftly take with your pinky too.

"I promise!" he sighs.

"It's Pierre" you blurt out, an eyebrow of Lorenzo's raising.

"What's Pierre?" he asks.

"The person who I'm dating... it's Pierre!" you admit and his eyes widen.

"Oh... you are royally fucked!"

And that you were. When Pierre entered the house all hell broke loose. Charles was yelling, Arthur too, Lorenzo was trying to calm everyone down. Maman was being quiet just watching the chaos erupt. Alex and Charlotte didn't know what to do. Pierre was just listening to everything that Charles was yelling at him.

It wasn't until you started sobbing that Charles stopped and looked over at you.

"Y/N... I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that!" he exclaims looking over between you and Pierre.

"I guess I'm just shocked... we were all friends and I didn't expect it!" he admits and you look down.

"Please, Charlie. I love him... just like you love Alex and how Loz loves Charlotte. He makes me happy, the happiest I've been probably ever!" you sigh and he nods.

"God, i cant believe your growing up!" he sniffles and you pull Charlie into a hug.

"It happens!" you chuckle.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly #pg10 #pg10 x reader #alpine f1 #charles leclerc fluff #leclerc reader #leclerc sister fic #charles leclerc x sister!reader

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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

Text

Just say the word (Max Verstappen)

A secret relationship is hard enough to deal with when you don't have people constantly shipping your boyfriend with someone else

Note: english is not my first language. This is the first time I'm writing athlete!reader, so I thought about the sports I know better and swimming seemed fitting for what I wanted!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: secret relationship

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"You're alone today, Y/N?", one of the other girls, Ella, asked as you retrieved your waterproof workout plan sheet from the folder.

"I'm going away tomorrow and I won't be back until Monday morning, so I squeezed in my Saturday session now; Carol is coaching with the younger group today later", you explained the fact that you were at the pool without your coach.

At first, swimming was an after school activity since your parents worked long hours and they needed you to be occupied and somewhere with someone looking after you, but as you grew older, your passion for the activity became more serious. Combined with your natural skill and hard work - and, truth be told, a dust of luck from deep pocket sponsors - you were able to become a full time swimmer. Tokyo 2020 Olympics was the proudest moment of your career as you stepped on the podium next to two of the people you looked up to the most, wondering if you were ever going to stand in the top step and hear your national anthem play. Baby steps - Carol told you immediately - this is already a huge achievement, Y/N!

"Do you want to stretch together?", Ella wondered, throwing a foam roller for you to catch once you nodded and getting one for herself.

"Where are you off to this weekend?", she asked curiously. You were playing a risky game, you knew that much, going away only on weekends and travelling to countries where, coincidentally, the Formula One Grand Prix was being held.

Luckily for you, no one seemed to make the connection as the last two years you managed to keep your relationship a secret. You first met Max in a sponsor party at the beggining of your professional career when you needed to up your earnings as the costs of travelling to competitions was getting higher and heavier on your savings. It fell through, but other sponsors came your way and you and Max started hanging out after it. The Dutch driver was funny and charming and after winning your first Olympic medal, you felt unstoppable and confessed your feelings for him. When he admitted he felt the same for you, you went from there on. At first, the decision to keep it secret was both strategic, as Max didn't want you to miss out on any sponsorships or teams backing you because you were in a relationship with him, and personal as he didn't want the world's prying eyes on your relationship.

Two years later, you felt like there had never been a right time to do it so things stayed the way they were, and most of the time, you didn't mind it.

"Austria", you kept the city to yourself as you worked on your hips as they were still tight from yesterday.

"Didn't you go there last year?", she quirked an eyebrow.

"Last year, I had more of a city break weekend, this time around I'm going for a nature approach, you know? No phones, no Internet, digital detox and all of that", you offered, doubling up the excuse so she wouldn't expect to see and Instagram stories or posts from your weekend away.

"Sounds nice! It can really get in your head when you're too long on them - I have a timer on my phone because otherwise I won't even notice the amount of time I spend on social media", she smiled before silently asking if she could take the foam rollers back to their box.

Getting yourself on the water and used to the temperature, you started with your usual warm up routine before following the plan you stuck to the platform.

On some days, the session felt quick, before you knew, the other athletes were already stretching and getting prepped for their own session. Today, it seemed like it would never end, as you looked at the clock and only fifteen minutes had gone by since the last time you checked it. At least your times were improving, you thought, drinking some water before going back to practice your butterfly stroke as dictated by the workout sheet.

It was already evening time when you sat down on your bedroom floor, packing everything you had laid out to take on your trip with you when your phone rang.

"Hey, liefje", Max said as his face showed up on your screen, "how was your day?".

"Good. Had training in the morning, then a physio session because my hips kept hurting, and I found some time to buy a replacement for my moisturiser before I came home to have dinner and pack", you showed him the suitcase, "and you? The car seems good, a nice gap to the others as well", you mused.

"The same old Friday, really. Woke up, came to the track, a little debrief with Alice and then we headed to the track. Only tomorrow will tell, but I'm confident on the pole", he smiled, "can't wait to have you here with me and see your gorgeous face up close".

"You can see it now", you ridiculed as you rested your chin on your phone and looked into the camera so Max could have an interesting angle of your features, "beautiful, am I right?", you joked.

"The most beautiful", he complimented, "are you nearly done packing?", he wondered.

"Yes, just my charger and a few other last minute things left - I'll put them in my backpack tomorrow morning", you reasoned.

"You better get to sleep, your flight is early", your boyfriend encouraged, "I really need it - a proper shower first and then I'll go to bed", you assured, "I love you, Max, see you tomorrow", you blew him a kiss.

"I love you too, gorgeous! Text me updates from your flight, okay?", he smiled, smooching his lips for you to see before you ended the videocall.

The shower helped you unwind for the night, a little list on your kitchen counter to remember you of the last minute things as you turned off the lights and got back to your bedroom, your bed waiting for you so you could sleep a decent amount of hours.

Sitting on the waiting area of the airport, you placed your backpack on your legs and rested your elbows there, grabbing your phone to scroll through social media.

Ella was right, people did spend too much time on these. Everyone around you seemed to be on their phone or tablet devices.

A photo of your boyfriend showed up in your explore page, a fan page showing his walking back to the garage after FP1 and Alice was trailing right beside him.

Scrolling through the carrousel of pictures, you found a small video of them laughing together about something. The comments under it were the same as usual.

No one can convince me they're not together!😌 (to be read as I know I'm delulu)

If they're not, I'll volunteer to show them how good they would be for eachother! 🫣

Such a power couple 😮‍💨🥵

When they finally knock some sense into eachother's head and realise they're meant to be together, I'm claiming them as my parents! 🥹

No matter how many times you saw it, it never got easier. For all everyone knew, Max was single, so they weren't acting as a disregard of you. They didn't knew a regard of you to begin with. So they took interest in his love life and hoped he was in a relationship with some of the women he interacted with. Max usually didn't let many of them start to begin with, but Alice worked for the team, he could only get so far away and be distanced from her.

Max wouldn't cheat on you, you knew that. But the comments made you wonder. Would he be better off with someone else? Someone who could follow him anywhere?

The thoughts often plagued your mind, and they hadn't yet turned to the your other insecurities, so you had to be thankful for that.

Boarding on the plane, you played some music on your earbuds as you fished out your kindle to continue reading the book you started at the beggining of the week.

The buzz was installed on track as you found your spot in the stands just in time to see the marshalls tidying up whatever was left on the concrete so qualifying could start without a hitch.

This was usually how you did it. On Saturday, you would watch qualifying from the stands, waiting a little in the fan zone before Max whisked you into the hospitality with Gianpiero's help. On Sunday, you either stayed on the stands and repeated the same procedure or you arrived early to the track and stayed in his driver's room so to not lift any suspicions. You had been invited to watch a few races with the Paddock Club pass with some of the other Olympic athletes, but it hadn't happened in a while.

To anyone, you were a regular fan. You had your RedBull cap on and sunglasses, and you had never been recognised in one of the races, so you felt calm. The tricky bit of keeping your relationship hidden from the public eye was going to be later, for now, you could just wait and appreciate the fast laps.

"I'm sorry, you're Y/N Y/L/N, right?", a girl in a Ferrari cap called your name. Crap.

"Hi, I am", you smiled, "I'm sorry to ambush you like this - I am a big fan and you're a big inspiration to me. I also swim", she reasoned as she fumbled with her phone, "do you mind if my father takes a picture of us?", she politely asked.

"That's okay, yes", you smiled, taking off your sunglasses briefly as the older man snapped a picture before he shook your hand, "she won't shut up about your achievements! Did you tell Ms. Y/L/N that you're going to be in the qualifiers for Paris?".

"It's Y/N, please", you requested, "That's fantastic, congratulations! I hope it all works out for you and I'll see you around there!", you hugged her quickly before she thanked you and found their seats.

She seemed nice enough and it wasn't like you were a public figure, at least to the general public anyway really, so between all of the people who could've spotted you, she was fine.

"C'mon Max!", you yelled as he and Charles seemed to be separated by a few tenths of a second, cheering loudly when the times were set and your boyfriend got the pole position.

The timing was perfect as Max took a little longer than expected on his interviews, fans scattering to the fanzone and track experiences while you spotted Max's engineer, walking with him when no one seemed to be paying attention to it.

"I'll tell Max you're already here", he smiled before he closed the door of the driver's room.

It always felt a little odd. Like you were doing something forbidden and illegal by being there.

"Yes, we'll meet in a bit", Max told whoever was in the corridor after he opened the door, closing it back when you jumped on him, legs wrapping around his waist, "hey, pole sitter", you smirked, nuzzling your face on his neck and kissing the soft skin.

"Hello, liefje", he mumbled against your skin before you pulled away, "kiss?", you asked for his lips to settle on yours for a bit, filling up on eachother's presence.

"No one saw you come here?", he asked. You shook your head, "everybody was paying attention to other things, the only people I encountered already know so we're safe", you stated.

Max noticed the change of tone, but you wouldn't have time to properly discuss it so he let it slide for now, telling you instead about the session and how the car felt, as well as the dinner plans her had for you since the room service menu was "so varied we could make our own little buffet".

You stayed in the room while he had the debrief, leaving together when you made sure no one would see you two.

"Room service called back, they said they'll bring the food in ten minutes", Max said as you got out of the bathroom, dressed in pyjamas and fresh out of the shower, "That's good, I'm starving", you smiled as you sat down.

Max always received the food at the door to ensure no prying eyes would see something he didn't want, along with other precautions like packing up all your things in case someone from housekeeping enjoyed the gossip and took the rumours somewhere else.

"I know something is bothering you", Max began you had taken a piece of chicken to your much, "I noticed it when we were in my room, and even now there's something", he nudged your arm.

Chewing and swallowing afterwards, you moved the broccoli around your plate, gathering your thoughts before speaking up, "do you know people ship you and Alice?", you spoke up.

"Don't change the subject, darl - is that it?", Max tried to understand.

"People seem to think you'd make a great couple, like, they have your whole relationship panned out. Everyone thinks she's very pretty - and I agree with them -, and that you two have chemistry and that it would be nice for you to be with her - looks exchanged and all sorts of ideas", you mumbled.

"Liefje, I'd never do that to you, I don't interact with her that way", Max replied instantly.

"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone - and they know who that person is, so really it's just a matter of putting two and two together!", you let a tear fall down your cheek.

"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much and bringing you such sadness", Max cupped your cheek, thumb wiping the tears that followed suit and looking into your eyes.

"I can ask the team to issue or statement - or we can go public. I don't care what we do as long as you feel better about it", he comforted.

"Do you want to go public?", you asked, afraid of the answer.

"Y/N, my love, being secret was just to protect you, for your good. If going public is the solution for this, I'm the first one to walk into the paddock tomorrow with you, holding hands and everything", he moved his hands to cradle your own.

"You mean that? It's just, I don't want people to assume you're single and throw themselves at you - or throw someone at you! I know Alice won't do it, but other people might and I'm tired of having to lie to people about where I'm going and saying no to dates they try to set up and why I gave a RedBull rain jacket on my car", you chuckled at the last one, remembering your coach's reaction when she saw it, "Since when do you follow F1?", Carol questioned.

"We'll do it tomorrow if you want, or whenever you feel ready, Y/N. I'll be by your side, always", he smiled kissing your lips lovingly.

"I don't have any paddock wag outfits with me", you giggled, "have to make a good impression".

"Please, you could go in these pyjamas and you'd still be the prettiest woman there", he pulled you to sit on his lap as you finished your dinner.

The next morning, people couldn't believe their eyes as Max walked hand in hand with a young woman, the pair of them talking about something between them as they giggled.

A few were unsure of it was really you while others asked their colleagues to please repeat your name, googling you quickly and finding out your achievements.

Soon enough, pictures flowed social media with the paddock's new power couple, gossip Instagram pages having a field day and it wasn't even lunch time.

"This is news", Daniel said as he spotted Max. He had been one of the few people outside of the team who knew about you two, you having made him swear that he would never tell anyone, and if by chance he did let something slip, you trusted him to make a joke out of it and for people to assume he was just teasing Max indeed.

"You won't have to keep it to yourself anymore, Danny", you said as you hugged his side quickly.

"That's good, actually, I think that's what has been keeping me from being focused in racing, it's a real relief, Y/N", he stated and for two seconds, you felt bad for putting such pressure on him, "I'm just kidding! C'mon, you know what I'm like", he gave you a big smile, "now, I have to go, will pop by to see you though!", Daniel said as he waved while he carried on to his team's garage.

Your interactions with Daniel and the team spurred curiosity as the media started thinking and hypothesizing that maybe your relationship was as new as they thought it was. As it turns out, once again, Max Verstappen knew how to keep private aspects away from the media.

For now, they would try to dig more and find out how the Olympic medalist swimmer stole the heart of the Formula One driver.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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spookykoolkat · 7 months

Text

kinktober | grateful - j.m.

kinktober day nine - cockwarming

pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader

wc: 2.17k

summary: being joel's girlfriend meant you saw sides of him no one else ever saw. one of them was how he just loved to be in your presence, to feel you, to touch you — to be buried inside of you.

warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS ARE NOT WELCOMED!!! NO AGE = BLOCKED. mentions of violence and sexual violence *if you blink you will miss it it's not a main theme!*, mentions if blood, dirty talk, p in v, cockwarming, slight somno.

an: gosh im so behind on this but i WILL catch up. i have a concert tmrw im very excited! also this one is very short, but i still love it 🥹

reblogs, likes & comments are so very appreciated i love u guys 🥹

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YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT it meant to be in a relationship – with joel. somehow, years after you got lost with the group you’d traveled with for months, you ended up in the midst of a bunch of men on horses pointing their guns at you.

one of them being joel, and his brother. you were cut up, bloodied and bruised, in the freezing winter with hardly anything on. you remembered looking around you at the men that circled you, your hands raised but just barely because you had a stab wound on your left shoulder, crying.

“please, i, i can leave just, please don’t kill me, i’ll go,” you cried frantically.

every thought was going through your mind right now. you were half naked, shivering and near frostbite basically, the only thing warming you up would be the blood pouring from your wounds. there were only two things that could happen.

they’ll trap you, have their way with you, then leave you for dead. or, they shoot you because they think you’re infected.

“please don’t hurt me, i’m, i’m not infected, i swear.” you sobbed, looking down at your knees that felt numb being buried in the snow.

you heard a shuffle, then something hit the floor, and the crunch of snow under a pair of boots. until you saw them right in front of you, and the person lowered themselves down to your height.

the man tilted your chin up with his glove-covered fingers, and made you look at him.

“you ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of, come on, we’ll get ya some clothes,”

and that was it. joel was the one who kept you away from the men that stared you down like a piece of meat that day, he kept you away from tommy, who kept telling him it was a bad idea. but quickly referenced when he and ellie came into town, and they took them in like nothing.

he kept you safe. and he let you stay with him for the time being, until you managed to find a job down at the local bar. then, the two of you kind of went your separate ways. you found a little house at the corner that tommy told joel to give you, and managed to live by yourself for the year you were there.

joel didn’t want you on patrol routes, or to forage for things that the town needed. he needed you safe, even when he wasn’t there.

you hadn’t talked to joel, but he managed to come to the tipsy bison every friday, sitting at the bar by himself and watching you.

“you know,” you start as you are cleaning the beer glasses and wiping down the sticky table after closing. joel was the only one still there.

“you come here every friday, ever since i started working here, but everyone i’ve ever heard from tells me you like to drink alone. in the comfort of your own house,” you said, wiping the bar down in front of him.

“jus’ makin’ sure you ain’t in no trouble over here,” he mumbled behind his last drink, downing the rest of the mahogany liquid. he did a subtle look down your shirt as you wiped the bar down in circles, watching your cleavage come into view.

you just chuckled. “i think i’ll be okay. i promise you’ll be the first one i go to if i need help.”

that made a small smile tug on his lips.

“let me walk ya home,”

so he did. except he didn’t leave after that. that night, the two of you drank a little more at your place, and things got a little heated. in the midst of stretching you out for the very first time, he was whispering things you would’ve claimed were little nothings, but seemed as if he was declaring his need for you.

“fuck baby, tell me, whose pussy is this? who else is stretchin’ ya out like this?”

“pretty fuckin’ girl, i swear i’ll fuckin’ kill for ya, won’t let nobody come near ya,”

“you ain’t leavin’ me, darlin’. this pussy is fuckin’ mine,”

and you never did, and he always kept his promise. four years later, after him being the one to fix your wounds and give you clothes, a place to stay — you lived with him. ellie ended up being able to take patrol routes occasionally, moving into a small house with dina. she was even glad he had someone to look after him, to take care of him as he cared for everyone.

joel had just came in towards the end of the night from patrolling with tommy, mumbling about how he’s sort of an idiot. you could barely hear his banter from your bedroom, ears perking up at the sound of the door opening and slamming closed.

“baby?” you called out from the bedroom as he walked to the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer. his eyes searched for you in the darkness of the living room, until he ended up walking to the back hall to the room you both slept in.

his face softened, giving a little smile as he walked over to you and plopped on the bed next to you. the force almost made you drop the book you were reading, so you dog-eared the page and put it on the table as you turned to curl into him.

“you smell like outside,” you said as you crinkled your nose.

“fuckin’ tommy, stressin’ me out. he wanted t’ stay longer for maria just in case but it was a fuckin’ ghost town, nothin’ was even there, but he’s fuckin’ stubborn.”

you just sighed and let your face rest on his chest as his arm threw over behind you, rubbing the side of your body. “well, you’re home now.”

he sighed, taking a swig from the beer and moved to put it on the bedside table. he just threw his head back, used his forearm to cover his eyes and breathe in and out. you just looked at him, a little empathetic.

you started to kiss his chest, the one with the dirty shirt he wore to patrol and up his body, to his neck and jaw. with the movements, you swiftly swung your leg over one side and straddled him, making his arm move and his head tilting down to get a look at you.

you just watched him, watching you, and smiled as you sat directly on his groin.

“i know you’re stressed, but,” you started and rubbed over his tummy and pecs, “i need you.”

you said with lust in your eyes, and he just smirked as he watched you reach under his shirt to feel the warmth of his body.

“my baby needs me, ‘s that right?” he asked lowly, his voice sounding raspy and gruff. his hands rested on the width of your hips, loving the way you were so curvy and plush for him.

you just nodded, and moved to where you could unbuckle his pants and try to shimmy them down with his help. after you got his pants and boxers to his knees, you spit in your hand and gripped the shaft of his half hard cock.

“i love you,” you said as you started to feel him harden in your hands, his own hands moving to the tank top you had on and yanking the fabric down to see your breasts.

“you know i love you, baby,” he said and reached to play with your heavy breasts, tugging your nipple and playing with both of them so he could watch them peak.

“i’m just real tired, honey,” he started as he felt your grip on his cock soften, and watched your face turn with disappointment until he grabbed your face and made you look at him.

“you wanna help me out, darlin’?” he asked and you nodded with your eyebrows furrowed, “alright then, come lay down right here,”

he patted the side of the bed that you slept on, and you let go of his cock before pouting and sliding down to the side next to him. you faced the opposite direction, facing the wall as you heard him get up and start taking all of his clothes off before sliding under the blankets with you.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby, such a pretty fuckin’ pussy you have,” he said in your ear as he pulled you flush to his back, gripping your asscheeks before pulling one cheek apart from the other, feeling the wetness you gathered at your cunt.

“always so wet f’ me, always so good to me,” he breathed on your neck. he felt your legs move apart so he’d have more access, and he just smiled, kissing on your shoulder.

you didn’t know what he was planning on doing until you felt him guide the tip of his fully hard length up and down your cunt, still using one hand to move the thickness of your ass so he’d have access to your juices.

“joel,” you whined and moved your hips back to his, and finally felt his tip slip inside of you.

“please,” you begged as he stretched you completely, feeling full even as he’s halfway.

he lifts the blankets to watch you take him from behind, watching how his cock the was lathered with your juices as he thrusts softly into you before he bottoms out completely.

but he doesn’t move, and instead kisses on your shoulder before going to your back, kissing there and wrapping his arm around your waist to rest on the fat of your tummy.

“wait, joel i-” you started before he just squeezed your breast, leaving his hand to rest there.

“mm-mm, we’re goin’ to sleep,” he said, but the feeling of his cock being buried inside of you was too distracting. you couldn’t sleep.

“but joel,” you whined, your hand resting on top of his as you felt the heat of his breath against your neck.

“go to sleep, i promise i’ll give you want you want baby, jus’ let me feel you like this, yeah?” he asks and you involuntarily moan a little, your movements of trying to fuck back on his cock failing.

“i love feelin’ you like this, sweet girl. could be buried in this fuckin’ cunt for years,” he whispered as he squeezed your tit again, “you fit me so fuckin’ perfectly,”

“i love when you fill me up, joel,” you whispered ss you hugged his arm, leaving kisses on it and making joel smile against your skin.

“aw, my baby, loves when i just keep you on my cock, just so i can feel you. love when you keep me warm inside that little fuckin’ cunt,” he growled and you whined, trying to squirm and get some movement in.

he just holds you tight, not letting you move. the feeling of his cock filling you to the brim made your cunt clench, and he groaned at the feeling. you felt like you were suffocating, practically feeling his cock in your throat as he just laid there behind you and kissed your skin.

“go to sleep, baby. i promise i’ll make ya cum over n’ over til’ i gotta leave,” he said, and your heart skipped a beat at the proposition.you knew he was telling the truth, because he’s done it before.

he’s made you soak the sheets before it even hit six in the morning, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you and ravishing in it. the best thing he could ever do with his time is watch you fall apart because of him, and make you feel good.

so, you fell asleep with him still inside of you, feeling the dull throb of his cock and your cunt mixed together, the feeling of when he would move to pull you closer because he slipped out of you a little bit.

he craved you, even in his sleep.

and the next morning when he woke up, he was still buried inside of you and looked at where you two connected, seeing the pool of your arousal leaking onto him, and on the bed.

so he kept his promise, and used the newfound arousal you built up to slide out of you, and slide right back in. until you woke up, and tightened on his cock as he fucked you awake.

joel was obsessed with you, and that meant if he could have you sitting on his cock while he did his day to day things, he would. and he’s tried. but feeling you soak him, squeeze him and cry out for him made him feel a whole other type of gratefulness.

you were grateful he was the one that took you in, he was the one that cared for you and protected you, and he was grateful that you let him walk you home that night, grateful that you only trusted him and not anyone else.

TAGLIST

@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @dirtydianaahah

let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist!

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scuderiahoney · 1 month

Text

Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 3

hockey au part 3: a walk in near the park, a surprising team photo, and the semester comes to a close. 6.2k words

warnings: mentions of sports injury, mentions of bullying, alcohol, academic stress, final exams

Oscar has spent a lot of his life on the move. He moved to the US from Australia for high school at a pretty young age, just to try and play hockey. Looking back, it sounds crazy. What’s even crazier is that it actually worked. He’d play for club teams and in leagues and travel absolutely anywhere if it gave him time on the ice. And then he ended up on a college team and stayed put for two years, and honestly, it felt strange.

Over that time, he got good at putting things in boxes. Keeping life organized. Not so much in a sense of clutter and things having a place- his room is a mess, there’s laundry to be done, and his hockey locker is a disaster- but more so in his head. His friendships and relationships get categorized, information filed away, grouped together. Not by importance or value, but by… context. Hockey friends in one box. Family in another. People like coaches and managers and executives in a third. Moving somewhere new always shakes the boxes up.

By late November, though, Oscar’s feeling a little bit more comfortable in his own skin. He’s found his place in the team, he has weekly lunches with teammates, and he’s even made some friends outside of hockey. His old coach, Mark, says that’s a big piece of it. That it’s good to have something other than sport, just in case it all falls apart, or it doesn’t work out. People to fall back on who aren’t just there for hockey.

Oscar wants to say that his teammates would still be friends with him even if he stopped playing, for some reason, but the truth is that he’s been burned by other overly ambitious hockey kids way too often to truly believe it. That’s half the reason he’s on the Timberwolves now, why he left his old school and team behind. Things feel better here. Lando has an old friend who used to play hockey who still hangs around the house sometimes- Max, the other Max. (Oscar doesn’t call him that to his face.) So maybe Lando at least wouldn’t ditch him if he quit.

And then there’s you, too. Oscar’s not quite sure when you went from being an enigma he struggled to place into one of his carefully organized boxes in his head to, well, this.

You’re sitting across from him at the dining table in his house, one finger tracing the words in the textbook in front of you. You have a TimTam in your other hand-you seem to have developed a fondness for them, the same way that Oscar seems to have developed a fondness for you. The late afternoon sun is shining into the room through the sliding glass door and onto you. Oscar shakes his head to try to clear it.

As he does, you groan and drop your face into the textbook with a solid thud- he winces. “I hate physics.”

He holds back a laugh, because he knows you genuinely are frustrated. “Does slamming your face on the words help?”

You shrug. “Maybe, if I just sit here like this, the knowledge will seep into my brain.”

He hums. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Right, because you know everything,” you mumble. “Genius man.”

He rolls his eyes and pushes away from the table. “Come on. Time for a break.”

“I don’t need a break, I need to learn…” you sigh and turn your head, pressing your cheek to the book and looking at him with one eye. “What are we studying again?”

Oscar fixes you with a disapproving look and heads towards the front door. He knows you’ll follow. By the time he makes it to the entryway, you’re hot on his heels, watching curiously as he pulls his shoes on.

“Where are you going?” You ask.

“We’re going on a walk,” he says. “Brain break.”

You shrug and nod, reaching for your own shoes as he pulls on a jacket. He tries not to laugh as you struggle to pull them on without untying them. You’re always stubborn like that, it seems. It’s almost painfully endearing. You stand up straight once you have the shoes on and look at him expectantly.

“Where’s your jacket?” He asks.

You shrug and shove your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. Or is it Charles’ hoodie? Oscar swears he’d seen him wearing it just yesterday.

“I didn’t wear one,” you say. Oscar raises his brows, and you roll your eyes. “There’s not even snow on the ground, Piastri.”

“It’s almost December, Bunny” he says flatly, and reaches for another one of his jackets hanging on the hook near the door.

He hands it to you, and stands there, waiting, until you grumble and pull it on. You wear the other guys’ clothing all the time, but he swears you look almost flustered at the offer. Huh. He’s trying desperately to pretend he’s not flustered over it, honestly. Something about you in his clothing makes him blush. He’d felt the same way about the hoodie you’d borrowed at the party.

“You’re just Australian,” you say, nudging your foot against his as if to usher him out the door. “You’re a baby about the cold.”

He doesn’t have much of a comeback to that, so he steps outside, and you follow right along with him. He walks down the steps and takes off down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. You might be right- he’s a bit of a baby when it comes to cold temperatures- but his breath curls into mist in front of his face and yours does the same, so it really is chilly. The sun paints everything golden- the windows on the buildings, the dead leaves that still cling to a couple trees. Your elbow bumps against his as the two of you walk. He tries to ignore the spark that shoots up his spine at the feeling. You're chatting away about something, someone in one of your classes who’s been annoying you lately. He's found he likes to listen to you talk.

When he turns to take the path through the park next to the athletics building, you stop in your tracks. He turns back, figuring you’ve seen something, but you’re just staring into the park, and at the large building behind it. He frowns.

“Everything alright?” He asks, quietly.

You nod. “I just. D’you think maybe we could walk to that cafe near here? I could really go for a chai latte.”

He nods- a drink does sound good. “Yeah, sure. D’you wanna walk through the park on the way? Won’t be much of a detour.”

The park is nice. It’s one of Oscar’s favorite places on campus. There’s grass and trees and a path that winds around the university’s baseball and soccer fields. But you’re staring at it with a much different feeling, if the look on your face tells him anything.

You shake your head. “No, let’s just…”

You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you take off down the sidewalk, heading away from the park. He’s left to follow in your footsteps, suddenly feeling like he really knows nothing about you at all.

…..

When Oscar thinks of home, now, he thinks of this. Not Australia, or the house, or even his family, really. He thinks of a jersey, a stick in his hand, and the scrape of his skates against the ice. Hockey, for all its cheering fans and yelling opponents and background music, is a strangely quiet sport. Maybe he’s just gotten good at blocking out the noise.

They’re warming up on the ice. He has warm up traditions, now, something he hasn’t had with teammates in years- he and Lando slap each other on the shoulders, and he and George always skate a lap together. It’s not anything huge or elaborate, but it means he’s part of the team, and that’s enough.

Max skates up to him, just at the end of warmup. He nudges his shoulder against Oscar’s through the padding. “Good?”

Oscar had a rough week in practice. It was the kind that would’ve had him benched for a month on his last team. Seb’s been nothing but supportive- constructive criticism was offered, sure, but he’s still on the ice today, so he figures that’s a good sign. He nods and turns to Max. His eyes flicker up into the stands. He shouldn’t know this, but he does- your seat is above Max’s head from this angle, up in the second section, front row. You’re wearing a jersey, probably Lando’s number if he had to guess, and sharing popcorn with Alex’s girlfriend, Lily. He smiles.

“Yeah. Good.” He nods.

Max nods in return, then skates away. Oscar follows.

When he scores later, and ties the game one to one, he looks to the same spot in the stands. Lando hits him on the back, hard, a bit too enthusiastic. You’re standing in front of your seat, arms around Lily, yelling, and he grins. He can’t help it. The smile doesn’t drop from his face for the rest of the game. The rink, the ice, and his teammates may feel like home, but the way you cheer for him feels awfully close to it, too.

At the party afterwards, you pour two shots of tequila and hand one to him. He takes it with a smile, grimaces at the taste, and laughs when you cough. He pats you on the back sympathetically, and when you take his hand two seconds later and drag him towards the beer pong table, he follows happily.

…..

December creeps up on Oscar, and with it, so does final exam week. Suddenly, it’s just… there, bearing down on him. He’s not exactly nervous about most of his exams- he’s prepared well, and though he’d never say it out loud, he’s pretty good at testing. But no matter how well he studies or how much he’s paid attention in class, exams still aren’t exactly fun.

He sees you a lot in the week leading up to it. You’re often in the kitchen, eating snacks with Max, or in the living room, quizzing Charles on vocab, or in Lando’s room taking a nap between classes. You’re stressed. He can tell. He does his best to help in any way he can- when he goes to the store, he picks up your favorite snacks and leaves them on the counter. He helps you study for the physics exam. When he finds you asleep on the couch in his living room on Saturday night, he carefully lays a blanket over you and turns off the lamp. He hopes some of it helps, just a little bit.

The next afternoon, Oscar stands in the lobby of the athletic training building. He and Max had headed over for the afternoon to do a workout together, more to get their minds off exams than anything else. Now he’s in the lobby, waiting for his team captain, and he’s staring. Laser focused. He's making a whole lot of connections all at once. The wheels are turning in his brain, and he’s sure if anyone’s watching him, he looks crazy. He jumps when someone slaps a hand against his shoulder. It’s Max.

“Hey,” his team captain says, shaking him slightly. “You look lost.”

Oscar frowns and turns back to the photo in front of him. Women’s Soccer, a team photo, from what would’ve been his freshman year at his previous school. He’d been looking at the photos while he waited- the lobby is lined with them, and some of them are actually pretty funny. Some of the faces in this one are familiar, people he’s seen in the gym off and on. One, however, had caught his eye.

“Is that who I think it is?” He asks, pointing at the left side of the picture in the third row.

When he turns back to Max, his face has changed. The teasing look is gone, replaced by something solemn and hard set. Max nods and tugs at his shoulder.

“Wait,” Oscar says, trying to stay planted while Max tries to drag him away. “But she-“

Max crosses his arms over his chest and studies Oscar, brows furrowed. “I know. It’s not my story to tell, yeah?”

Oscar nods dumbly. Max nods in response. Then he nods his head towards the door, as if he’s directing Oscar to follow him. He does, because he’s not sure what else to do, and he’s not going to get any more information from the photo. He knows what he saw, anyways. You, standing there with the whole team, in uniform, your name listed below the photo with the rest of your teammates.

If there’s one thing the Timberwolves do better than hockey, it’s soccer. The women’s team has been national champions multiple times. A spot on that team isn’t something someone gives up willingly. But you’re not on the team, not anymore. When Lando asked if you wanted to go to the gym with them, you’d replied that you “wouldn’t be caught dead at the athletic training building.” And you’d avoided the athletic park like the plague.

Max turns to him as they walk out of the building, and the confusion must still be evident on his face, because Max swears under his breath in some other language. Oscar’s too lost in thought to even wonder what language it is, exactly.

“Look, just-“ Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “Trust me, she’ll talk about it when she wants to.”

“Okay,” Oscar nods. “But, like, is she… okay?”

Max gives him a sad smile. “Yeah.”

Oscar hears the silent part in his head. She is now.

They walk home together in near silence. Oscar doesn’t know what to say. He’s sure Max doesn’t, either. When they get to the house, Alex is coming down the front steps, the door still open behind him. Oscar sees your boots in the entryway, your coat hanging on the hook. Alex ruffles his hair as he walks past, and Oscar ducks before he turns to Max.

“Don’t tell her?” He asks, and Max looks sheepish, like that was the exact thing he was about to do. “I mean. If you think she needs to know I saw it, then… sure. But I don’t want her to feel pressured to talk to me about it.”

Max wrinkles his nose and nods. “Okay. For now.”

Oscar nods. They’re in agreement, then. He walks in through the front door and he can hear you and Lando in the kitchen, singing along to whatever song is playing from the speaker. It’s family dinner night. Oscar tries to put the thoughts of you in a soccer team portrait out of his head.

He sits next to you at dinner as you pick at your food. It’s one of your favorite meals, but your appetite seems low. It has him feeling concerned. Max, on your other side, nudges you. Oscar watches the two of you have a quiet conversation and wishes he knew what you were feeling. You finally take a couple bites, and he tries not to show how relieved he is about it.

One by one, everyone wanders off to study and get ready for the week ahead. You stay sitting at the table, though. Oscar clears some plates and comes back to find you, a couple TimTams in hand. You take them with a soft smile.

“You alright?” He asks, quietly.

You nod. “Stressed.”

Oscar nods. “Anything I can do to help?”

You twist your mouth. “Probably not. I should really just go home.”

You don’t make any moves to get up. He sighs and sits down next to you. You drum your fingers on the worn wooden tabletop and set the cookies down next to your plate. You’re chewing on your lower lip, and you close your eyes and let out a breath through your nose.

“It’s like… my brain just won’t stop going,” you say. “Like everything I’ve read is just tumbling around in there and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“Objects in motion tend to stay in motion,” Oscar says, and you groan.

“Do not use physics metaphors on me right now,” you say, and when he starts laughing, you dissolve into giggles, too. “Gross.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly when you turn to look at him. “Why don’t I make some tea, and we can put it in travel mugs, and I’ll walk you home?”

A soft smile slips across your face. “That sounds really nice.”

He makes the tea exactly how both of you like it, pours it into the mugs, and ushers you towards the front door. You stop in the living room to say goodbye to Lando, who ruffles your hair, and Max, who holds onto your arm and says something to you, so quietly that you’re the only one who’ll hear it. Then Oscar heads outside, and you follow. It’s slightly dark, and chilly, but you’ve brought a jacket this time. You wrap both hands around the mug as you walk, a habit of yours that Oscar finds awfully endearing. The streetlights glow bright above your heads.

The walk is mostly silent. He reaches the entrance to the park, and on reflex again, he slows and turns to head down the path. You stop in your tracks and let out a pained little noise. Oscar’s stomach rolls. In the distance, the soccer field is lit up bright with floodlights. Something must’ve happened, to keep you from playing. You’d been good enough to be on the team. Something had changed. He turns and takes a step to continue down the sidewalk, but you stay planted there, staring. He pauses, holding his breath. It’s just the two of you, under the streetlamps, feet on the sidewalk.

“I used to play soccer,” you say, quietly, and his pulse jumps.

She’ll tell you when she’s ready. He hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He bites his lip and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket. You’re still staring out over the park, so he turns to stare, too. He feels you lean your shoulder against his, like you’re looking for support, and he leans into it, just to show he’s there.

“I got signed to play as a senior in high school,” you explain. “And, not to brag, but I was really good. Went through summer training camp and made friends with my teammates and got here and… then I fell just the right way at practice, or the wrong way, I guess,” you say, grimacing. “Fucked up my knee. I had to have surgery, twice, and even then, they pretty much told me I was done. That it would never heal right.”

Oscar’s heart sinks. His chest feels tight. He thinks of you, on the couch in the living room when he woke up feeling off and asked you to go on a run, how you’d said you’d messed up your knee. He thinks of Max and the concerned way he always watches you climb the stairs in the stands at the rink. He thinks of you, younger, like the picture in the athletics building, on the field, in pain. He feels sick to his stomach.

“And my teammates… they didn’t know how to act, I think. They didn’t know how to help, so they just didn’t try. So, suddenly I was no longer a soccer player, and I was alone, and…” you sigh. Oscar turns to face you, and he thinks there are tears in your eyes. “And then I met Lando, and the rest of the team, and the rest is history. But… there are some things that still get to me. The field… it holds a lot of bad memories, you know? And when I’m stressed like this it all comes flooding back.”

He nods. You’re not looking at him, even as he watches a tear roll down your cheek. He wants to reach out and wipe it away, but he wonders if that would be a step too far. He pulls his hands from his pockets. You swipe a hand against your cheeks and clear the tears, and then let your own hands hang at your sides. He takes a steadying breath, steels himself, and links his fingers with yours- casually, lightly, gently holding on. You squeeze his hand in reply- a thank you, he thinks. He does the same in return.

“Did Max tell you why I left my old school?” He asks, quietly.

“No,” you answer, voice low and tentative. “Max doesn’t tell people stuff like that.”

He shrugs, though he supposes that makes sense- he’d refused to tell Oscar what had happened to you. Max seems loyal like that. Oscar rolls a pebble beneath his shoe and listens to your breathing to remind himself you’re still there. He wants you to know this. Wants to share. Wants you to know he understands, at least a little bit.

“I got scouted by them my senior year,” he starts, closing his eyes. Like this, he’s almost right back in it. “And I was really excited. And then I got there and… the guys on the team were awful. I didn’t get any playing time, and they’d all been friends since they were kids, and I felt like such an outsider.” He kicks the pebble down the path lightly. “By the time my sophomore year rolled around, I hated it. I hated hockey. I’d spent my whole life doing nothing but that but I dreaded every practice. I was…”

He huffs. Squeezes his eyes shut tighter. He can feel the hits from his own teammates at practice. Can feel that same empty, lonely feeling sitting at the end of the bench. He can taste the blood in his mouth when he tried to stand up for himself and the team captain shoved him and the coach did nothing.

“It was fucked,” he says. He hates the way his voice wobbles. “So I quit. I walked out. I was done with hockey. I couldn’t even go near the rink for months.”

“But you’re here now,” you say, quietly.

He nods sharply. “I had this old coach- his name’s Mark. Showed up on his doorstep and told him the whole thing. He and Seb used to be teammates. So he got me a tryout. I refused, at first. And then Seb sent Max to come talk to me.”

He remembers that, clear as day, too. Max, bright and smiling, at his dorm room door. He knew who Max was, he had looked up to him for years. Max had walked in, planted himself on the floor in the room, and hadn’t left until Oscar changed his mind.

“I spent the summer training back home. Found my love for it again,” he explains. “But it wasn’t easy. I think I’m still working on it, sometimes.”

You hum next to him. You squeeze his hand again. His breath hitches. Your skin is warm against his. It makes his chest ache. He hadn’t known who he was without his sport. He thinks maybe you know that feeling better than anyone else.

“I’m sorry you got hurt,” he says into the night air. “And I know you must’ve heard it a billion times, and that I don’t really understand what it’s like to have it taken away like that. But…”

“But you get it,” you say, voice rough around the edges. “The lonely feeling.”

He nods and swallows against the lump in his throat. “And thank you. For making things less lonely here.”

“I’m sorry if I was too much,” you answer.

He just shakes his head. “I’m sorry I was so… stuck.”

You’re quiet for a few moments, before you squeeze his hand again. “Come on, let’s go on a walk.”

You knit your fingers with his, properly, and Oscar expects you to start down the sidewalk again. You don’t. Instead, your feet carry you down the path through the park. He understands now, that this place must hold awful memories. Reminders of what was supposed to be, what was taken away. You’re trusting him with this. It sits heavy on his shoulders.

He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask more questions. When you walk past the soccer field, he turns to sneak a glance at your face. There’s sadness in your eyes, but a smile on your lips. There’s a strength, there, too, that he finds starkly beautiful. You hold onto him tightly, and together, you make it through the park, all the way to your apartment.

He leaves you at the door with a quiet goodnight and a promise to see each other the next day for the regular study session. The exam is on Tuesday, so it’ll be his last excuse to spend time with you like that. He walks home in silence, through the park, and tries not to stare at the soccer goal. That night, he dreams of soccer fields and hockey rinks and you.

…..

When Oscar gets home just before your normal study time the next day, there’s music pouring out of the front door before he even opens it. It’s louder once he does. The house seems mostly empty, but someone is either having a very good or very bad day. He wavers in the doorway, wondering if he should call you. He’s still there when you walk in behind him, bumping into his shoulder. He turns to look at you, eyes wide. Yours are even wider.

“I don’t think we can study here,” he says, frowning.

You shake your head. “We can go to my place.”

So he packs up his things into his backpack, avoiding whatever is going on in Charles’ room that has him causing permanent damage to his eardrums. Then the two of you take off down the street, towards your apartment. He slows only slightly at the turn for the park, waiting to see what you’ll do. You turn down the path through the park and loop your arm in his. He looks away in the hopes that you don’t see the smile that creeps across his face.

Your apartment is, honestly, exactly how he’d always pictured it. It’s soft and cozy and colorful. There’s a well loved, overstuffed couch in the living room, a little table in the kitchen, and so much stuff on the walls. Music posters, photos blown up big, and… collages. Some in frames, some tacked up with tape, scattered across the place. Perfect mixtures of magazine cutouts and pieces of paper and he swears he even spots a dried flower on one.

“Wow,” he says, studying the one that hangs over the couch. “These are so cool.”

You’re in the kitchen, grabbing a snack, and you turn over your shoulder. “Oh. Thanks. I made a lot of them when I was injured. I had nothing better to do, yknow?”

He sees a chunk of an x-ray in the corner of the piece, and his heart twists. You walk up next to him, shoulder to shoulder. When he looks at you, you’re smiling softly. He likes that look on your face. He wants to keep it there, and suddenly he dreads studying physics because he knows how stressed you’re going to be.

“We’ll have to make some sometime,” you say, nudging your elbow against his. “There’s a billion hockey magazines in a closet at your house.”

“I don’t have an artistic bone in my body,” he says.

You laugh. “That’s the fun of collages. You don’t have to.”

He settles in on one end of the couch, and you settle into the other. The soft light of the lamp in the living room makes it feel warm, the same way your hand in his had felt the day before. He tries so, so hard to focus on physics. It’s just… he’s in your apartment, and you’re there, knees curled to your chest, brow furrowed in concentration, and… something about this feels so soft.

He clears his throat, opens his textbook, and flips to the review questions. “Alright. Ready?”

The two of you study for hours. Oscar doesn’t know when it happens, but at some point you move closer, so you can look off the same textbook. Physics terms and formulas and theories rattle around in his brain, all wrapped up with thoughts of you. The sun goes down, and the windows to the outside grow dark. He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay right here.

“My brain is full,” you mumble, between a yawn.

You drop your head against his shoulder, and his heart pounds in his chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, he knows it. You’re just tired, that’s all.

He nods in agreement. “Mine too. I can go home. We should get a good night’s sleep.”

You nod against his shoulder and then make no move to pull away. “In a minute,” you say. “Your arm is comfy.”

Butterflies- actual, real life butterflies, he swears it- swirl in his stomach. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s seen you fall asleep on Charles’ shoulder during movie nights, watched you curl up on Max’s bed and take a nap while everyone around you talked. He’s just another friend, another shoulder to lean on. This doesn’t mean anything, and besides, it shouldn’t mean anything, so why is his stomach swirling with butterflies, and why does his face feel hot?

When you finally pull away and help him pack up his things, he hopes you can’t tell how he’s feeling. You walk him to the door and wait for him to put on his shoes and jacket. It’s just so you can lock it behind him, he knows. But then you reach up and smooth the hair from his forehead and laugh, and his chest aches fiercely, and god, he could kiss you- not even really kiss you, just on the forehead or the cheek would do. He says goodnight instead and steps out into the hallway, then makes his feet carry him down the stairs and out to the sidewalk.

He walks past the soccer field and finds himself hoping that maybe you felt it too.

He gets up early the next morning and finds Max in the kitchen with coffee ready to go. He grabs two travel mugs- his, and yours. Max raises an eyebrow as he spreads cream cheese on a bagel. Oscar does the same in response.

“You were out late last night,” Max says, eyeing him.

He doesn’t bother asking how Max knows when he got back. He feels like it’s written plainly all over his face. He can feel the weight of you against his shoulder. Can feel your hand brushing his hair from his face. Can feel how much he wants to lean in. Max must see it.

“I was studying,” he says, carefully.

“With Bunny,” Max suggests, and Oscar nods. “But not here.”

“No, we got here and Charles was blasting music,” Oscar explains. “So we went to her place.”

“He failed an exam,” Max says, face scrunched up. “Well. He assumes he did. You know Charles.”

Oscar nods. Max is staring at him as he pours hot coffee into mugs. He’s not sure what the team captain is looking for, but he hopes he doesn’t find it.

“She told you,” he says, quietly, and Oscar looks up from the mugs, nearly spilling coffee all over.

He clears his throat. “Yeah.”

Max nods and finally turns back to his bagel. “Good.”

That’s that, then. He puts the lids on the coffee, and Max sends him out the door with two bagels- one for him, one for you. He almost feels like he’s passed some sort of test when Max gives him a sharp nod as he turns to leave, but he’s not sure which test it would even be.

He finds you in the lobby before the exam, hands off the coffee and the bagel and tells you he knows you’re going to do well. You smile brightly at him, and he swears it lights up the whole building.

“We’ve got this,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “And if we don’t, we’ll retake it together.”

He nods in agreement. The two of you sit on a bench and eat your bagels and drink your coffee. Oscar wishes he could attribute the warmth in his belly to the drink, but he’s pretty sure it has more to do with the way you smile up at him and the weight of your shoulder against his. Either way, it sends him into the exam with a good feeling, and that’s really all he can ask for.

…..

Oscar finds himself feeling sad when the holiday break rolls around this year. It’s a weird feeling. For years, he’s looked forward to December for this reason. The exams are over, he gets time off from school, a chance to go home or have his family visit, and a break from everything. He realizes, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, listening to Lando lugging a suitcase around, that he’s going to miss his friends when they leave for the break. It’s been two years since the last time he called his teammates friends.

He drags himself out of bed and into the hallway, because if Lando’s leaving, he wants to say goodbye. And sure enough, there he is, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and taking an enormous suitcase down the stairs one step at a time. Oscar spots you on the ground floor, watching in amusement, and he waves at you.

“Morning, Oscar,” you call out. “Ready for the break?”

He scrubs a hand through his hair and shrugs. “Yeah.”

You raise your brows. “That was convincing,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your lips.

He bites back a laugh, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of having called him out. “It’ll be nice to see my family. Just weird to have everyone gone, yknow?”

Lando, who’s made it down three stairs, turns to look at him. “Aw, he’s gonna miss us!” He coos, and Oscar feels his face go red.

Before he can jump to his own defense or try to come up with something to tease Lando about, you speak up from the bottom of the steps.

“Yeah, and we’re gonna miss him, Lando,” you say, shaking your head. “Jesus. Oscar, would you just shove him and the giant suitcase down the steps?”

Oscar’s trying not to dwell on you saying you’ll miss him, too. It shouldn’t affect him nearly as much as it does right now. It makes his stomach twist. He keeps the smile plastered on his face and forces a laugh, and Lando glares at him as menacingly as Lando can glare at anyone. He brushes off the feeling and grabs the side handle of Lando’s suitcase, then helps him lug it down the stairs. Lando shoots him a smile to replace the glare as they get it to the bottom floor. Then he pats him on the shoulder and ruffles his hair. Oscar winces.

“Bye, Piastri,” he says, grinning. “Have a good break.”

He pulls the giant suitcase towards the front door. You stay standing there, even as Lando steps outside and sighs at the sight of the front steps. Oscar steps off the staircase and lands near you, arms swinging at his sides.

“You’re staying here all break, right?” You ask.

He nods. “My family will be here Monday, though.”

“Nice,” you say, smiling wide. “Well. I bought more TimTams and Vegemite, so they should feel right at home.”

Warmth bubbles up in Oscar’s chest. “Thanks.”

You nod. The two of you stand there for a few seconds, and he wonders if you’re holding your breath, too. You shift back and forth on your feet, and then before he knows it, you’re against his chest, arms around him. He barely has time to hug you back before you pull away, and that’s the only bad part about it. He would hold you forever, if he could, he thinks. And honestly, that’s terrifying.

You pull away, and he hopes you don’t notice how red his cheeks are. “Bye, Oscar,” you say, almost shyly.

“Bye, Bunny,” he says back.

Lando calls your name from the front door, and you scurry off. He sighs. He swears he can still smell your shampoo, and then hates himself for knowing what your shampoo even smells like. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and turns back towards the stairs, ready to head back to his room, crawl back into bed, and go back to sleep. He jumps in shock when he finds Alex and George standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing.

“That was interesting, wasn’t it, Alex,” George says.

“Quite interesting, I’d say,” Alex nods, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Oscar rolls his eyes and takes the stairs two at a time. “You guys are creepy.”

They both just laugh as Oscar pushes past them and into his room. He shuts the door behind him, flops down onto the bed face first, and closes his eyes. Outside, he hears Logan’s car start up- the guy really needs to get the thing fixed, it’s loud as hell, but at least it still runs. He closes his eyes and reminds himself that it’ll only be a few weeks until you’re back in town. Then he wonders when having you around became so important to him. He rolls over, buries his face in the pillow, and goes to sleep.

notes: a lil osc pov!! thank you for reading! check out the winter break blurb, or find part 4 here!

tags: to be added or removed just let me know!! crossed out names were unable to be tagged- if it’s yours, shoot me a message!

main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @avg-golden-retriever @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofswordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom

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gglitch1dd · 1 month

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Cheating Dilf Izuku Pt3

Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader

Warning: Mentions of infidelity, BLOOD, VIOLENCE, mentions of a child's death, Canon typical terrorism and violence. READER DESCRETION IS ADVISED.

[PART 2] [PART 2.5] [Cheating Dilf Izuku MASTERLIST]

“You know why I like being friends with you?” Hanta asked as he looked over to Izuku who sat next to him as the plane slowly went down the runway, just having landed.

Izuku shook his head as he held a cup of juice in hand. “Nope.”

Hanta leaned back with champagne in his glass and an easy smile on his face, the first easy smile in a long time. He looked over to Izuku raised his glass to him. “Cause I get to travel on your private jet.” He stated bluntly making Izuku laugh in amusement.

You and your entire friend group had decided to take a vacation to a resort so that you could all get away from work. It was initially just going to be your family and the Seros, but then the Iidas and the Todorokis were free, then the Satos and then even Bakugou and Kirishima. Soon, you were all booked and flying.

Which is how you found yourself herding your boys out of the private jet one by one. “Hero, no running!” You shouted at your second youngest as you held Koda’s hand as you headed towards the VIP lounge where you would meet your friends. You sighed as you shook your head.

“Don’t worry mom.” Toshinori stated with a hand to your arm and a smile before doing a brisk jog towards where your boys had run off to. “WHAT DID MOM TELL YOU!” He shouted only making you laugh.

You were glad to see the boys so excited for a holiday. It had been just over a year since your last full family holiday and it was nice to go out again. You had to admit that it was a bit hard, packing for the boys and making sure you had all their documentation and realising that one of your boys wouldn’t be going on this trip with you.

You clutched the little stuffed rabbit toy that held just a little bit of your son’s ashes in it. It felt wrong to leave him behind, but then again it also felt wrong to go on this vacation at all despite how needed it was.

Izuku moved to pick up Koda and throw him in the air making the little boy let out a loud giggle. He hoisted him up onto his shoulders to sit there. “You good up there buddy?” He asked as he held onto Koda’s leg as his other hand carried one of the bags you had on the plane with you.

The little four-year old, nodded with a smile. “Yah.” He notified as he held onto his father tightly.

You smiled up at your little boy as you all headed out to collect your bags.

“Hey.”

You turned to look at Mina who gave you a gentle smile, coming up beside you and taking your arm. You gave her a trying smile. “Hi.” You said softly as you leaned against her gently but tried to focus back forward.

Mina’s eyebrows furrowed noticing how hard this was for you. She pulled you tighter against her as the two of you walked side by side. “Y/N…” You turned to look to her with a hum. You looked to Mina who had a sad smile on her face. You then noticed that in her other hand was a little stuffed teddy bear that looked like a cute spider. You knew that within that little teddy bear was the ashes of her daughter. She gave you a nod. “We’ll get through this.” She reminded you.

You smiled, remembering that out of everyone in this world, there were two other people who knew the pain you had been carrying in your heart for the past six months. “We always do.” You told her honestly.

Side by side, the two of you got your bags before heading to the VIP lounge. There you already found Tenya and Mei as well as Denki, Shinso and Jirou. Izuku and the other men got your luggage so long carried towards the pickup area for your hotel while you waited.

You sat in the waiting area with Momo, sipping on a cider when you noticed a certain large man heading towards all of your direction.

“Hey everyone! Sorry we’re late.” Eijiro said with a bright smile, his hair was it’s natural black with a few light grey strands now. He walked beside his new wife of two years who had a noticeable pregnancy bump to her and his daughter Satomi who had a bright smile as she pulled her own bag, and last but not least his youngest daughter, Reika, who was strapped to his chest dressed in a little Red Riot onesie and chewing on a toy.

“There they are!” Denki said with a broad grin. “We were afraid you wouldn’t show up.”

“And miss this?” Eijiro asked as he held his wife’s hand. “Not in the world.” He laughed. Ever since meeting his new wife its as if Eijiro got a piece of himself back again. He seemed brighter and happier since the divorce. Satomi immediately moved over to say her hellos and stand along with Toshinori and their friends.

Shoto looked left and right with a blank expression. “Where’s Bakugou?” He asked.

“Right here you icy hot bastard!” The loud voice of Bakugou Katsuki was heard as he pulled his bag along with a rather board looking Kane who kept headphones on his head as he walked beside his father. Katsuki held a scowl on his face as he carried his and his son’s passports. Katsuki grew sideburns now and still managed to look as burly and mean as ever, but it suited him. He tsked. “Stupid passport lady tried to confiscate my utility belt. Had to pull out my hero permit and everything.” He growled out annoyed.

Kane ignored his father as he walked over to you. He smiled. “Hey Aunty Y/N.” He greeted as he slid off his headphones.

You smiled up at him, putting a hand to his face. “Hey there baby. How have you been doing?” You asked with a sympathetic look. Ever since Eijiro and Katsuki’s divorce, Katsuki had won custody over Kane and the blond lived with him eighty percent of the time.

Kane shrugged looking more and more like his father everyday but still so young and so much softer too. “Same old same old.” He answered cryptically. You knew he wouldn’t answer you immediately. The poor boy had a habit of concealing his real feelings and keeping them away from everyone else. You gave him a sad smile and he took that as a cue to head over to Toshinori and Satomi, who happily accepted her older brother in a hug.

“Great. Now that we’re all here we can head to the hotel!” Tenya stated factually.

You leaned back in your lounge chair as you saw the kids have fun in the pool. Izuku was in the pool with the kids with Hanta and Sato too. They all looked like they were having a great time. Eijiro was at the grill with Shinso and Tenya, getting food started already. Your entire friendgroup had purchased the east side VIP part of the hotel, allowing you a whole lot of freedom and privacy.

Mina let out a hum as she was peering over her glasses at something. She glanced over at you for a moment before looking back forward. “Is it weird that I’m sorta rooting for us to be in-laws.” You raised an eyebrow at what she was saying. She motioned forward at the side of the pool.

You looked over there to see Toshinori sitting at the edge of the pool talking to Hina Sero, Mina and Hanta’s oldest daughter. He seemed like he was having a good time, talking while she laughed as she sat beside him. Unlike Mina she took after her father’s skin tone but had Mina’s eyes so it was easy to see the blush on her face.

You turned to look at Mina with a knowing expression. She looked at you with the same smug expression and laughed. “That would be interesting.” You stated as you decided to spectate a bit more. You noticed Kane was chasing Sonomi Todoroki (Shoto’s daughter) around with a water gun. Satomi was sitting not too far away keeping a lace cover up over herself as she sat in a one-piece swimming costume.

Your eyebrows furrowed for a moment. “Satomi.” At the sound of your voice, she turned around to look at you. She stood up and walked over to you. Satomi had always been on the chubby side but it suited her so well. You knew she was fit and she always tried to keep in shape but she was just naturally rounder. It made you sad to see her holding her body like that.

“Yes, Aunty Y/N? You need anything?” She asked you politely as she walked over to stand at your side.

“Are you alright? You haven’t dipped into the pool yet.” You expressed your observations as you looked up at her.

She hesitated but gave you a gentle smile. “I’m alright. I just… I don’t know if I’ll have fun.” She confided in you with a shrug.

“I’m sure you can have a great time! I’m sure Toshinori would do make sure of it. Toshinori!” You called to your son who was sitting at the edge of the pool. He turned to look at you, from the sound of your voice. He waved a hand and stood up, deciding to come to you.

Immediately you saw Satomi get pale. She shook her head, her dyed red hair in a braid over one side of her shoulder. “No, no it’s okay. Toshinori doesn’t have to-”

You waved a hand done. “Stuff and nonsense I’m sure he would be happy to.” You told her as Toshinori walked over.

“Yes mom?” He asked, folding his arms over his bare chest.

“Can you help Satomi have fun?” You asked him sweetly.

He grinned. “Sure. Come on, Satomi.” Without warning, you watched your son pick her up like she was a sack of flower.

Poor Satomi went red in the face as she kicked her legs. “TOSHI! Toshi put me down! I’m heavy!” She complained.

Toshinori seemed unbothered as he shook his head. “Nope. My dad is heavy, you aren’t.” He told her as he ran towards the pool, making the poor girl scream as he jumped inside with her.

“IZUKU!” Eijiro shouted as your husband seemed to have gotten out of the pool heading towards you. Eijiro pointed tongs towards your husband with a glare, before motioning to the pool where Satomi was being curried towards the edge by Toshi. “Get your son away from my daughter!”

“He’s harmless.” Izuku shrugged with a smug look on his face. He motioned to his chest. “He’s just like his old man.”

“Then we’re doomed.” Momo stated nonchalantly making Pony giggle.

You watched as Izuku walked over to you. You watched him with a raised eyebrow until suddenly you were up and off your chair. Your eyes grew wide as you were thrown over your husband’s shoulder. “Izuku? What are you doing?” You asked destressed.

“You haven’t gotten into the water yet.” He said factually.

You wiggled and kicked as you started to panic, not wanting to get into the cold water. “IZUKU PUT ME DOWN! RIGHT THIS INSTANT.”

He held your thighs tightly as he marched right over to the pool. “No can do, sweetheart.”

“BOYS! Help me!” You shouted. Hero ran over to you with laughs as he tried to pull you off of Izuku’s shoulder. “Attack your father!” Without hesitation, Izuku grabbed Hero by his boxers and flung him into the pool. Your face dropped in horror as your husband and your friends laughed as he got right into the pool. You squirmed as he moved you into his arms as you squealed and couldn’t help but laugh as he kept you in the cold water.

“No! Izuku no!” You laughed with shrieks as he kept large arms wrapped around you.

He laughed as he kept you there. “Uh uh! You’re gonna love this and I won’t let go of you till you do.” He chuckled.

You wiggled and squirmed in his grasp. You held onto him as tight as you could as he walked deeper into the water, deep enough that you couldn’t touch the floor of the large pool. You moved to wrap your legs around him as you clung to him. You couldn’t help but giggle but you glared at him.

Izuku gave you a smirk and a broad grin at having you in his arms, his hands holding onto you securely. “Well hello there.” He moved his eyebrows making you chuckle at how cringe he was, but you couldn’t help but enjoy it.

You let out a sigh as you didn’t think about it. You rested your head on his shoulder as you let him hold you in the water. You didn’t want to think, you didn’t want to remember. Right now you wanted to be as close to your husband as you have ever been in the past eight months. You closed your eyes at the warm feeling of his skin even in the cold water, just wanting to float there with him.

Izuku went stiff realising what you were doing. Although he did know you had a bit to drink but he wasn’t going to reject this. Lord knows he might never get this opportunity again, so he held you. He held you like he was going to lose you. Because he knew he already did once.

You adults laughed as you sat together outside on the balcony, away from the rooms. All the kids were in their rooms, hopefully asleep. You had all put your eldest in charge of watching them in exchange for giving them free time to do whatever they wanted tomorrow. You sat outside together around a large table as waiters brought drinks and snacks to you all.

“It’s been wonderful!” Eijiro’s new wife expressed as she leaned back, one of Eijiro’s large arms over her shoulders as they sat next to each other. She kept on hand resting on her pregnancy bump and the other held her cup of apple juice. “Reika was such an adjustment but her and Satomi are the best of friends despite the age gap.”

Eijiro hummed as he nodded his head. “We were worried about the big age gap thing but it seems like it was misplaced.” He chuckled.

You waved a hand down with a shrug sipping on what must have been your fifth alcoholic drink today, the effects already making your head hazy. Izuku hummed as he sat next to you, his arms wrapped around his chest as he sat with his own drink in front of him. “As long as you give the older one enough attention, they understand.”

“Coming from the Midoriyas, you know it’s real advice.” Denki stated motioning to the both of you making you all laugh. He had a gentle blush on his cheeks showing the effects of alcohol on him. “Honestly, I was surprised that Koda was your last one. I was whole heartedly expecting at least two more boys.”

Izuku laughed and so did you. “No.” You shook your head. “Five boys-” You caught yourself there. You swallowed down harshly as your grip on your glass turned harsh. Izuku quickly caught on, putting a hand to your shoulder. You tried not to shrug it off but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel that you needed it. Mina put a hand to your thigh with an emphathetic look. You let out a soft chuckle. “Four… four boys is enough for us, right now.” You shrugged it off. “Besides I’m sure the labour nurses are tired of seeing my face anyways.” You made a gentle joke to ease the mood.

“They sure are tired of seeing mine.” Pony let out with a gentle frown and a slight glare to Sato who put his hands up in surrender.

Denki took a sip of his drink and turned to Katsuki. The other blond had been otherwise silent the entire time, which was surprising considering that it was highly unlike the blond to do so. Denki tilted his head and motioned over to Katsuki. “Hey Kacchan.” Crimson eyes moved over to Denki. “How life been? You’ve been really hush-hush lately.” He let out surprisingly observant for someone who was half drunk already.

Katsuki shrugged with a gentle smirk on his face. “Nothing big. Just expecting someone soon.” He stated as he glanced at his phone screen before looking back at Denki.

“Oh?” The other blond male let out with a knowing look.

Eijiro held his tongue as he leaned back. Shoto however raised an eyebrow. “You’re seeing someone, Bakugou?” He asked.

“And you invited them here?” Mina let out unimpressed as she looked him up and down. It was safe to say that despite Katsuki having cheated on you in the past, Mina seemed to take it more personally than you did.

Katsuki shrugged as he leaned back. “I thought it would make things… interesting.” He stated as his crimson eyes moved to Izuku. “Especially since she has such good history with some of the people here.”

Your eyes flicked to Izuku who seemed just as confused as everyone else. However, catching your eye was a woman you never wanted to see again, least not on your vacation. “No…” You let out lowly. You looked to Izuku and the man looked annoyed as he rolled his eyes and brought a hand to his forehead.

“Hey everyone!” Walking over to your table was Ochaco. She was dressed in a pretty black dress as she did so, but her eyes were on you with a smug expression. Katsuki stood up and greeted her with a kiss to her cheek before moving to allow her to sit next to him.

You turned to look at Izuku, too drunk to bother to hide your expression. “What is she doing here?” You asked.

“Why can’t I be here?” Ochaco asked as she shrugged looking over at you.

“I don’t know.” Izuku looked over at you with a deep sigh, furrowed eyebrows.

You looked at him with a disbelieving look. “Did you invite her here?”

“Y/N I haven’t spoken to her in over a month, I swear.” He defended himself, telling the hard honest truth but you struggled to believe him.

“What’s the matter?” Mina asked with a hand to your side, wondering what on earth was going on and why you both seemed so tense to have Ochaco here.

Katsuki sat smugly across from you as he stared at you. Suddenly this entire holiday felt like one claustrophobic trap. This was all one elaborate scheme to have you cornered and look like a fool. “I have a question, Y/N?”

“I’m leaving.” You stated as you stood up from your seat. “I’m going to check up on the kids.”

“You can’t even answer one question?” Katsuki laughed as he looked up at you. “Like how you allow Deku, of all people, to cheat on you and you stayed with him but when I did it, you dumped me easier than you could breathe?”

“I beg your finest pardon?” Denki let out, sobering up quickly as all eyes went onto you and Izuku.

You stiffened at the question as you looked at Katsuki. He was doing this on purpose. He always did this on purpose. Getting you in an ugly position forcing you to side with him or entertain his position.

“Hold on!” Hanta let out, his eyes wide as he looked to Izuku. “You did what!?”

“Tell me, Y/N.”

Izuku stood up and pointed a finger at Katsuki with a warning glint in his eyes. “I’m warning you Kacchan, shut it! Y/N…” Izuku looked at you as he placed a hot hand to your shoulder. “Lets go. It’s late.”

“Don’t speak fo-”

“If you open your mouth again.” Izuku left open endedly with a flash of lightning in his eyes. “Yes, I cheated. Yes, I regret it more than I’ve regretted anything in my life. Yes, it was a mistake and yes Y/N knows about it. Yes, I stopped talking to Ochaco the moment Y/N and I talked about it and have no intention of continuing anything with her! So please!” He sighed as he clearly seemed like he was at his wits end. “Tonight can not get any worse!” Suddenly his phone rang making him groan as he pulled it out of his pocket. “WHAT!”

“Deku sir… Sorry to bother you on your holiday but there’s a Code S.”

Izuku moved a hand to the bridge of his nose. He was beginning to get a headache and as much as he wanted to put down the phone, he knew it was important. He had strictly told his sidekicks not to call him unless it was a Grade A or S level emergency. “Who is it?”

“It’s… It’s Jigsaw sir… He’s escaped out of tarturus.”

You immediately noticed the change in Izuku’s demeanour as he went pale. You could tell by how stiff he went and how his face fell. You felt uneasy as you looked at him with a questioning look.

Izuku swallowed down hard. “How long?”

“We aren’t sure sir. It could be hours since the security video was on repeat so we aren’t sure.”

Izuku let out a deep sigh as he furrowed his eyebrows, fear and anxiety bubbling in his chest as he realised just how bad this situation was. This was bad, very bad. Jigsaw could be anywhere and the last thing that you all needed this holiday. You watched as Izuku’s hold on his phone tightened as he scowled. “Ground every flight in this country, I don’t want him getting out. Send four jets here and get the bunker ready in my agency! I want every available unit scowering the country for him until he is found!”

“Yes, Deku sir.”

“Izuku.” You placed a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, pulling him out of his ProHero mode that had overcome him. Your eyebrows were furrowed in worry as you looked up at him, concern etched onto your face at the sound of his voice and the instructions he was giving to whoever he was on the phone with. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

Izuku hesitated to tell you but he knew it would be wiser to do so. He looked up at everyone before looking back down at you, putting down the call. “Jigsaw escaped.”

The glass you held in your hands shattered on the ground at the name you heard. Your entire body froze as pure fear rushed through your veins like cold water. Mina went pale at the news and Hanta looked visibly sick. Everyone immediately went on edge.

The name of the villain that had intentionally stalked you and your friends. The name of the villain that had hunted down your son’s preschool and killed two security guards and injured one teacher. The name of the villain that had slaughtered your son and Mina’s daughter.

“The boys…” You whispered, remembering that you weren’t currently with your sons. “Where are the children?” You asked loudly, remembering that you never agreed with Toshinori where on earth him and his friends would be watching over the other kids.

Izuku immediately saw the worry and felt it too. He turned to look at Katsuki with a serious look, both men putting aside their petty rivalry and issues for this situation. “Kacchan-”

“I’ll tell the hotel to evacuate.” He stated as he was already out of his seat and running towards the lobby.

Izuku glanced at his phone as a message hit his device. “Everyone grab the kids and head to the minibuses. Get to the airport as soon as possible.” He instructed.

Mei nodded. “I’ll go get them all lined up for us to leave.” She stated, but you were already kicking out of your space beside him and racing towards the elevators to head upstairs.

Suddenly you felt yourself lifted off your feet. You turned to see Izuku had you in his arms and with a flash of electricity around him, he was sprinting towards the staircase, knowing that that way would be faster than taking the elevator. Once on the floor that you kids were on, Tenya right on your tail, he put you down on the ground.

“TOSHINORI!” You shouted as you ran to your own family rooms. You took the keycard out of your back pocket and tapped it to allow access into the room. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you entered the room.

A few faces turned to look at you. You counted three of your boys, Satomi, her little sister, Hina and her younger brother. The girls seemed to be in charge of looking after the younger kids but you couldn’t see Kane or Toshinori.

“Satomi! Where is Toshi and Kane?” You asked her.

At the sound of panic in her voice she stood up with a worried look. “They went to go get drinks downstairs at the hotel café. Why?”

You felt worry fill you. You could hear your husband shouting somewhere in the background but beyond that you could barely hear anything over your beating heart. “Take everyone and get downstairs to the lobby! Your parents are waiting for you there and don’t stop for anything other than each other.”

She didn’t hesitate and nether did Hina as they both nodded and turned to grab the kids and heard them out. You ran out to the hallway, seeing Izuku flash back into the corridor with the other access keys from your friends. He looked up at you. “Where are the kids?”

“With Satomi and Hina but Toshinori and Kane aren’t there!” You told him as you ran towards the staircase. “I’m going to go get them! Meet me in the lobby!” You shouted, not waiting for a response as you raced down the staircase.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, even as you forced your body that felt like it was totally detached from your head. This was your worst nightmare all over again. The fear of not knowing. You felt like you could barely think let alone move your body. You ran out to the lobby, heading down a corridor as suddenly the lights of the hotel flashed red, indicating an emergency.

It seems as though Katsuki did what he did best and managed to get the hotel in evacuation mode. You tried to remind yourself that there was a slim chance that Jigsaw was here. That you were probably all over reacting and there was no reason to fear.

Or that’s what you were telling yourself until you saw the café.

You stilled as you saw a dead body of the barrista slumped over the counter and other pools of blood around the place. Your breath got caught in your throat as you realised that this scene couldn’t have been caused naturally. You took a hesitant step, looking around trying to catch a glimpse of blond or green hair that you knew all too well. But then you noticed that another door leading down to the parking was open, blood on the handles showing that someone had gone that way.

You fumbled to grab your phone as you ran in that direction, heading to the staircase beyond the door. You entered the stairwell that was dark besides the flashing lights. You kept one hand on the railing as you ran down, being careful of blood on the floor. You texted to Izuku that you were heading down to the underground parking area.

You pushed open the final door heading there when you heard an explosion.

Kane threw an explosion at the large villains face but his hand got caught. His eyes went wide as he was thrown against a car, causing the car alarm to go off. You bit back a scream as you saw a flash of green as Toshinori held back the villain from getting closer to his best friend. He let out a grunt as he ducked and used a hard kick, in the same style as his dad, to the villains face causing the larger man to stumble, but a sneer went to his face as he grabbed your son and held him in a headlock.

“TOSHINORI!”

At the sound of your voice, Toshinori’s eyes looked up at you. His beautiful eyes were filled with fear as he looked at you. He let out a struggling voice as he gripped at the arm that held his neck trying to suffocate him. “Mom-” He coughed out.

“Well, well, well… Mrs Midoriya.” At the sound of a voice you hadn’t heard since the trial, you felt yourself still in terror. A deep laugh arose from the villains throat as he gave you a bloody smile. He looked at you amused as his eyes, black and red were locked onto you. He was still dressed in his inmate uniform of Tartarus supreme prison as he stood in front of you. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. And here I was thinking I’d have to drag this one’s body for you to see after I killed him.”

You shook your head as you took a step forward. “Please…” Your voice broke as you reached your hands out, terror filling your very being as he held your son. “Please don’t kill another one of my boys. Just let him go.”

“Oh but that wouldn’t be fun, now would it?” He let out with a tilt of his head as you saw him drop Toshinori on the ground.

You saw his big foot move to stand on top of your son’s head earning a shout from Toshinori. Your legs seemed to give out as you fell to your knees frozen in fear. Toshinori let out a cry in strangled fear and pain as he coughed out. “Mom! Mom! Get out of here!” He shouted as he tried to activate One for All to push the large villain off of him. “MOMMA!” He screamed to you.

A deep chuckle came from Jigsaw as he pressed down harder. “Now isn’t this familiar?” He let out as he thought back almost lamenting. “Your boys must really love you because his brother did the exact same thing before a crushed his skull in. Always screaming for their mother. You must be such a great one for them to do that.”

“Please.” You sobbed out. “Let him go! Let them live! HE’S MY BOY!”

Jigsaw nodded. “Your eldest, and your husband’s heir. Killing him would probably leave more of an impact than the little one did.” He stated with a nod. “That makes sense to me.”

You saw Toshinori was crying but he had a smile on his face, forcing himself to smile. You couldn’t let him kill another one of your boys. Another one of your little sprouts.

Toshinori… Your eldest. Your first. You could still remember the feeling of him pressed against your chest when you gave birth to him. You remembered his giggle and his laughter. You remembered him reaching out to you as he took his first steps. You remembered being his first words. You remembered him dancing with you at the Mother and Son’s dance. You remembered how much he cared for you and took so much of your worries and burden onto himself.

He was your boy.

He was your sweet little boy.

“PLEASE!” You sobbed, tears streaming down your eyes. “Kill me instead!” At the sound of your ultimatum, Toshinori’s face fell. “Take me!” You shouted as you put a hand to your chest. “I’m the one that gave Deku everything he has now! You want your revenge on my husband, take me instead! Please I’ll do anything! Just… just don’t kill my baby.” You let out with crippled sobs as you dropped your head in a bow, begging and pleading that that would appease him.

Jigsaw was silent, before lifting his foot off of Toshinori. “That sounds interesting.” He let out amusedly.

“NO!” Toshinori shrieked as he tried to scramble over to you. You lifted your head finally noticing he was free. “MOM! MO-” Suddenly Jigsaw grabbed Toshinori’s arm and twisted it funny, making you hear an audible snap as your son shouted in pure agony.

“TOSHINORI!” You burst forward.

Jigsaw kicked your son away, only hurting him so that he would be too blinded by the pain to come and help you. Suddenly you found your wrist being gripped as you were pulled up with a hand to your neck. You stilled realising that this was it. That you made your choice and you could only pray to God that this demon kept to his word.

Toshinori was laying near a knocked out Kane, who had blood dripping from the top of his head. Toshinori looked up in pain, tears in his eyes as he tried using his good arm to get up and get to you. “Mom…” He let out weakly.

You forced a wavering smile to your face. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay.” You lied to him as you kept your eyes on him. “I love you. I love you so much! You’re such a good boy, always know that.” You told him with a nod of your head. Your hands were shaking as the reality of being at deaths door made your body grow cold.

Right as his grip on you turned tough.

“Let go of my wife.” The parking grew quiet as your eyes moved. You heard the voice of your husband but you couldn’t see him, but you could tell that Jigsaw had grown stiff.

“Well isn’t this cute.”

You were suddenly thrusted onto the ground, your hands barely catching you in time as you landed on the floor. You shakily lifted yourself up as you turned to see that Izuku had his hands on Jigsaw’s neck, a second away from snapping it. His hair was glowing white and his eyes buzzed with the power of One for All as he stood behind the villain, keeping him still.

Jigsaw chuckled. “Looks like you were fast enough to stop this one, huh, Deku?” Your husband didn’t comment as he stayed quiet. He glanced at you for less than a second, making sure you were okay before flicking his eyes back down to Jigsaw. His hands gripped the villain tighter. A laugh came out of the grade S villain. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He said singsong. “I’ve rigged explosions to every one of these pillars underground. The moment I die, my quirk will go off and the entire building will come collapsing down ontop of you and your precious wife and son.”

Izuku knew he wasn’t bluffing. He had seen Jigsaw’s quirk work before and it was horrifying. Entire puzzle piece looking holes could be found wherever he left, whether in buildings or people. Izuku swallowed down hard but stayed where he was.

“Y/N, get Toshinori and Kane out of here. I’m going to buy you some time.”

You trusted your husband wholeheartedly, so you did what he said and you ran towards Toshinori and Kane. You quickly helped Toshinori to his feet, despite the pain he was in and you carefully got Kane’s dead weight on your back as you carried him whilst he was unconscious. You carefully ran towards the opening to the car ramp that led up towards the outside to the street. You ushered Toshinori forward, forcing him to go around the boom gate when you paused.

You realised that izuku wasn’t fighting Jigsaw. He was just standing there.

You turned to look at Izuku and that’s when you realised what he was going to do. Your eyes widened in horror as you were about to turn around and run to him.

“TOSHINORI GRAB YOUR MOTHER!” Immediately you felt blackwhip surround you, as Toshinori kept you in place, instinctively listening to his father’s instructions and not thinking first.

“IZUKU-”

“Y/N, take care of the boys for me!” He told you sincerely with a broken smile as he looked at you, tears in his green eyes but surety. “I’m so sorry for what I did. I don’t deserve you. You are an amazing wife and I don’t deserve you.”

“NO!” you shrieked.

“Toshinori get your mother out of here NOW!” Your husband shouted.

Toshinori was confused but he pulled you along anyways out of the parking area. You felt your eyes burn as you saw the last glimpses of Izuku. You saw a tear leave his eyes as he smiled. His hands moved and a scream left your throat as suddenly everything went white.

“IZUKU!”

-Glitch1d

#izuku midoriya x reader #mha izuku #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #deku x reader #bnha midoriya #midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku angst #izuku midoriya #deku x reader angst #dilf deku #dilf midoriya #dilf izuku midoriya #izuku x reader angst #midoriya x reader #tw child death #tw violence #tw assault

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 4 months

Text

ON AN AUGUST night in 2003, a young woman who went by the name Paulina sank into the sofa of her modest, rented apartment, opened up her laptop, and began talking about sex with a man she’d recently met in a Yahoo chat group. His name was Stephen Bolen. His first communications had been terse, but he soon warmed to Paulina. It didn’t take long for both of them to begin to open up.

Paulina had told Bolen she lived in the Atlanta area, that she had a three-year-old daughter, that her daughter’s father was no longer in the picture. Soon, she was sharing more intimate details: what it was like growing up a skinny white girl in a rough neighborhood outside of D.C.; how her dad, a Marine, had died by suicide two weeks before she was born; how her mom had been emotionally and physically abusive, and had never really shown her love. How she’d had a sexual relationship with her stepfather.

Paulina would put her daughter to bed and then she and Bolen would chat throughout the night, over Yahoo and sometimes on the phone. The back-and-forth could feel like dating, but with an added element of danger and risk: Both Paulina and Bolen knew they were tiptoeing up to a line to see if they trusted each other enough to cross it. It could take a while to figure that out.

Eventually, Bolen asked Paulina to send pictures of her daughter, and she agreed to do so, though the ones she’d shared were chaste — the little girl clothed and her face turned away from the camera or obscured behind an untamable halo of blond curls. After seeing the pictures, Bolen asked to meet. While a lot of the men Paulina had encountered in chatrooms like “Sex With Younger” just wanted to trade images and videos of children, to expand their illicit collections, Bolen was a “traveler,” someone looking to act upon his obsessions.

On Sept. 17, just as they’d arranged, Paulina sat on a bench outside Perimeter Mall with a stroller parked in front of her, scanning the parking lot nervously. Part of her hoped Bolen wouldn’t show. When he did, she could see he was handsome, a preppy guy in a pink polo shirt and khakis. “Paulina?” he asked eagerly. She nodded. As he smiled and pulled back the blanket draped across the stroller, he found himself surrounded, handcuffs slipped around his wrists.

“Paulina” watched his face fall, his confusion giving way to distress as FBI agents took him into custody. It was her first undercover arrest. It would be the first of many.

[long read]

IF ONE WANTED to hide in plain sight, one could do no better than the tidy, suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of St. Louis, where FBI Special Agent Nikki Badolato now resides. The well-tended, two-story homes are so pleasantly indistinct that I could hardly tell you what hers looks like, even if it were safe for me to do so, which it is not. Suffice to say that Midwestern comfort and conformity unspool around every gently winding curve. Here Badolato has raised her two children, a daughter who is now in college and a son who is a junior at a local high school. When planning a neighborhood scavenger hunt or tending the community garden, Badolato does not often mention her many years as head of the Child Exploitation Task Force, a joint effort between the feds and local law enforcement that targets some of the country’s most heinous crimes. Open a cabinet in her kitchen, however, and a government-issued Glock 42 can be found stowed away between the vitamins and mixing bowls.

On a sunny morning this past October, Badolato sat at her dining room table, scrapbooks and albums spread out before her on the dark wood. There was the acceptance letter she’d received from the bureau the spring of her senior year of high school, after a representative had shown up to administer a test in the typewriting room. “I chose to wear a red dress and red heels,” she says of her first day as an FBI mail clerk, two weeks after her 18th birthday. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I guess maybe I was trying to go in bold?” She pauses at a picture of herself on the gun range at Quantico almost 10 years later, her shoulders squared and her caramel hair pulled back into a ponytail as she fires off rounds. By then, she’d married a man she met just after high school, had a little girl, completed college at night, and been accepted into agent training in the heady days after 9/11. She’d seen her first dead body only a few weeks into the job, after the pursuit of a bank robber ended with a shootout in a Walmart. When Badolato got to the scene, the body was still warm, and the perp’s head was resting on a bag of cookies. “It was surreal,” she says. “How many times have you been in a Walmart and walked down Aisle 4, not really expecting there to be a dead person with his head lying on a bag of Chips Ahoy?”

Badolato wasn’t deterred. She felt like the bureau saved her, plucked her out of a shitty home life, and gave her prospects and purpose. As a new agent, she was intent on proving herself worthy. “My training agent told me, ‘You know, Nikki, it’s a marathon, not a sprint,’ ” she says. “I was like, ‘That’s ridiculous. I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.’ ” She turned a few pages to show a picture of the 391 kilos of cocaine and 140 pounds of meth she’d recovered on a single raid during a stint with a cartel squad, then pointed out another in which she poses with a five-year-old child she’d rescued, the little girl’s hair cut short because the kidnapper had wanted her to look like a boy. But the keepsake she really wants to find is the card that Bolen’s wife had pressed into her hand at his sentencing, the one with the picture of their children — a blond girl of about three years and a tiny baby — and the words “These are the faces of the children you protect each day.” Bolen’s wife had been the only one she’d ever encountered who had lobbied for her husband to receive the maximum sentence. Some wives accused the FBI of planting evidence inside computers. Most seemed intent on clinging to their delusions. (Attempts to reach Bolen for comment were unsuccessful.)

“Right now some little girl is being dropped off in the parking lot of a motel. There are four girls holed up in a hotel next to a McDonald’s. It is happening all the time.”

Which, Badolato has come to understand, is the way it goes with child trafficking and sexual abuse. She had invited me into her home — had agreed to speak on the record about her decades-long career working undercover — because when it comes to the crimes she’s spent her career fighting, she has had enough of the delusions people are under. She’s had enough of the way movies like Sound of Freedom both glamorize and trivialize the work she and her colleagues do, enough of the idea that swashbuckling white men burst through doors and rescue trafficked children with a Bible in one hand and a firearm in the other, enough of conspiracy theories about Hollywood and Washington that detract from the real root causes of why children are trafficked and abused. “Human trafficking is not the movie Pretty Woman — the girl doesn’t get the guy — and it’s not the movie Taken, where people are kidnapped in a foreign country and sold on the black market, or shipped in a container across the world,” one of the detectives who worked on Badolato’s task force tells me. “I’m not saying that doesn’t ever happen, but it’s not what we’re seeing.”

What they are seeing is a lot more insidious and a lot more homegrown. A report released in 2018 by the State Department ranked the U.S. as one of the worst countries in the world for human trafficking. While the Department of Justice has estimated that between 14,500 and 17,500 foreign nationals are trafficked into this country every year, this number pales in comparison to the number of American minors who are trafficked within it: A 2009 Department of Health and Human Services review of human trafficking into and within the United States found that roughly 199,000 American minors are sexually exploited each year, and that between 244,000 and 325,000 American youths are considered to be at risk of being trafficked specifically in the sex industry. Heartbreakingly, many of these children are victimized not by strangers who’ve abducted them from mall parking lots but rather by people they know and trust: Studies have found that as much as 44 percent of victims are trafficked by family members, most often parents (and not infrequently parents who were trafficked themselves). Between 2011 and 2020, there was an 84 percent increase in the number of people prosecuted for a federal human-trafficking offense. Of the defendants charged in 2020, 92 percent were male, 63 percent were white, 66 percent had no prior convictions, and 95 percent were U.S. citizens.

Badolato started her career as an FBI agent in some of the earliest days that children could be bought, sold, and traded online. As the internet-porn industry mushroomed, its most lucrative branch turned out to be that of child sexual-abuse materials (the term “child pornography” is no longer used by those in the field, as it implies consent). And as demand for these images increased, so did the abuse that led to their creation.

In 2003, just a few months after Badolato graduated from Quantico, a Crimes Against Children squad was formed in the Atlanta office where she’d been stationed. By then, the FBI was starting to get a handle on the extent of the problem — if not exactly what to do about it. At a weeklong training in Baltimore, Badolato was given a tour of the darkest underbelly of fetish chat groups and then instructed to figure out how to infiltrate. “Everyone was a little nervous,” she explains of the directive. “It was a process, a direction that was new.” Agents were told that they would need to come up with a “persona” and a “story,” and that they would likely have to provide images of children to “prove” they had a minor on offer. They were also told that they could use images of their own children, if they were comfortable doing so (the FBI no longer endorses this policy).

Badolato’s unit with a kidnapping victim after her recovery in 2011. A Health and Human Services review found that roughly 199,000 American minors are sexually exploited each year, and that as many as 325,000 American youths are considered to be at risk of being trafficked in the sex industry.

Badolato developed “Paulina” based on her understanding that any persona would need to share most of her own backstory and traits. “That’s the only way you can really do undercover work,” Badolato says. “People can tell the sincerity in what you’re saying, so there has to be a level of genuineness, but then you just add this criminal element to it.” Most of the things Badolato had told Bolen were true: where she was from, her family background, the monstrousness of her mother, a woman who she says would pass out cigarettes and beers to Badolato’s 13-year-old friends in a state of manic permissiveness one minute and fly into a violent rage about a piece of lint on the floor the next. (Badolato’s mother declined to comment for this article, but a childhood friend corroborated Badolato’s account.) It was true that growing up in an unstable home with a string of stepdads, she had never really felt loved, true that she had divorced her first husband, true that she was raising their three-year-old daughter on her own. The only thing that wasn’t true was her tale of being molested, her initiation into the “lifestyle” — to use the chatroom parlance — that Paulina said she now wanted for her daughter. As Badolato had familiarized herself with the language and behaviors of the chatrooms, she’d honed that added criminal element, imagining what psychological conditions might believably lead a parent to traffic their own child and how those conditions could be grafted onto her real life story. She already had a history of abuse; it was not hard to extrapolate to a fictional stepfather who had seemed to provide a gentle counterpoint, showing her love and making her feel special when no one else had, even if others couldn’t understand. From there, it was easy to convince the chatroom participants that she shared their belief — or justification — that most people had it all wrong and that “child love” was natural, and could even be beneficial for the child.

Badolato estimates that she has arrested more than a thousand people; not one of those arrests has failed to end in a conviction. She didn’t know until she was in the thick of it that most agents refuse this sort of work, that most can’t even pretend to forge a relationship with someone looking to victimize a child. But she could. “Paulina,” she points out, is not a name she chose at random; it’s similar to her own mother’s name. Badolato says she had grown up learning to compartmentalize for the sake of her own emotional survival. She’d perfected the art of engaging with someone whose actions she couldn’t stand. Doing this work had felt like a way of taking her trauma and putting it to good use, of leveraging her past as a safeguard against her daughter’s and other children’s futures.

Of course there were moments that were hard to take — when suspects mentioned which brands of lubrication were best or whether or not a parent might hold a child down. There were times when she knew that even talking about these things was a turn-on for these men, times when the conversations made her nauseous, times when she’d lie awake all night or play back a recording and think, “Holy shit, I listened to this? I said these words?” But she kept faith in the mission. She reminded herself that the pictures she sent of her daughter — the beautiful, little girl sleeping in the next room — did not represent a real child on offer. “I was thinking, ‘If I send this obscure picture of my daughter and he acts on it, then he’s never going to harm my daughter or anybody else’s,’ ” Badolato says now. “I was presenting a fake girl to save a real one.”

KYLE PARKS SEEMED to think he could get away with anything. He seemed to think, for instance, that he could get away with running a brothel, a 1-900 sex line, and a housecleaning company out of the same Columbus, Ohio, office park and under the same oxy-moronic name, XXXREC and Hygiene Services. He seemed to think he could invite one young woman and five teenagers (four of whom he had only just met) on a road trip to Florida, but instead deposit them in two rooms of a Red Roof Inn in St. Charles, Missouri. When they piled out of the minivan — high on the drugs he’d given them — saw snow falling and asked to be taken home, he thought he could make a little money off them first. All it took was a few ads in Backpage — the Craigslist of sex advertisements — and men began showing up.

Even after things started going south for him, Parks couldn’t fathom that he wouldn’t prevail. When someone alerted law enforcement as to what was going on, Parks (who, according to legal documents, had been out getting food when the police showed up) burst into the precinct the next morning looking to bail his “friend” out. When questioned about the 88 condoms found in the back of his van, he said they had been prescribed to him by a doctor. After being taken into custody, he protested that he was being set up. Most people would have cut their losses and pleaded guilty, but not Parks. He thought he could take his case to court and win.

And it wasn’t impossible to imagine that he might. Badolato knew that even the tightest cases could go sideways when put before 12 people who would inevitably enter the courtroom with a cinematic sense of what sex trafficking was supposed to be. In fact, it wasn’t just the jury that Badolato knew she would need to convince; it was also often the victims themselves, young people who had internalized the exact same misconceptions about trafficking that the jury had — along with any number of other judgments society had thrown their way — and who were loath to submit themselves to a courtroom full of more judgment.

Of all of Parks’ underage victims, the hardest to pin down had been a 17-year-old we’ll call Sierra. Once she returned to Columbus, Sierra seemed to basically disappear. Calls to her mother’s number went unanswered. When one of the other victims managed to track her down in December 2016, a month before the case was to go to trial, Sierra agreed to meet Badolato on a blighted Columbus block with a string of dilapidated homes, climbing into the bureau’s Chevy Malibu with matted hair, dirty clothes, and a wary expression.

By this time, Badolato had remarried, had a second child, relocated to St. Louis, and taken over as head of the Child Exploitation Joint Task Force, which had become one of the most productive FBI teams in the country in terms of arrests and convictions. Meanwhile, as the internet streamlined the process of buying or selling any good or service, trafficking had become one of the fastest-growing criminal enterprises, estimated by the Department of Homeland Security to bring in $150 billion globally and considered by many criminals to be a superior business model: If caught, the sentences were often lighter than those for peddling drugs; and unlike crack or heroin, the same product could be “used” again and again and again.

Badolato taught her team of 20 how to do the online undercover work she’d trailblazed in Atlanta, tracking the movements of child-abuse material through the online underworld and then prosecuting those who distributed and produced it. Her new squad also initiated her in the type of undercover work it had been doing before her arrival: covert sting operations in which a detective would pose as a john, set up a “date,” and then meet said date in a hotel room fitted out with hidden recording devices while, in the next room over, a taskforce team listened in, waiting for the code word that would let them know that enough evidence had been gathered for them to swoop in and shut the op down. This had proved a very effective technique for getting convictions, but Badolato’s arrival coincided with both a growing sentiment that consensual sex work had been over-criminalized and an increasing awareness that what looked like consensual sex work might actually be trafficking, no matter what the “date” professed in that hotel room.

Badolato has a tendency to say aloud the things she notices — about you, about others, about situations — observations that are not at all unkind but are perceptive enough that most people would keep them to themselves. She points out when someone deflects, and she has a sharp eye for defense mechanisms. She once casually mentions my tendency to mirror other people’s vocal and speech patterns. She is not shy about bringing up the emotional and physical abuse she says she experienced as a child, and she is quick to comment when someone is making excuses for someone else’s behavior. It was soon clear to her colleagues that Badolato brought a trauma-informed mentality to the work, a tendency to look beyond what someone was doing and instead try to parse why they were doing it. And she was relentless: While some squads did one or two trafficking sting ops a year, her team was doing four or five a month. In addition to the hotel rooms reserved for the john and the team, they would have a social worker set up in a third room, ready to offer services to the victims. They would have lookouts stationed to see who might be dropping the date off. If that date was found to be underage, the case was automatically classified as trafficking. But even if they weren’t, Badolato’s team was primed to get to the bottom of what was going on, to figure out whether they were being manipulated or coerced, and by whom.

“If I could put my hands on a pimp, that’s what I wanted,” says Jeff Roediger, a St. Louis county detective who was the “john” for many of Badolato’s sting ops and who makes clear that the team was not interested in policing voluntary sex work. “When I had those types of cases, and I knew they were being sincere with me, I wouldn’t book them,” he says. “It was all about talking to the girls. It’s not like in the movies where they come running to you. You know, ‘Thanks, you rescued me!’ It’s not like that. A lot of them try to bullshit you at first — ‘That’s my boyfriend, blah blah blah’— but once I talked to them for a while, they would become more forthcoming.”

Badolato’s unit was one of the first in the country to take on this “progressive and proactive” approach, as she puts it. Soon, St. Louis looked like a sex-trafficking capital — not because it was actually trafficking more victims than other cities but because the task force was so aggressively pursuing those cases, and classifying them as what they were. “I mean, I was working in vice for years,” says Roediger. “Back in the day, it was always ‘prostitution,’ ‘prostitution,’ ‘prostitution’ — until we started to figure it out a little bit, until we started digging a little deeper.”

Once they did, the task force found that roughly a third of the sex-trafficking victims they recovered were under the age of 17 — and they began to see the reach of the problem. Kids were being trafficked out of every hotel in the area, from the seediest roach motel to the fanciest Ritz-Carlton. They were being trafficked every time of day and by every socioeconomic group (“Before you go do brain surgery, you got to bust a nut real quick,” one underage victim told Badolato of her high-end clientele). Some of the victims were girls. Some were boys. Some were LGBTQ kids who’d been kicked out of their homes. Some were straight cis kids from the suburbs. “I tell people that I could probably name two or three [kids] in the school district they live in that have been trafficked,” Roediger says. “And they just can’t comprehend it.”

“If I can be perfectly honest, I truly don’t believe that the FBI realizes what they put their agents through doing that kind of work.”

There were kids who were about to age out of foster care (a particularly at-risk group, according to those who work in the field), kids who’d run away, kids who were being sold to pay their family’s rent, or to buy their family member’s drugs. There were kids who’d sit in the hotel room, backpack at their feet, dutifully working on their math homework while agents and social workers tried to figure out what to do with them. Was their home life safe enough that they could be returned to it? Would a residential program take them? Of all the imperfect options, which would make them least likely to be trafficked again?

The one common denominator was this: They all had a vulnerability that could be preyed upon. They all lacked a safety net — societal, familial, emotional, or some combination thereof — that might have broken their fall. Mostly, their stories weren’t dramatic; they were typical American tales of neglect, of abuse doled out casually, of a steady stream of letdowns by people and institutions who should have propped them up. Badolato found that she had a knack for getting them to talk about this, for getting them to open up to her. She didn’t look like an FBI agent — at least not what they’d imagined. She spoke softly, but with authority and a slight vocal fry. And she thinks that, at some level, they could probably sense that she’d once been a vulnerable kid too, that with only a few slightly different twists of fate, she could have become a trafficking victim herself — and that she knew it. “My trauma looks different than theirs, but it’s trauma nonetheless,” she says.

“And I think victims can feel that.”

AS THE TASK force learned more about the psychology of victims, they also learned more about the ways in which their vulnerability was being manipulated, and how those ways were evolving. It was known in law-enforcement circles that once a skilled trafficker set his or her sights on a vulnerable young person, they could be groomed in a matter of days: one day for an introduction, a day or two to make the victim feel special and cared for, and then the day when a “friend” comes over and he needs to be “cared for” as well. Sometimes violence was involved at that point; sometimes drug use was involved throughout. But emotional manipulation was the key element, which is why it was so easy for grooming to move online, for groomers to take advantage of the false senses of connection fostered on social media.

Of the victims who are not being trafficked by family members, the majority are being groomed in this way. “I would say that probably 75 percent of the initial grooming is happening online now,” says Cindy Malott, the director of U.S. Safe Programs at Crisis Aid International. “Recruiters used to have to work really, really hard to get access to kids, but now they’re practically sitting in a child’s bedroom. And kids put everything out there — what’s going on in their life, who they’re angry about, parents are going through a divorce, their insecurities about their body, about themselves, what they do, how they spend their time — so it’s like a gift to these predators.”

The ways to manipulate are legion: Get a kid to send a compromising photo, and she’ll do almost anything to keep you from sending it out to all her Facebook friends; find out a gay kid is still closeted, and the threat of outing him gives you incredible power. And predators aren’t just on Instagram and Snapchat; they lurk in the chat functions of Roblox, Minecraft, Grand Theft Auto. “They’re everywhere,” says Malott. “People think, ‘Oh, I just got to keep my kids away from those porn sites, those horrible places.’ Well, no, predators are gonna go where the kids are.” And once there, they’re going to zero in on the kids who are most vulnerable.

That’s what got to Badolato. In her online undercover work, she’d plumbed the psychology of pedophiles, but now she wasn’t just dealing with suspects; she was spending time with victims and seeing the same vulnerabilities in them that the traffickers had seen: the instability or poverty, the addiction or mental health issues or abuse that had been normalized in their lives long before the traffickers entered them. Sometimes Badolato couldn’t help but feel that all the conspiracies and misconceptions weren’t just a distraction from the truth of trafficking but rather some sick attempt to let society off the hook for trying to solve the much more intractable problems at trafficking’s root.

“People would rather stick their head in the sand than address the real problem, because then you have to face and talk about the societal issues,” she says. “With a movie like Sound of Freedom, it’s like, ‘Oh, this is in a jungle in South America. This isn’t actually in [my neighborhood].’ You know? It’s easier for people to ignore the problem than deal with the issues on a societal level.”

BY THE TIME Badolato was sitting in that Chevy with Sierra, on that blighted Ohio block, she knew that the rate of revictimization for children who are trafficked was as high as 95 percent, according to FBI reports. She knew that 90 percent of sex-trafficking victims have a history of child sexual abuse, that more than 75 percent had lived in foster or adoptive care. She knew that she could arrest one perpetrator, and another would pop up in his place, that she could send one pimp to prison and the same victims would show up to stings some short time later, run by a different crew. She knew that testifying was a way for Sierra to psychologically push back against what had happened to her, and she was right: After the young woman took the stand on Jan. 10, 2017, Parks was found guilty and sentenced to 25 years; while testifying, Sierra had seemed to transform, to channel and embody a sort of empowerment. But Badolato also knew that once her testimony was over, Sierra would go back to that blighted block. She wondered how long that empowerment would last.

She also wondered about her own trajectory, her own ability to continue doing this work. The youngest trafficking victim she’d ever recovered from a sting op — an 11-year-old who’d been recruited through Facebook — had been returned to her family in a house that had no heat (Badolato had used an FBI slush fund to get it turned back on). One did not become immune to the human misery of such things. They compounded, became harder and harder to compartmentalize. “It’s just a combination of all of those years — and it’s all awful,” she says. “But there are particular moments that, for one reason or another, you can’t get out of your head. I just don’t think it’s in human nature to be exposed to that for so long and it not start changing who you are.”

One night, at a restaurant near where Badolato lives, I ask her whether she thinks children are being sex-trafficked right then, in that very moment, in just the mile or two radius around us. She’s quiet for a long time, her gaze fixed downward at her glass of wine. By the time she looks up, her whole body is trembling. “It’s happening right now,” she says quietly. “Right now some little girl is being dropped off in the parking lot of a motel. There are three or four girls holed up in a hotel next to a McDonald’s. It’s not only when we think about it. It is happening all the time. And if I’m just sitting here, present, having dinner, not thinking about it, that means I’m ignoring a problem that I know is real.” Tears stream down her face.

“Many images have never left my mind,” she says. “It’s really hard to have worked your entire life in law enforcement with a lot of child crime victims and be at the end of your career looking at the situation where you realize you can only do so much to make a difference.” Badolato wipes back the tears with the palm of her hand and shudders her head, as if she can shake the thoughts away. “Damn,” she says. “Fuck. I shouldn’t be the one crying. I’m not the victim of this.” The veteran agent steels herself and repeats, “I am not the victim.”

THE HOUSE WHERE Korina Ellison says she was first sex-trafficked no longer exists. It once stood on an unassuming lot in a residential suburb of Portland, Oregon, that stumbles down to the banks of the Willamette River. Now, Ellison can’t quite bring the house’s features to mind. She was so young back then, maybe four or five. There is so much she’s repressed, or only pieced together after the fact. As a child, she wouldn’t have known what she now believes to be true: that her grandmother scored her drugs by offering up her youngest daughter, Ellison’s mom. Or that, once her mom was hooked on the meth cooked by the man who’d lived in that house, she’d known just what to do to get more. But Ellison does remember being inside the house, unclothed. She does remember how the man would touch her.

Her life unspooled from there. Her father died of a heroin overdose when she was six. Her mom lost custody for good. She bounced around foster care, then various residential institutions, then whatever shelter she could find. In the story she tells of how she was sex-trafficked again in her teenage years, there’s no moment of drama, no kidnapping, no clear coercion. There was just a random, rainy afternoon when she had no place to go and was alone in the street and a car pulled up. The man inside took her home with him, fed her, introduced her to his girlfriend. They took her shopping. They let her stay. When men showed up at the home to have sex with the woman, Ellison was invited to watch, but she wasn’t expected to participate — not at first, anyway. According to a statement Ellison later made to law enforcement, she just “realized that people aren’t going to take care of [me] for free.” Soon, the woman was posting Ellison’s services on Backpage — $150 for half an hour, $200 for a full one — and the trio were traveling the Midwest. For a long time, it didn’t even occur to Ellison, then 16, to leave. “Where would I have gone?” she asks. “I’d been missing for over a year. Nobody was looking for me.” When the man told her to call him “Daddy,” she complied.

That was more than a decade ago, near the beginning of Badolato’s tenure as head of the Child Exploitation Task Force. But by 2021, leaving it had seemed a necessary form of self-preservation. One of her last cases had gone well legally: The perp, a retired police officer from California who had produced child sex-abuse materials of three sisters in Manila, had pleaded guilty to such charges when he learned that Badolato had brought the girls to the states to testify against him. But the experience had been emotionally devastating for Badolato, who had wanted the sisters, then 16, 13, and 11, to have memories of the U.S that consisted of more than reliving their trauma in a courtroom. She took them shopping and to the zoo, invited them to her home to have dinner with her own family, saw them slowly start to open up and laugh and behave like the children they were. Then she’d had to put them on a flight back to Manila, back to the aunt who had allowed the man to abuse them and who Badolato had been unable to extradite. Fortunately, she says, their estranged father ended up intervening and taking custody of the girls, but that feeling of futility in the fight lingered.

“I stayed for a little bit longer after that trial, but it really was when I should have been able to look myself in the mirror and say, ‘Nikki, you’re done,’ ” Badolato had told me in St. Louis. “It became clear that I had been doing it too long.” She’d spend the last couple of years working national security, a position without the immediacy of child-exploitation work, but also without the heartache. “If I can be perfectly honest, I truly don’t believe that the FBI realizes what they put their agents through doing that kind of work. I just don’t,” she says.

And yet, here Badolato was in Portland, leading Ellison, now 30, up to her hotel room, telling her about all the announcements she’d heard in the Atlanta airport instructing travelers to be on the lookout for sex trafficking. “It’s like white noise in the background,” she says as Ellison settles into the sofa. “It’s a false sense of doing something to help.”

“Here’s the thing: Nobody knows what to look for,” Ellison agrees.

“And what about the victims who are in that airport, who are walking around and listening?” Badolato asks.

“I wouldn’t have even heard that announcement,” Ellison replies. “Because I didn’t feel like a victim. It goes a lot, lot, lot deeper than anybody realizes.”

That’s what she and Badolato both understand. That’s why they started talking eight months ago. Of all the teenage victims Badolato’s task force recovered, Ellison is one of the few who she knows has permanently extricated herself from being prostituted, though it took years for her to get to that point, years for her to see that what happened to her was not her fault but rather a fault in the system, a fault in many systems over the course of generations. Neither she nor Badolato can fix that.

Yet they can’t help feeling like there’s something they can fix — or at least try to. Under the umbrella of an organization she’s founded called Innocent Warriors, Badolato created a program for schools, instructing educators on the signs that might indicate a student is being trafficked and teaching kids how to avoid getting groomed online, which, she believes, is not about stranger danger but rather an awareness of subtle manipulation. Ellison has been working with trafficked youth through nonprofits like Children of the Night, the residential program where Badolato’s team sent her when she was 17. Together, they’ve been talking about having Ellison help train undercovers who are learning to do trafficking sting ops. They’ve also discussed starting a mentorship program in which children who are still being sex-trafficked are paired with young adults like Ellison who once were, providing a way for victims to begin to envision a different future for themselves and a path toward it even while being prostituted. Such a program may be retroactive rather than proactive, but it would capitalize on Badolato’s and Ellison’s experience and expertise — and it could help in the healing of mentors and mentees alike.

Badolato had traveled to Portland for the two to talk face-to-face about how the program might work. “You have to understand how they’ve been traumatized because sometimes, to a child, relating doesn’t sound like you’re relating. It sounds like you’re pointing out all the bad things in them,” says Ellison from the driver’s seat of her Nissan Pathfinder as she drives Badolato around to show her certain landmarks of her past after she’d left Children of the Night: the bridge she’d slept under for over a year after a boyfriend had gotten her hooked on heroin, the blocks downtown where she’d bounced between a children’s shelter and the needle exchange. It had taken a prison sentence for her to finally break her addiction and commit to a different kind of life, though that evolution had had less to do with not having access to drugs than with seeing her own mother cycle in and out of the same facility — like looking into her own future and witnessing how bleak it would be. Maybe, she thought, she could provide the inverse of that for kids in Innocent Warriors. Maybe she could reverse engineer her own escape.

“I just want to make it very clear that if you were a victim, you are a victim, and just to not have any shame in that,” she tells Badolato as they drive through Portland’s misty streets.

“What I anticipate and hope is that then we get survivors that are like, ‘They get it,’ ” Badolato replies. “And that it opens up doors to help, for people to recognize that there are people who get what’s really going on.”

“It took a really long time for me,” Ellison says of coming to terms with her own victimhood.

“It’s like reworking your thought process about some of those things,” Badolato agrees. “And that’s hard, and it happens slowly over time, and it looks different for everybody.”

Ellison grips the wheel tightly. “The truth does matter. It does. The truth is the fucking truth. And it’s been empowering to be able to talk about it because that’s another way that I’ve realized, like, ‘Man, I was a victim,’ is re-going over all of this. Because when it happens so many times, you do blame yourself. It’s a lot easier to just continue to live in a lie than believe that you were lied to.”

Still, Ellison and Badolato agree that the impressionability that makes children vulnerable is also what makes them open to guidance and mentorship if a relationship of trust can be established. “What do you think a parent does? They groom you. I’d been waiting to be guided and groomed,” Ellison says.

It’s been instructive to see that potential from another perspective, as a mother doing the guiding. As the afternoon wears on, Ellison stops to pick up her then-15-month-old son, who was being watched by a social-worker friend. She buckles the little boy into his car seat, ruffles his hair, and passes him a bottle. He grins widely and begins removing his shoes and socks, throwing them gleefully onto the floor of the car and then kicking his tiny feet in time with the music as Ellison glances back at him and smiles. “Kids are so perfect,” she says.

The last stop of the day is the large plot of land where the drug dealer’s house once stood. Now, it’s been turned into a playground, with brightly-colored jungle gyms, a covered picnic area, and a large lawn, where a couple leisurely walks their dog. Ellison and Badolato climb down from the car and stand at the park’s edge, as Ellison’s son toddles around the grass, oblivious to what had transpired in that very spot. There is some form of poetic justice in the land being earmarked for children’s enjoyment, but neither woman voices it. Mostly, they’re quiet. Night is falling, the air growing cooler, and the gray sky fading into dusk.

“You would never think a park could hide what it used to be,” Ellison says at last. And yet it did. Driving off with Badolato at her side and her son babbling happily in the back seat, Ellison glances in the rear-view mirror, but only for a moment. Badolato keeps her eyes fixed only on the road ahead.

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