#It's been a little over a month now and I miss him so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thedensworld · 2 days ago

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Talk the Stalker | C.Sc

Pairing: celebritySeungcheol! x celebrityReader!

Genre: fluff

Summary: Seungcheol is obsessed with you, he loves you and he would do anything to protect you.

Note: i'm obsessed, addicted, and drowned in his pretty smile! Happiness suit him sfm!

Seungcheol's hand was warm as it held yours tightly while the two of you entered the restaurant. He had already noticed two or three cameras tailing him outside, snapping pictures of the two of you together. He paid them no mind—your relationship was public anyway, and he was too used to the attention to care. Right now, all that mattered to him was making sure you were okay.

This restaurant was your favorite, a haven you always turned to when your appetite disappeared—which had happened again today. He had picked you up from the shooting set after a long day. You had texted him earlier, letting him know you’d be working from afternoon until late evening. Coincidentally, his own schedule had wrapped up at the same time, so he decided to spend the night with you.

"Can we grab something first? I think I’m gonna pass out," you muttered the moment you slid into his car.

Seungcheol sighed deeply, already anticipating this. You hadn’t eaten, had you? His mind pieced together the puzzle: you probably woke up barely two hours before your schedule, rushed to get ready, spent an hour commuting, and then worked the entire day without a single meal. The thought of it frustrated him—he had been through similar habits in the past, too busy to eat. But seeing you, the love of his life, neglecting yourself like this made his chest ache. Without a word, he drove the two of you straight to your go-to spot.

While you disappeared to the restroom, Seungcheol took the liberty of ordering your usual meal. When you returned, he waved you over, pulling the chair beside him. As you sat down, his hand instinctively reached for your back, rubbing soothing circles to ease the tension he imagined must be building there.

"How’s your back? Still hurt?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with concern.

You had injured yourself three months ago during a stunt for an action film—a brutal fall onto your back that had left you with a dislocated shoulder and lingering pain. While everything had seemed fine recently, yesterday’s severe backache brought the worries flooding back for both of you.

"Stop making me worry, could you?" Seungcheol sighed when you gave him a soft chuckle, clearly trying to downplay the issue. "Sometimes I wonder how your fragile body even handles all those stunts," he added, shaking his head.

“Fragile?” you scoffed, lightly smacking his arm. “I work out, thank you very much.”

He lifted your arm with a smirk, inspecting it playfully. “This slender little arm trying to punch a stuntman? I’m not worried about them; I’m worried about you.”

“Shut up,” you muttered with a grin, making Seungcheol laugh.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. His tone softened as he said, “That’s why you need to stop getting hurt, okay? I know how much you love your job, but if you want to do it for a long time, you have to take care of yourself.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his words. It was something you always told him whenever he pushed himself too hard. “Stealing my lines now?” you teased, and he chuckled warmly.

After dinner, you suggested taking a walk. Seungcheol hesitated, asking if you were too tired, but you insisted. He figured you must’ve missed him more than you were letting on, and the thought filled him with a fluttery warmth he couldn’t quite explain.

As the two of you strolled down the quiet street, the chill of the night air began to creep in. Seungcheol noticed you shivering and immediately shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased with a playful smile, and he let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” Seungcheol said shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up at him, your lips curling into a smile as you clung to his arm. “Anything?” you challenged with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Would you kill someone for me?”

Seungcheol’s brows furrowed, though his lips twitched with amusement. “Not to that scale. Know your place!” he shot back, earning a soft laugh from you.

"Are you happy with me?" Seungcheol’s voice broke the comfortable silence as he reached for your hand, holding it firmly before swinging it lightly, a playful gesture to get your attention. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you couldn’t help but smile at the warmth radiating from him.

You nodded eagerly, the sincerity in your expression clear. "I think you’re one of the very few people who can make me this happy," you admitted, your words filled with genuine affection.

His brows furrowed almost immediately, and he stopped walking, a playful pout forming on his lips. "I’m not the only one?" he asked, feigning offense.

You chuckled, amused by his theatrics. "Know your place," you teased, leaning closer as a mischievous grin spread across your face.

His pout melted into a radiant smile, his dimple making a brief appearance. "I was kidding earlier, babe," he said softly, though his playful tone lingered as he began walking backward to face you, still holding your hand securely in his.

Seungcheol's gaze lingered on you, his eyes warm and filled with adoration. After a moment, he raised a brow and asked, “Can I stay the night?” The flirty tilt of his tone made you raise yours in mock disbelief.

“Isn’t this the first time you’re actually asking?” you questioned, suppressing a laugh as you tilted your head.

He nodded, chuckling at your amused expression. “I know, I know. I must be the worst boyfriend, huh? I never ask for consent, I won’t kill anyone for my girlfriend, and to top it all off, I make fun of her slender arms.”

You gasped in mock outrage and raised your hand to playfully slap his arm, but he anticipated it and bolted ahead, laughter echoing through the quiet park near the restaurant. The chase was on, and you found yourself running after him, your laughter mingling with his in the cool night air.

That night, before heading home, the park became your private playground, filled with stolen moments of joy and carefree laughter. You hoped, for both your sakes, that no paparazzi managed to capture the scene.

You entered your apartment, Seungcheol trailing behind you. Though it wasn’t as luxurious or spacious as Seungcheol’s place, it carried a charm he adored—you. Every corner of your home was filled with your scent, your presence, and your personality. To him, it wasn’t just a place—it was a sanctuary, his sanctuary.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered, kicking off your shoes. Seungcheol smiled, watching as you settled in, your energy shifting into the comfort of your space.

As usual, Jibby, your orange tabby cat, sauntered over to greet you, his tail flicking lazily behind him. The cat had been your loyal companion ever since you rescued him on a shooting set two years ago. Predictably, Jibby ignored Seungcheol entirely, keeping his amber eyes locked on you with unwavering devotion.

“Still no love for me, huh?” Seungcheol joked, crouching to scratch Jibby behind the ears, only to receive a flick of the tail in return. “This cat’s got some serious attitude.”

You chuckled, picking up Jibby and holding him close. “He’s selective. He knows who pays the rent around here.”

As you placed Jibby back on the floor, you noticed strands of his fur scattered everywhere. “Oh, Jibby! Your fur’s everywhere!” you exclaimed, brushing some off your pants.

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, crouching to inspect the floor. “It’s not even summer, and he’s already shedding like crazy. You think he’s stressed?”

Your face filled with concern as you knelt beside Jibby, running your hands gently over his fur. “Oh no, Jibby. What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

Before you could continue, Jibby let out a loud, startling meow, making both you and Seungcheol jump. The sound was completely out of character—Jibby was always a calm and quiet cat.

“That’s...new,” Seungcheol said, frowning. “I’ve never heard him meow like that before.”

Your concern deepened, and as if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Opening it, you found your building’s security guard standing there. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, his tone apologetic. “We got a report from your neighbor. They said your cat’s been meowing loudly for hours. Is everything okay?”

You turned back to Jibby, the worry evident in your eyes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, stroking his fur as he let out another sharp meow. “I think something’s wrong.”

That night, sleep was the last thing on your mind. You stayed up with Jibby, trying to comfort him as his restless meows continued. Seungcheol, sensing how stressed you were, insisted on staying over. When he saw how exhausted you looked around 3 a.m., he gently took over, cradling Jibby in his arms while you rested on the couch.

By dawn, it was clear Jibby needed professional care. “I’ll take him to the vet,” Seungcheol offered, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve got an early schedule, and I can handle this.”

You hesitated, guilt flickering in your eyes. “Are you sure? You’ve already—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, giving you a reassuring smile. “Jibby’s family. And family takes care of each other.”

As you watched him gently place Jibby into the carrier, whispering soothing words to the stressed cat, you felt a swell of gratitude and love for the man who had seamlessly woven himself into your life—and Jibby’s too.

The next day, Seungcheol received a call from the vet. The feline, Jibby, was missing home and showing signs of increased stress. Hearing this, Seungcheol couldn’t help but worry. You were out of town for a shooting schedule and wouldn’t be back until the next day, so Seungcheol decided to take matters into his own hands. He asked his manager to help him pick up Jibby from the vet, determined to make the cat feel better.

Driving to your apartment with Jibby in the passenger seat was no small task. The cat meowed incessantly, his cries echoing through the car. Seungcheol tried speaking to him in the same soft, soothing tone he had heard you use countless times. “Hey, buddy, we’re going home. You’ll feel better soon, I promise,” he said, glancing over at Jibby. But his attempts were futile; the cat’s distress didn’t subside, and Seungcheol found himself understanding your concern on a much deeper level.

Once they arrived, Seungcheol texted you: “Jibby’s home safe now. Don’t worry, I’ve got him.”

He set down Jibby’s carrier, opened it, and placed some food in the bowl. He watched as the cat cautiously stepped out, sniffing around before beginning to eat. Gradually, Jibby seemed to relax.

Seungcheol didn’t turn on the lights, thinking it might overwhelm Jibby. Instead, he opened the curtains slightly, letting the moonlight bathe the room in a soft glow. Leaning back on the couch, he kept an eye on the cat, who finally settled beside him.

“You finally opened up to me, huh, Jibby?” Seungcheol murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. It felt like a small victory to earn even a fraction of the cat’s trust.

Suddenly, the sound of the passcode being entered broke the serene moment. Seungcheol sat up, his body tensing. You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow. Who could it be?

The door creaked open, and a shadowy figure in a hoodie stepped inside. Jibby’s demeanor shifted instantly; he bolted toward the figure, his fur standing on end as he hissed and meowed angrily.

Seungcheol’s heart pounded as he rose from the couch, flipping on the lights. “Who are you?” he barked, his voice filled with authority. The intruder froze for a second before bolting for the door.

Not wasting a moment, Seungcheol dashed after him. The man was just reaching the emergency exit when Seungcheol grabbed him by the hoodie and shoved him against the wall with a force that came from pure adrenaline.

“Who are you?!” Seungcheol growled, his voice dangerously low as he pressed the man harder against the wall, preventing any chance of escape. “Why are you here? Why do you know my girlfriend’s passcode?”

The intruder struggled, but Seungcheol’s grip was unyielding. The hours he’d spent learning jiu-jitsu were finally paying off. His sharp eyes scanned the area until he spotted a CCTV camera. Without hesitation, he dragged the man into its view, ensuring the footage would capture everything.

Jibby followed, his meows loud and furious as if scolding the man himself. The cat even swiped at the intruder’s legs, his claws adding to the chaos.

Moments later, two security guards arrived, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. “What’s going on here?” one of them asked.

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened as he explained, his voice steady but laced with anger. “This guy broke into my girlfriend’s apartment. He knew her passcode. I caught him before he could get away.”

The guards immediately restrained the man, apologizing profusely to Seungcheol. “We’ll handle this. Thank you for acting quickly, sir,” one of them said as they led the intruder away.

Seungcheol stood tall in front of the man sitting tied to the chair in the dimly lit security room. The sight of him was sickening. Moments earlier, Seungcheol had watched the CCTV footage of this guy sneaking into your apartment multiple times in recent days. A wave of anger surged through him as he pieced things together. Was this the reason Jibby had been so stressed lately?

Seungcheol’s hand instinctively went to rub Jibby, who sat calmly in his arms, a stark contrast to the turmoil bubbling inside him. The cat, ever so loyal, seemed to sense his unease.

The man muttered something under his breath, barely audible. “I’m just a fan…”

Seungcheol’s blood boiled at those words. He stepped closer, his voice sharp and unwavering. “No fan should do this. You’re not a fan—you’re a criminal!” He clenched his fists, the urge to lash out barely held in check.

The security guards standing nearby intervened, stepping between Seungcheol and the intruder. “Sir, please, the cops are on their way. We need your cooperation,” one of them said firmly, trying to de-escalate the situation.

But Seungcheol wasn’t ready to let it go. He glared at the man, his voice dripping with contempt. “What did you do? Did you plant a camera or something? Huh?” He leaned in, his intense gaze locking on the man, pressing him for answers.

The intruder hesitated, his eyes darting nervously before he gave a reluctant nod. That was all it took. Rage exploded in Seungcheol as he handed Jibby to a nearby guard before grabbing the man by his collar.

“You sick—” Seungcheol growled, but before he could finish or act on his anger, the security team pulled him back, their firm grip reminding him to maintain control.

“Mr. Choi, we’ve got this. Let us handle it,” one of the guards reassured him.

Seungcheol’s chest heaved as he let go, glaring daggers at the man who cowered in the chair.

Seungcheol stormed out of the security room, his frustration bubbling over as he marched toward the head of security standing nearby.

“How did this even happen?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tense atmosphere. “Your job is to protect her and everyone in this building. Do you even realize how badly you’ve failed?”

The head of security looked uneasy but tried to maintain composure. “Sir, we’re investigating the breach—”

“Investigating?” Seungcheol scoffed, his voice rising. “This isn’t some minor mistake! That man entered her home multiple times, and you didn’t notice? What if she had been home alone? Can you guarantee what that bastard could’ve done to her?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, the thought of you in danger overwhelming him.

“Mr. Choi, I assure you—”

“No!” Seungcheol cut him off, stepping closer. “You can’t assure me of anything. You couldn’t even keep a stranger out of her home! She trusted this place to be safe, and you let her down.”

The head of security hesitated, clearly struggling to respond, as Seungcheol continued. “Do you know how terrified she’ll be when she finds out? Do you know how hard she works, how much she sacrifices, only to come home to this?”

Taking a deep breath, he added, “I don’t care what it takes—double the patrols, update your system, install better cameras, do something. Because if this happens again, I swear, there’ll be hell to pay.”

The head of security nodded quickly. “Understood, Mr. Choi. We’ll prioritize this immediately. I’ll personally oversee the updates and report back.”

Turning on his heel, Seungcheol made his way back to your apartment with Jibby settled on his arms. As he entered, he set Jibby down gently and sighed, his heart still racing. His protective instincts were on overdrive, and all he wanted was to make sure you were safe.

He sent you another text:

“Call me when you can.”

Seungcheol leaned back on the couch, his gaze shifting to Jibby, who was curled up on the carpet, seemingly calm after the ordeal. The sight of the cat, finally at ease, should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t.

The thought of leaving you and Jibby alone in this apartment, even for a second, made his stomach twist. He sat forward, rubbing his temples as his mind raced. “I can’t just leave you here,” he muttered, as if Jibby could understand.

Decision made, Seungcheol stood and began gathering a few of Jibby’s essentials. He packed the cat’s food, a couple of toys, and the small bed you’d bought for him. Jibby tilted his head curiously, his tail flicking as he watched Seungcheol move around.

“You’re coming with me, buddy,” Seungcheol said softly, crouching down to scratch behind Jibby’s ears. “At least until we know this place is safe again. No arguments, okay?”

Jibby responded with a low purr, and Seungcheol took it as agreement.

"Why is he in your place?" you asked, your laughter spilling through the phone as you watched Jibby sprawled comfortably beside Seungcheol on his couch. His home looked warm and inviting in the dim lighting, and even through the screen, you could see how relaxed Jibby seemed.

Seungcheol smiled at your reaction, his voice softening. "Jibby feels at home here. I think he loves my place. Isn’t that right, Jibby? You want to live here with me?"

As if on cue, Jibby let out a soft meow and snuggled closer into Seungcheol’s arm, his orange fur brushing against Seungcheol’s sweater. You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I left him with you for one day, and now you two are best friends? This is betrayal," you teased, though your heart warmed at the sight of them together.

Seungcheol laughed, patting Jibby gently on his back. "Oh, it’s not betrayal. He actually loves me—he just doesn’t want to make you jealous."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, sure. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me he’s moving in with you."

Seungcheol tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Actually, I was thinking you both could. I mean, look at him. He’s practically claimed my couch already."

Your laugh turned into a soft sigh. "Babe, you’re joking, right?"

"Am I?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone playful but his expression growing serious. "Think about it. Jibby clearly loves it here. My place is bigger and you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving him when you’re out for work. Plus..."—his voice softened—"I’d get to see you every day."

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the earnestness in his words. "Baby, are you actually suggesting I move in with you?"

"Why not?" He shrugged, but the hopeful look in his eyes betrayed how much he meant it. "It makes sense. Jibby’s happy here, and I’d feel better knowing you’re both safe. You can have your own space, do things your way. No pressure, but... I’d really like it if you were here."

Your gaze shifted to Jibby, who was now fully sprawled out on Seungcheol’s lap, purring softly. The sight was oddly comforting, and you couldn’t deny how much you missed Seungcheol already, even though you’d only been apart for a day.

"I don’t know," you said hesitantly, though your voice wavered with the idea already taking root in your mind. "It’s a big step."

Seungcheol leaned closer to the camera, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Big steps aren’t so scary when you’re not taking them alone, you know. Just think about it, okay?"

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you nodded, unable to suppress the smile that crept onto your face. "I’ll think about it."

Seungcheol grinned, the kind of grin that made your chest feel warm. "Good. Jibby and I will be waiting."

The sight of him and Jibby, so at ease together, made you wonder if moving in wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

End.

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hotshotsxyz · 1 day ago

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living lies and compromise

(8b spec) (buddie) (879 words) spoilers for 8x08! set a few days after eddie returns from texas and i still managed to make it angsty :) i bet you'll never guess what band i stole the title from

The knock on Buck’s door isn’t entirely unexpected. He doesn’t know what to do with it, though, doesn’t know how to exist in this strange liminal space where Eddie’s back but everything is still different.

A few months ago, Eddie would’ve used his key and walked straight in. A few months ago, Buck would’ve welcomed him with open arms. As it stands, he hesitates. Just for a moment, but—

It’s been a long time since Buck was hesitant with Eddie. He hates it.

He opens the door, and the smile he greets Eddie with feels brittle and fake.

“Hey, man,” Buck says, trying trying trying to make it come out right. He hears it, though—it doesn’t sound the same.

“Hey,” Eddie replies. He hoists a six pack in the air, and if Buck squints he can almost pretend this is exactly what it used to be. That they’re what they used to be.

“Come—come in,” Buck invites. He can’t remember the last time either of them waited for permission like this.

Eddie swallows visibly and steps into the loft for the first time since—god, he’s not actually sure. Right after Halloween, maybe?

“Thanks,” Eddie says. He drops the beer on the counter but makes no move to grab one.

Silence stretches between them. It’s not uncomfortable, necessarily, but it’s also not the kind that falls when everything that needs to be said is out in the open and everything left can wait.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Eddie says finally, achingly quiet.

Buck shakes his head. “I am, of course I’m happy to see you,” he says.

“Please don’t do that.” Eddie’s eyes are wide and sincere, and if Buck’s not careful—

“Eddie,” he says, pleading, “I am, you have no idea.”

“Then why…” He gestures vaguely at the space between them. Why the distance? Why the reticence? Why aren’t they falling together the way they always have?

Buck bites his lip and steps into Eddie’s space to grab a beer for himself. He retreats, but he doesn’t go far.

He pops the cap off and sighs. “You left,” he says simply.

Eddie stumbles back against the counter. “But I came back,” he says. “And I thought you understood.”

Buck offers him a sad little smile. “I did. I do. But—coming back wasn’t the plan.”

“Did you… not want me to?” Eddie asks, small and a tiny bit incredulous.

“No,” Buck says, watching as Eddie’s disbelief turns to hurt. “I didn’t want you to come back. I needed you to.”

A wounded noise escapes Eddie’s lips. “I did,” he says.

“What about next time?” Buck asks. He wishes he didn’t sound so raw and ragged, but it hardly matters when Eddie’s the one listening.

“What?” He breathes, punched out like a cough.

Buck looks over Eddie’s shoulder, out the window and into the vague glow of night in Los Angeles. He takes a swig of his beer.

“I need you, Eddie, I still—the whole time you were gone it felt like—like I was missing a limb. And I can’t—I can’t keep needing you like this, not if I don’t get to keep you,” Buck admits. “So I just… I have to figure out how to stop. But I can’t do that when you’re here.”

“Don’t,” Eddie says desperately. “Please don’t. I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You have me.”

“I’m not sure I know how to survive believing that again,” Buck replies.

Eddie takes a step forward, close enough now that Buck can feel his breath ghosting across his skin.

“Look at me?” he asks.

Buck’s never been able to deny him much of anything.

“I kept looking for you. I’d see something funny and I’d turn, because I wanted to see your reaction. The front door would open, and I kept thinking you were going to be the one to walk through it. Hell, every time I went to the grocery store I wanted to call you to make sure everything we needed was on the list.”

“Eddie,” Buck breathes.

His hand drifts toward Buck’s shoulder, just like it always seems to, but this time it doesn’t stop. Eddie reaches until his fingers are resting against Buck’s neck and his thumb is slowly sweeping across his jaw.

“You need me?” he asks.

Buck nods.

“Good,” Eddie says in a rush of air. “Because I need you too, okay? So please don’t stop, please don’t pull away. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to come with me.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to stay.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump. He takes the last step forward and pulls Buck into a tight hug.

There’s this thing Buck’s been trying not to look at. It’s been growing in size, taking up more and more of his field of vision since the moment Eddie left for Texas. It’s been fuzzy and hard to discern, difficult to ignore but easy to avoid putting a name to. As he melts into Eddie’s arms, though, everything comes into sharp relief.

It’s need. It’s want. It’s love.

And the thing is, Buck knows how this goes. But what the hell? It’ll be a privilege, getting his heart broken by Eddie Diaz.

He clings a little tighter.

#you know when you have something important to do but you decide to write an angsty little spec fic instead? yeah #buddiefic #buddie fic #911fic #911 fic #911 #buddie #fic #abbie writes #911 spoilers

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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 days ago

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Is This a Tragedy?

You're an actor and you finally got your big role in a hit TV show. Unfortunately your character only made it to Season 2 before they killed you off. This is how I imagine the lads men react to watching that scene [Requested by: Anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

calm cool and collected on the outside; whole time he's really having an internal breakdown

grips your hand a little tighter in his as the scene progresses

“are you dying? is this a tragedy?”

is very aware that it’s just a show, but can’t stop his heart from pounding at the thought of losing you

rubs his eyes to keep himself from tearing up

stares at you after the episode ends “What?” “The thought of losing you has always terrified me; watching you perform that scene does not help” “it’s my job Zayne besides im right here”

finds himself staring at you more often just trying to commit every feature of yours to memory

never willingly watches that episode again

skips over that part every time or just turns the show off “You still can’t watch it?” “No”

praises you for the phenomenal performance although he claims it was a little too realistic

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

is great at slipping in and out of character so he was the one helping you with your acting skills

sits up straight when he realizes what's happening “is this the scene you've been keeping secret?”

falls out immediately in your lap

bawling his eyes out goes as far to curl up in your lap

would be so proud of not only you, but himself as well for helping you perfect your craft

“Do I get credit as the acting coach?” “Yes would you like a reward?” “You know I do”

Although he’s proud of you he can’t bring himself to watch the episode again also doesn't continue watching the show in general "they killed off my favorite character how can I continue watching it now?"

keeps pushing you to work on crying on command so if you need to cry for your next roll it’s even better

acted out the scene with you at home for fun once and had a mental breakdown

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

Fell asleep in the middle of the show and missed it

“just watch it when you get a chance” “no replay it”

immediately turns the show off in the middle of the scene

“im not watching this” “Xav…” “No”

drills you with questions about why you didn’t tell him you were dying in that episode

“I can’t watch that don’t make me watch it” "You're being a little dramatic don't you think?"

pouts, pouts, and pouts some more

won’t watch it no matter how much you beg

although he never finished watching the whole scene he holds your hand tighter now these days

asks for a warning next time so he can prepare himself …… to fast forward

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

watches quietly giving away nothing

“You even shed a few tears for your own scene?” teases you for crying at your own death scene “it looks different after the editing okay!”

won't admit it, but one time was enough

“it made you sad didn’t it?” “Well I don’t take pleasure in watching you die onscreen sweetie” “im alive though” “Let's keep it that way”

weasels his way out of watching the scene again

his voice slightly wavers whenever you bring it up

avoids eye contact when you tease him about it

held you tighter at night for at least a month

Bonus: the twins bawled their eyes out and tackled you to the ground with a bone crushing hug

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads zayne #lads sylus #lnds rafayel #lnds xavier #lnds zayne #lnds #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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seitmai · 2 days ago

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As always many thoughts...

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters." "Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch.

Of course he wouldn't 😅

"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something." "Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her. "They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

Hahah this whole conversation cracked me up 😂

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

Ok rude of Bradley, it was just a nice thought 🙄😒

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered." "Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

🥰🥰🥰

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner. "You're never fast! You like to linger!" "It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

Haha I can't with him

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

Of course he does 🤭

He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. "I could always nurse you later if you want." "I take it you're interested in my offer." "Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off."

🤭🤭🤭

"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.

Oh no, she is too hard on herself 🥺

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel."

Oh don't act like a saint Jake, we all know you wanna marry her sooner rather than later an if Cat had a buch of trauma and needs time because of that, they would have been married already 😅

Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."

Dad Jake 🥹🥰

Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Maybe maybe there is something else going on, hmm 🤭

"You look like a DILF."

He sure does 😌

"Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?" You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

Hahaha this is so Bradley 😅

"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight. "You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

He just loves to be with his girls 🥰

Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag.

🥰🥰🥰

To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.

He is living his best life 😅

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away?

Yes, he absolutely 100% is

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

Oh oh this feels like trouble 😬🫣

Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.

"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.

"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.

"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."

"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."

Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."

"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.

"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."

He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."

"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."

"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."

"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"

"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."

"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."

Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."

You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"

When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"

Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."

-------------------------------

You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.

"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.

"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.

"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"

"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.

He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.

Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?"

You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.

"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."

"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."

"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"

He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.

"You're never fast! You like to linger!"

"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered.

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

"I could always nurse you later if you want."

When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.

"I take it you're interested in my offer."

"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."

-----------------------------

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."

"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.

Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."

"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.

"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."

Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."

Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.

"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."

"Why?"

Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."

"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!"

"I mean..."

"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."

"I'll be forty soon."

"You're thirty-eight."

"That's almost forty."

"You look like a DILF."

He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.

"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"

"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."

Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.

"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."

"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"

You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.

"We're going to miss you."

He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."

You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.

----------------------------------

"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.

"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."

"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.

"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.

"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.

Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."

She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.

"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier.

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.

When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.

"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.

He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around.

Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

------------------------------

Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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onlyjjong · 3 days ago

Text

엔하이픈 --- EMAILS I NEVER MEANT TO SEND (PART 4)

　　 박성훈　 x　 fem!reader　x 　심재윤 　　┊　　a very late and long birthday gift for jennifer!! :> 　　┊　　 wc 2.7k

GENERE　┊ 　!oneshot, !nonidol , !fluff , !hints of angst , !high school, !childhood best friends to lovers , !best friend's brother , !love triangle , !hockey player sunghoon , !basketball player jake , !academic weapon reader

DISCLAIMER 　┊ 　depictions may be inaccurate , contains swear words, mentions of hospital and sickness, y/n is lee heeseung's sister , sunghoon calls y/n 'princess' , y/n calls jake 'jaeyun' , mentions of ocs and random characters here and there.

⟡ 📩 𑁋 TAGGING : @a-dream-bookmark , @/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @en-diaries

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected]

Dear Sunghoon,

I’m so nervous. On Tuesday, we’ll have the orchestra concert—and Miss Jeon, this morning, had suddenly told me that I have to replace Gaeul as concertmaster as she had an accident, broke her leg and was hospitalised, so she can’t play. I went to visit Gaeul just now, and she told me not to feel bad because I’m replacing her, but rather that I should feel proud because Miss Jeon knows that I’m capable enough to be a good concertmaster.

I don’t know… I don’t know if I’ll play well enough.

Sent 10:12 AM, 20th October.

You adjust your sitting posture, taking a deep breath of the fresh air around you. You had walked over to the park to clear your thoughts. The concert that you’re going to play in as concertmaster is coming in less than two days, and since it is the biggest concert you’ve ever played in, you’re more nervous than you ever were.

The weather is getting colder and colder with each passing day as winter approaches—so, even though your panicking thoughts prevented you from dressing as warmly you wished you did, you did at least wear one of Heeseung’s hoodies.

Though, you kind of regret not grabbing a thicker coat.

“Y/N!” you hear Jake’s voice, and as you look up, he’s already making his way towards you.

“Hi,” he smiles as he greets you. “What are you doing out here alone? Without a coat, too.”

You shove your hands into the pockets of the hoodie, grinning sheepishly. “It’s okay, it’s not too cold.”

“You okay?” he asks as he takes a seat next to you. Jake looks a tad bit reluctant to do so, but the tension present in his features relaxes a little as you give him a reassuring smile. “You look a little off right now—I-I mean, like, you don’t have that kind of confidence I’d always see in your eyes, and your smile is less enthusiastic too–”

You laugh, patting Jake’s arm. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Jake looks at you, his eyes filled with adoration. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s October, but lately, he’s constantly thinking about you. Recently, all he’s curious about is if you’ve eaten, if you’re taking good care of yourself, if you’re feeling okay.

Though, Jake knows that he’s just a friend. Jake knows, perfectly enough, that he’s just your deskmate, who you talk to only out of courtesy or when Sunghoon’s away.

October is the month of plot twists and surprises, and for Jake, it is wishing that you would see him as something more.

“I’m just wondering,” you begin, “if I’ll do good enough for the concert. I’m really, really nervous. I feel like my heart’s about to burst.”

“Oh?” Jake tilts his head slightly. “I think you’ll do okay.”

You lower your head. “I don’t think ‘okay’ is enough. I need this to be perfect—it’s my last orchestra concert, and-and I don’t think I’ve been practising as much as I wanted to, with all the studying–”

Jake grabs your hand and places it on his racing heart. Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub. “Here. Can you feel it?”

Too flustered—both from the sudden form of intimacy and the feeling of Jake’s heartbeats—to form any words, you simply nod.

“This is how I feel every single time a basketball match is about to start, or whenever I’m with someone I enjoy being around,” Jake continues, “it’s as if my heart is running faster than I do… but anyway, my point is that it’s okay to feel nervous, even when you’re doing something you’ve done so many times. You’ve worked hard for this concert, right?”

Jake looks at you, directly in the eye, and he gives you a gentle smile. It’s reassuring and comforting, conveying to you more than his words did.

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“Then, you don’t have to be afraid,” Jake says, “you’ll do well—just like you always do. If you don’t believe in that, it’s okay. Just know that I believe in you. A lot of people do.”

“Thank you, Jaeyun,” you sigh, after taking a few minutes to process Jake’s words—and the fact that you’re sitting there, with him, hand in hand.

It gives you tingles, exciting your nerves—Jake’s presence is gentle and warm, even if it’s a little sudden and abrupt. You enjoy being around him, and seeing another side to the well-known basketball talent—who’s always seen as someone who is carefree and laid-back. Honestly, you’re surprised to find out that the caring side of Jake was so much more than just smiling frequently at people. You’re surprised to find that Jake is a soul made out of compassion and kindness, and you’re ever so grateful to befriend someone like him.

“My pleasure,” he replies, squeezing your hand once. “I’m-I’m glad to be of help.”

You let go of his hand, standing up. “I’m going to go home and practise some more,” you tell Jake, who’s listening to you attentively. “I’ll see you later?”

“Alright—you don’t want me to walk you home?”

You shake your head, “it’s okay, I can manage.”

Jake nods, and waves you goodbye.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected]

Today’s the day of the concert. I’m very scared, but I’ll try to shrug it off. I woke up super early today, despite not being able to sleep that well last night. I’m all dressed, I did my hair and makeup for school; I even have the dress for the concert all ready. I already double checked my violin and memorised my music sheets (even though I’ll be having them on display for the concert later)... but I just still feel so anxious.

Help me, Sunghoon, I don’t know what to do.

Sent 6:32 AM, 22nd October.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jake greets you, knocking you out of your train of thought. You look to your side and see him hopping off his bicycle, pushing it slowly to match your walking pace. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you smile back, your cheeks itching due to the insincerity of the smile. “Where’s Danielle?”

“She’s still at home,” Jake answers, “we don’t live too far away, so she’s always out at around half past seven.”

You nod, aware of what he’s talking about. “I see. Why are you out so early, though? It’s only seven o’clock.”

Jake chuckles. “Well I figured I had to start out early to catch up with you. Turns out my timing is perfect today. I always catch you at school already.”

“Yeah,” you give him a courteous smile. “I noticed that too.”

“So, how’ve you been doing?” Jake asks, after around five minutes of silence.

“I’m fine,” you simply say. You’re lying, as who would be absolutely fine when they’ve got an extremely important and big event coming up in a few hours? Though, you didn’t feel the need to explain to Jake.

“Are you?” he counters, an eyebrow raised in the following. “I’m really amazed if you truly are, considering that you’ve been balancing studying for midterms and national entrance exams—which at the same time, you’ve also been practising violin.”

You choke out some laughter. “You’ve been observant of me, huh? Don’t think that’s a little creepy?”

Satisfaction and a little bit of guilt washes through you as you delightfully watch Jake’s eyes widen. “I-oh my,” he stumbles over his words the same way he’s tripping on air out of pure embarrassment. He quickly catches up with you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off as a creep, Y/N. I’m just quite… observant, that’s all.”

You chortle, feeling in the mood to tease the five feet nine inches dude walking beside you. “Are you?” you tease, mimicking his accent and the way he said it to you earlier, “then, Jaeyun, tell me what are the ten enzymes in the glycolysis process?”

Jake’s jaw drops wide open. “I-I mean–”

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach to prevent it from bursting. “Gotcha. Knew you weren’t thoroughly observant.”

“Hey! That isn’t fair, you’re asking me about biology,” Jake pouts. “Who on earth would pay attention in Mrs Nelly’s class?”

“Y/N would.”

You pause in your tracks, shock sending chills throughout your body as you feel Sunghoon’s voice to your right. You look in his direction, and he’s already walking in synchronisation of your tempo. Sunghoon slides his arm around your shoulder, giving you a grin. “Good morning, princess,” he says casually.

You clear your throat, your cheeks coloured pink at the close vicinity. “Good morning, Hoon.”

“Good morning, Sunghoon,” Jake says plainly.

“Oh, Jake?” Sunghoon tilts his head, giving the basketball jock a taunting yet innocent look—as if he’s just noticed his presence. “G’morning.”

You manage to catch a glimpse of Sunghoon’s smug face: his left eyebrow raised and his slight smile was evidently one-sided—directed straight to Jake.

“Have you eaten breakfast, princess?” Sunghoon asks, turning back to you.

You shake your head, flexing your shoulders to adjust the position of both your backpack and your violin case backpack. “I don’t have the appetite.”

Both Sunghoon and Jake form a perplexed look simultaneously. Sunghoon smacks the back of your head feebly, rolling his eyes. “Yah! What did I tell you? Eat your breakfast!” he scolds, “do you want me to die?”

“What does my breakfast have to do with you dying?” you retort.

“Well–” your best friend of 13 years pauses. “It doesn’t matter, but, c’mon,” he changes the topic, grabbing your hand. He glances at Jake, who’s biting his lips shut, before dragging you away. “Let’s get to school early so we can grab some breakfast.”

“Oomf–” you manage, stumbling. “See you later, Jaeyun!” you give Jake a wave with your free hand. Jake forms a smile upon seeing it, and in return, he waves.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

“ARE YOU NERVOUS?” SUNGHOON ASKS AS THE TWO OF YOU ARE PACKING YOUR BAGS AT THE END OF THE DAY’S LESSONS.

“Well, if you can’t tell,” you joke, zipping your school backpack shut. “Yes.”

Sunghoon runs a hand through his hair, smiling meekly. “I mean, you’re so good at the violin, so I didn’t think you’d be nervous.”

“Are you insane?” you gasp, smacking the 12th grader’s head. He blocks your hit effortlessly with his arm. “It’s my biggest concert as a freaking concertmaster!”

Sunghoon grins. “So? You’re going to ace it either way,” he grabs you, and before you could react, puts you in a headlock. “Won’t you?”

“Hey!” you scream, frantically pulling yourself away from him. Luckily for you, his grip is purposefully loose, so you quickly stand back on your feet. “What was that for?”

Sunghoon merely smiles—it’s gentler and comforting this time—as if he’s silently reassuring you that everything will go just fine.

“Y/N,” Jake calls, shattering the moment you’re having with Sunghoon. You quickly turn to face him, unaware of the grim change in Sunghoon’s expression. Jake hands you a canned ice lemon tea. “Here, um, I don’t know if you like lemon tea or not–”

“I do!” you animatedly beam. Jake sighs in gratitude.

“–thank God. anyway, um, I got these for you… my grandma said that tea’s good for calming your nerves down,” Jake continues.

“The sugar will make her energetic anyway,” you hear Sunghoon mutter grumpily behind you. You’re not sure if Jake hears it, because the smile on his face is unwavering.

“Thanks,” you say. Jake nods, and before he can say anything in reply, Sunghoon snatches the can of ice lemon tea in your hand.

“This looks good,” he muses, his smirk evident. You turn towards him, confused. What is he really trying to do? “I’m gonna have some, eh?”

You wear your backpack, shrugging. “You do you, Park Sunghoon. I’m going to go now, I’ve got to get ready for the concert.”

“Wait up!” Sunghoon exclaims, running after you.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

SUNGHOON RUNS INTO THE WAITING AREA, 15 MINUTES BEFORE THE CONCERT STARTS. He tries to spot you—or simply anyone he knows to help him find you. He sees plenty of people: a group of violinists, another group of people tuning their cellos and violas. His eyes scan through the crowd, and spots you in a corner, pacing here and there to calm yourself down.

“Y/N,” he says, a little softer than he intended. You turn around—the ankle-length black skirt creating a flower around you as it swirls, your hair gently hitting your face. Sunghoon clears his throat in an attempt to drive away the fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh, you look beautiful,” he blurts out, leaving you wide-eyed and as flustered as he is.

“T-thanks,” you manage.

Sunghoon takes a deep breath, hesitating at the last minute. He brings out his arms and pulls you into a hug, embracing you in his warmth; at the same time stepping over the line he’s placed between himself and you. He lingers around longer than you expect him to, and when he finally pulls away, the tip of his ears are flushed red.

“You’ll do great,” Sunghoon whispers, squeezing your shoulders in hopes of channelling the confidence he has in your ability, to you. “I know that.”

You smile warmly at him.

This is why you can’t stop falling in love with him—Park Sunghoon—your own best friend. He knows you so well, probably even more than you know yourself. He knows exactly when you need anything, and perfectly how you need things. He makes you feel like it’s so easy to befriend you—like loving you is the easiest thing in the world, even if it was platonic.

Everything is simple and easy when you’re with Sunghoon.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected]

Dear Sunghoon,

I hope you’re doing okay. National state exams are coming in less than a week, and I’m a total nervous wreck. I’ve been studying every single day, but I don’t know… I wish I planned things out better. I don’t know if I’ve memorised everything, if I’ve reviewed everything, and if I’ve done enough practice questions.

I’m laughing at myself right now. So ironic, right? I’m Decelis Academy’s prodigy, the so-called “academic weapon” of our school, but I can’t even get studying right.

I haven’t been studying properly these past few days. I can’t even open my eyes… my head hurts and nothing makes sense. I don’t know, Sunghoon. I wish burnout didn’t exist. And I sincerely hope that you’re not going through the same thing as me.

Sent 12:48 PM, 9th November.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected]

Hoon,

Why am I like this? Why can’t I study properly? Every passing minute I feel more like a failure. Why can’t I memorise anything? I’m so dumb. So stupid.

I don’t know anymore.

Sent 8:03 AM, 10th November.

Sunghoon grabs a coat and quickly heads out of his house, desperate to get fresh air. Studying has gotten his head clogged, and for the first time in a while, he believes that burnout is real. He hasn’t even been to two weeks of hockey practice, and that is significant for someone like Sunghoon.

He grabs his smartphone out of his pocket and opens one of the only pinned contacts in his messages—you. He’s worried; you haven’t texted him back in three days. And knowing you, Sunghoon guesses that you probably forgot to respond to him due to your intense studying.

Since he’s already out and about to talk a walk, he might as well grab a refresher or two and visit you. Sunghoon stops by a cafe near your school, one that he specifically knew to always have your favourite strawberry danish. He buys two of them along with two cups of lemon sprite, swiftly catching a taxi to arrive at your house faster.

After sitting down, Sunghoon texts you.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ hey, have you had lunch?

And to his surprise, he gets a response within three minutes.

Though, it wasn’t from you.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ sunghoon, this is heeseung

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ y/n’s in the hospital

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ she collapsed

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ the doctor said it’s bc she hasn’t eaten the past few days

Sunghoon feels his heart stop for a split second. His world starts spinning as his eyes widen in shock. His hands start to shake, making it hard for him to type a response to Heeseung. Fear starts to creep up on him, and malicious thoughts fill his brain.

Sunghoon shakily calls out to the driver to change the route and bring him to the hospital—his heart banging loudly against his chest every second of it.

　　　 teaser 　　　　　┊　　　　　　previous 　　　　　　┊　　　　　　next

― © onlyjjong, 2024.

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kanmom51 · 5 hours ago

Text

Jikook came home

God, how I missed this.

How I miss them!!

Before getting into the whole JM post followed by the cute-flirty interaction that followed, I will take this opportunity in congratulating both JM and JK for their MAMA awards achievements.

JM winning Daesang fans choice of the year.🎉🎉

JK winning top 10 fans choice, best male artist and best dance performance (SNTY).🎉🎉

JM being the sweetheart that he is came to us with a lengthy post to thank Army for voting and receiving a Daesang.

There are a couple of nuanced differences in some of the translations, but all in all, they are pretty much on the same page.

The main difference I've seen is the translation of this part:

벙벙 벙벙 벙벙벙벙벙

Being it "dumbfounded" or "stunned" or "bemused".

I think this probably captures it best:

And then we had JK....

Who was most likely sitting there right by JM's side, the speed of their back and forth being one of the indications to that (we are talking within seconds here), not to mention patterns of past behaviour with those two.

Do we discuss for a second the Weverse translation of the discussion?

Like wtf? 🤣🤣

Ok, so the actual translation would be:

Insert the word of bemusement of your choice I guess, lol. But basically we have JM telling us he's stunned/dumbfounded and mainly happy and then that back and forth between those two right in front of our salads.

Oh, and can someone explain the @JK to me please? I mean, I get JM @JK -ing when posting his replies, but why the hell is JK @JK -ing when posting his replies to JM?🤣🤣

The way those two keep doing this shit (in such a good way, may I add) is just absolutely and utterly hilarious.

This whole exchange gives me these vibes:

And Idk why, but this interaction came straight to mind as well when I saw this back and forth between them...

Take those two and combine them and then picture that in mind with this back and forth going on:

Oh, and do I mention that obviously they had access to Internet, enough to have this back and forth between them, while both in the same place, and JK preferring to flirt in our faces with JM rather than post himself about his wins, which I can assure you he knew of. You know how it is when you don't want to take away from your boyfriend's thunder...

Maybe we'll hear from him later on maybe not, but this was about JM, his win, his moment, his post, his excitement.

And JK CANNOT miss out on a little teasing-flirtatious banter with his man, now can he?

Let's back track for one moment, because I do want to talk about JM inserting JK into his post. I do believe this is going to be a new standard/constant/reality. You know, the "me and JK"/ "JK and I" or "me and JM"/"JM and I". That very natural way of inserting one another in their interactions/conversations with us. Now, don't get me wrong, this is not a new thing what so ever. They have been doing this since forever. But I do think that it's going to become more of a constant and less of a "OMG, he mentioned JK/JM" moment for us. They have shown us for years, but more so over the past year, just how important they are to each other, but even more so, just how intertwined their lives are with one another. They literally could not even part ways to do their military service!! Choosing to spend those 18 months together, even if it meant having to endure much harsher conditions and a much more difficult service as a whole. All to be able to be together. With each other. What I'm saying is that I do think we will be getting so much more of "US" from those two.

Openly and proudly.

US.

One last thing, and again this is either Jikook coincidence or kismet or maybe not too much of a coincidence and more of a conscious decision, but JM's post yesterday, 23 Nov 2024, was posted on the year mark of Jikook leaving for their oh so very special and emotionally charged Japan trip, 23 Nov 2023.

💜💜💜

Coincidence or not, we got Jikook back then, and after radio silence from those two for such a long time, we got Jikook yesterday again!!!

#Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #JunJi #Jungkook #jimin #JK #JM

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blog-o-meter · 10 hours ago

Text

Room 5 - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: (Y/N) escapes to a quaint little hotel by the beach for a few days. On the first night, she realizes that the hot guy in the neighboring room is a... loud guy, and she finds that she can't seem to escape him no matter where she goes.

warnings: 18+, voyeurism (auditory), self-masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v, cursing

required listening: 24 Hours by Sky Ferreira

word count: 17,415

a/n: sorry this one is so long (compared to my other fics), but I just had too much fun writing this one. I honestly could've gone writing more. If anything, I can just add on, but I think I wrapped a nice, little bow on this one. I hope you guys like it, and I would appreciate any and all notes and feedback!! pls enjoy :)

reblogs and likes are appreciated and lets me know if you'd like to see more!

The boutique hotel looked absolutely adorable, white brick on the outside and only two stories — a tiny café and gift shop downstairs and the rooms up top, just steps away from the ocean. It sat between two tall condo buildings, which mostly housed an older crowd of out-of-state tourists.

I was in search of the perfect place for a weekend getaway, and this place seemed to check all the boxes. It wasn’t near any of the busy beach accesses where all of the rowdy high schoolers seemed to hang out at, and the pictures of the café seemed like it was straight out of an interior designer’s Pinterest board. This place, The Pearl, seemed perfect.

Actually, I had been looking forward to this weekend for a long while, having booked this trip about a month ago. Funnily enough, I lived just 30 minutes away from the beach but never had the time to just get away for a couple of days — until now.

After I checked in, I carried my weekend bag and backpack up the narrow staircase to the second floor, the wood creaking underneath my sandals. When I turned on the mid-level landing, that’s when I heard a second set of footsteps coming down from above. I turned my head up, my eyes falling on the drop-dead gorgeous man carefully shuffling down the steps.

Our shoulders brushed as I squeezed by with my luggage, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver that branched out from where our arms grazed.

“Sorry,” I whispered without missing a beat.

The guy smiled politely as he turned his head back, his big, brown eyes inviting, “You’re good.”

My heart skipped a beat hearing his warm, low voice. The stranger was ridiculously attractive, his muscles bulging out of the wife beater covering his torso, his tousled brown hair elegantly falling over his eyebrows. His smile, though, was what made my skin prickle — a wide, genuine grin that showed off his perfectly white teeth behind his pink lips.

I returned a polite smile, continuing my journey up the stairs before he could notice my blushing cheeks. When I arrived to the top of the landing, I saw that the second floor was T-shaped, the rooms in ascending order the further I walked down the hallway.

I turned the corner, immediately sensing the change in atmosphere compared to the row of rooms I had just passed. This section of the hallway seemed much more secluded, quiet, possibly because, indeed, it was in its own corner of the floor away from all the other rooms.

I passed by the one other door in the hall, reaching my room — 6 — at the end where a singular window accented the softly-lit hallway. Setting my bags down, I fumbled for my phone, scrolling through my text messages with the hotel manager for the code to my door. I appreciated the fact that the rooms had a code to enter instead of a plastic key card that I could lose in the sand.

As I input the code into the lock, the wooden staircases creaked as a set of footsteps became louder and louder making their way toward me. It was the same handsome man I had brushed shoulders with earlier, a backpack slung over his shoulder as he approached the only other door, room 5.

Our eyes met briefly, a flicker of recognition in his. “Good night, neighbor,” he said with a slight nod, that same smile that made my chest warm flashing across his face as he made his way inside his room, the heavy door falling closed behind him.

I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. What are the odds the hot guy and I were staying next to each other? 1 in 5 it seems.

Shaking off the butterflies fluttering around my stomach, I finished inputting the code and dragging my bags inside the freezing room, stopping to admire the details of what my hard-earned paycheck had managed to spoil me with. The room was quaint, a neutral island color palette — the large bathroom and queen-sized bed to my right and the 70” flatscreen tv and closet on the shared wall to my left, a built-in marble counter all along the bottom.

The bathroom was my favorite: an art-deco flair with hints of coastal influence. The full shower was astounding in the best way possible — a beautiful mosaic pattern along the whole wall, double shower heads on opposite ends, and with enough space to possibly fit maybe 5 people. I could literally walk about ten steps between the two shower heads.

I walked back out to the room, setting my bags on the counter and starting to unpack, not in any particular rush to venture outside. As I organized my stuff — bikinis, pajamas, toiletries — I turned on the tv, flipping through channels and settling on HBO, Black Swan playing a few minutes in.

Enthralled by the movie and remembering I had a few snacks in my backpack, I changed into my pajamas and dug out a box of Lady Godiva chocolates from my backpack, climbing into bed and stretching out my arms and legs, excited to start my weekend getaway.

At some point, I had drifted off with a chocolate in my hand only to be awoken by a sound. I didn’t know what it was at first, choosing to ignore it and keeping my eyes closed, hoping I’d drift back to sleep. But it persisted, and it wasn’t a sound I had expected to hear — a woman’s moans.

My eyes fluttered open, thinking it might’ve been coming from the tv. After all, Black Swan did have a sex scene. However, I found the tv to be off. Maybe I had forgotten I turned it off myself before drifting off to sleep. Then, a low, drawn-out groan rumbled through, clear as day.

Oh.

My cheeks flushed, burning at the realization of what I was hearing. I mean, I know a boutique hotel might not have the same amenities as a more established hotel chain, but you’d think thicker walls would have been a forethought. How could somebody planning to open a hotel not have thicker walls?

Again, I heard the moaning, and there was only one other room in the hallway that they could be coming from — room 5, the hot guy. I sat up in bed, heart pounding as I processed what was happening in the room behind the tv. The sounds were so clear you’d think they were having sex in the hallway.

In fact, I thought just that. There was no way that was happening right? I walked up to my room door and carefully peeked my head out, finding the hallway empty.

I retreated back into my room, my heart racing. Any other person would’ve probably turned the tv back on, or put on some headphones, something to block out the sounds, but what I did, I couldn’t tell anyone else about. I stood frozen, listening. I listened past the rhythmic porn-like moaning of the faceless woman, instead focusing on the low rumble of the hot neighbor guy’s voice.

The closet that shared a wall with his room beckoned my name, tempting me to inch closer. Before I knew it, my bare feet were shuffling toward the closet door, quietly swinging it open. The space was small, just big enough to fit a luggage rack and a few hangers up top, but the rhythmic thumping and guttural groans just behind the plaster called out to me.

Carefully, I leaned over the luggage rack, pressing my cheek against the cold, white wall. Every sound was clearer now — the creak of the bed slowing to a stop, the huffing coming from my neighbor, and the yelps coming from the mysterious lady. I could even make out some words.

“Bend over,” my neighbor spoke, his voice deep and seductive.

My stomach twisted hearing him speak in such a commanding yet intimate manner. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that a stranger so polite in passing could be so primal behind closed doors; though, wasn’t everyone?

“You’re so huge, Nicholas,” the mystery lady spoke back.

I know I shouldn’t have been listening, but I was just so enthralled. Did they know just how thin the walls are, assuming they’d block out most sound like I did? I couldn’t imagine someone knowing the walls were thin and still choosing to have sex, especially knowing there was an occupied room next door.

The plaster was cool under my cheek, refreshingly so as I could feel myself becoming warmer and warmer. The sounds of their erotic encounter seemed to vibrate through the wall, through me. Without noticing, I had squeezed my thighs together, my hand finding its way at the band of my pajama pants. As soon as I felt my fingertip slip under my underwear, I was jolted out of my trance. What was I doing?

Before I could feel any more guilty for lingering longer than I should’ve, I pulled myself away from the wall and scampered back toward the bed, choosing to ignore what was going beyond next door, my heart racing. Grabbing my headphones from my nightstand and slipping them on, I threw myself into the sheets and turned on my white noise playlist. But as much as I forced myself to focus on the therapeutic noise, my imagination wandered, picturing the faces my neighbor — Nicholas — might be making right now as he pleasured the woman accompanying him. Before I knew it, though, I had managed to fall asleep.

In the morning, I made my way down the staircase to the hotel’s tiny café, eager to start my day with a light, sweet breakfast. As I descended down the last few steps, I looked over to the sea of tables, hesitation in my heels as my eyes landed on Nicholas sitting by his lonesome as he enjoyed a cup of steaming coffee in one hand and a beat-up book in the other.

Swallowing the thought of what I did, and listened to, last night, I walked past him and approached the café counter, the smell of warm croissants and muffins enveloping my nostrils, a temporary distraction that I was grateful to experience.

“Hi,” I politely smiled to the employee, “Can I just get an Italian crème croissant with a hot green tea, please?” I quietly asked, not wanting to interrupt the quiet, calm atmosphere for the patrons of the café.

The barista nodded her head, inputting my order into the tablet register, “We’ll send it over to your table,” she smiled.

I slipped her the money for my breakfast, smiling, “Thank you so much,” and making my way through the slew of empty tables.

I settled in at the corner table on the opposite end of the room, wanting to be as far away from Nicholas as possible to avoid any awkward conversations. Though, I may have chosen the worst table for my plan, accidentally giving myself a clear, unobstructed view of Nicholas from across the room.

His hair was damp, not purposefully styled in any particular way but still somehow falling over his eyebrows in such a perfect manner. He wore a loose flannel with a few buttons loose, the shirt billowing open to tease just enough of the gold cross chain draping over the sculpted valley between his chest.

He hadn’t noticed me yet, completely enthralled by what he was reading — Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller. I was stunned by his choice of literature. There was an old fellow a few tables down reading the newspaper to get his local news, meanwhile this guy, Nicholas, was probably on some page where the author is describing, in excruciating honesty, a night he had with a prostitute just as easily as one could describe their morning routine. In a way, I was impressed, curious.

As I waited for my breakfast, fiddling with my fingers, occasionally looking at my phone, my eyes would glance over toward Nicholas, my gaze lingering just a beat too long. The way he achingly turned the page, the tip of his finger playing at the corner of the paper, or the way he’d carefully bring the mug of coffee up to his lips — it was all so titillating.

Thankfully, though, the barista came over with a small pot of piping hot tea and my croissant, interrupting my trance and carefully setting down the items in front of me. Just as she left, my eyes flickered up to Nicholas to find that he had glanced up from his book, a polite smirk at the corner of his lips when his eyes met mine, lifting his mug in a silent, “Cheers.”

Not sure if I should wave or say hi or flash a toothy smile, I settled for a polite closed-mouth smile, lifting my mug back at him before quickly focusing my attention to the food in front of me as my cheeks grew warm. The greeting wasn’t graceful at all, but how could I focus on being graceful knowing I eavesdropped on his privacy just last night? If I was awkward at all, I figured it was my subconscious trying to punish me.

I served myself some tea and picked at my croissant as I looked out the window to the occasional family or couple walking down the street, all carrying their beach items and taking their time to get to the sand. I’d even glance around to the other patrons at the café. Though, I think part of me wanted to see if any of the girls would join Nicholas at his table and reveal herself to be the high-pitched moaner from last night. However, nobody ever did join him. Was he here alone? Or maybe she had taken the morning to be by herself.

Every impulse in me was begging me to take just one more look at Nicholas, to savor his image one last time, but I fought it. Everything except anything in Nicholas’s direction became intriguing to me. The checkered tile on the ground, the promotional poster on the window that I could barely read because of the sunshine striking through it, the older fellow enjoying his newspaper — I didn’t think I’d find myself focusing on the details of such things trying to avoid the gaze of some guy I had talked to for no more than 10 seconds, maybe less.

When I finished up, I quietly tidied the table, collecting all of the dishes and brushing off any crumbs, making my way out of the café and toward my car.

The breeze was refreshing, a nice whisper against my cheeks. I opened the trunk, staring at all of the beach gear I had to carry by myself. It was a struggle, but I managed to carry everything in both my arms — umbrella, picnic, basket, beach chair, headphones, blanket — using every crevice of my upper body to anchor something to me so it wouldn’t fall on the way over.

Thankfully, the beach access was right next to the hotel, and the path to the open sand wasn’t too long. When I got to the end of the path, I was grateful for having woken up early for the opportunity to pick a spot in an otherwise empty beach, a few umbrellas and chairs here and there from the condo occupants. I chose a spot that didn’t have any people too close by for maximum relaxation, carefully setting everything down on the sand.

I stabbed my pink, frilly cabana umbrella into the ground, laying out my beach blanket and beach chair in the shade, sliding everything else onto the corners of the blanket so the breeze wouldn’t pick the fabric up and blow sand toward me.

The water was calling my name, the light green water perfectly sparkling against the morning sun. But before I could strip my clothes off and jump in, I looked around to see if anybody would be looking as I pulled off my clothes. I didn’t see anybody particularly interested in my arrival, so I quickly pulled off my jean shorts and tee to reveal my glittery brown bikini set underneath. Before I became too hyper aware of my body, I walked toward the water, instead letting the feeling wash over me just as the waves of deliciously cold seawater did.

The occasional squawk of seagulls, the sun warming up my skin as it rose higher and higher in the sky and the sound of the waves crashing was all perfect. This moment was all I wanted out of this weekend. No distractions, no work — just me and the ocean. Needless to say, I was very excited to be able to repeat this routine for the next couple of days.

I continued walking into the water until I was chest-deep to let the ocean devour me whole. The feeling that a wave could crash over me entirely was exhilarating. The water slowly picked me up by my feet as I hopped around.

I lingered for a few more minutes in the water, splashing water around or searching for little fish before stepping back out once my fingers started to wrinkle. As I strutted out of the water, though, I saw the familiar shape of somebody relaxing in a chair just a few feet next to my umbrella — Nicholas.

I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, he was a guest in the hotel, too, after all. Why else would someone book a room in a hotel by the beach if they wouldn’t find themselves relaxing in the sand? But did he have to set up next to me when there was an entire football field of available space?

Meekly and careful not to trip or stumble on the way over, I walked toward my umbrella, fighting the urge to steal a glance at Nicholas, but from the corner of my eye I could see he sat there with his chest exposed. I had to let myself give in; what was the harm in a little peek?

He sat reclined in his chair, his skin deliciously glistening under the killer sun as he took it in. His hair was lightly brushing across his face from the sea breeze, like Mother Nature herself was playing with his hair. Nicholas’s long legs stretched out in front of him, his feet digging slightly into the sand. Both hands rested lazily on the arm of the chair, open. It was like he wanted to take up as much space as he could. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes; I couldn’t tell where he was looking or if he was looking anywhere at all. He radiated a kind of tranquility, as if the ocean had washed away any burdens he carried, something I hoped to experience myself this weekend.

I realized I was staring, my breath caught somewhere between awe and curiosity. I darted my eyes away, afraid I might be caught, which is absolutely the last thing I want.

Growing cold from the breeze brushing my wet skin, I grabbed my towel, drying myself off and squeezing the water out of my hair, mindful of turning myself from Nicholas so as to not flick any water droplets his way or have him think I was trying to grab his attention deliberately. Maybe he just sat there without knowing he had set up next to me. After all, I was in the water this entire time.

As I settled in, I brushed my wet hair over the back of my chair and reached for my picnic basket, pulling out my headphones, sunglasses, and my current read, White Oleander. I didn’t want to distract myself with any energetic music, instead opting to listen to the White Oleander movie soundtrack for the perfect accompaniment to the book.

I read through the chapter I had left off in, but I found myself having to reread some paragraphs, even entire pages, every time I saw Nicholas shift in his seat from the corner of my eye every few seconds. Even the way he jittered his knee up and down was distracting, almost like he wanted to grab my attention. After some minutes, he stood up from his chair, letting out a groan as he slowly stretched his arms and walked toward the water, and I silently thanked the universe for finally letting me have a few minutes to myself.

Though, I couldn’t help but occasionally glance up from my book to observe Nicholas in the water. The sun accentuated his muscles in an almost picturesque way, the stark shadow falling under each crevice of his body perfectly. He cut through the water like a knife as he walked deeper and deeper in the water, splashing water over his chest and shoulders, eventually dipping himself under the water to wet his hair. When he reemerged, the surface broke with a powerful splash, Nicholas throwing his head back and brushing his hair back with his hands.

Shaking myself out of Nicholas’s trance, I buried myself back in my book, trying not to look back up to him and letting myself get lost in the story, and for a while, I did. However, the universe seemed to like playing cruel jokes. About two chapters later, a shadow crossed my face. Curious to know if it was a bird or somebody’s umbrella flying away, I looked up to find Nicholas standing in front of me with a small grin.

“Good book?” He asked, drying his hair with a towel.

Shocked, I almost couldn’t form any words, but I managed to spit out a normal-sounding sentence, “Uh, so far, yeah, but I’m more familiar with the movie.”

“I’ve never seen it,” he confessed, dragging the towel up and down his dripping torso, almost deliberately. “Do you recommend it?”

I was quiet first, trying to clear my head of any thoughts of the night before that kept replaying in my mind. My eyes drifted up from his torso to the smile on his face, his straight white teeth in full show. Thank god I had my sunglasses on

“Totally. The dialogue in that movie is…” I trilled my lips, searching for the right word, “poignant.”

“Sounds raw,” he threw the towel over his shoulder, resting his hands on his hips, his lat muscles flexing outward like wings. “Is it your favorite movie?” He asked as he sat down in his chair, shifting until he found a comfortable position.

“One of,” I replied, turning my head to face him.

“I’ll check it out then,” he smiled, grabbing Tropic of Cancer out from under his chair and spreading it open.

“There’s a movie on that one, too,” I pointed to the book in his hands.

“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow, looking at the cover of the paperback, like he had forgotten what book he was reading. But then, a cheeky grin grew on his lips, “Did you like it?”

I couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle, knowing what Nicholas had meant. “I wouldn’t know; I’ve never seen it,” I smiled, turning my head back to the book in my hands, having almost forgotten about it.

All I heard back from him was a quiet chuckle before he settled back into his chair, the both of us reading their respective books.

After a half hour, I tossed the book and my sunglasses back into the basket and walked out over to the water. I paused at the dry edge of the sand, letting the water nip at my toes, trying not to picture Nicholas behind me. He could have been glancing at me as I made my way over, but he could also be looking at the sky, or the book in his hands, or maybe even his phone. As much as I wanted to peek over my shoulder, I continued forward, letting the sea swallow me.

I lingered, brushing my fingertips over the surface as I planted myself in knee-deep water, clutching the sand underneath my toes as it dissolved under me. As the water hugged my calves, I searched the water for anything I could find — maybe a lost pair of sunglasses, some little fishes, or maybe a conch laying at the bottom of the ocean floor. To no avail, I slowly started to retreat from the water, picking my head up to find Nicholas was looking forward, hiding behind his sunglasses again.

I didn’t let the fact he was looking over to my direction affect my ability to walk properly. After all, he could be looking past me. Maybe under those sunglasses he had his eyes closed. I wouldn’t know. However plausible any of those situations were, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

Upon approaching my chair, I wrapped myself in the damp towel, deciding that my time at the beach for today would be over for now. Slowly, I started to pack up my things, but I honestly didn’t know how I was gonna carry everything back now that I was damp and shivering. I tried juggling some of the things in my arms, but occasionally something would slip from my grasp. I really tried not to seem so helpless, but when the umbrella slipped out from under my arms with a loud thump, I knew keeping up that ruse wouldn’t work.

“Need help?” I heard Nicholas’s voice behind me.

I turned around, catching him push his sunglasses to the top of his head to show off his crinkled eyes, smiling. It seemed to be more from amusement at watching me struggle, not smiling from politeness.

I struggled to hold onto everything in my arms, “No,” I shook my head, laughing nervously. “I mean, I managed to bring everything over in the morning.”

An exhale escaped his lips before he tossed the book to the sand and stood up from his chair, making his way over with a satisfied look, “Let me help.”

I bit my lip, debating if I should let him help or to just push him away so I wouldn’t have that constant reminder of hearing him have sex in my head. Before I could answer, though, Nicholas grabbed the beach chair out from under my arm and picked the umbrella up off the floor.

“Thank you,” I mumbled as I adjusted the remaining items in my arms, now much more manageable without having to carry the bigger things.

“No problem,” he spoke in a low tone, that same tone I overheard when he said ‘Bend over’ to the woman in his bed last night.

My breath caught in my throat. Suddenly, I felt inexplicably warm, like the back of my neck was on fire. His expression was soft, casual, like the same man I had run into in the hallway yesterday, not at all like the man I heard in his room in a false sense of privacy.

We walked back toward the hotel, the sand kicking up behind us with every step. I was too afraid to say anything to him at all after remembering the way he spoke to his late night companion.

“So, are you from around here?” He spoke up, his voice cutting the tension that only I seemed to be aware of.

“Kind of,” I replied, hiding my face behind my damp hair, “I live 30 minutes out. I just came here on a solo-trip for a few days to escape. You?” I didn’t expect the question to slip from my lips, but in a way, I guess, I wanted to coax information out of him. Maybe if I knew more about him, that pang of guilt in my stomach would leave on its own.

He stifled a chuckle, “Not at all. I’m from Colorado, actually.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised at the answer, “Wouldn’t California beaches be closer to you, maybe even look better than this old shore?” I looked back out into the beach, admiring its charm, but even then, I know it wouldn’t compare to a California beach.

“Actually, I live in LA, so I go out there all the time. I guess, I just wanted to visit a different place,” he answered.

I was surprised at his honesty, but I scoffed, not believing that any person from out of town would want to come here willingly, “Well, you picked a different place, indeed. Not much goes on around here, except when it’s spring break.”

Nicholas stifled a warm chuckle, “Yeah, I think I read that online.”

A part of me wanted to prod. Was he single? Who was that girl from last night? Another guest? The only appropriate question that I could think of that didn’t sound too suspicious was, “Are you here on a solo-trip, too?”

He nodded his head, “Yeah, I do a lot of solo travel. There’s a certain freedom in not having to worry about anyone else except yourself.”

I glanced over to him and saw a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he looked over to me. Something fluttered in my chest, or maybe it was just the droplets of water trailing down from my head.

“Sounds liberating,” I managed to spurt out before the long pause became too awkward.

“It is, but sometimes it’s nice to share it with someone else, even for a little bit,” he said, his words hanging in the air.

I didn’t dare reply. I wasn’t sure if he was alluding to our current moment or maybe to the similar encounters of last night he has with women during his trips. Of course, there’s no way he’d know that I knew what he did behind closed doors, but what if he did?

“Yeah,” I absentmindedly agreed to his statement, eager to cut the conversation short.

We arrived at my car. I opened the trunk with my keys that were in my picnic basket, watching as Nicholas bent over to place the umbrella and chair inside, then grabbing everything from my arms and setting them beside each other, closing the trunk.

“My name’s Nicholas,” he held his hand out for me to shake.

That’s when I realized that he had never introduced himself. The only reason I knew his name was because I had my ear pressed against the wall just as his lady friend from last night had moaned it out of her lips.

I hesitated for just a fraction of a second before breaking through that one-sided tension and reaching out to shake his hand, his warm palm sending a shiver up my arm, “(Y/N),” I introduced myself, meeting his gaze for a second or two before looking down at my feet.

“Pretty name,” he smiled.

Blushing, I shyly said, “Thanks,” retreating my hand from his grasp and whipping back a strand of wet hair behind me.

Nicholas lingered a moment longer, the soft curve of his smile inviting me to hold his gaze. “Any chance you’d wanna get a drink later?”

I blinked, my mind scrambling for a response as the question hung between us. This stranger, Nicholas, was never meant to be more than just some nameless blur that happened to also be a guest at the same hotel I was staying. We were only supposed to bump into each other a few times in the hallway, never going into conversation and being fine with that. Now, here he was, asking me if I wanted to have a drink with him.

I kicked my feet nervously, looking down, afraid to look him in the eye as I turned down his offer, “Actually, I have plans.”

His brow lifted slightly, an amused look on his face. “Solo plans?” he asked, clearly poking fun at my earlier words.

I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, despite my nerves. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Fair enough,” he said, his tone casual but with a glimmer of understanding. “But if you change your mind…” he leaned in the tiniest bit, some tiny droplets from his hair dripping onto my skin, “you know where I’m staying,” a mischievous smirk at the end of his lips.

I felt my stomach jump at his words, catching the double meaning. He lingered a bit too long, like he was testing me, before he pulled back, still smirking.

I nodded, “Yeah, I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

I watched as he walked past, sauntering back toward the beach. The way his shoulders shifted as he walked, relaxed yet deliberate, made it impossible to look away. The nerve of him, the audacity to be this calm, this magnetic. Maybe it’s because I’m never forward with people I just met, especially if I think they’re attractive, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the swagger Nicholas oozed. It was like he was aware of the effect he had on me.

Desperate to wash away the sand in my crevices, I trotted toward the hotel entrance, going up the stairway and to my room. I felt relief when the cold air of the room hit my face, pulling my hair away from the back of my neck so the air could creep its way and bring some relief to my flustered self. My head buzzed, replaying anything having to do with Nicholas — the way he dried his towel in front of me, his soft chuckles, even the way he walked.

Get it together, (Y/N). He’s just a guy. Just a guy you won’t see ever again after this weekend. Ever.

I sighed, dragging myself to the shower and stripping the wet bikini off my body and letting it fall to the floor without a second thought.

I was grateful the shower was huge, that way I didn’t feel as suffocated with the warm water steaming up the glass. However, each time I closed my eyes to let the water fall on my face, all I could picture was Nicholas’s charming smile, all I could hear in my head was the way he said ‘Bend over’ to the girl in his bed last night, and suddenly, I could feel a tension pool low in my belly.

Fed up, I turned the faucet knob to cold, shuddering and gasping loudly the moment it fell down my spine. It might’ve been drastic, but it did help. All I could focus on was trying not to tremble under the cold stream of water enveloping me instead of focusing on a certain man.

Once I was done with my shower, I wrapped my hair and body in a towel each, padding out into the cold room, my ankles shuddering at the cold floor beneath me. I changed into a casual set of clothes, thinking I’d probably go out for a walk later. As I dried my hair with the towel, I made my way over to the window, looking out toward the beach to see Nicholas still lounging out in the sand. He was splayed out on the chair, legs wide open as he leaned back and looked out into the water.

Tired of my mind drifting to him, I jumped into bed and put on my headphones, opening up Hulu to catch up on shows. Before I knew it, hours had gone by and it had become nightfall.

I walked to my luggage resting on the built-in counter, zipping it open to pull out a bag of chips I had bought before arriving. That’s when I heard a light knock on my door. I froze at the sound, too scared to shuffle over and check who it was.

“(Y/N), you there?” I heard Nicholas’s voice call out. I didn’t answer, standing still, my heart almost pounding out of my chest. “If you are, I’m heading over to the bar across the street, if you wanna join me,” he calmly spoke through the door, his voice cool and collected.

After a bit, I heard his feet shuffle away, becoming fainter and fainter. I still didn’t dare move an inch, paranoid he might’ve pulled a fake-out and is actually still standing outside my door. I sat on the counter, debating his invitation, but I decided against it. I’m not exactly sure why; any other girl would already have been out the door by now. I just had to trust my gut on this.

Later that night, at about 1:30AM, I found myself still awake, quietly scrolling Instagram on my phone. That’s when I heard the loud giggles of a woman outside in the hall, followed by a deep shush, the giggles falling to a quiet mumble as I heard a door open and quickly fall closed. I ignored the sounds, continuing to scroll and catch up on posts I missed during the day.

Some minutes pass by, about 10. That’s when I heard the bed on the other side begin to thump against the wall, a lady slowly starting to moan. The moans sounded different, belonging to another woman. Then, the all-too-familiar grunts coming from Nicholas started to join in.

I couldn’t reach for my headphones to drown out the sounds of sex coming from the other side; my headphones had died just 30 minutes earlier, now charging on the outlet above the counter. Tossing and turning in bed, I burrowed myself under the covers, hoping it would make some barrier, but to no avail.

Irritated, I walked over to the counter, checking to see if my headphones had any juice that I could use even for just a few minutes until I fell asleep. Just as I reached to disconnect them from their charger, that’s when I heard Nicholas’s voice rumble through the wall.

“You’re so hot,” he said, his tone thick with pleasure.

I stood there frozen, my hand still hovering over my headphones. The more I heard Nicholas speak, the more I found myself inching closer toward the closet. My heart was racing, beating faster the moment I opened the closet doors, carefully stepping inside and resting my cheek against the shared wall.

I knew I shouldn’t have been listening in, again, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was this urge that I had to follow through with. I closed my eyes for a moment, listening past the girly moans and searching for Nicholas’s voice. My chest grew tighter, my thoughts beginning to spiral.

“Just like that,” he growled.

Had I said yes to drinks, would that have been me in there? Would I be the one moaning under him instead of the mystery girl inside? My stomach tightened at the thought, frustrated. I’m not sure why I was letting it get to me like that. Maybe because hindsight is always twenty-twenty. But just knowing that it might’ve been me Nicholas said all those things to had I just agreed to drinks… It drove me crazy.

“Say my name.”

My body tensed at his words. Somewhere between spiraling and intrigued by the events happening on the other side, I had closed my eyes, achingly moving my hand to my shorts, slipping it under the waistband. What if I just pretended it was me he was saying all those things to?

I clenched my teeth, feeling a heat bubbling low in my belly as it slowly rose up to my chest. The sound of Nicholas’s voice; he sounded so close yet we were separated by this thin wall. It was maddening. I slipped my fingers under my underwear, grazing them over my damp self. I covered my mouth with my other hand, proactive about not wanting to be heard from the other side just as I heard them.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Nicholas groaned on the other side.

My breathing became deep, my nostrils pushing out all the air that couldn’t leave my mouth. As my fingers found my throbbing bud, I quietly whimpered out, pretending Nicholas was saying those words to me. I rubbed myself in small circles, bucking my hips into my fingers.

On the opposite side of the wall, Nicholas’s groaning had become guttural, primal. The more the headboard thumped against the shared wall, the more powerful his movements had become. At one point, I thought something might fall off the wall from my side of the room.

As I slipped a finger, then another, inside myself, my breathing became erratic. I imagined Nicholas taking me, right now as I am, hard at the thought that I had been listening in on his sexual escapades. Maybe he’d push me up against the wall, cornering me so that I might not escape him. He seems like the type to want to be in control, and I’d be happy to give it to him.

I pumped my fingers slowly, at first, but then picked up the speed to match the thumping on the wall. The tension in me began to build tighter and tighter. I was so close to collapsing in pleasure, but the moment I heard a loud moan escape the woman’s lips from the other side, I was taken out of my imagination completely, remembering that it wasn’t me he was having sex with.

My eyes ripped open, realizing what I had been doing. I pulled my fingers out and collected myself, shamefully walking out of the closet and reaching for the headphones on the counter. I couldn’t believe that I had been pleasuring myself to the sounds of somebody else having sex. Even more embarrassingly so, I didn’t even arrive to a climax, so I couldn’t even say it was worth it.

I climbed back into bed, trying hard to ignore the sounds coming from the other side and slipping on my headphones, putting on anything that would distract my mind.

The next day, I didn’t wake up as early as I had liked. I ended up falling asleep pretty late, almost 2:30 in the morning, which was not my usual bedtime, clearly. But it was 12PM, still enough time to enjoy a light brunch before officially starting the day.

I changed into some loose clothes, making my way down to the café. Even though I felt guilty about last night, I felt ok enough to confidently walk into the café knowing Nicholas wouldn’t be there. Either he’d be too tired from his late night drinking and stayed in, or he would’ve started his day earlier and already had his coffee for the day. And when I entered the area, I found myself to be correct. He wasn’t there.

Comfortably, I ordered the same meal from yesterday, a croissant and a pot of tea, taking my seat at the same table. What can I say, I’m a creature of habit. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Almost as soon as I sat down, the barista came over with my things, setting them down with a polite smile. Tired and hungry, I pulled a chunk out of the croissant and placed it into my mouth, savoring its sweet taste. I enjoyed my first meal of the day calmly and slowly, relaxed to know I wouldn’t bump into Nicholas right now. Maybe I’d have a few hours to myself before I did. But of course, my peace was short-lived.

As I picked at my food, the front door to the hotel chimed. I was too focused on pouring myself the last few ounces of tea into my mug to look up, but I didn’t have to. A familiar presence approached my table, “Mind if I join you?” Nicholas asked.

I looked up, my eyes locking onto his. He had that oh-so charming smile plastered on his face — innocent, as if he wasn’t the one partially responsible for keeping me up late.

“Sure,” I said, pulling the pot away from my mug.

He pulled up a chair from the neighboring table, sitting down across from me while his gaze flickered down at my half-eaten croissant. “You like taking your time, don’t you?”

I felt a rush of heat creeping up the back of my neck at his casual teasing. He was wearing a faded tee, not from age but one that looked like it had been drying out in the sun too long, his gold cross chain hidden under the collar. I’m sure he looked good in anything he wore.

“Don’t you?” I asked without missing a beat.

Nicholas stifled a smirk, tapping his finger against the table, “So what’d you do last night?”

I almost choked on my own spit at the question, clearing my throat. Dear god, please let me not stumble over my words. “Not much, why?”

He sharply inhaled, like he was unsure if he should answer, “I had knocked on your door to invite you out to the bar again, but you didn’t answer.”

I stifled a chuckle, shrugging my shoulders, “Why? Were you afraid I was doing something better?”

Nicholas’s fingers played at the edge of my plate, smirking. “I figured you were out walking or something,” he smiled.

“Well, I planned to,” I picked at my croissant, ripping off a tiny piece and placing it in my mouth, “but I ended up staying in.”

“Oh? You stayed in?” He shifted in his seat, thinking about his next words. “Sleeping?”

I calculated my answer. I didn’t want him to be embarrassed about the fact that I could hear him having sex the past two nights. “Yeah, early night,” I kept it short, hoping he’d drop the subject or, at least, change the topic.

I wasn’t sure if he believed me, but I didn’t care to elaborate. His presence was disarming enough without dredging up last night’s… intrusive thoughts. Instead, I took another sip of tea and focused on not meeting his gaze.

“So, then why’d you come down here so late in the morning?” He asked, a grin playing at his lips.

I stumbled on my words, trying to find an answer, Nicholas becoming more amused and entertained the more I stumbled. Was he waiting around for me? Did he know his proclivities had kept me up? Did he know I could hear through the walls?

“Lazy morning,” I shrugged my shoulders. He stifled a chuckle, accepting my answer without too much kickback. “What about you?” I asked, turning the tables on him. “What did you get up to last night?”

His grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew sharper, and he leaned forward just slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Me? Nothing much,” his finger twiddled near my croissant, pushing around the tea spoon next to it, “I had a drink or two. A little company.” His eyes flickered up to meet mine.

I swallowed hard, the tension between us thickening. His choice of words hung in the air, deliberate and calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing dangling that tidbit of information in front of me, seeing if I’d bite, but I wasn’t going to.

Taking a sip of my tea, I pretended to brush off his words, “Sounds like you had fun,” I spoke casually, keeping my expression neutral.

Nicholas tilted his head, watching me closely. “I would’ve had even more fun, but I had some plans fall through,” he paused, “I had to improvise.”

Oh, the calculation in his words were driving me mad, especially because I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of baiting a specific reaction out of me. Was I right? Could that have been me in his room last night if I decided to go out with him?

I set the cup down as calmly as I could manage, but inside, I was shaking, “Doesn’t seem like you had any trouble improvising, then.”

For a moment, Nicholas’s fingers stopped tapping against the plate, that infuriating smirk returning. He leaned back into his chair, amused, “You heard, didn’t you?“

My eyes nearly fell out of my head, but I tried to keep it cool, "Heard what?"

His laugh was soft but full of certainty. "Come on, (Y/N). I heard you watching a movie the other night. These walls,” he gestured lazily toward the ceiling, “are paper thin; it was like I was in your room watching it with you.” He leaned toward me, resting his arms on the table again, “That’s why you woke up late, isn’t it?"

God, I wanted to shrivel up and die right then and there. It was absolutely infuriating how he could figure me out so easily. But my suspicions were confirmed — he did know, this entire time, and he still decided to have loud sex knowing anybody in the neighboring room could hear. And he had no shame about it!

My face burned with embarrassment, and l avoided his gaze like my life depended on it. "I didn't hear anything," I stammered, lying so poorly I might as well have just admitted the truth. “I’m a deep sleeper.”

Nicholas tilted his head, that insufferable smirk deepening. “A deep sleeper, huh?” His voice dripped with amusement. He rested his chin in his palm as he studied me like I was some kind of puzzle. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”

My grip tightened on the edge of the table, desperate to regain some semblance of control.

“For what it's worth...” Nicholas pushed back his chair and stood, smiling down at me. He leaned down toward me, his tone softening just enough to send a shiver down my spine. "If I'd known you were listening, I might've put on a better show." He took a small bite of my croissant, dusting the crumbs off his hands and making his way toward the door, winking at me before he exited.

Unable to fathom what had just happened, I stayed planted in my seat. Did he seriously just say that? My thoughts spiraled. Was this a game to him? Could he tell just how truly flustered I was by his teasing? Was I really that easy to rile up?

I pushed my plate and mug away from me, hoping to regain some space to avoid feeling suffocated by the remnants of his presence that Nicholas had left behind in his wake. And yet, I couldn’t deny the pull he had on me. No matter how hard I tried to push it down, to deny the heat in my cheeks and the butterflies in my stomach, it was there. Nicholas was under my skin.

I tried to avoid running into him the rest of the day, to suffocate him out of me like one would a parasite, but to know you’re avoiding someone, you’d have to be on the lookout, on your toes. Every corner I turned, I checked to see if he was there. Every room I entered, I scanned around looking for his distinct tousled hair. On the beach, I hid behind my sunglasses, scanning the shore for the familiar build of him. Finding him nowhere, I relaxed a bit, choosing to free myself and going for a short walk along the water.

I let the water lap around my ankles, rhythmically enveloping them as I slowly walked along the borderline empty beach. I picked up a few shells that caught my eye — only the colorful, unique ones. In fact, I kept walking, walking, and walking until it became evening, the sun setting over the beach, slowly but surely.

I returned to my spot, sitting back and admiring the colors of the sky. In fact, I was so relaxed, huddled under my towel, that I may have yawned once or twice. As I continued to look out into the horizon, I felt a cold tap on my shoulder, turning my head up to see who was interrupting my moment of relaxation. Of course, by now, I already knew who.

Nicholas stood there, towering over me with a pair of beers in his hand, holding one out for me. “Pretty, right?” He asked with a smile, looking out into the purple water.

I glanced at the beer in his outstretched hand before shifting my gaze to his face, the fading sunlight casting an orange glow over his sharp features. I kept my expression neutral, taking the beer from him without a word. He took that as an invitation to plop down in the space next to me, stretching his legs out and taking a sip from his can.

We sat there in silence for a while, the only sounds being the gentle crash of waves and the occasional chatter of distant beachgoers. It was… oddly peaceful, almost enough to make me forget about the tension that seemed to follow us — or should I say, me — like a shadow. Maybe, also, because I was a little sleepy.

“So, did you find what you were looking for today?” Nicholas asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You were walking up and down the beach for hours,” he said, motioning toward the small pile of shells I’d collected.

My mouth grew to a smile, cocky, “You were watching me for hours?”

For the first time, Nicholas stammered on his words, and it was a sight I was incredibly amused by. His head fell as he chuckled, maybe flustered that I had finally caught him in a moment instead of the other way around, “Yeah,” he nodded his head, his cheeks pink, “I was.”

I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at my lips. Watching him falter, even slightly, was a rare treat, one I planned to savor. “I can see why you like pushing people’s buttons now.”

“I don’t like pushing people’s buttons,” he said as he brought the beer to his lips, “just yours.”

It was insane just how quickly Nicholas could turn something back onto you. The admission was so casual, yet it hit me like a rogue wave. I stared at him, half-expecting him to laugh or brush it off as a joke, but he simply leaned back on his hands, eyes on the horizon like he hadn’t just set my pulse racing.

“I’m sure you say that to all your company,” I turned to face the water, sipping on my beer and trying to hide my flushed cheeks. I chose my words carefully, wanting to see how’d he react.

Nicholas let out a low chuckle beside me. “I don’t,” he said simply, his voice drawing me in despite myself. “Only you.”

I stole a quick glance at him, but he was already looking ahead, the way his profile caught the last rays of the setting sun, casting long shadows across his features. There was something magnetic about him, and the more time I spent around him, the more I couldn’t ignore it. He was confident, teasing, but there was something underneath, something deeper that made it hard to read him completely.

A part of me wanted to challenge him, maybe even keep him on his toes. But there was another part of me, the part I kept hidden, that wanted to give in to the tension, to see where it could lead. My mind raced with the possibilities, each thought contradicting the last, until I was sure I was overthinking every moment, every word we exchanged.

I cleared my throat and shifted my position in the chair, facing toward him completely. “Indulge me. What makes me so different that you just can’t help but push my buttons?”

He smiled, like he had an answer prepared since the moment we met, “You don’t give in easily, but you seem like the type to give yourself completely once you do.”

Nicholas’s words lingered in the air, making my pulse quicken. It was strange how effortlessly he could unravel me with just a few words. I tried to maintain my composure, but the quiet between us seemed to stretch longer than I was comfortable with. His words felt like a challenge, but also like a promise. My mind kept drifting back to the night before, to the sounds of him on the other side of the wall.

“I’m not so sure about that,” I replied, keeping my voice steady, though it didn’t quite mask the undercurrent of uncertainty I was feeling.

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he shifted closer. “Really? Because there’s only so much pressure somebody can take before they start to crack.”

I wanted to say something sharp, something that would put distance between us, but his confidence was suffocating, almost intoxicating. I couldn’t seem to gather the words to shut him down. So, instead, I took another long sip from my beer, pretending to focus on the view ahead of me, though my mind was anything but at ease.

His smile widened, “Aren’t you cracking?”

For a moment, it felt like time stopped. The world seemed to fade into the background, and it was just the two of us, sitting there in the fading sunlight, with nothing but the sound of the waves and the sudden weight of his words hanging between us.

I cleared my throat, finishing my beer, “I don’t think so,” I said lightly, trying to mask the effect his words had on me.

“We’ll see about that then,” he finally said, his voice low and casual, though I could tell there was a hint of challenge in it.

I was almost afraid to look at him, afraid of what I might see in his eyes. But I couldn’t help it. Slowly, I turned my head, and our eyes met, the connection between us palpable. My head slowly started to move forward by itself, millimeter by millimeter, toward Nicholas. My heart raced faster and faster, it was practically thumping out of my chest when I realized that he was leaning in, too. Right as I was about to close my eyes to welcome whatever was about to happen, I heard a group of people loudly laugh as they passed by behind us. I quietly chuckled to myself, thinking that may be my cue to leave.

Satiating my dose of Nicholas for the day, I dusted myself off and stood up from the beach chair, handing him my empty beer bottle, “I guess we will,” I said, not too much of a challenge behind my words. I grabbed my chair and looked back at Nicholas with a friendly grin before walking off.

I couldn’t shake the feeling of Nicholas’s eyes on me, but I powered through, making my way to my room. The second I entered, I went to the bathroom and stripped off my sandy clothes, turning on the shower to warm myself up from sitting in the cool, evening breeze. The hot water streamed over my skin, washing away the lingering chill from the beach. I let out a deep breath, closing my eyes as the steam began to fill the space.

My mind wandered back to the conversation with Nicholas. His words replayed in my head, their weight sinking in a little deeper with each memory: We’ll see about that.

After my shower, I slipped into a cozy tee and shorts, feeling a bit more grounded. I sat by the window, towel drying my hair, watching the moonlight dance on the water. The calm of the night settled around me, but my mind was still restless.

To distract myself, I turned on the tv, not caring what was on but making sure to keep the sound at a reasonable volume to not disturb Nicholas but just loud enough that I might not hear tonight’s mystery woman moan through the wall.

As the night stretched on, I tried my best to focus on the random show playing on the screen, but my thoughts kept drifting. Every sound outside my window, every muffled thump from the hallway, made my heart race just a little faster thinking it might be Nicholas arriving to his room.

The hours ticked by. I hadn’t heard anything from his side of the wall yet — not a voice, not the creak of a bedframe, nothing. It was almost worse than the alternative. The anticipation was maddening. I half-wondered if he knew I was waiting, if he was deliberately drawing this out just to mess with me.

Finally, around midnight, I heard the faintest sound of a door opening and closing. My stomach twisted, though I wasn’t sure why. I told myself I didn’t care, that whatever he did wasn’t any of my business. There were a few thumps followed by a silence on the other side. I tried to focus on the tv but my ears seemed to be tuned in on what was going on the opposite side of the wall.

Minutes passed, and the silence persisted. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Nicholas had turned over a new leaf tonight, or maybe he just couldn’t hook himself a lady tonight. But just as my focus started to drift back to the tv, the silence was broken by a clear, unmistakable groan — Nicholas. I half-expected it to be followed by the high-pitched moan of a woman, like it was both nights prior, but it never came.

I should’ve turned the volume up, drowned it out, or grabbed my headphones. Instead, I sat there, frozen, as the groaning grew louder — his voice, unmistakable and far too close for comfort. I hated how my body reacted. The heat in my cheeks, the way my chest tightened with every noise, the throbbing sensation between my thighs. I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought, but I let my curiosity get the best of me.

I slid off the bed and crept toward the closet, my heart pounding in my chest. My rational side screamed at me to stop, to mind my own business, but something about the sound of his voice pulled me in. But the little devil on my shoulder told me that I had already eavesdropped twice before, what’s one more time?

Opening the closet doors quietly, I leaned over the luggage rack and pressed my ear lightly against the cool surface of the wall, listening. The groans continued, low and guttural, accompanied by the light sound of a rhythmic wet slapping, sending an uninvited warmth through my body. It took a moment for me to realize there was no second voice, no telltale feminine giggle or breathy gasp. It was just Nicholas.

My breath caught in my throat. He's alone. The realization sent a shockwave through me, equal parts relief and something else I didn't want to name. He wasn't with anyone tonight. He was... taking care of himself.

I pressed my forehead against the wall, closing my eyes as his voice — raw, unguarded, and achingly intimate — filled my ears. My hand instinctively moved to my chest, clutching the fabric of my shirt as I fought the conflicting feelings that raced through me. However guilty I felt for listening in, I couldn’t pull myself away. I was entranced.

His groans deepened, interspersed with uneven breaths, and I felt my knees weaken. It was maddening how his voice seemed to reach right into me. My lips parted slightly, my breath shaky as my body betrayed me, responding to the sounds with a heat I tried desperately to ignore.

The wet slapping quickened, a whimper escaping his lips followed by erratic heavy breathing. I lost all inhibitions, slipping my hand under my underwear. I exhaled shakily, my head resting against the wall, feeling the vibrations of his voice travel through me. My fingers moved instinctively, slow and hesitant at first, matching the rhythm of the sounds spilling from him. Each groan, each sigh seemed to draw me deeper into a haze I couldn't escape.

My mind was a mess of contradictions: shame, desire, and something more dangerous — an unspoken connection, even if he didn't know I was there. I bit my lip, trying to stay as silent as possible, but the tension within me built with each passing moment, threatening to undo me entirely.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Nicholas quickly whined out, followed by a loud moan.

I slipped my other hand under my shirt, kneading my breast, as my fingers worked my throbbing clit. I felt the rapid beat of my heart as it matched the rhythm of his breath. The heat between my legs intensified, and the sound of his voice grew louder in my ears, pulling me further into the spiral. His groans were rough, almost frantic now, and I could feel every pulse, every heavy breath reverberating through the wall like it was echoing through my very bones.

I tried to focus, tried to pull myself out of this situation before it became something I couldn't undo, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't pull away, couldn't shake the pull of him. I closed my eyes tightly, my fingers rubbing harder against my clit in frantic circles, then moving them lower and slipping my middle and ring finger inside of me. Desperate, I pulled my shorts off me, letting them land at my feet.

My own breathing became erratic, escaping through my nostrils as I tried to keep myself from making any sound, biting the inside of my cheek and shutting my eyes closed as I pleasured myself.

His voice broke through the haze of my thoughts again. "God... need you..."

The words, the desperation in them, sent me into a frenzy. I couldn’t hold in my voice any longer — a quiet, whimper escaping my lips as I pumped my fingers inside me, pretending they were Nicholas’s. I could feel the tension in me coiling tighter and tighter the more I heard him talk through his pleasure.

A high-pitched groan slipped out of him, the wet slapping quickening even more. I could almost picture him on the other side — laying down in the middle of his bed, shirtless. his legs dangling off as he tugged at himself, his eyes shut as he grabbed at his hair, giving in.

My breath hitched at the vivid image in my mind. It was a dangerous thought, but one that I desperately wished I was there to see.

I could almost hear the strained breath in his throat, as if he was on the edge, about to break. The thought alone sent an electric charge through me, spurring me to move faster, my fingers pressing deeper, matching the intensity of his own rhythm.

"Please," he moaned, his voice broken, raw with need. "Fuck..."

The vulnerability in his voice, so exposed, so real, made me lose all control. I found myself unable to think or reason anymore. I was lost in him, in the sound of his pleasure, and in the dangerous path I was walking.

His voice faltered, his groans growing more frantic, and that's when I felt it — the sudden wave of warmth, the rush of sensation sweeping over me. But just as I was reaching my peak, so was he. Nicholas let out a sound so intimate and raw that it sent a shiver down my spine. Then came a low, guttural groan followed by the unmistakable — my name.

“(Y/N)- fuck!”

It happened just as I was about to reach orgasm, but I was so startled to hear my name that my eyes shot open and I stumbled back from the wall, knocking over the luggage rack below with a solid thud as it tipped over. I tried to catch it before it hit the floor, stumbling to reach for it, but my effort was for naught. A deafening silence filled the room after the loud noise quickly settled. The only thing I could hear was the loud thumping coming from my chest, becoming faster as I realized my predicament.

My breath came in shallow gasps, my body stiff with tension, caught somewhere between shock and embarrassment. On the other side of the wall, there was a beat of complete silence. I held my breath, waiting to hear something — anything — but nothing came. Not a footstep, not a sound. My mind raced, praying that Nicholas might’ve not heard the ruckus through his climax. Don’t orgasms dull one’s senses?

And then, as if the silence was suffocating me, I heard it. A faint creak — Nicholas’s door, opening then closing with a heavy thud. My chest tightened, anxiety coursing through my veins. I stood there frozen, my legs completely unable to move as if I had stuck them in buckets of cement. I felt every inch of my skin burn with humiliation. That’s when I heard a knock at my door, not light like the day before. It sounded desperate. I couldn’t run; I couldn’t hide. Nicholas knew I was in here.

Slowly, I inched closer to the door, my hand trembling as I reached for the doorknob. I tried to swallow my nerves, but I couldn’t fight the fact that I felt like I wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I breathed heavily as I opened the door, clutching at the edge as my eyes fell on Nicholas’s heaving bare chest.

He stood there, his chest rising and falling, glistening from the thin layer of sweat that he had worked up. A slight satisfied grin played on his lips as his eyes trailed down my body, lingering on my bottom half as I stood there in nothing but my shirt and lacy underwear.

He didn't wait for an invitation, stepping inside as soon as the door cracked open, closing it behind him with a deafening click. We stood there, facing each other, the silence hanging thick in the air. I could barely meet his gaze, my cheeks still burning with humiliation. I stammered, hoping to explain myself with a pathetic excuse of a reason, but he interrupted me with a quiet shush, still smirking.

He placed a finger gently over his lips, his eyes dark with something unreadable. "No need to explain," he whispered, stepping closer, his presence dominating the space between us. My breath hitched as he closed the distance, cornering me against the wall, his body heat enveloping me, making my pulse race.

The air felt thick, suffocating, as if the room was closing in on me with every breath. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't quite figure out what to do with my hands, so I held them behind my back, pressing them against the wall.

“Were you listening in?” He asked, brushing his hand up my sides before it settled on my hip, my body trembling under his touch. It was everything I wanted him to do to me, and yet, I still felt nervous under him.

Too ashamed of myself to open my mouth to answer, I nodded my head hesitantly. Nicholas's smirk widened, but there was no mockery in it. No teasing. His hand slid to my chin, tilting my head up so that our gazes locked. There was no escape now — no way to hide.

“I hoped you were,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, sending shivers down my spine. His thumb traced the line of my jaw slowly, deliberately.

He was so close now that I could feel his breath against my skin, and I was painfully aware of how badly my body was reacting to him. His thumb brushed over my lips, and I instinctively parted them, my breath hitching as his gaze softened, darkened. I could feel the tension between us, so thick that I could almost taste it.

His other hand slid around to the small of my back, pressing me into him, the heat of his body sending waves of electricity through me. His eyes never left mine, and I could hear the rapid beat of my own heart in my ears, drowning out everything else.

Nicholas murmured, his voice dark and full of intention, "Did you enjoy what you heard?" His fingers tightened ever so slightly on my waist, as if testing my response, and I couldn't help the small, almost imperceptible nod that escaped my lips.

Nicholas's smirk deepened, and he closed the gap between us, his lips barely grazing mine. His breath was hot and intoxicating, and the world seemed to disappear around us.

“Were you touching yourself?” He questioned, his hand moving down to my hips, my body squirming the moment his finger hooked itself under the band of my underwear.

I closed my eyes, my lips parting at his touch, nodding my head again. My hands clenched behind my back, the urge to touch him overwhelming. But I couldn't seem to move, too caught up in the magnetic pull between us.

Nicholas's thumb traced the outline of my lips again, the action slow and deliberate. His gaze never left mine, and I could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he studied me like I was something he wanted, something he couldn't resist.

His voice was a whisper, low and intoxicating. "You can touch me if you want to." It was a quiet command, but there was an invitation in it.

I hesitated for a moment, but then, as if drawn by an invisible force, my hand slid up his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the soft skin. My fingers traced the lines of his collarbone, skimming down to the waistband of his pants before I pulled away, suddenly embarrassed by the boldness of the move. Nicholas didn't give me time to retreat too much, though. With a gentle but firm grasp, he pulled my hand back to his chest, guiding it lower, urging me to feel the hard planes of his body.

His lips parted slightly as he lowered his head, his breath hot against my ear. “Don't be shy,” he whispered again, his voice thick with desire.

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I let my hand roam over his body, feeling the heat radiating from him. The muscles of his chest were solid under my touch, his skin warm and soft in contrast. My fingertips trailed down to the waistband of his pants again, this time without hesitation. He didn't stop me, didn't pull away. Instead, he let out a low, approving sound, his body shifting closer to mine.

The closeness was dizzying. His scent filled my senses, sharp and intoxicating, and I couldn't help but pull him toward me by his belt loops and lean in, my lips just inches from his.

He took charge, his lips brushing mine softly at first, teasing, testing, until the pressure grew, and I found myself kissing him back without hesitation. The kiss was electric, hungry, full of that same tension that had been building between us for days. His hand slid around my back, pulling me closer, as I tangled my fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss.

My body responded to him, betraying all the resistance l'd tried to put up. I felt his hands everywhere — on my back, on my hips, his hands softly squeezing my ass, pulling me closer as if he couldn't get enough. A groan rumbled low in his throat as his lips moved to my neck, trailing kisses down the curve of my collarbone. I tilted my head back, surrendering to the sensation, every nerve alive, every thought clouded by the pull of him.

His hands slipped under my shirt, sliding along my bare skin, and I gasped at the coolness of his touch against the heat of my body. The intimacy of it all, the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch, how to make me shiver, was overwhelming. But I wasn't the only one lost in this; it was clear from his ragged breathing, from the way his hands shook slightly as they explored my body, that he was just as desperate as I was.

"Everything I did this weekend was to get your attention," Nicholas murmured against my skin. His lips pressed against the curve of my jaw, trailing to my ear, where he nipped at the lobe gently. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you in the stairwell. I can't get enough of you, (Y/N),” his voice rough, almost pleading, “I want you.”

His confession hit me like a tidal wave, and for a second, I couldn't breathe. His words, his desire, everything he was feeling was laid bare before me, and I couldn't deny that I wanted him just as much.

"I want you, too, Nicholas," I whispered, my voice barely audible, but the raw honesty behind it made his body freeze. His hands paused where they rested on my back, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, as if he was trying to read my soul.

I, however, didn't hesitate. My hands found the sides of his face, pulling him back toward me as I kissed him fiercely. The kiss became frantic as our bodies collided, desperate, as though we were both starved for this connection. His hands moved quickly, pulling my shirt over my head and discarding it on the floor. I felt the cool air hit my skin, but it did nothing to dampen the fire building inside me.

I couldn't pull away. My body, my mind, all of it was consumed by him. His lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing lightly over the sensitive skin of my collarbone as his hands roamed lower, finding the waistband of my underwear again. I gasped as he gently tugged them down, his fingers brushing against my skin with an intimacy that made me tremble.

Nicholas was steady in his movements, never rushing, always making sure I was with him, always checking, always asking if I was okay with everything. But there was a fire in his eyes, a need that mirrored mine, a hunger that couldn't be ignored.

"I want to make you feel good," he whispered against my skin, his voice thick with desire. All I could do was nod my head at his statement, ready to give myself to him.

He wasted no time, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around him, hooking them behind his lower back. The feeling of his jeans grazing my bare center was enough to trigger a quiet mewl out of me. Nicholas groaned at the sound, his lips crashing back onto mine as he carried me toward the bed. When my back hit the soft mattress, I felt the weight of him settle over me, his hands bracing either side of my head.

His gaze bore into mine, his chest rising and falling heavily as he paused, his face hovering just inches above mine. For a moment, everything stilled, the only sound was the rhythmic beat of our breaths mingling in the air between us. As he settled down in the space next to me, propping himself up by the elbow, his free hand reached up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. The both of us laid there, face to face.

His lips parted as if to say something but no words escaped his lips, the hand on my cheek slowly making its way down, down. It lingered, at first, over my sensitive breast, tracing slow circles around my nipple. I bit my lip at the sensation, digging my head into his chest as I quietly moaned.

Nicholas quietly giggled, amused to see me squirming under him, as he slithered his supporting arm behind my head and pulled me closer to him. His lips rested on my forehead as he slid his hand further down, enveloping my center. “God, you’re soaking,” he whispered; I could feel his smirk against my skin.

His fingers massaged my throbbing bud, then slipped his fingers into me, his touch deft and confident. I loudly gasped and clutched at his arm, arching into him. “Oh, fuck,” I quietly breathed, nibbling on my bottom lip to bite back my moans.

He smiled, “Don’t hold yourself back. Be as loud as you want,” he whispered as his fingers continued to coax me, his thumb massaging my clit.

Digging my nails into his shoulder, my chest violently rising and falling as he pumped his fingers, I shook my head. “Somebody’s gonna hear,” I stammered out through my labored breathing.

“So?” He questioned, slipping a third finger in. Nicholas's confidence was maddening, his tone both teasing and commanding, making it impossible to resist him. “Let them hear how good I make you feel," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple.

My body arched involuntarily, my head falling back into the pillow as a moan escaped me despite my best efforts to stifle it. Nicholas was not having it. He quickened his pace, quickly slipping in and out with ease, as his thumb continued to circle around my clit. His lips kissed at my neck, his tongue licking my skin before gently sucking. I turned my head, my hand clutching at the back of his hair as I passionately made out with him, softly moaning between kisses.

I was unraveling beneath him, my body trembling as the heat coiled tighter and tighter in my core. My moans slowly became louder and louder, filling the room, and I knew there was no hiding how he was making me feel. The pleasure that I was feeling was so great that I couldn’t focus on kissing Nicholas anymore. I had to pull my head away, glancing down at his hand pumping in and out of me before shutting my eyes and burying my head into his chest again. I could barely find the strength to call out to him, my voice faltering as I moaned out, “Nic…”

"That's it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl. "Say my name, baby,” his fingers reshaping themselves inside me to reach further

My breathing became erratic hearing him call me baby, my nails raking across his shoulder as I clung to him, "Nicholas," I cried, louder this time, no longer caring who might hear.

The sound of my voice seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more precise, more relentless. His words, his touch, the heat of his body — it was all too much. "It’s ok; I’ve got you," he murmured against my neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along my skin. His gaze locking with mine, his fingers never faltering.

His words were my undoing. I shattered around him, my body arching as a wave of pleasure crashed over me, pulling me under. My cries of ecstasy filled the room, and I clung to Nicholas like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. He held me through it, his embrace steady and reassuring as I rode out the high while his fingers continued to coax every pleasure out of me, slowing to a stop.

When I finally came down, my body limped against his, Nicholas pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his hand leaving my core and coming up to his lips. I watched in awe as he licked at his fingers, wrapping his lips around them as he savored every trace of me with a deliberate slowness that made my breath hitch. His eyes never left mine, their intensity sending a shiver down my spine. I buried my face against his shoulder, my breathing still uneven.

He brushed away the damp hair from my face with the back of his pinky, “You taste even better than I imagined,” he spoke softly, his voice velvety.

The weight of his gaze was almost too much, but when I looked into his brown eyes, all I saw was warmth, tenderness, and something deeper that made my stomach ache. My stomach wasn’t the only thing aching, either. The entirety of me did — my hands, my core, my soul. I ached for him.

Desperate to have him at the end of my fingertips, I trailed my hands across his chest, settling on the nape of his neck as I captured his lips in a kiss. Nicholas replied with a soft groan, his hand finding my waist and his fingers delicately digging into my skin. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling as I pulled him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me. My hands wandered, exploring the contours of his back, his muscles taut under my fingertips.

I pulled my lips away, pressing my forehead against his, “I hope you’re not done with me yet,” I whispered.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, “Far from it.”

He cradled my head in his hand, angling it slightly as his lips moved with mine, urgent yet tender. Nicholas shifted his weight, moving slightly up on the bed, grabbing me by my hips and rolling himself over on the bed as he pulled me on top of him.

My legs straddled his hips, my bare skin brushing against the rough denim of his jeans. The friction sent a jolt through me, and I bit my lip, my eyes locking with his. His hands slid up my thighs, gripping them firmly as if grounding himself in the moment. His gaze roamed over me with unrestrained hunger, making my skin flush under his scrutiny.

His hands continued their slow exploration, sliding up to rest on my waist. "I could look at you like this forever."

His words sent a thrill through me, and I couldn't help but smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. He met me halfway, his hands tightening their grip as he deepened the kiss. I let my hands roam, tracing the lines of his chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength beneath my fingertips. His muscles flexed as he moved beneath me, his hands sliding up to cradle my back, holding me close.

My hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, and Nicholas groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as his eyes fluttered shut. His reaction ignited something in me, a newfound confidence that made me bold. I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, "Tell me what you want, Nicholas."

His hands gripped my waist tighter, guiding my movements as he let out a low growl. "I want you," he said, his voice rough with desire.

The intensity of his words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't hold back the smile that spread across my face. Leaning down, I kissed him again, pouring every ounce of my own desire into it. My hands tangled in his hair as our lips moved together, our breaths mingling as the space between us disappeared entirely.

Nicholas's hands slid down to my ass, his touch firm yet gentle as he guided me to move against him. The friction between us was electric, each movement sending waves of pleasure through me. His lips left mine to trail down my neck, his teeth grazing over my skin in a way that made me gasp.

"You drive me crazy, (Y/N)," he murmured against my collarbone, his voice raw, “you know that?"

I smiled, my hands bracing against his chest as I moved against him, my confidence growing with every reaction I drew from him. "I do now," I replied, my voice breathless.

Nicholas groaned, his hand digging into my skin as he bucked his hips upward, meeting my movements. His control was slipping, and I could feel it in the way his grip tightened, the way his breathing grew ragged. I continued to grind against him, trying to coax out the whimpers I had heard escape his lips when I was listening through the wall.

Nicholas's hands slid up my back, his fingers tracing along my spine as he tried to steady himself. His head fell back, his eyebrows tied together as his lips parted in a quiet moan that sent a rush of heat through me. But it wasn’t enough. I brushed my thumb against his bottom lip, slowing to a stop so he could feel the loss, teasing him with the occasional grind, “I want to hear you, Nic.”

He nodded his head, pressing me down against him as he bucked his hips upward repeatedly, desperate for me to continue. “Please, (Y/N),” he shut his eyes closed as he ground himself against me, quietly whining.

Smirkingly, I obliged, slowly continuing to grind against him. I rested my palms on his tense chest, bringing them down to the waistband of his jeans. His fingers curled into my thighs the faster I worked, moaning louder and louder.

“Fuck, I can’t—“ he threw his head back, raggedly moaning.

Looking at him in such a vulnerable state underneath me after days of having to deal with his cocky confidence, it made my blood rush. I played with the button of his jeans, undoing them and shimmying his pants and boxers off just enough for his hard length to free itself under me. I spit my hand, gently stroking him as I positioned his member at my entrance.

Nicholas let out a guttural groan, his hands gripping me firmly as I hovered over him, teasing him with my slow movements. I lowered myself onto him, taking him in inch by inch, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure coursing through my body. A sharp gasp escaped my lips, and Nicholas’s eyes rolled back, his head falling back onto the pillow again. The connection between us was electric, every movement, every sound amplifying the intensity of the moment. Nicholas's hands roamed over my body, his touch both tender and possessive.

As I rode him, I grabbed Nicholas’s hands, leading them to my chest. Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he understood what I wanted, beginning to knead and pinch at my breasts. I moaned at his touch, bringing one hand of his up to my lips to kiss his fingertips before placing it back on my breast.

Suddenly, I felt him tense under me, arching his back toward me, "Don't stop," he pleaded, his voice becoming an octave higher, his grip on me tightening. "Please, baby, don't stop.”

I didn't. I couldn't. The rhythm between us was intoxicating, building to something that felt almost otherworldly. My name fell from his lips like a prayer, and the sound sent a surge of pleasure through me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

Nicholas's hands fell to my hips, guiding my movements as his breathing grew erratic. "I'm close," he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and pleasure.

I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, “Come for me, Nic." My words seemed to break the last of his restraint, and his hips bucked up into me with an urgency that sent shockwaves through my entire body.

“Fuck, (Y/N), I —“ His words cut off as a guttural groan escaped him, his body arching beneath me as he came. The intensity of his release sent me spiraling over the edge with him, my body trembling as the product of his pleasure filled me completely, some of the creamy liquid slowly dripping out me.

The aftershocks of our climax left us both trembling, our breaths mingling as we tried to regain control of ourselves. I collapsed onto Nicholas's chest, his arms immediately wrapping around me, holding me close as though he couldn't bear the thought of letting go.

For a while, we just lay there, our bodies pressed together, hearts pounding in unison. His fingers traced lazy patterns along my spine, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath me, the steady rhythm lulling me into a serene haze.

He caught his breath, “That was….” a hint of a chuckle at the end of his words, “That was fucking incredible,” he said as he kissed the top of my head.

I pulled myself off of Nicholas, lying down next to him and covering myself with the bed sheets. I thought about what he had said earlier at the beach — I may not give in easily, but when I do, I give in completely. It felt nice to finally be seen by someone who could understand me even after only knowing me for a few days compared to other people who have known me for years and still manage to get things wrong about me.

I rolled over to face Nicholas, my hand finding his. He smiled softly, intertwining his fingers with mine and kissing the back of my hand. A smile curled at the end of my lips seeing him so affectionate, “When do you check out of the hotel?” I asked, playing with his hand.

“In the morning. You?” He asked, caressing my cheek with his other hand.

“In the morning,” I replied, my eyes flickering up at him to see his reaction.

He was quiet, not saying anything at first, however, he rolled me over and pulled me closer to him, spooning me and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “We’ll have tonight, then,” he whispered, wrapping his heavy arm around my waist and nuzzling his head into the pillow.

My chest tightened at his words, and I couldn't help but smile softly. I rested my hand above his, intertwining our fingers. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep to the sound of Nicholas’s soft, rhythmic breathing.

A few hours later, which felt like minutes, I stirred awake to the soft light filtering through the curtains. The remnants of the previous night were scattered around — my shirt and underwear and his jeans and boxers strewn carelessly across the floor, the faint scent of Nicholas's cologne mingling with the crisp hotel room air.

The weight of his big, beefy arm draped over my waist anchored me in place. For a moment, I stayed still, savoring the warmth of his body against mine and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek before I rotated in place so I could admire Nicholas as he rested.

We were so close that I could count the beauty marks on his face. There was one on his cheek and another on his chin. His lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones, his lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply. I softly grazed my fingers over the scar on his forehead, wondering how he might’ve gotten it, though I’m not sure if I’d ever find out. He looked peaceful, vulnerable even, and the sight tugged at something deep within me.

I let my fingers trail lightly over his chest, tracing the faint outlines of the muscles that had pressed against me so urgently just hours ago. He stirred slightly, a low hum escaping his throat as his arm tightened around me instinctively.

His eyes fluttered open, landing on me before he closed them again for a few seconds, “Morning,” he murmured, smiling, his voice thick and husky from sleep. He opened his eyes again, gazing at me longingly.

"Morning," I whispered back, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze despite everything we had shared. His hand slid up my back, his fingers tangling in my hair as he leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss.

“Are we staying in?” he asked, shifting his body to face me.

I smiled, running a hand through his messy bedhead. "Oh, I wish," I admitted, my cheeks flushing as the memories of the night before flooded back, "but we have to check out.”

Nicholas groaned, his forehead pressing gently against mine. “Don’t remind me,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “We should get some breakfast together before we leave.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, pushing myself up and sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching my arms. I let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of the moment settle on me. The night had been incredible, but the thought of leaving was already filling me with an unexpected ache. “Breakfast sounds perfect,” I said softly, faking a small yawn.

Nicholas and I didn’t waste any time. I changed into a clean set of clothes and packed up my things, my body slowly waking up the more I walked back and forth in the room. Nicholas put on his boxers and jeans and retreated to his room for a bit, quickly throwing all his stuff into a backpack before coming back to my room and helping me carry my bags to the car.

I think I was too somber to say anything, knowing if I did, that a “goodbye” might be attached to the end of whatever I say.

The silence between us felt heavy but not uncomfortable as we made our way to the café, our movements synchronized without the need for words.

As we entered, the delicious smell of freshly-baked pastries beckoned to us. The morning sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting soft rays across the inside. The sound of light chatter and the occasional clinking of cups and forks against the ceramic plates filled the air, but it all felt distant compared to the warmth between Nicholas and me.

He slithered his hand into mine as he led us to the register, politely smiling to the worker. He ordered his meal, a coffee and a Belgian waffle. I was about to order for myself when he interrupted. “She’ll have the Italian crème croissant and a pot of green tea, please.”

I couldn’t help but smile. That first morning in the café, I could’ve sworn Nicholas was so focused on his book that he didn’t realize what was going on around him; I had no idea he was paying attention to me the entire time.

He paid the worker for our food, letting her keep the change, and waked us over to the same table I had sat in both days prior. We sat close, our knees brushing under the table as we picked at our food, the conversation flowing easily despite the unspoken weight of the situation hanging in the air. After some minutes, the worker came over with our food, and we continued to converse while enjoying our breakfast.

Nicholas looked at me, his expression soft but with a hint of something more playful. “So, at what point are you gonna give me your number?” he asked, taking a bite of his waffle.

I paused, chuckling softly as I chewed on my croissant for a moment before meeting his gaze. “What?” I asked confusedly, trying to keep my tone casual, though my heart rate had sped up slightly.

“What, you thought you’d get rid of me so easily?” He took a sip of his coffee, shaking his head and smirking.

I laughed, the sound a little nervous but genuine. “I just didn’t want to assume anything or get my hopes up,” I admitted, giving him a sideways glance. There was a warmth spreading through me that I couldn’t quite place, something between affection and the lingering thrill of uncertainty.

Nicholas’s eyes softened, and he leaned back slightly, his hands wrapped around his cup. “Well, get your hopes up,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “because I don’t plan on letting go of you anytime soon.”

I swallowed, feeling my heart rate quicken at his words. There was something about the way he said it — so casually but with an intensity beneath the surface — that made me realize just how serious he was. And maybe how serious I was about him too.

“Alright, alright,” I said, smiling, trying to shake off the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside me. “Let’s trade phones.”

Nicholas’s smile widened, and he handed me his phone without hesitation, his fingers brushing against mine as we traded devices. I typed my number into the phone app, adding myself as a contact.

“Just remember we’re in different time zones before you decide to call me in the middle of the night,” I joked as I handed his phone back to him.

Nicholas laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made my heart flutter. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket then handing me mine, the screen off. “Though I won’t make any promises I can’t keep.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, but the blush creeping up my neck betrayed me.

We finished our breakfast. Nicholas quietly walked me over to my car. He walked close to me, his hand occasionally brushing against mine before finally capturing it. He leaned casually against the car with his arms crossed. He looked so effortless, so at ease, but there was something in his eyes — a softness, maybe even a hint of reluctance — that made it clear he felt the weight of the moment, too.

We both stood there silently, knowing this was our goodbye. Nicholas uncrossed his arms, stepping closer until he was right in front of me. His fingers tilted my chin up, and he searched my eyes, his brows knitting together slightly as if to say something. However, instead of resorting to words, he inched his face closer and closer until our lips grazed.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both trying to hold on to the fleeting moment. But then, as if we both couldn’t help it, the kiss deepened, more urgent now, the electricity between us undeniable. My hands found their way to his shirt, pulling him closer, while his arms wrapped around me, his fingers pressing into my back as if he wanted to keep me there forever. Though, we pulled away slowly, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. Neither of us spoke immediately, both of us reluctant to break the spell.

Nicholas stepped back, “How about next time you have a free weekend you treat yourself to a trip to LA and come visit me?”

My heart skipped a beat at his words, the weight of his offer sinking in. I couldn’t tell if it was the sudden openness of his invitation or the quiet sincerity in his voice that made it feel so real. It wasn’t just a passing comment; it was an open door between us.

“I’d like that,” I said softly, surprised by how easily the words came out.

He smiled, his expression softening. “Good.” He reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering as his eyes locked onto mine.

I wanted to say more — something that could make this moment last longer, something to ease the ache already starting to form in my chest. But the words didn’t come, and instead, we stood there, wrapped in silence, our connection hanging between us like an unspoken promise.

He gave me one lingering kiss, brief but filled with everything we couldn’t put into words. When we finally pulled away, he looked at me, as if taking one final mental picture of me standing there, before speaking. “I’ll call you.”

I nodded, feeling the flutter of anticipation start to rise inside me. “You better.”

He squeezed my hand gently before opening my car door and slyly rolling down the window, watching me climb inside and closing the door for me. He leaned on the door, softly smiling, “To be continued.”

I couldn’t help but smile and give him one final kiss through the open window so I could savor his taste before starting up the car. He stepped back, hands in his pockets, to give me enough room to back out of the parking space. I slowly reversed out, waving my hand at him and driving out into the street.

The quiet hum of the engine filled the space, but the silence didn’t feel empty. There was something between us, something that went beyond just a weekend. It was more than I’d expected, more than I’d thought I was ready for, but as I drove away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end.

I don’t think I even left the neighborhood before a phone call interrupted my thoughts. My car’s entertainment screen lit up with the contact name in big, bold letters — Room 5.

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I tapped the answer button on the steering wheel. “Hey,” I teased, my voice light and playful, though my chest felt warm at the sight of his contact name lighting up my screen.

“Hey,” Nicholas’s voice came through, smooth and familiar.

It was just the beginning.

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