#and he goes abroad for like a week or two as well!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oddinary4bts · 7 months ago

Text

Chasing Cars | ch 6 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: date anxiety, Sam Hwang, OC had a pothead phase in high school, cursing, probably the worst date of OC's life, alcohol, peach, jungkook is a drunk mess, mentions of throwing up, explicit content: mentions of jungkook and oc having sex

☆word count: 9.6k

☆a/n: in this one, jungkook and OC proceed to be frustrating again :') hope you enjoy haha <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, March 1st

You count the water drops on the vitrine of the restaurant.

One, two, three, though the third joins the second to merge into a single, bigger one.

It’s all you can do to quell your nerves as you’re surrounded by the low chatter of the other patrons in the restaurant. You’re sitting next to the window, looking at the world outside. It’s unusually warm today, and the snow turned into rain earlier, though you know it will ice as soon as the temperature drops again. It feels like déjà-vu, like you’re stepping back to Valentine’s Day, though the company will be different tonight.

You’ve been avoiding Jungkook, and he’s been avoiding you. In truth, you don’t even think you’ve seen him once since last Sunday. He’d come home while you were eating dinner in the kitchen, and he’d walked in, patted your head, and grabbed a glass of water. When he’d stayed, leaning against the counter and looking at you, you’d asked him what he wanted.

He’d only frowned and said you were weird, and that had been that.

To be fair, you know what he wanted. Or at least what he deserved. Apologies, that is, for the way you spoke to him at the bar. But you haven’t been able to give him any. Maybe because it pushed him away, rebuilt the true distance between the two of you as if nothing ever happened. It’s safer that way, especially considering how involved you’d already gotten after just a few days.

Then again, you get why feelings would grow so easily with him. It’s the risk that comes with him, the thrill of doing something you shouldn’t do. As a kid, that same thrill had always made you fall more on the bad side, though you’d always been good in school. But did you have a pothead phase in your last two years of high school? Yes, you did.

Looking at yourself today, you think you made it out of it pretty well after all.

You sigh, glancing at the time on your phone. He’s late. You don’t know why you’re surprised he’s late – Sam Hwang has shown time and time again that he cannot be trusted. And frankly, you don’t know why you’re here.

Why after last week’s shit show and what happened last summer, you still agreed to meet up at a restaurant that’s definitely over your budget.

Another sigh escapes your chest, and you tap your feet under the chair, anxiety spiking through you. You feel foolish and dumb and everything in between, and you’re starting to want to head home when he finally appears outside, heading for the door.

Your heart stops in your chest. As a matter of fact, you think it’s dropped to your ass before Sam makes it to your table, apologizing profusely. He’s dripping water, and you realize he’s walked all the way here.

You do find it in yourself to feel bad for him, just a little bit. Because you’re careful around him, afraid he’ll just hurt you again.

“Sup,” Sam says as he finally sits in front of you, pushing his long hair back. “Shit, it’s cold.”

You grab your scarf, handing it to him. “Put this on, it’ll help.”

He hesitates for a few seconds, holding your gaze as if to make sure this is not a trick, and then he finally takes the scarf. He sighs in contentment as he wraps it around himself, before saying, “Your perfume smells really good.”

You know. You know because Hoseok once told you the same, and so did Jungkook.

“Thanks,” you say, looking down at your glass of water.

There’s an awkward silence, as if Sam is expecting you to say anything else, but you can’t find for the life of yourself anything to say. So you busy yourself with looking through the menu, reining in your wince as you notice just how much out of your budget this restaurant is.

“Long week?” Sam asks as he starts leafing through his own menu, though he keeps a careful eye on you the whole time.

You nod. “Had some lab reports for two classes due tonight,” you tell him. “Managed to get them done but they drained me.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t too bad,” he says, laughing lightly. “You’ve always been a smart ass.”

You purse your lips, cheeks dusting with pink. “Thanks.” You clear your throat, meeting his gaze just long enough to ask, “What about you? How was your week?”

Then your eyes fall back to the comfort of the menu, and you try to figure out if ordering an appetizer for dinner would look bad.

“It was great,” he says. “I didn’t have much to do for classes, so I just chilled. Spent some time with Jake and Soobin.”

You remember them. Jake is the redhead you saw at the bar last week, and Soobin is the third male who completed the friend group last summer. There were three other girls, though you haven’t heard of them since you moved to the city.

“Nice,” you let out, offering him a small smile.

The awkwardness expands tenfold after that, and you choose to order the cheapest meal on the menu. It’s pasta, and you figure you can never go wrong with pasta. After you’ve chosen, you still pretend you’re looking though, trying to escape having to face the heavy silence.

A waitress saves you from it by stopping by the table, asking if you want anything to drink. Sam, with his easy smile and nonchalant attitude, immediately attracts her gaze.

“I’ll have a Guinness,” he says. “And the lady will just have water.”

You freeze. You freeze with your eyes shooting at his pretty features. He looks back at you once the waitress nods, scribbling the order on her pad even though you’d assume it’s something easy to remember.

“What do you mean I’ll only have water?” you say.

Sam laughs. He laughs, as if his choosing for you isn’t paternalistic and so out of date. “I’m sure you wouldn’t drink a beer,” he answers, and it’s almost condescending.

You make an effort of looking around the restaurant, pointedly stopping at a table near you, where the couple is sharing a bottle of wine. “I’m sure we could order wine?” you let out questioningly.

“I don’t like wine,” Sam replies, matter-of-factly.

You widen your gaze, tilting your head to the side. “And that means I can’t order any?”

“Damn, why are you so pressed about this?”

Because this is not Sam. Or if it is, you do not recognize him. He’d charmed you last summer, whisked you off your feet and made you believe in love at first sight. It seems you were blinded, and it’s really hard to find any charm in the man sitting in front of you.

“Never mind,” you say, choosing peace over war.

But in that instant you already make the decision that you will never see him again. You’ll stay for dinner, though, if only because you don’t want to have spent twenty dollars on an Uber for nothing.

When the server comes back with the beer and to take your order, you realize maybe you should have left. Indeed, Sam orders for you again – a salad this time around – while he orders a steak for himself. You have to do everything in yourself not to cringe as he does so, and you keep an empty, plastic smile on your lips as he starts speaking to you about what he’s been up to since last summer.

And he speaks and speaks. That’s something you recognize in him – the way he can speak so much without you having to say anything. It’s like he’s doing a monologue – back then, you’d loved listening to his voice, if only because you liked the musicality of it. Right now, it’s grating on your nerves, and you keep diverting your eyes to the window, hoping there’s some salvation for you on the other side.

Obviously there isn’t any, and if Sam realizes your disinterest, he doesn’t let it show.

You think he’s on his month of December when the food finally arrives, and you’d thank God if you were religious for the respite in Sam’s spiel. Indeed, the silence is most welcomed, and you eat your salad, trying not to think about the pasta you wanted to order.

At least it’s a decent salad, but you’ll know you’ll have to eat something else when you get home.

“And the funniest part,” Sam is saying when you tune back into the conversation, “is that the girl wasn’t even pretty!”

You widen your gaze. “Oh!” is all you’re able to say.

You think you see the couple at the table next to yours sliding their gazes to you, and the girl leans in closer to her partner, saying something. You can only assume that she’s laughing at your expense, and you get it.

You would too, if you were seated next to someone having the worst date of their life.

And it’s strange. So fucking strange, because once you would have given everything to be right here, with Sam Hwang. Now you feel like he’s a stranger, like he didn’t kiss you at the end of the night on that first party as if he’d been waiting for you his whole life.

“But her friend was,” Sam adds, and his fork makes a grating sound as he moves it on his plate. “Sorry,” he mindlessly apologizes.

“No worries,” you let out, with no ounce of emotion in your tone.

Indeed, your social battery ran out while he was on October, and you think now he’s almost caught up to the present. Not that you care – you know you’ll never want to hear about Sam Hwang again as soon as you’re out of this restaurant.

“And you?” he asks, surprising you.

Surprising everyone in the restaurant, you reckon.

“Me?” you say.

“What’s new?”

You let out a small laugh. You can’t help it – it bubbles out of your mouth by itself, and you think it almost sounds a little crazed.

“Nothing much,” you answer. “My classes have been chill, can’t wait to be in med school, and I am starting to have a headache.”

Sam frowns, lips slightly curling in disdain. “Am I boring you?”

You blink once, twice, plastering a fake smile on your lips. “Of course not! I’m happy to know everything that’s happened in your life since you left me alone on the docks last summer.”

You say that at the exact same time the waitress stops next to the table. She gasps, or at least you think she does, and then she clears her throat.

“Would you guys like some dessert?” she asks as she eyes the empty plates in front of you.

“No thank you,” you quickly say before Sam could once more decide for you. “We’ll take the bill.”

He’s shocked. You see it the moment your eyes meet his again. You hope he sees all the ire in your gaze, all the hatred for what he did months ago and for this revelation that he isn’t shit anyway.

“I wanted dessert,” he says once the server is out of sight.

“Well, you can go home and get yourself some,” you drawl. “I’m tired of this.”

“Excuse me?” Sam lets out. “I’m stooping so low for you, and you’re just tired?”

“Seriously?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking last summer but you are an asshole, Sam Hwang.”

“And you’re so much better?” he says, laughing bitterly. “You’ve been looking outside this whole time as if you’d rather be anywhere but here. You’re the one that was begging me to hang out.”

You snort. “Oh, did I now?” you say. “I think I remember you asking for a date.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “I’m done here.”

You watch him get up, not surprised in the slightest as he throws your scarf at you, and then you watch him leave. He knocks his chair down when he grabs his coat from the back of it, and every pair of eyes in the restaurant turns towards you at the commotion. You just remain seated, trying to not explode, lips stretched into a thin line.

When Sam is out of the restaurant, the girl at the table next to yours leans closer to you. “I was about to tell him to fuck off for you, girl,” she says, and it makes you laugh.

“Man, to think I once had feelings for that douche?” you reply.

She chuckles. “He’s just red flags, run while you still can.”

You look at his chair on the floor, wincing. “Highly doubt he’ll ever approach me again.”

“And I say good riddance.”

You laugh along with her and her partner, and then you get up to right the chair, if only to busy yourself. Because your hands are trembling – you’re not good with public scenes like the one that just unfolded, no matter how friendly the people around you are. So you’re relieved when the waitress comes back, though the price on the bill seems to be laughing at you.

You still pay, cringing at the hole it’ll make in your budget, and then you wish a good evening to the girl and her partner, before heading towards the door, putting your coat on on the way. You stay in the lobby as you order your Uber, and you go through the Instagram stories as you wait.

Jungkook’s story is fourth, and you wince as you notice he posted it less than a minute ago. It’s nothing much though, just a picture of a table filled with beers, and you’re about to skip when something catches your eyes.

It is indeed a table filled with beers. A very familiar table, and you think you’ll murder Jungkook.

You slide in his dms as you slowly feel anger rising in you.

[08:57 pm] You: when were u going to tell me ure hosting smthg at the apt tonight?

Jungkook doesn’t reply. As a matter of fact, you don’t even know if he’ll see, and all you can think is that you need to go home and go fast, just to make sure no one breaks anything.

It’s not that you’re against having get-togethers at your apartment. As a matter of fact, you’re hosting something with your friends tomorrow, though you’d planned to tell Jungkook tomorrow morning.

Maybe this is payback for not telling him before. For not apologizing, for pretending that he’s just a stranger even though two weeks ago you were moaning under him.

You push the thoughts away, but they’re like a door you were supposed to pull – they remain unmoving, taking up the whole scene of your mind. They haunt and taunt you all the way home, and you reckon it’s better than to think about Sam Hwang, about the shit-show of the date you just had.

So you cling to the anger rising in you, to the regrets and to the disappointment. Maybe because Jungkook is part of your present, and not your past. Maybe because no matter how much you avoid each other, your paths will always cross.

The Uber drops you right outside the door of your building, and you thank the driver before stepping out into the cold. The rain has relented now, but it’s already started to turn to ice, so you carefully maneuver to the bottom of the stairs leading to your apartment, doing your best not to fall. You’re successful – not like a similar, freezing rain day, and you climb the stairs to the door properly.

You’re not surprised to find the door unlocked.

But you’re definitely surprised when you open the door to the sight of five grown men sitting in your living room, with two pretty girls hanging with them. Though music is playing loud enough to burst your eardrums, everyone’s gaze turns to you, and you stand in the open door with a slightly frightened look on your features.

“Peach!” Jungkook bellows.

If he realizes he’s called you by that pet name in front of everyone he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he jumps to his feet, heading to where you’re standing.

“It’s freezing,” he comments as he stops next to you, pushing the door close.

You immediately smell the alcohol on him, and you cock an eyebrow.

“You’re drunk,” you state.

He flicks your nose. “Astute.”

You don’t know how he manages to use vocabulary like that when he’s drunk. What you do know is that everyone is still staring at you, as if they’re watching the scene unfolding in a movie theatre.

“You didn’t tell me you were hosting something,” you hiss through your teeth, turning away from everyone to focus on Jungkook who’s leaning against the door now.

“Oh, peach,” he lets out. “Sorry. I thought we weren’t on speaking terms.”

Bewildered, you watch as he flashes you one of his iconic grins, the one that makes him look like a bunny, and then he heads back to where he was sprawled on the floor. Right next to one of the girls.

The other girl you know, and she’s currently leaning against her boyfriend. She offers you a bright smile when your gazes meet, waving hi.

“Hey,” you reply as you take off your boots and coat. You put the latter in the closet, before turning towards the living room again.

The group seems to have moved on to something else, and you watch as Jungkook laughs, eyes crinkling with happiness. You don’t think you’re ready for what it does to your lungs – it sucks the breath right out of them, and you quickly leave to head to your room.

You pitstop by the kitchen first, trying to see if there’s anything to eat in the fridge. You fall on some leftover noodles that are undoubtedly Jungkook’s. You snatch them from where they are, thinking it’s a good revenge for him hosting people over without telling you. They’re almost done reheating when Sera walks into the kitchen, and she beams once more at the sight of you.

“Y/n!” she says. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You offer her a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, since Tae left, you guys don’t usually come over.”

And it’s true. Except for Jimin, you haven’t seen the rest of Taehyung’s friend group since he left at the beginning of January.

“It was Jimin’s idea,” she says as she heads to the fridge. She fishes a lemonade from the top shelf, before carefully closing the door again. “We facetimed Tae earlier.”

You nod. “Awesome. How is he?”

“You guys don’t speak?” she asks, and she genuinely sounds concerned.

You shrug your shoulders because you do speak. But ever since what happened with Jungkook, you’ve found it hard to truly speak to Taehyung, to pretend that you didn’t fuck his best friend, so you’ve been trying to avoid him as much as possible.

Though it might be slightly suspicious, Taehyung hasn’t caught up to it yet.

“We do,” you say, chuckling. “Just not that often.”

She hums. “Oh well. Do you want to join us?” she asks, motioning over her shoulder. “JK said you make for a good Kim substitute.”

You snort, unsure of what you just heard. “What?”

She smiles secretively. “You know what I mean.”

Your gaze widens, and the microwave beeps, startling you. You pull your noodles out of it, wincing at how warm the bowl is. You drop it on the counter, before turning towards Sera again. “As a matter of fact, I actually have no clue what you mean.”

She bursts out laughing, that clear crystalline laugh you have no doubt ensnared Jimin when they met years ago.

“Jungkook just said that you guys hung out during the power outage and that you were chill.”

You wonder if you’ll have to murder him. You reckon you might, and your heart squeezes in your chest as you hope no one actually understood what he meant by that.

“He’s right,” Sera adds. “Each time you’ve hung out with us I’ve always found you fun.”

“Oh,” you let out, and you try to smile, try to act as if you didn’t turn entirely white at her words.

“So come eat with us!”

And then she’s waltzing out of the kitchen, and you wonder if you should just jump out of the window. Avoiding Jungkook seems like the only viable option, especially when you step out of the kitchen, noodles in hand, to the sight of him with his head in the lap of the other girl. She’s running her hands through his hair while he plays on the Switch, and your heart squeezes uncomfortably.

Unfortunately, Jungkook catches sight of you, and he awkwardly sits up.

“Come here!” he tells you, and everyone’s head once again turns to you. “Wait, are those my noodles?”

You glance down at the bowl in your hands. “Maybe.”

“Stop stealing my food,” he complains, and he gets up, handing his controller to the girl.

You’re keenly aware of the way her gaze slightly narrows on you as Jungkook makes his way to you. He makes to grab the bowl from your hands, and you turn away from him.

“Nu-uh,” you say. “They’re mine now.”

Jungkook groans. “No.”

And then he wraps an arm around your waist, skillfully stealing the bowl from your hands and raising it over your head. He lets out a victorious cry, and his arm tightens around your waist when you try to reach up.

“If you like my food so bad, just ask me to cook some for you,” Jungkook says, looking down at you.

He’s close. Dangerously close, especially under the eyes of his friends. Of that girl he was all cuddled up with just a few seconds ago.

“What are you doing?” you say through your teeth.

He dumbly smiles, before winking at you. “Making sure you don’t eat the noodles I know I’ll need tomorrow morning for the hangover.”

“Just don’t drink too much.”

His eyes trail to the coffee table. “I think it’s a little too late for that.”

And you know it is. He smells like it, like he’s had too many beers. You wonder how he can look sober even though he drank so much – if you were him, you’d be making a fool out of yourself by now.

“Please, Jungkook,” you say after a few seconds of tense silence, of your eyes getting lost in the enormity of his gaze.

He frowns, and his arm lowers from where he’s holding the noodles up. “What’s wrong?”

You gulp. “I just had a shit date, and I’m still hungry. I just want to eat something.”

He takes a step away from you, handing you the bowl as his frown deepens. He cocks his head to the side, questioningly, and then folds his arms on his chest.

You do your best not to avert your gaze to the muscles on his arms, instead letting your eyes fall to the bowl of noodles.

“Who did you go on a date with?” he asks.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Please tell me it’s not the guy from last week.”

You shut your eyes, sighing deeply. “Jungkook, it’s none of your business.”

“He’s an asshole,” he lets out, a little louder than necessary. “Why would you go out with him?”

You grit your teeth, before meeting Jungkook’s gaze again. “Because we have history. But I promise you that after the shit date we just had, I’ll never see him again. Happy?”

He looks anything but happy, yet he still says, “Yeah.”

“Now, can I go eat in my room while you guys do whatever it is that you’ve been doing?”

You make the mistake of looking at the group in the living room, and you hate that they all quickly look away, pretending that they weren’t watching.

“Why don’t you stay with us?” Jungkook suggests. “To cheer you up.”

You settle your gaze back on him, and he really looks like he wants to cheer you up. He’s pouting slightly, a small crease between his brows as he looks at you intently. There’s a light in his eyes that you don’t want to interpret, not when you hear the echoes of him telling you that you would just pretend nothing ever happened.

Are you weak for being unable to tell him no? Maybe. But you’ll have plenty of time for regrets later.

“Okay,” you let out. “But you should chill on the alcohol, you reek of it.”

He narrows his gaze at you. “Here’s to trying to be nice to you, huh?”

You chuckle, mimicking his expression. “Poor you.”

“You steal my food and then sass me?” he says, tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek. It attracts your gaze to his mouth, and your heart once again squeezes, though this time it doesn’t hurt.

No, this time it makes blush spread on your cheeks, and you feel like you’re starting to burn under his gaze.

“You deserve it,” you declare, and then you’re walking around him to head to the living room.

He jogs to catch up to you, and once more grabs the bowl from your hands. It almost falls to the floor, but he effortlessly saves the noodles, and then motions with his elbow to the coffee table.

“Jae, clear the table please,” Jungkook says.

The guy – Jaehyun, you think? – obeys, though he grumbles the whole time. The unknown girl ends up helping him, and a few seconds later you’re seated in front of the coffee table, with Jungkook next to you. He sits so close you feel his thigh against yours, though he leans back into the couch, attention shifting to the TV, where Jimin and Eunwoo are playing a riveting game of Smash.

Everyone seems to forget that you’re there, and so you eat the noodles, trying your best not to think about Jungkook next to you. About the way you could easily cuddle in his side with a slight shift towards him…

Treacherous little thoughts. You don’t let them live in your head for longer than a few seconds, perhaps because the spice from the noodles overtakes everything. You wince, glancing at Jungkook, who catches your gaze, light dancing behind his pupils.

“You okay?” he asks as your cheeks burn.

“I forgot how spicy you like your food.”

He grins as you fan yourself. “You’ll get used to it. We just have to build up your tolerance.”

Then he does something incredibly stupid. You think his friends will notice, but they all erupt in cheers as they watch the TV, and Jimin slams Eunwoo’s character off the platform.

Jungkook’s large hand lands on your upper thigh. You’d say it’s possessive if you could produce any thoughts, but your brain zeroes in on the spot where he touches you, and you look down. He seems to realize it at the same time as you, and he quickly moves his hand away, frowning slightly.

He’s cute like this. Lips jutting out in a pout, a crease between his brows, confusion swirling in his gaze. Like he didn’t mean to touch you like that, the act done out of instinct.

We just pretend nothing happened, no?

His words clang through your mind, and you turn away from him. Eyes falling on the noodles, and you take a shuddering breath in. Your memories provide you with images of you and Jungkook, alone in this living room. Of an attraction that was inevitable, yet now it tastes bitter.

You’d like to be angry with him. For being so casual about everything, for wanting this over whatever secretive relationship you could have shared with him before Taehyung comes back. Maybe you’re stupid for wanting anything – the longer it would last, the more it would hurt. But as you force yourself to eat the food he cooked, you think the spice on your tongue isn’t really what’s hurting.

No, it’s your heart in your chest. It beats achingly, even more so as Jungkook ends up moving away from you, as if realizing through his drunken haze that he shouldn’t sit so close to you. That even if you tried to be friends, just friends, he’s already fucked you like there was no tomorrow. And during the power outage, it truly felt like there wasn’t any. Like you could just stay in that bubble outside of time.

When Jungkook ends up lying back with his head in that girl’s lap – Lisa, you now know – you pretend like you don’t wish it was you, running your fingers through his hair. You pretend like he’s not there, yet you see him in the periphery of your vision. You hear his laugh, know he smiles, and you wonder, is he just pretending?

Or is he attracted to that girl? You wouldn’t blame him. She matches his doe eyes, pretty features always hinting at a smile. She’s attractive, and you quickly understand that she is Sera’s best friend. Or at least it seems so, because she’s comfortable with the boys, and even more so with Jungkook.

You wouldn’t be surprised if they have history. Or if Jungkook is planning to get with her – hell, if you were a guy, you reckon she’d be the type of girl you’d want to get with.

Yet it hurts. It burns, and you find it hard to focus on the television. Even more so to participate in the conversation, and if someone notices, no one says anything. Perhaps because these are not your friends – no matter how friendly they might get, you’ll always be Taehyung’s little sister to them.

You’ll always be Taehyung’s little sister to Jungkook.

“Hey, do you want something to drink?” Jaehyun says, shaking you out of your thoughts.

You’re done eating by now, and you just turn to look at him, a startled look on your features. He chuckles at the sight, and you feel your cheeks burning.

“No, all good,” you tell him.

“Careful,” Jungkook says from behind you. “Tae’ll kill you if you speak to her.”

Now, Jungkook’s speech is definitely slurred. He’s drunk – you were aware of it before, but you hadn’t realized just how much. Indeed, when you turn to look at him, you know the bitter expression on his features is one he usually hides behind a mask.

Just like that you know that he indeed does care, in the weird, twisted way that Jeon Jungkook can care. It reassures you somehow, but also breaks your heart.

He was there, during the power outage. Did he, too, use it as a way to escape reality? Is he, too, regretting having to go back to normal?

You like to tell yourself that he does.

“Bruh,” Jaehyun lets out, and Jungkook quickly composes his features, offering a bland smile to his friend.

The others just keep speaking about whatever it is that they’re speaking of now, but you can tell Jungkook is upset. You don’t think it’s jealousy because of Jaehyun – he’s haunted, just like you.

He stays upset for a while. Drinking in silence, sitting up when Lisa says something to him and him only. She looks disappointed, and her eyes dart to you for a millisecond before she looks away. If she wants to blame you for Jungkook not wanting to cuddle with her anymore, then so be it.

Because you like that she’s not running her fingers through his hair anymore. Like that he sits between the two of you, and you imagine he’s just a little closer to you than he is to her. You’d want him to be – it’s a dangerous thought, much like all of your thoughts when it comes to Jeon Jungkook.

When Eunwoo suggests doing shots, Jungkook plasters a smile on his lips. You see it for the mask that it is, yet you don’t mention it. You long to reach between you and him, to smooth the lines on his brow away, but you don’t do anything. You accept the shot that’s handed to you, and a few minutes later, you let it burn down your throat.

After that, you decide to grab something to drink, only so that Jungkook won’t have to feel alone. Though you highly doubt he’ll realize the silent support that you offer him.

While you’re still in the kitchen, Lisa walks in, a pretty smile lighting up her equally pretty features. You freeze by the fridge, and she moves closer to you, casually saying, “Hey, how are you?”

You offer her a tight-lipped smile. “I’m okay. You… want anything to drink?”

She looks down at the lemonade you’ve gotten for yourself, nodding once. You hand it to her, and it takes her a few seconds before she grabs it, awkwardness lingering in the air. You take another one for yourself, and then you face her again, hoping she’ll be gone.

She hasn’t moved an inch. As a matter of fact, she’s looking at you pensively, nose slightly scrunched.

“You’re Taehyung’s sister?”

The question takes you aback. You widen your gaze, struck like lightning just hit, and your mouth falls open. You think you must look stupid, so you clear your throat, trying to escape the awkwardness.

“I am,” you reply. “You are?”

“Lisa! Sera’s friend,” she supplies, and she offers you a nice smile. “Something happened between you and Jungkook?”

Straight to the point, then. You’d expected her to circle around the pot, never really fully digging in, but she’s straightforward. You can only admire her for it, even though your heart starts hammering in your chest.

“What do you mean?”

She purses her lips, before chuckling. “Sorry, you probably think I’m crazy.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just remain silent, trying to figure out how to escape the situation. She notices your unease, and she winces.

“Yeah, sorry, I definitely made things awkward,” she says. “It’s just…”

“Peaaaach,” Jungkook yells from the door to the kitchen, and both you and Lisa startle. You meet his gaze over her shoulder, and he frowns, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you guys doing?”

Lisa turns towards him. “Just talking.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow. “Well then, why don’t you come just talk with everyone else?”

You stifle a laugh, right as Lisa glances at you over her shoulder. You offer her a tight-lipped smile, and then she shrugs, before walking away.

Jungkook moves out of the way to let her pass, and then he walks in, heading towards where you’re still standing next to the fridge.

“I’m…” he trails off, and he stumbles a little when he stops next to you. “I’m fucking drunk.”

You hear it in his speech. “You want water?”

“Water?” He narrows his eyes, shaking his head slowly. “No, I want beer.”

“Jungkook,” you scold. “You don’t look like you should be drinking more.”

He snorts, and steps closer to you, towering over you. You tilt your head back, though you don’t budge from where you’re standing, effectively blocking the fridge’s door.

“Move,” he tells you.

“Drink water first.”

He lands a gentle hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him. The sudden motion makes you shriek, and you push on his chest.

“Let me get a beer,” he tells you. He drops his head next to your ear, and his warm breath tickles the side of your face. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

“Listen,” you whisper, and you gulp as his lips ghost on the shell of your ear. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Yet when he does it again, your eyes flutter close, and you angle your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.

“It’s hard to pretend when you look so damn good,” he murmurs. “Always.”

“Jungkook…”

He shakes out of it, taking a step away from you. The sudden absence of contact feels like a cold shower, and you gulp again, this time to swallow the lump that was threatening to form in your throat.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Wow. You’re right. I need water.”

You watch him as he moves to the cupboard, grabbing a glass for himself. He fills it at the sink, and he drinks it all in one go, as if that simple gesture will be enough to sober him up. You highly doubt so, but you’re relieved as he pours himself another glass, this time leaning against the counter to drink it.

“What was that?” you ask him.

He sighs heavily, pulling at his piercings. “I don’t know.”

“You can’t do that,” you tell him. “Especially not when there are people around.”

That second sentence is uttered in a low secretive tone, but evidently he still hears. He shrugs, tongue pushing against his cheek.

“Sorry,” he repeats.

He does look apologetic, if not troubled. Like maybe he lost control of himself for a few seconds, and you see it for what it is – you left your mark on Jeon Jungkook. Because there was desire, in his voice, as he held you close to him. Want, in his half-lidded eyes, like you could just step back into that outer world the power outage consisted of.

But you can’t, and as the sober one, you realize you’ll have to be the one to maintain a safe boundary. No matter how much you hate it.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, and you clear your throat as you open your can. “You just caught me off-guard.”

He smirks lazily. “Liked it?”

The conversation is taking so many 180-degree turns that you feel dizzy, and you shut your eyes, before taking a long swig of the lemonade. It fizzles in your throat, and though it burns you force yourself to drink and swallow.

You only open your eyes to meet Jungkook’s gaze again when half of the can is gone. And you glance towards the door, knowing you’re betraying yourself when you say, “So what if I did?”

“Pretend, peach,” Jungkook says, and it’s almost condescending. “What would your brother say?”

You hate the reminder of Taehyung, but it does the trick. It douses you, and you escape Jungkook’s gaze by focusing on the tiles on the floor.

What would Taehyung say indeed. You wonder if he’d jump into a plane and come back right away. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did, and some part of you believes it might be the only way to keep Jeon Jungkook away from you for the time being. Because without a chaperone around, it’s only bound to happen again.

Especially when he lets his mask of unbothered coolness go. Like he did just a second ago, making your bodily temperature spike. It’s yet to come down, and you take another drink of the lemonade, hoping that it will cool yourself.

“He’d probably say that he’d kill you, right?” you say, reminiscing about what he said to Jaehyun earlier.

“Oh,” Jungkook lets out, and he chuckles. “Definitely. As a matter of fact, I think I’m living on borrowed time now.”

You purse your lips. “So let’s pretend, right? Safer that way.”

He nods. “I really am sorry for that,” he says. “I don’t know where it came from.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him once more. “Just don’t ever do it again.”

“Ever?”

The question is accompanied by a pout, and you hate the way it makes your gut twist. Like butterflies catching flight, treacherous bugs to make you sick to your stomach.

“Stop,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Why are you such a shameless flirt?”

He’s grinning, yet he doesn’t say anything, only shrugging his shoulders and taking a sip of his water.

“What’s up?” Jimin says as he walks into the kitchen. He eyes you and Jungkook, and the safe distance between the two of you, before heading closer. “Is this like a lame roommate-only party the others can’t join?” he jokes, and you step aside to let him access the fridge.

“No,” you answer at the same time as Jungkook.

Jimin snorts. “What’s up with you two?”

“Nothing,” you quickly say, though your cheeks burn.

“Right.” He clearly doesn’t buy it, and he says, “Peach?”

You gulp. “Don’t ask me, he started calling me that last semester because of Mario Kart.”

“She always chooses Princess Peach!” Jungkook quickly adds, and you think perhaps you’re only digging the grave further.

“Last semester?” Jimin asks, and he’s got a knowing smile on his lips. He’s toying with you two, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Yeah.”

Your gaze slides to Jungkook as if he has any support to offer, but you think it’s too late. Strangely, Jimin retreats, shrugging his shoulders.

“Whatever,” he lets out. “Why are you drinking water?”

Jungkook motions to you. “She suggested it. ‘Cause I’m pretty drunk.”

Jimin cocks an eyebrow, sending you a disbelieved look. “He’s been drunker than this, he can handle himself.”

“Why are you trying to get so plastered?” you ask, unable to help yourself.

Jimin purses his lips. “Why not?”

Why not indeed. It seems Jungkook only needed that encouragement to return to drinking, and you watch in horrified awe as he drinks and drinks, downing shots with his friends as soon as you return to the living room.

You’re not surprised he’s struggling to stand on his feet by the time his friends leave. Jimin and Sera linger for longer, Jimin offering you an apology when he realizes the monster he unleashed.

“I told you,” you say, sighing. “Now I’ll sleep to the sounds of him throwing up.”

Jungkook hiccups, raising a finger. “I’ll have you know.” He pauses, shutting his eyes as he sways. “I don’t throw up.”

“Yeah yeah, Jungkook,” Sera answers, and you stifle a laugh as he glares at her.

“Let’s just get you in bed before we leave,” Jimin says.

“And tell Lisa to stop looking at me like that,” Jungkook tells Sera, speech so slurred you’re not quite sure what he said.

It seems his friends also aren’t sure, because Sera says, “What?”

Jungkook looks at you, frowning. “I don’t know.”

“You’re fucked up,” Jimin says, and he starts laughing.

He’s not faring all that better, and he sways on his feet as he clasps Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook loses his balance, but he luckily just falls against the wall, slowly tilting to the side.

“Oh shit.”

All you can do is look at him as he eventually collapses, though he’s laughing the whole time. Jimin follows soon after, and Sera and you just look at them, eyes wide.

“You guys always drink so much?” you ask, directing the question to Sera.

“They do,” she replies, pointing to them. “Believe it or not but Taehyung’s the one that usually gets them not to drink too much.”

You cock an eyebrow in disbelief. “Yeah yeah.”

“I swear!” she insists, laughing that easy laugh of hers. “He only got too drunk that one time last semester.”

“And he threw up in the car,” you reminisce, while the guys do God knows what on the floor. “Hardly see that as a good influence.”

“He’s not,” Jungkook says from the floor, and you look down to see him sprawled on his back, Jimin giggling next to him. “Your brother is an asshole.” He looks serious for a few seconds, and then he bursts out laughing. You just remain silent, and he’s the one to speak next. “Can you help me?”

He does grabby hand motions at you, and you scrunch up your nose as if in disgust. “You can crawl to your room yourself, JK.”

He forces himself to sit up, leaning against the wall, as Jimin does the same next to him. Though Sera folds and helps Jimin after he’s offered her puppy eyes even you wouldn’t have been able to resist either.

“I’ll crawl to your room if you don’t help,” Jungkook threatens.

“Alright, let’s see you try.” The challenge hangs in the air between the two of you, as Sera and Jimin watch the scene unfolding.

Jungkook turns his head in the direction of your room, but then resumes his attention on you. “Too far.”

“Then sleep on the floor.”

“Are you for real?” he asks, and he sounds exasperated.

You groan, rolling your eyes, though you finally step closer to him. “We should have asked your friends…” you trail off looking at Jimin. “Your sober friends to help bring you to your room before they left.”

“Peach, I much prefer if it’s you tucking me in,” Jungkook teases as your hands close around his.

His are clammy, warm, but you ignore it, instead pulling him up. It’s a struggle, Jungkook a dead weight, but soon enough you manage to help him stand. He wobbles on his feet, and you hold onto his arm, trying to steady him.

“I won’t tuck you in,” you say through gritted teeth when he’s finally standing on his own.

You’re about to slide your gaze towards Jimin and Sera when Jungkook cups your cheek, and you think the Earth has stopped revolving around the sound. It stops abruptly, and you’re propelled forward, in those big eyes looking down at you like you’re the only thing in the universe.

You want to hate him. Right now, you want to hate him so bad for telling you to pretend nothing ever happened. Because it’s too natural to lean into his palm, too natural to get lost in his eyes.

How many girls has he ensnared with that sparkly gaze? How many of them have fallen for the trap, only to be abandoned when he’s done playing?

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

He blinks once, slowly, and then turns his head towards Jimin and Sera. Jimin’s mouth is agape, and Sera looks like she’s about to burst out laughing, that knowing glint in her eyes so bright it almost puts Jungkook’s gaze to shame.

“Shit, you’re still here?” Jungkook lets out.

“Not anymore!” Jimin quickly replies, and he tugs Sera towards the door. “We’re leaving. You guys do… whatever it is that you’re doing. We didn’t see anything.”

You move away from Jungkook, and his hand hangs in the air between the two of you for a few seconds before it falls aimlessly at his side. You take a step towards Jimin, calling his name.

He looks at you when he has an arm in the sleeve of his coat, the other one yet to be put on. “Yeah?”

“It’s nothing,” you say, trying to put as much conviction in your tone as you possibly can. “He’s just drunk.”

“Oh.” Jimin laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Sure. I won’t say shit to Taehyung. I like Jungkook’s head on his shoulders.”

You gulp, your throat feeling so dry you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d die. “Who said anything about Taehyung?”

“Isn’t that what you were going to say?” he enquires.

You shoot a look towards Jungkook, who looks like a kid who’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t do. He’s pouting, eyes angled to the floor, and his hands are hidden in his pockets, as if he doesn’t trust them to not touch you right now.

“No?” you let out once you turn back towards Jimin and Sera.

Both of them finally have their coats on, but you think it’s too late. It’s too late – no matter what he says, Jimin will tell Taehyung. He’s a busybody, through and through, and you just know Taehyung’s ought to know by the time the sun rises tomorrow.

You can only hope you’ll be able to weather the storm when it’ll hit.

“I was just going to say…” you start, not really knowing where to head. “Honestly, nothing more than that – he’s just drunk. If you want to tell Taehyung that Jungkook’s handsy when he’s drunk, I don’t think that’ll surprise him.”

Jimin throws you a no-bullshit look, as if he was there during the power outage. As if he saw the way Jungkook held you, and the way he fucked you like it was the end of the world.

“To be fair, Jungkook is handsy all the time,” Sera cuts in. “Did you see how he was sprawled on Lisa earlier?”

You don’t know why she’s throwing you a lifeline. But you remain silent, not wanting to dig the grave deeper, and you just offer a nod and a tight-lipped smile to Jimin. He does look confused for a few seconds until he shakes his head as if trying to clear his thoughts.

“Whatever,” he eventually says. “I’m way too drunk for this shit anyway.”

And then he’s turning around, opening the door to step outside. Sera watches him go fondly, before turning towards you again.

“Sorry about that,” she apologizes on behalf of her boyfriend. “He really is drunk.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her as you walk to the door. You hug her goodbye, before holding the door open for her. “I’ll see you guys around.”

“See you!” Jimin yells from the bottom of the stairs, and you wince hoping you won’t get a noise complaint.

“Shut up,” Sera hisses through her teeth, and Jimin throws an apologetic look in your direction before his girlfriend grabs his arm, forcing him to follow her as she walks away.

You look at them for a few seconds before shutting the door behind you, and it takes you a moment to gather the courage to face Jungkook again. A moment of you looking at some chipped paint on the door, wondering how it is that the stars aligned to put you in such a compromising position with your brother’s best friend.

How is it that he had to seduce you, only to walk away like nothing happened after? It makes your blood boil in your veins, and you turn around with ire in your gaze, directed at the man leaning against the wall.

He’s still staring at the floor, his features blank. You wonder what’s going on in that thick head of his. Is he regretting this? Is he realizing that no amount of pretending will ever be enough to cover the fact that you did the irreparable, together?

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you ask him, venom dripping from your voice.

He looks startled, big eyes going wide as saucers as he meets your gaze. “What?”

“Now Jimin’s going to be onto us!” You vaguely motion behind you, before folding your arms on your chest. “I know you’re drunk, but you’ve got to fucking control yourself.”

“Hey, fucking chill out, will you?”

You see red. You see blood red, like a bull and its red flag, and you cross the distance between you and him. He waits for you, lips spreading in a lazy smirk as he leans his head against the wall, only so that he can look down his nose at you. You stop right in front of him, finger pointed towards his features.

“Don’t tell me to fucking chill.”

“Or what?” He tilts his head to the side, the perfect picture of arrogance.

“Or I don’t know, Jungkook,” you drawl, shutting your eyes in annoyance. “Don’t you care that Taehyung might be onto us because of Jimin?”

He huffs a breath, and you open your eyes to glare at him. His tongue toys with his piercing, before pushing on the inside of his cheek.

“He won’t be,” Jungkook affirms like it’s the truth to the universe. “Why would he? Because we’re hanging out? Nah, we did that even before he left.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Not like that.”

“Like what?” he pushes.

You sigh, fists clenched so hard they’re leaving moon-crescent indents in your palms. “Like we’re friends. You touching me. All that shit.”

“I thought you like when I’m touching you,” Jungkook says, voice dropping an octave.

You stare at him in disbelief, quite at the same time as your heart starts racing in your chest.

“Shut up.”

He raises his hand in defence. “Sorry. It’s hard to help myself when you’re looking at me like that, peach.”

You try to school your features into neutrality, but you don’t know if it works. Don’t know if he can tell that your blood is rushing to your cheeks, threatening to have the effects of his words show on your face.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me,” he murmurs, and a finger of his finds your clenched fist, tapping gently on it. He doesn’t stop there – his digit slowly moves up your arm, and all you can do is stand, frozen in place. “Like you’re mad I suggested pretending that nothing happened.”

You hate him. You really do. You don’t understand how he’s able to say this shit when he’s drunk, but then again, maybe he’s wanted to say it sober, but his inhibitions were keeping him in check. Now, nothing forms a barrier between his mind and his mouth, and the words come forth to taunt you, tease you.

To make your heart race in your chest as you look up at those big doe eyes.

“I’m not mad,” you insist, swatting his hand away. “I agree with the statement. He’s your friend, he’s my brother. We shouldn’t have fucked at all.”

He nods. “See? I knew you saw the wisdom of it.”

Now, it hurts. It almost hurts enough to cut through the blinding anger in your blood, though you cling to the anger like it’s a buoy. You cling to it like it’s the path to safety, and maybe it is.

Maybe it is, because Jeon Jungkook is danger personified.

So, you roll your eyes, gently patting his chest. “Then stop. Fucking. Touching. Me,” you say, tapping on his chest with every word uttered.

He sucks on his piercing, and you think his gaze has gone darker. It’s clouded with lust, all directed at you. When he looks at you like that, you feel like the rest of the world goes out of focus, like all there is is him.

Which is quite frankly the reason why you need to stay away from him. To never let him approach you again, to never lower your guard with him again. For Taehyung, yes, but also for your heart that’s barely recovered from Sam Hwang.

It’s strange, to think that you started the evening with Sam, only to finish it so close to Jungkook. To finish with so little distance between you and Jeon Jungkook that you fear you might crash in his orbit once more.

“You’re the one touching me right now, peach,” he says, voice so low it almost sounds like a growl.

And you are. You’ve laid your hand flat on his chest, and you can feel the racing of his heart under your palm. You make to move your hand away, but he quickly puts his hand over yours, clammy fingers keeping you close.

“Let me go,” you breathe out.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

His sentence makes you insane. Makes the red spark to life again, and you quickly step away. It’s like you were in a trance – you blink once, twice, and Jungkook appears in all his drunk glory again. He looks at you carefully, the lust fading as he beholds the emotions on your face, the mask you’ve let slip.

“Don’t ever tell me that again,” you warn him.

“Why?”

“Just don’t,” you insist, scoffing. “You can’t kiss me, I can’t kiss you, we-“

Jungkook interrupts you by grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. You’d expected it – you’re the mere comet, and he the star. Though you might have come from Kuiper’s belt, Jungkook has been pulling you in, and there’s no escaping his gravity.

So even though you shouldn’t, you kiss him back. You kiss him back, pushing him back towards the wall. He hits hard, and he huffs out a breath that you swallow as your tongue darts in his mouth. You taste the alcohol on his breath, but more than that you taste him – the inebriating taste of Jeon Jungkook makes your mind spin in no time, and you’re forced to take a step back.

To take a step back and look at his pink lips, now swollen from the kiss. His eyes remain closed, and his breathing is ragged, chest going up and down quickly, much like yours is, too.

“Don’t kiss me again,” you say.

And you walk away. You don’t look at him once before slamming the door to your room shut, hands shaking so hard you think you’ll break. The shaking threatens to take over your whole body, and you almost expect Jungkook to follow you.

He doesn’t. He doesn’t, and the sound of his door softly shutting is like a flatline, haunting you terminally. Like there will be nothing more after that than the memories of his lips on yours, of his hands tracing the curves of your body.

Though it might be sad, though every inch of your body is craving for his touch, you need to be sane. You need to stop before you both get in too deep. Because, even though you could have him now, even though he’s just on the other side of the wall, the moment Taehyung is back, it would have to be over.

You don’t want to get involved with someone that you’re only bound to lose anyway.

You don’t sleep after that, sleep evading you in favour of your spiraling thoughts. You let them carry you like the tornado that they are – you’re in too deep already.

What will be left of you when the tornado spits you out?

Prev | Chapter 6.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Ughhhhh they are annoying I love them. What did you guys think? Let me know <3

638 notes · View notes

trustmypoison · 27 days ago

Text

Traveling with SVT

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘While on a trip abroad, svt member and the reader struggle with a language barrier and end up relying on each other to navigate an unexpected adventure…?✨’

So lost - Jun, Woozi, Vernon

You better know how to read a map, because they will not even try. You guys will have a bright idea to go to a certain tourist site and he’ll pull it up on the map and shrug and say ‘okay, I know where it is’ and close the app. He’s assuming everything will be signed well and he can just find it, you know? That might not always be the case, but he might not even recognize how far off the beaten path you guys get sometimes. I don’t think it’s a case of them being too stubborn and manly to use a map or ask for directions, because he will if things get too off the rails, but what better time to get lost in a new city? That’s how you guys will come across some really cool stuff that you just can’t find when you google the city you’re in. The actual tourist sites kind of pale in comparison to your unexpected discoveries when you finally find them.

Google translate is your best friend - Jeonghan, Minghao, Chan

I whole-heartedly believe they did their best to learn a little bit of the language before the trip. They downloaded all the apps, they bought the books, they looked up videos of native speakers to try to nail the pronunciation. I fear all of that will go out the window as soon as you land in this new place. You guys will unmistakably be tourists because of how you struggle to decipher signs in the airport. But!!! He’ll get the bright idea to just pull out google translate when it comes time to get into a taxi or uber to go to your lodgings. That app really gets a workout your whole trip. If you guys need to ask someone something, he’s pulling out his phone. He’s taking pictures of signs to let the app translate it. You guys will think ‘how do I say this in [insert langauge], and the app gets opened right away to find out. Tourists indeed, but it makes your trip all the more rewarding when you manage to navigate for the whole week with a huge language barrier and still have a good time.

Might as well be professional taste-testers - Hoshi, DK, Mingyu

Shrugs at all of the tourist sites or scenery because it’s cool and you wanted to do all of that. But he’s really itching to get to the list of foods he wants to try while he’s here. He’s been compiling it for ages. He knows the basics of how it’s made or what ingredients are used, but he wants to try it. So for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, you let him lead you to his pick. You might even let him order for you, particularly if there are two dishes he really wants to try. If that’s the case, you both will be swapping plates back and forth throughout the meal. He’ll never shut up about the hits and swear you guys will make it when you get home. He knows some of these are going to be misses too because that's just how it goes, but even though he came away from a meal not loving something, he can still go home and say ‘you’ll never guess what I tried on our most recent trip! It was so cool!’

Souvenir shopping everywhere - Seungcheol, Seungkwan

Did you bring an extra suitcase with you? I hope you did. He sees something cool? He’s buying it. You might even be like, ‘honey, we just bought something like this at a shop yesterday, we don’t need this one’, and he’ll say, ‘of course, we need it!’ And then he’ll meticulously point out all of the differences between what you bought yesterday and what he’s about to buy today. Some of these will be gifts for others, for sure, but mostly he wants to bring home reminders of your fun little trip to keep at home. He’ll say, ‘oh, this would look good in the kitchen’, or ‘we should hang this in the living room’. You wouldn’t mind the little reminder either, so of course you agree and let him buy it - along with an extra suitcase if there’s not an empty one for all of these things back at the hotel.

An absolute pro - Joshua, Wonwoo

You narrow your eyes at him the whole time through the airport, in the taxi, and getting settled into the hotel. He spots your expression and gives you a look that says ‘what did I do’, and you’ll cry out, ‘I thought you said you’d never been here before!’ He’ll blink, because he hasn’t. But you’d never know it. He’s borderline fluent and seems to navigate a new country with ease, like he’s downloaded the maps into his brain. He’s so fucking casual about it that within just a few days you resign yourself to him just being like that. There’s not a single moment that he shows any hesitation or confusion - not when the taxi driver asks him a question, not when you ask what’s in the local delicacy you guys ordered for lunch, and not when he can lead you through winding streets to the tourist site you wanted to see like he’s lived here his whole life. An absolute pro that I’d love to travel with!!

153 notes · View notes

jhdyuiee · 2 months ago

Text

before you leave.

★ pairing: husband!jaehyun x fem!reader

★ tags/warnings: fluff, angst (only cause of jaehyun's enlistment :/), smut!, oral (f receiving), eating out, tongue fucking, fingering, sucking, biting, clit play, orgasm, kissing/making out, bald jaehyun, rough jaehyun, they call each other husband & wife

★ w.c: 1.3k

★ a.n: this was a request by a lovely reader! was really eager to get it out, but since i only upload during the weekends i had to leave ya'll waiting ㅠㅠ. anyhow i hope ya'll have a great weekend (my week was shitty & to top it all off i broke my phone's screen haha). i so miss jaehyun like it's abt to be a week but it feels like years! ahh, i'm saying a lot again, i love you & stay safe ya'll! jiji out 🤍

only two days left!

you couldn’t believe it, your husband, jaehyun would enlist very soon. time went by all too quick, one moment it was made public and the next he’s already getting his haircut. you eagerly awaited his arrival, getting a message a while ago from him that he’d be back home in 15 minutes.

you weren’t gonna lie, you were kind of stoked to see him with his buzzcut. however you were also sad, 18 months without seeing your husband everyday felt like torture. you grew attached to jaehyun, the longest you’ve gone without seeing him was when he was abroad on schedules.

“i’m home!” his voice shouts from the door.

you get up, walking over to the doorway. when you reached the doorway, your eyes widened. your hand goes to your mouth, covering it. you were at a loss of words and not in a bad way.

jaehyun rubs his buzzed head, smiling shyly. “how is it? does it suit me?” he asks.

you enthusiastically nod your head, “never grow your hair again.”

jaehyun chuckles at your answer. he turns to the mirror that was next to him, checking himself out. his hands stroking his head, feeling his hair prick him. jaehyun, oblivious to the heat that was creeping you, through you.

you muttered his name breathlessly, capturing his attention. it was then that jaehyun wasn’t so oblivious anymore. he knew that look in your eyes, he knew it all too well. both of you inching a bit more towards the other until lips came crashing with one another.

you moaned when his lips came onto yours, tongue intruding right in. his hands traveling down your back, leaving a burning blaze in their wake until they stopped at the curve of your ass. his grip was possessive, almost as if someone were going to take you away.

you were against the wall being devoured by the predator in front of you. you were lost, feeling euphoric until an obnoxious thought invaded your mind. he’s leaving in two days, you thought. the thought leaving your eyes watery, until the water fell– tears. jaehyun parts from the kiss when he tastes something salty, he comes face-to-face with your teared face. his heart breaks from a moment, bringing your body to him as he warmly embraces you. he whispers sweet words to you, reassuring words. his lips kissed the top of your head, making their way to your eye where he pecked it.

“i love you,” he whispers, bumping his forehead on yours.

you smiled, muttering the words back to him as you met your lips with his again. falling into him once more, legs wrapped around his waist as he guides you further in the home. he places you on the dining room table, departing his lips from yours with a string of saliva.

jaehyun tugs at your pajama bottoms, taking them off along with your panties. jaehyun groans, seeing your cunt, all wet and hot for him already. he wastes no time, dropping onto his knees as he places your legs on his shoulders. his hands gripped onto your thighs as he licked his lips before licking your sweet pussy up.

one lick, one was all he gave you before taking his lips to kiss and nip your inner thighs and around your pussy lips. jaehyun loved to tease, seeing you squirm and beg for him.

“j-jae,” you moaned, bringing your hand to his head. his hair too prickled you, but you didn’t mind.

jaehyun had a change of plans, feeling nicer tonight, giving in to your cute moan. he brings his tongue to your aching cunt, licking it up, savoring its taste before pocking at your entrance. he was getting ready to fuck you with his tongue, but when your legs wrapped around him you felt his hairs prickle you, causing small fit of giggles from you.

jaehyun stops, pausing to look at you. he doesn’t say anything, going back shortly after to what he was doing. the tip of his tongue teased your entrance. the fit of laughter stopping, replaced by moans. you squirmed, trapping his head.

“stop moving so much, if you move again i won’t let you cum,” jaehyun says in a sultry tone, eyes looking into you so seriously.

it was like you said, jaehyun loved to tease you, loved to find you desperately pleading for him to give you what you most desired.

you tried your best to stop moving, biting your bottom lip as his tongue works its way inside your gummy walls. you felt as his tongue stretched your walls, wiggling its way inside you before thrusting into you so deep.

you almost squirmed, almost fell into the temptation but you knew jaehyun would keep his word and not let you cum.

you chant his name when his tongue grazed over your g-spot before continuing to do so a second and third time. his tongue’s pace increased as his thumb began working its way with your clit, and not to mention the cherry at the top: his hair. oddly enough his hair pricking at you was a pleasurable sensation, one that you grew to love already.

jaehyun moans something against your cunt, the vibrations sending you over the edge as you clench around his tongue. you moved, it was brief but not brief enough to escape jaehyun. his tongue parts from playing inside you, jaehyun too parts from your sensitive cunt, getting up to face you on top of the table.

“i thought i told you not to move,” his voice dips low, it was oddly attractive. you repeatedly apologized, tears in your eyes from the all the tongue fucking. Jaehyun couldn’t think of anything more eye pleasing than how you looked right now, the way he loved to see you.

he grazes a finger in between your pussy lips, swirling it around your entrance to tease you. “look at me, aren’t i a good husband for letting my beautiful wife have another chance?” he questions as he brings his mouth to your ear, biting it.

you arched your back as his finger intruded inside before another one went in. his digits reaching you so deep, finding your g-spot. jaehyun works his mouth through your body, kissing your tits over your tank top until it reaches your clit. he pecked the sensitive bud before sucking on it, biting it gently as his fingers worked ruthlessly in you.

you didn’t move, not even a centimeter instead you moaned, and moaned loudly. you moaned praises to jaehyun which only ignited him more. you could hear the lewd squelching noises you were omitting with every thrusting of jaehyun’s fingers. he groans against your clit when he feels your gummy walls clench around his fingers.

“come on wife, you can cum now,” he says as he departs from your clit, “do it now before i change my mind.”

and so with a tug on your clit and a couple thrust, you finally came. you unleashed all over his hand, managing to capture some of his face as well. a small laugh escapes jaehyun as he gets up, eyes locking with yours.

“didn’t hold back, huh,” jaehyun teases, smirking at you as he licks up your sweet juices.

you tried catching your breath, getting up to sit. you could feel the orgasm you just had in between your legs, but that was the least of your concern. your eyes traveled down jaehyun’s body, stopped in one particular spot.

“and now it’s your turn my dear husband,” you say, slurring the word husband as you palmed his hardened member through his jeans.

the look in jaehyun’s eyes changed, he easily gets you into his arms. jaehyun carries you into the bedroom, dropping you on the bed.

“don’t even think about sleeping tonight, wife.”

2024. 11. 09

final a.n: it was short but i hope ya'll still enjoyed! heads up, i'll be posting a poll in a few hours about next weeks release so please vote if you can (hint: my next jaehyun fic). that's all i got to say for now, i'll be back veryyyy soon, hehe! jiji out's 🤍

402 notes · View notes

onlyangel4 · 6 months ago

Text

unexpected. SMAU. LH44. final part.

lewis hamilton x tattoo artist! reader

in which reader is the last person someone you expect to find in the paddock and that is what makes him drawn to you. or lando's tattoo artist friend visits the paddock to tattoo zak brown after the miami gp win and the internet goes mad.

warnings- cursing

part one // part two

main faceclaim is ryan ashley malarkey

y/ntattoos posted a story

written: lilith's first time abroad is gonna be a fun one.

hamiltonupdates

liked by user17, user43, user53 and 18,732 others

hamiltonupdates: lewis and roscoe seen arriving to the canadian gp. he arrived with y/n y/ln the tattoo artist that he was pictured with at the italian gp and her dog lilith. something tells us that this is not just a coincidence

view all 2,341 comments

user17: damn i thought we had escaped y/n

user53: no cause if they are having a dog play date that is the cutest thing

user43: fuck it. i'm speaking my truth, i love y/n and hope that they are together

y/ntattoos posted a story

written: lilith's first gp

landonorris replied to your story: TRAITOR

y/ntattoos: oh shh you knew i was going to be in mercedes hospitality

landonorris: i know but still i miss my god daughter

mercedesamgf1

liked by y/ntattoos, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 459,289 others

mercedesamgf1: puppy love in the mercedes garage today

view all 52,319 comments

y/ntattoos: in lilith's defence roscoe doesn't actually seem phased

lewishamilton: did he tell you that

y/ntattoos: yeah he told me he loves her and wants her around all the time

lewishamilton: my poor son is now a chair

y/ntattoos: if lilith fits, lilith sits i don't make the rules

georgerussell: wishing that we always have dogs in the garage

lewishamilton: roscoe is almost always there george

georgerussell: i mean cute dogs that don't drool like roscoe

user10: see even mercedes admin likes y/n so just leave her alone

liked by lewishamilton, y/ntattoos and mercedesamgf1

mclaren: you took our girl and her dog. how dare you!

mercedesamgf1: admin is willing to fight to the death for y/n and lilith

mclaren: name a time and a place

y/ntattoos

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, landonorris and 219,829 others

y/ntattoos: the best weekend

thank you for having us mercedesamgf1

view all 67,102 comments

lewishamilton: i think roscoe is already missing lilith

y/ntattoos: and lilith is really mssing roscoe

user19: they are flirting through their dogs. she matches his freak perfectly.

mercedesamgf1: we love you y/n

georgerussell: second !

carmenmundt: third !

y/ntattoos: love you all

user32: the entire mercedes garage loves her so all you haters should just shut tf up liked by y/ntattoos

landonorris: i was gonna leave an angry comment but y'all are cute

user41: LANDO WHAT DO YOU KNOW

lewishamilton posted a story

written: here we go @.y/ntattoos

landonorris replied to your story: make sure you don't cry like a baby in front of your girlfriend

lewishamilton: lando i have been tattooed so many times before. i think you might be projecting

lewishamilton posted a story

written: all new finger tatts done by the talented @.y/ntattoos

y/ntattoos

liked by lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco, user47 and 512,091 others

y/ntattoos: today black hope tattoo studios welcomed roscoe (and his dad)

view all 43,210 comments

roscoelovescoco: lilith is the best napping partner ever

liked by y/ntattoos

lewishamilton: amazed by how talented you are

y/ntattoos: aw thank you lew

user47: omg lew, they have to be dating

user92: it is silverstone week shouldn't he really be training and not wasting time with her

user12: they are fucking adults. leave them alone.

y/ntattoos posted a story

written: here we fucking go

f1wags

liked by f1fan, user12, user70 and 34,510 others

f1wags: firstly, well done lewis! secondly, this win has revealed a brand new wag in y/n y/ln. there have been rumours surrounding the tattoo artist dating lewis since they met in italy but today has cemented it. when lewis won cameras cut to y/n happy sobbing in the mercedes garage with roscoe in her arms and then she ran over to the podium to congratulate him.

view all 22,119 comments

f1fan: for all the hate she got in the beginning i love her

user12: her carrying roscoe to the podium made me cry

user70: best wag confirmed?

y/ntattoos

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, landonorris and 976,102 others

y/ntattoos: lew. i am so incredibly captivated by your talent, i spent that whole race just watching you make good decisions again and again, your brain amazes me. i am so fucking proud of you my love.

view all 102,119 comments

lewishamilton: i had the best support imaginable

y/ntattoos: i love you

mercedesamgf1: y/n you just made admin cry all over again

y/ntattoos: sorry admin. love you !

landonorris: finally, i don't have to keep this secret

lewishamilton

liked by y/ntattoos, mercedesamgf1, landonorris and 3,149,209 others

lewishamilton: full silverstone post is in the works. but first i would like to introduce you all to my lucky charm.

view all 721,109 comments

y/ntattoos: you did it baby

lewishamilton: lcould not have done it without your support my love.

user62: this man wins a grand prix for the first time in over 900 days and his first priority is to hard launch his girlfriend. i want a love like that.

mercedesamgf1: brand new wag just dropped

taglist for this series: @ilivbullyingjeongin @formulaal @xoscar03

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #formula one smau #f1 smau #f1 fandom #f1 fic #lh44 #lh44 x reader #lewis hamilton smau #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you

286 notes · View notes

lurkingshan · 11 months ago

Text

Phee, New, and a Masterful Misdirect

I know I already said as much, but this week drove home again how strong DFF's writing is. Because the way this show used Phee to throw us off the scent until the end game was so, so smart.

In the first four episodes, our attention was deliberately drawn to Phee. He was established as part of one of the two romantic pairings, and we were encouraged to wonder wtf was up with his relationship with Jin. We were also given many subtle hints that Phee was acting suspicious and seemed to be intentionally investigating the boys, while Tan stayed kind of vague and in the background. Tan seemed to know Phee better than the rest, and many guessed he might be helping Phee, but for the most part, the focus was on Phee.

Then as we moved into the flashback, Tan disappeared for four entire episodes, while we get a major reveal about Phee's relationship with Non and lots of time spent on its dissolution. So of course, the prevailing theory becomes that Phee is the one orchestrating this whole investigation and tormenting these boys in the woods. And the assumption is that he's doing this because of his deep love for Non, his shame for not supporting Non when everything hit the fan, and his conviction that he was done wrong. Tan is once again assumed to be helping him, though theories differed on why, with some guessing he was Non's brother and some speculating on other reasons.

But it turns out, Phee isn't running this operation at all. "Tan" is New, and he has been the driving force the entire time. It's his guilt over leaving Non alone to go abroad that motivates him to investigate, and he pulls Phee along with him.

And Phee? Well, he's not quite as broken up about Non's death as we thought. Sure, he wants to understand where Non went and why, for closure. But he doesn't seem to be carrying any huge burdens of guilt or shame, which makes sense because aside from Non's screenplay that alludes to culprits he doesn't name, he doesn't actually know the truth about Non's situation with Keng or what any of these boys did. He jumps into a romance with Jin incredibly quickly, and it's clear the attraction and his feelings are genuine even as he justifies it to New by claiming it's for the investigation. He takes Jin to the place where he asked Non to be his boyfriend, so apparently this is not something he holds sacred. The morning after he has sex with Jin, Phee is in Jin's room while he's asleep, and does not take the opportunity to investigate. Instead he moons over Jin, cuddles up to him, and instigates morning sex. He is still staring off into space smiling to himself about it until New accuses him of cheating on his brother, at which point he remembers what he's supposed to be doing, makes his excuses, and puts up walls with Jin.

And from then on, they don't seem to learn much of anything, and I suspect that Phee doesn't really want to, because he likes Jin and doesn't want to know what he did to Non. Phee, as it turns out, is just an immature high school boy who liked his boyfriend, but moved on pretty quickly once it was over. He would not be doing any of this if it wasn't for New, and it's clear his heart isn't in it. New is the one who feels deep guilt, who wants to learn what the group did to Non, and whose trauma compounds until he snaps and hatches a plan to trap them at the vacation house and dose them with hallucinogens. Phee goes along with it, but as we saw, his motive seems to be more about reconnecting with Jin before he leaves the country than actually caring about punishing these boys for what happened to Non.

What a great, nuanced little twist to this reveal. New has been the one running the show the whole time, and the show managed to keep that from us via a classic misdirect with Phee. I love that this show manages to keep finding ways to surprise us even when we have some of the picture figured out.

#dead friend forever #dff the series #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

347 notes · View notes

lbxbx · 1 year ago

Text

Cockpit | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood,

Previous | Next

It’s early in the summer, about the end of June you are finally able to take a weekend off of work, the hospital you work at never gave up on you through the weekends, especially during summer weekends where most accidents occur, which is specifically the season you regret taking your medical degree.

Standing in your apartment around 8 in the evening, struggling to correct your eyeliner in front of the long full body mirror in your bedroom, you curse under your breath for fucking up your eyeliner again before putting down the pencil and smudging the stupid line you already put on your lash lines.

You applaud yourself, even though you sucked to begin with, it didn’t turn out half bad. Or at least that’s what you convince yourself.

Your phone buzzes on your nightstand which makes the music you’re already playing on your phone go quieter, you turn while singing the missed part of the song you’re playing, you look at the screen, it’s Hoseok, your high school best friend who ended up being your really close friend even after all these years of studying abroad and being busy with work, your parents became close with his since they already love him.

You slide down the notification.

“you better be ready when im there”

“u know I hate waiting in the car”

“and you always take so long so pls be ready”

You were going to the club to celebrate the last weekend of your friend Yoongi being single, you had already chose a short flattering, but very revealing dress, barely covers your lower ass, silver that fully exposes the tattoo on your spine of a long flower that ends on the nape of your neck, your dress barely covers your lower back, with silver high heels.

You rarely get a chance to dress up because of your time consuming work that robbed all the fun out of your life, not long ago you started balancing work and having an actual life, you and Hoseok visited different clubs and went on so many hiking trip together through the past year which resulted in you making a new friend to add to your group, Hoseok is such a social butterfly and a comfortable person to be around.

Your lips curve in a soft smile, well he’s right, no matter how hard you try to manage your time, you’re always late, your fingers automatically hover over the screen to reply.

“yes sir.” With a salute emoji.

You get up and take off your pajama set and get into the small dress you chose, you loosen your big curls and make the final touches, you’re looking perfect and you knew it, tonight will be solely about having fun, Yoongi is actually getting married!

Your phone rings after a few minutes and you know it’s Hoseok, you answer and inform him that you’ll be down in seconds, you take your purse and put in your sample size perfume, phone and lipstick, before getting in your not comfortable very high heels, you turn off the lights and make your way out of the building.

You spot his fancy Porsche parked right in front of the entrance, you roll your eyes when you see him walk out the car and make his way towards you.

“Look at you.” He holds his hands out to hold yours. “You look like a disco ball.” He spins you and whistles, which makes click your tongue and look at him with your free hand on your hip.

“A beautiful disco ball.” He elaborates, he looks good too, wearing a gray suit with the first 4 buttons of his off-white shirt unbuttoned. You hug him and give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get going we’re already late.”

Flaws and all, I love ‘em all, to me you’re perfect

The moment you walk into the club, Hoseok walking behind you with his hand on your back, slowly guiding you to the table you’re friends booked, place already packed with people. And once Taehyung spots you he gets up with his drink in his hand. “Finally.” He starts dancing, slowly making his way towards you, which makes you sway your shoulders, dancing with him and laugh at him, clearly he’s already drunk.

He hugs you in his big arms and kisses your temple softly. “There you are, I hope you enjoyed the hike you didn’t invite me to.” He says in a sarcastic note making you nudge him in the chest.

You, Hoseok, Yoongi and his fiancé Mia had went on a hike a couple weeks ago which Mia suggested and you couldn’t decline her offer, you could’ve told the boys but it all happened so quick, you didn’t get a chance to invite any of them.

“Come on, it wasn’t that fun any way.” You say subtly into his ear which he smirks and takes another sip of his drink, he hugs Hoseok before both of you approach your table, you hug Yoongi and he hugs you back. “It’s really happening huh?” You rub his back.

“I’m really putting my dick in jail.” He laughs, handing you his drink, which you don’t think twice before sipping it.

“Come on, we’re getting a round of shots!” Seokjin moves a seat away to give you space to sit, his hair grew longer than you could ever remember, he pushed it back but a few strands manage to slip on his forehead.

“You guys are already drunk?” You exclaim before taking a shot glass from him, you all stand up and clink your shots together.

“To putting Yoongi’s dick in jail!” Jungkook says loud which makes you all repeat after him. “To putting Yoongi’s dick in jail!” You swallow the shot and cringe immediately at the bitter taste, which makes you chase it with the nearest glass of juice you find on the table.

“Hey. Y/N, let’s dance.” Jimin puts his hand on your back, you shake your head immediately in refusal. “I need more alcohol.”

Jimin ends up pulling Taehyung to the dance floor, you take your seat between Yoongi and Seokjin, Hoseok already headed to the bar to grab you both drinks.

“They finally let you off work?” Seokjin asks out loud for you to hear him, you nod and straighten your back. “I didn’t take a weekend off since October.” You pout, he nods and take a sip of his drink. “You’ll figure it out soon, it’s always difficult in the beginning.”

You and Seokjin met at the bar near the hospital you work out, he’s a pediatrician resident in his 4th year, you never knew he worked at the same hospital until you met him at the bar, it was only Hi’s and Hello’s at the beginning of your friendship, but he made his way into the group when he actually showed up when you needed him, he’s a bully sometimes, which makes you laugh even when you force it out, but he’s the sweetest.

“And you?” You turn to Yoongi. “How are you not panicking?”

He rolls his eyes at you and puts his drink down, “Typical Y/N”

Studying abroad has definitely made you a bit more open minded than usual, it’s not that you refuse relationships, you’re totally not against them, but it’s just not your thing. You’ve never been through a full experience to love and be loved, but you never craved it. Back while you were studying, your week nights were devoted just for studying and focusing on your career, but on the weekends, you had to spend them out, partying, clubbing, having flings with a couple of people, you liked your lifestyle and you still enjoy it being like this.

You nudge Yoongi in his arm and add. “You’re so brave for doing this, I’m happy for you.”

“I would totally agree with Y/N, I would panic.” Jungkook shrugs, which makes you high five him.

“Come on.” Seokjin scoffs. “Jungkook wants to pound every pussy in Seoul before getting married.”

“Word.” Hoseok agrees without even getting the context while putting your drinks down, Jungkook’s mouth falls as if he was offended. “He’s not wrong.” Hoseok shrugged.

Not long after, you’re not completely drunk, but drunk enough to get on the dance floor with Taehyung and Yoongi, you’re sandwiched between them, the three of you dancing to the loud beat of music, the dance floor is crowded as hell, people making out and kissing in the corner of the club, some even grinding against each other, the place smells like a mix of perfume, cologne, and hormones.

Seokjin joins you eventually and starts dancing with you, you laugh at how stupidly drunk he is, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes barely kept open. You lean closer to his ear. “I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

You go over to the crowded bar, you hardly find a place to stand next to man waiting for his drink, you stumble on the small step you didn’t see, which you curse under your breath for not paying attention, you barely bump into the man’s elbow, you out of habit apologize while panicking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He said, you could feel him looking down at you while you’re checking if your heels are okay, you shrug it off once it looks okay, you walk closer to the bar while leaning your elbows on it, waiting for the bartender to notice you.

“Are you okay?” The gentleman asks, right until now you realized you don’t know who this deep voice belongs to, you turn to look at him, sharp nose, a charming smile with a soft dimple on his cheek, small orbs that stare right into yours.

You visibly gulp and nod, studying his face and features more, he even dares to shoot a sweet smile at you. He knows he has a beautiful smile and he uses it as move to make.

And at this moment you realize you’ve been quite for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Yeah. I’m alright.” You nod, you know it’s not that hot in June, but you’re sweating. He turned his face to the bartender and you notice his soft jaw and long neck, his long fingers wrap around the glass, you’re pretty sure he said something, but you were busy staring at his buff arms making their way to his back pocket to locate his wallet, your eyes chase every single movement he makes, and with his hands locating his wallet in his front pocket, your eyes fall on his thick thighs, where did this man come from?

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks, immediately making you snap out of your thoughts, you look up and clear your throat. “I’ll have a martini.”

An awkward silence and tension builds between you and the man right next to you, you want to say something but you don’t want to sound stupid, you choose to ignore your thoughts and just take your phone out of your purse and act occupied, you look very stupid when you’re deleting old pictures on your phone.

“Y/N?” He says, which makes your eyes widen and you almost choke in your own breath, you look at him again, Do you know him?

“I’m sorry?” You answer surprisingly fast, which makes him take a sip from his drink and laugh. “Your phone case is a pass card.”

You’re confused for a second, still trying to process what he’s saying, you’re drunk, but not drunk enough to be this stupid and slow and thick?

He can easily read your face and he shoots you another one of his smiles, he knows what he’s doing.

He gives you a look, which clearly means ‘Can I?’, And you shrug telling him to elaborate. He grabs your phone and flips it over still remaining in your hands, which reveals your see through phone case, that you have your hospital pass card inside it, showing your full name in a large font.

“Ah this.” You immediately turn your phone back, you hope he didn’t see too much, like where you work or what’s your job. You look back at him to see him staring right into your face, studying your features too.

“I’m Namjoon.” He reaches his hand out to shake yours, and you don’t hesitate at all to shake his hand back and feel his long fingers squeezing your hand ever so softly, both of you shaking hands and not letting go for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry for catching you off guard.” He grins, which makes you feel like something is pinching you in your stomach. “But you have your pass card on full display, which if it makes you feel better, I just saw your first name, nothing else.” He adds, like he knew what you were concerned about.

“Y/N!” Jungkook calls from behind, which makes you pull your hand away from Namjoon’s in the speed of light, your weird attitude doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he looks back at Jungkook and turns back to face the bar and take a sip of his drink.

“Come on, we’re popping the champagne.” Jungkook’s hand sits respectfully on your upper back, you nod and look back at him. “I’m waiting for my drink, I’ll follow you in a second.” although your drink has been sitting in front of you for the past few seconds, Jungkook is too drunk to notice and he heads back to your table, Namjoon turns to look at the sight of Jungkook joining the rest of the boys around the table.

“Your boyfriend?” He asks, which you think is a little bit over the line.

“Him?” You cringe. No offense to Jungkook, but you and him are just friends, you almost ended up sleeping with him long time ago and thankfully it didn’t happen, you’re just friends, and you’re smart enough to know it’s wrong if you did it. “Absolutely not.” You enunciate it.

Your fingers wrap around your drink and you know it’s your turn to make him look. “Nice to meet you Namjoon.” You clink your glass with his that’s resting on the table, and you turn and move your hair to the side to expose your tatted back to him, you walk towards the table and join the boys for the rest of the night.

Your night has come to an end, you’re leaning against the wall outside the club with Jimin waiting for Hoseok to bring his car, your heels in your hands and Jimin’s jacket on your shoulders, muffled music from inside still in your ears, you’re done for the night, you’re not completely drunk, but you started having a strong headache minutes ago, you need to rest, shower and go to sleep.

You laugh at Taehyung teasing Jungkook and you join Taehyung, Jungkook ends up flipping Taehyung off and sending you a fly kiss which is way over you when you see behind him Namjoon, walking out of the club with what seems like his friends.

Ironically, you can hear the song ‘Satisfaction’ played from the inside.

Push me, and then just touch me.

Till I can get my satisfaction.

He had his suit jacket in his hands, he was rolling his shirt sleeves slowly up with his long fingers.

Are you drooling?

He sits on a near bench and just man spreads his legs, his hand taking out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, he takes one out and puts it in between his plump lips, clicking the lighter a couple of times while shielding the flame with his other hand before it goes to his hair and runs his fingers through it, he looks around and notices you staring at him, you’re not even blinking. He hallows his cheeks while taking a drag and blows out a huge cloud of smoke.

This man walked out of a fucking book!

He doesn’t hesitate to show you his dimple one last time before winking at you, your breath hitches and your hand goes to your stomach, there’s a knot that you feel only he can make it feel better, you’re sweating more than usual, and you can feel the heat between your legs getting uncomfortable.

“Drive safe Hoseok.” Jin opens the passenger seat and looks at you, you snap out of your thoughts and turn towards the car, “Don’t forget our dinner tomorrow.” He adds.

You had already planned on a celebration dinner for Yoongi too, this time a little more formal considering some of the boys are bringing along their girlfriends. You nod and look one last time at Namjoon. You secretly wish you took his number or had a drink with him, but you’re not a girl who makes a first move, for your pride’s sake, it’s always guys making a move on you.

“Text me when you get there safe.” Yoongi leans his palms on the roof of the car, you get into the car and buckle your seat belts.

You and Yoongi didn’t meet long ago, about a year and a half ago, you were with Hoseok and Jungkook playing bowling, when Jungkook got a little too competitive and decided to challenge the table next to you, which had Yoongi, his girlfriend, now fiancé. And other friends. Yoongi won of course, which you and Hoseok admired that finally someone humbled this man, you met him again at the bowling place and you just clicked with him. He’s also offered his help since he works at a bank, he makes everything easier for you. He’s a true friend.

“Good night.” You smile at him. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You wave to the rest of the boys and they wave back, you turn to look at that bench again, Namjoon must’ve left because you can’t locate him, you lean your head back into the car seat and your hands move to the air conditioning, you’re on fire!

Hoseok didn’t drink throughout the night since he’s driving, he did take a couple sips of whine, but he’s not drunk at all.

Doesn’t take that long to get back to your place, you undress and get into the shower and clean off your makeup, you take a bottle of water out from the fridge and sit in your living room.

The images of this man is haunting you, you only know his name and his face, you don’t know what he does, where he lives, how old is he?

You look at your phone and open up your social media, shuffling between the apps and searching ‘Namjoon’. You don’t even know his last name, he could use a picture that’s not his.

Your friends admired that you were talented in finding people’s accounts, especially when one of the men had a secret crush on a girl, you would help them find her social accounts by trying to search in different ways.

And you did manage to find an instagram account, the username matching his real name, the picture was taken on a beach, a figure of a tall man with his back turned to the camera, it could be him after all

You open the account but it’s clearly not active, following 120 accounts and followed by 70, and only 1 photo uploaded. But the account is private.

You put down your phone in frustration and sigh, you end up gulping your water and going to bed. It’s just a one time thing, you won’t see him again.

Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the moment he walks back to his house when he feels the heavy weight of the world on his shoulders, he stands in front of his apartment door, debating whether he should go inside or just go crash at his parents.

No, no. They don’t have to know.

Kim Namjoon, the successful man who went out of the box and did the extraordinary, chose an out of the box job, with a high degree. Quickly managed to pull his life together and marry—well not the love of his life, it’s the woman he got used to being around.

Married for 3 years and not once did he feel that this marriage is about them, it was about her and only her.

First year was low key not that bad but not that good either, every married couple have fallouts, but he assumes that they both have to compromise, but only he had to compromise. She wants everything done her way, she wants him to eat what she eats, go where she goes, not out of love, but out of habit of controlling people around her.

Yet he was sweet and considerate, she travelled to a different province to live with him away from her parents, maybe that’s why she’s acting like this, she’s probably homesick, he did everything he could to make it up to her, he bathed her with love and gifts and money. He wanted to show her the world quite literally, but she just refuses every act of love, even denies his touch in front of their family, never did she ever like a photo he posted of both of them, she never left a comment which he really craves. He wants to show people he loves her.

Even when he once tried to surprise her on their one year anniversary, booked her first class seats to New York on new years eve, she completely rejected and never even said thank you. Goodness, she never even gifted him on his birthday.

Second year things went significantly downhill, when they found out she’s pregnant. Planning for kids was never on the table, not that they don’t want kids, but this kid is totally unplanned for. He so desperately wants to be a dad, but he’s not sure how she feels about him, or most importantly how he feels about her. They’re married just by name.

She made up an excuse for being a tough sleeper and she wanted her own bed, he gave up the master bedroom to give her her own space, and moved out to the couch at first when he thought it was temporarily or short termed.

3 Months, 4 months..

9 Months passed, she gave birth and came up with another excuse of the baby crying at night, he had flights to catch in the morning, she doesn’t want to mess up his sleep. As if she cares.

A man has his own desires, he tried different ways, kissing her, touching, even suggesting movie nights to show her something that might make her aroused, none.

He adores his son, that’s what’s keeping him sane at the moment, although when he comes back late from work, baby Jay mostly gets ready for bed by that time. Play time with daddy is not allowed, he can’t even love his son the way he should.

His son turned 2 in their third year of marriage, he can now talk , walk, even run. And baby Jay doesn’t seem to like mommy as much as he likes daddy, although he spends most of the weekends in Ilsan with her parents, but he’s still attached to his daddy.

It was 2 in the morning, standing in front of his apartment door, the debate tonight is taking longer than usual, especially when he saw you, the astonishing lady who fucking screams his type, outgoing, gorgeous, attractive, social hence your large group of friends.

He searches his pockets before fishing out his ring, puts it back on his left ring finger, before pressing the pass code on the door, the lights are.. On?

He makes his way inside his flat and locks the door behind him, “Where have you been?” She storms out from the guests room, a huge ugly frown on her once he thought was a pretty face.

“I’m sorry, I went out with guys from work.” Namjoon’s job kind of restrained him when it came to having friends, he did have some, but they ended up getting busy with their regular jobs and life, it became easier to hang out with his co workers because they got off work together, plus they click and get along really well.

“Do you know what time it is?”

When he looks at her, he swims in a deep pond of thoughts in his head, he can’t even remember the last time she showed him skin, he did excuse her when she gave birth when she wanted to be in comforting clothes, but their soon is at her parents house, she could at least try and show some skin.

In a pair of sweat pants and an oversized stained shirt, who is he to judge, at least she’s comfortable, and those stains show her effort of being a lousy housewife.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes for the second time in a span of 4 minutes, walks closer to her, a few inches away from grabbing her hips, she immediately hovers her hand on his chest, not even touching him, signaling him to get away. “Ew, did you smoke?” She covers her nose with the back of her hand, before turning and walking towards the bedroom while shutting off the living room lights. “Clean yourself up and go to bed, and turn of the rest of the lights, we’re paying too much for the bills.”

A small breath of frustration leaves his nose, she slams the door shut which he doesn’t even flinch, he’s so used to her being the worst human being he’s ever met.

He puts his jacket down on the couch and throws himself down on it, his head falls back and his eyes just close for a split second.

Music from the club still playing in his head when he remembers your breath taking figure walking away from him, your back explicitly making a show for him, he wished he could touch your tattoo with his fingertips at least. And what you didn’t see was his eyes roaming around your body, as if he’s not believing his eyes actually seeing someone that looks exactly like the woman he imagined having in his teenage years.

His eyes so passionately with high concentration focus on your calves and thighs, up to your ass that he wants to dive in so desperately, he admires your skin color, the small birthmark on the back of your thigh, your chest rising when your breathing quickens, up to your long neck begging for his fingers to just wrap around and for his lips to suck on, up to your lips pursing with each word and your tongue moving to your lower lip when you look at him, then finally his eyes met yours, and he finds the way you look at him insanely hot, he was never looked at like this, and he’s so positive that you both are on the same page.

His eyebrows scrunch in a frown when he rewinds the night.

Did you just flirt with someone when you’re married? He thinks before scoffing, totally forgetting the tought that he started filing for divorce a couple weeks ago, without even letting his wife know, it’s the last thing he wanted for his son to experience his parents getting a divorce, but his marriage went down the pooper and it’s just a lost cause.

The lawyer said it’s going to take some time, especially when there’s a baby between them, but still, is he allowed to flirt with someone while still being involved in a marriage?

But fuck, what you actually do to him? He finds himself palming his jeans, slowly but surely unzipping it to make himself more comfortable, the bulge in his pants is way too tight for his liking.

He gets up and makes his way to the bathroom, undressing in seconds and getting under the running warm water, his hands move to his body lotion before he puts some into his palm and rubs it all over his sculpted big body, his hands going slowly to his already erect cock, he grabs the head tightly in between his thumb and index finger, stroking it slowly, making sure to take his time to feel the pleasure, his eyes even close and all he can see is you

Namjoon was a man with a fucking wild brain and an even wilder imagination, sudden scenarios go through his brain, you dancing, even him touching you, his eyes close tighter, not totally satisfied with his vanilla imagination, it needs to be harder.

And in a snap of a finger he can see himself fucking your tight pussy from behind, ruining you and using you to release all his frustration, he imagines kissing your spine and running his tongue on it. His messed up thoughts show him your mouth around his monstrously large dick, choking on it, and that’s when he totally gives in and grows weaker, his muscles relaxing when he shoots continuous white ribbons of cum on the shower floor, his breath going quicker when he releases, he tenses again and a small groan escapes his plump lips when he looks down at his cock still shooting cum, this has never happened with him before and it makes him wonder on the spot, fuck what are you doing to him.

His palm automatically leans on the wall for support, he starts breathing slowly to control his breath. He came hard imagining you in his hands, which if you knew you would be flattered.

He cleans himself up and gets out of the shower, gets dressed and rushes to bed, he has to pick up Jay from Ilsan tomorrow.

#namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #kpop smut #bts x reader #namjoon smut #kim namjoon

375 notes · View notes

numinousmysteries · 3 months ago

Text

@leiascully mentioned airports. JessM wrote the quintessential airport fic and this lives in that universe. I owe them everything, and they owe me nothing.

This has not been beta'd, edited, or put through any quality control whatsoever. Read at your own risk.

@today-in-fic @xffictober24

Paved Paradise

It's Bill Scully's turn to host Christmas. There is some sort of algorithm within the extended Scully clan that determines this. It factors in variables such as who's stationed abroad, who's too pregnant to travel, and who's just being so goddamn stubborn (Scully's words) this year. It's a complex calculation that starts as early as July if Scully's sighs and eye rolls during her phone calls with her mother are any indication. And despite all the time and care that allegedly goes into these deliberations, it seems that more often than not–in Mulder's mind at least—they end up flying to San Diego on the busiest travel day of the year.

Maggie headed out a week earlier to spend more time with Bill's kids, so it's just the three of them hunkered down at O'Hare for an extended layover. One that's becoming more and more extended as the snow piles up.

William has been characteristically well-behaved on the journey so far but even the most mature six-year-old's patience would be worn thin by now. Fuck, Mulder thinks, even this not-so-mature 46-year-old is getting antsy.

"I'm so bored!" He calls out, squirming in the vinyl seat at the gate. "Can I go walk around?"

"No," Scully says. She's not even looking up from her book. Mulder doesn't know how she can maintain her stoic calm in the boisterous chaos of an airport on Christmas Eve. "They could call us to board any minute now. And besides, it's too crowded, I'm worried you'll get lost."

Mulder doesn't want to remind her that they could have been called to board any minute in the past three hours now. "I'll go with him," he says, jolting up out of his seat. "We won't go far. And I'll have my phone on me, so just send a bat signal if we need to come back."

She looks up from her book to consider it. The two of them must look desperate because she just shakes her head and sighs. "Sure. Stay close."

Mulder grins down at William who smiles back conspiratorially.

"Yes! Thanks mom!" Full of pent-up energy, the kid grabs Mulder's hand and pulls him into the mire of human mass in the terminal. Will's red hair makes it easy to keep track of him in the crowd although, to Mulder's dismay, it's been getting darker recently. He'll always have Scully's bright blue eyes, though.

"Where to, kid?"

"I'm hungry," he says, excitedly. "And maybe they have a book store. I finished my book on the first flight and then I read the whole thing again. And look—there's a Pizza Hut. Can we get Pizza Hut?"

Mulder stops in his tracks in front of the restaurant. Still in motion in front of him, William stumbles a bit at the abrupt stop. He's been here before. In this exact spot in this terminal seven years ago. But there wasn't a Pizza Hut Express there before. It used to be a Chili's To Go. A very special Chili's To Go.

"What is this crap?" He gasps.

"Dad!" William glares up at him in surprised disapproval. A look that could come from his mother. "You can't say that."

"This didn't used to be a Pizza Hut, Will."

"Huh?" His son asks, confused.

"There was a Chili's here once. Before you were born. Your mom and I went there after a case once."

William is still staring at him skeptically. "Didn't you go to like a million airports?"

"Yeah," Mulder says, gazing in shock at the new restaurant as if its predecessor will suddenly appear before his eyes. "But this one was...memorable."

"Why? Was the food good?"

"I don't remember any food."

"You're so weird, dad," Will shakes his head. "Can we get pizza?"

"Um, sure," Mulder says. He's sadder than he should be by the replacement of one chain restaurant in an airport by another. But god, what had happened at that Chili's. It was the first time she let him touch her. The first time they fucked. In a red vinyl booth, no less. It was where their partnership finally became something more. William wasn't conceived there—and for that, he is thankful—but it set in motion the shift in their relationship that would ultimately lead to William's conception. That would ultimately lead them here. To this airport. On this holiday. As a family. And the Chili's wasn't even there to witness them.

Mulder goes through the motion of paying for William's personal pan pizza, bottled water, and a large diet Pepsi for him and William to share. He eyes the corner of the restaurant where there used to be a booth behind a retaining wall. The wall and the booth are gone. Probably ditched in a dumpster somewhere, trash compacted, or sold at auction. They should have been given a proper sendoff. A 21-gun salute. A hero's farewell at Arlington.

Eager to eat his pizza, Will skips his way back to the gate, his dazed father following a half-step behind.

As Will sinks back into his chair, Mulder turns to Scully any says, "It's official. They've paved paradise and put up a Pizza Hut."

"Blow on that, honey, it's hot," Scully says to William, not missing a beat. "What are you talking about, Mulder?"

"The Chili's that was in this terminal. Our Chili's? It's gone. They replaced it with a Pizza Hut Express. Can you believe that shit?"

"Language, Mulder," she whispers, nodding toward William who's too absorbed in his cheese pizza to notice.

Mulder can tell she knows what he's talking about though. She's starting to blush. A light rouge rising to her cheek not unlike the fuzzy pink of the sweater she'd been wearing that day. One that, now that he thinks about, he'd never seen her wear before or since.

"Are you sure it was even this terminal? These all look the same," she says.

"How could I forget?" It comes out louder than he wanted, even startling William briefly before he turns back to his meal.

"It could have been this terminal. Or it could have been any of the other identical ones though."

He slaps his hands on his thighs in frustration. "No, Scully, you're wrong. It was this one. I know it was. And I know you know, too."

"Oh, Mulder." She shakes her head and turns back to her book.

Finally, their flight is called for boarding. They gather up their bags and herd William onto the jet bridge. Once they're settled into their row, William in between them distracted with a new book, Scully leans over him to whisper in Mulder's ear.

"We'll always have Chili's." She winks.

Her low purr makes his groin twitch and he makes a note that he'll have to do something about that later, even in Bill Scully's house. It'll be more comfortable than a booth at Chili's To Go at least.

#xfiles #txf #the x files #msr #x files #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr fanfic #fictober #xffictober

46 notes · View notes

dancinglikepirateking · 1 year ago

Text

Bump Into You

Prompt: Your childhood best friend finally comes back after studying from abroad and something in your dynamic changes.

General tags: friends to lovers, fluff i think?, he is tall, very tall.

Word count: 5.0K

“Can I Facetime you? Urgency level 10.” you quickly text Yunho. You briefly see his chat bubble appear and then disappear, seeing as he called you.

“What’s burning? What happened? Is someone following you?” he asks concerned, as he inspects your background, noticing you are in your room. He exhales loudly and you giggle, wiping your tears and hugging your knees.

“I miss you. We haven’t talked that much lately and I miss you so much.” your words come out muffled, sniffling and new tears replace the ones you just wiped. You’ve always been this attached to him, he was the only person that ever allowed you to be clingy and express your feelings the way you wanted and needed, and he took it all gladly. He loved being loved by you, which made you love him even more.

He sighs and you notice as his expression morphs into a sad one, seeing his lips gain a small pout. “I miss you too princess. But I will be with you soon, just a few more weeks and I will be there.” he says trying to comfort you, at which you nod and try to stop your tears.

“Are you busy? Do you have things to do? Anything to study for?” you ask slightly anxious that you are wasting his time. You see him scratch the back of his neck and nod. “Yeah… I have like two exams coming up this week and a few more presentations to work on. But they can wait, you need me way more and you are more important.” he replies he smiles sweetly at you.

Is this the right time to mention the huge crush you’ve had on this man for the past nine years? A crush that was impossible to get rid of. Your heart does a flip at his smile.

“No fucking way. Did you make plans with your friends to study?” you ask alarmed, straightening your back and looking at him. “I did but I already told them that I’m not coming the moment you texted me. It’s okay princess, really.” he reassures you again.

“Nope. It is not. We are having a study date together right now. I should be studying too. Come on get your notebooks and let’s go.” you say fully motivated as you go to sit on your desk and get your things ready. He laughs and looks at you lovingly with a cute small smile plastered on his lips. He also goes to sit at his desk and gets to work, at times mumbling whatever he was reading or writing or even explaining it to you so he himself could understand it. As for you, not much studying happened as you couldn’t help but stare at his focused, concentrated face.

The love you have for this man… You are doomed.

***

You check yourself in the mirror once more before picking up your tote bag that had your things and leaving your house, getting into your car and heading towards the airport.

After

Your childhood best friend Yunho is finally coming back home after studying abroad for the past three years. And while you two still talked on the phone and texted a lot, not being able to see him whenever you wanted was annoying, as well as the lack of any physical contact, which was so painful for you to be suddenly robbed by his warm hugs, by his arms circling your waist and pulling you oh so close.

You shake your head at the thought. You were about to see him and your heart was beating like crazy. Sure maybe you had a small crush on him. For the past 9 years of your life, and sure maybe you should give up already, but your heart can't calm down whenever he's around. But you are not delusional enough to interpret every touch and every look he gives you as him reciprocating your crush for him, the two of you have always been this close and used disgustingly cute pet names just to annoy each other. You are more than okay with Yunho not liking you like that.

Before you know it you reach the airport, thanks to being lost in your thoughts. You park your car quickly and get inside the building, looking to see when exactly his plane lands. He lands in 10 minutes at gate 5, so you quickly look for it, and while there are around five minutes left of waiting, you remember you forgot something in your car. Could you make a run for it? I mean for sure, it takes forever to get off the plane and get your luggage and everything. So you run out of the building and towards your car to get the bouquet of flowers you got for your friend on your way to the airport.

Once you have the flowers in your arms, you quickly rearrange them and head back inside the airport, but after you check the arrivals screen again you don’t see Yunho’s flight anymore. Did everyone unbark already?

You started to take bigger steps towards gate 5. Or was it gate 4? You couldn’t remember. You were now jogging towards the area where you thought (and wished) the right gate was, and while in your hurry you jog full force into someone’s chest, the flowers squish between your body and the person’s in front of you. Oh fuck not Yunho’s flowers.

You take a step back and tears gather at the corners of your eyes as you look at the now very squished flowers, some of the petals falling off. Without making eye contact (you always hated making eye contact with strangers) you started apologising to the poor person you just hit and somehow didn’t see at all.

“I’m so so sorry, I don’t know where I was looking. Are you ok? Did you get hurt?” you ask while looking at the ground now, trying to keep the tears at bay so they wouldn’t spill over, looking very sadly at the flowers.

“Are you ok princess?” responds a very familiar voice. The pet name disgusted you at first, coming from a stranger as far as you knew, but once the voice registered in your mind, you raised your head, you raised it so much that your neck was in a very uncomfortable position. It was Yunho. A very tall Yunho. Taller than you remembered.

“Yunho.” you whisper and then get your arms around his wait, pulling him into a very tight hug. If you weren’t crying before, you surely were crying now, while you were snuggling into his chest, not caring if you were dirtying his shirt, and he didn’t seem to care either, as one of his arms went around your shoulders and the other was resting on the top of your head, caressing your hair gently. He was talking to you, but you were so overwhelmed by his presence and scent and just all sorts of emotions that you could not hear anything anymore, you were just feeling everything. Your heart was beating so fast and you were hearing his heartbeat just as fast as yours and you were smiling like crazy into his chest. Oh how you missed him.

“Never leave for this long again.” you muffle while your face is still buried in his chest and you feel him laugh under your touch, which makes you smile.

You finally pull back, taking a step back and wiping your tears with the back of your hand, not caring at all how messy your face was right now. You remember the bouquet you had in your hand the whole time and you give the flowers one last look before you stretch your arm with the flowers towards him.

Yunho looked down at the very colourful flowers trying to contain his excitement, but his smile was the widest and prettiest you’ve ever seen. “For you. They are Gladiolus, I know you’ve talked about how much you like them that one time. I’m sorry, they looked so much prettier five minutes ago before I basically ran you over…” you shily say while looking down at your feet, still embarrassed by you bumping into him like that. He takes the flowers gladly, looking at them adoringly and smiling, you would even say he was blushing a little. He slightly leans down and circles your waist with his arms and pulls you in a hug and lifts you at the same time, your feet leaving the floor, being forced to quickly wrap your arms around his neck so you wouldn’t fall, letting out a surprised squeak.

“I love them. Thank you.” he says as he buries his face in your neck, his deep, low voice and his very strong scent and steady hold on you making you freeze for a brief second, in which you start playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck.

He slowly puts you back on the ground and you look up at him. When and how did he get this tall? “Let’s go.” you say as you grab one of his luggages and drag it after you. He knows it’s pointless if he insists he carries it, so he doesn’t even try, instead he just follows right behind while still looking at the flowers lovingly, dragging behind him the other luggage that had on top of it a huge shoulder bag. You are the only person to ever give him flowers, and while this isn’t the first time you gave him pretty flowers, he is always in awe when he receives them.

“When the fuck did you get this tall? What have you been doing over there?” you ask jokingly to break him out of his trance and he laughs. “Maybe you just got shorter?” he replies jokingly and you slap his arm which just makes him laugh more. “I grew like two inches. I’m not really sure how but I didn’t notice it until people started pointing it out. I’m around 6'2 now, not that much of a difference honestly.” he continues and you try to hide your shock. 6'2. Holy fuck. There was a time when the two of you were the same height, and you’re not even that short, you’re 5'6. This guy just kept stretching.

You look with the corner of your eye at him and how much taller he is than you, towering over you while just walking next to you. You return your eyes ahead of you, feeling as your face was starting to redden up. “How was the flight?” you ask, trying to distract yourself from the way he made you feel. He starts telling you all about it while you lead him towards your car. He puts the luggages in the trunk and then gets in the front seat.

“How have you been? How has the town been? Living without me must’ve been terrible right? I’m impressed you didn’t burn the house down.” he teases. Before he moved to Japan for his Master’s he used to be your dorm mates. It just made sense, you know? Being friends for so long and getting along so well, your communication was so good and you two worked so well together, it was the most obvious thing to move in together. And it was the most obvious thing to continue like this now. You two living together was also another factor of why you didn’t plan on telling him the feelings you have for him, besides the obvious of him not feeling the same.

You didn’t look for a new dorm mate while he was gone either, even though he said he was okay with the idea of renting his room while he was gone, you weren’t okay with it.

“It was horrible, never dare leave me alone for this long again.” you say in a joking tone even though you were dead serious, and he knows it as well.

On the ride to your house he tells you about the friends he made in Japan, how they threw him a small party the night before, how they all ended up crying over him leaving while the rest of them were staying. “Though one of the girls, Yoko, I’ve told you about her before, confessed that she liked me for a while. But I turned her down for multiple reasons.” he says at one point and the statement makes your heart skip a beat. I mean yeah, who wouldn’t. “We all promised to keep in touch. They might even visit one day. You will have to meet them when they do, they are really the nicest.” Yunho continues to tell you excited while you were still stuck on the girl liking him, your grip on the steering wheel tightening. Were you mad? No, no reason or right to be. Jealous? Maybe only because this girl had the courage to say something you’ve been trying to say for nine years.

“What got you so mad? Your knuckles are turning white. What are you thinking about?” Yunho asks, concerned as he touches your hand that was on the gear. You flinch at the unexpected contact and quickly focus back on the road. This is not the time to be getting jealous for no good reason. “I was thinking if I locked the door or not when I left.” you quickly lie and he looks at you with a doubtful look but brushes it off, telling you about the friends he made at the dance classes he attended.

That was close.

Once you park your car in the driveway you help Yunho with his luggage and bring them into his room. “Did you clean my room?” he asks after he looks around, noticing there is little to no dust on the furniture. “Yeah every once in a while. I didn’t want dust to pile up and I wanted to welcome you back with a clean room.” you say while you follow him with your eyes as he falls on the bed, letting out a sigh. “Feels good to finally be home.” he mumbles while his face is buried in a pillow. You smile widely. He said home. He thinks of you and this place as home. His words make you insanely happy and want to do flips. Despite having had a great time in Japan, with a girl liking him, he still considered this his home.

“Wanna leave you to get some sleep? I know you had a few stressful days with the whole coming back process.” you ask while shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He nods. “Yeah. Thank you. We will catch up when I wake up. Love you.” he says in a very sleepy voice and you nod, silently leaving his room and entering yours.

And then it hits you.

What did he say?

Did he say what you heard him say?

Did he actually say that?

You’re pretty sure he did.

Are you so down bad for him that you’re starting to imagine him saying this?

That can’t be right.

It’s fine. He loves you as a friend. Friends always say this shit.

Not you two though you never actually said you love each other.

Stop spiralling. He’s your best friend, you’ve known each other for so long, it goes without saying that you love each other. It has gone without saying for so long. And yeah, maybe you love each other in very different ways, but it’s still love. But if he says it more often your heart will break over and over again every time, as being in love with someone and loving someone are so different.

You fall face down onto the bed, letting out an exasperated groan that was muffled by your pillow. Let’s hope this won’t become a usual thing, because the way the words fell out his mouth sounded beautiful.

***

A week has passed since Yunho came back home and you are feeling as if your sanity is slowly leaving you. You are starting to think that he knows you like him and he’s playing a prank on you.

He keeps telling you either muffled or whispered ‘love you’ ’s at different times of the day, but you either pretend you don’t hear him or actually don’t hear him, in which case you ask him what he said and he always says ‘nothing’.

A bit more touchier than usual, which is crazy to say since you are very touchy usually, but here you think you might look into it too much. But you feel like he is closer than usual, his arms rest around your waist for a few seconds longer, you catch him staring more often. When you hang out with your friends he always ends up sitting next to you, with his arm either around your shoulders and dragging you closer to him or with his head resting on your shoulder and snuggling into you, which always makes you a flustered, blushing mess that your friends never comment on or tease you for, since they know the way you feel about Yunho.

Mingi was the first to notice and then everyone else knew about it. Was it that they noticed themselves or Mingi told them, you’ll never know.

And no matter how hard you tried to not fall for it, how hard you tried to convince yourself that this was just what friends did, you just couldn’t. Your first thought was that maybe he liked you, but you gave up on that thought quickly as it made no sense. Your second thought was that maybe he was playing a prank on you, that maybe he found out about your feelings for him and was making fun of you, but again this was very unlikely, Yunho wouldn’t do that, would he? But what else could it be?

These were the thoughts that were drowning your mind as you were at a pub with your friends, being in a situation similar to a past one. On the bench, next to Yunho, his arm casually around your shoulders, pulled close to him, your head resting on his shoulder, one of his hands playing with the ends of your hair while actively participating in the conversation.

Suddenly he laughs with his entire body, as he always does, and that pulls you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You raise your head and look up at him, seeing as he has his head thrown back, laughing loudly, his eyes closed shut and you can’t help but smile. He’s so beautiful, so breathtaking and your heart swells up, your entire being becoming happy and feeling warm and fuzzy. You love him so much and he brings so many pleasant emotions that it makes you sad, melancholic.

He finally lowers his head, having calmed down his laughing and he looks down at you, making eye contact, having the biggest smile on his lips and you feel like you could explode. Yunho’s grip on your shoulders suddenly tightens and he pulls you closer, pressing his lips on your forehead and then pulling back, straightening his head and returning to the conversation your friends were having.

You however, didn’t change your position. Your eyes widened and your mouth opened slightly in surprise, staring at the wall, trying to process what happened. You could still feel his lips on your forehead, so soft. However you could also feel your face heat up and your friends’ eyes on you. You readjust your head and look down at your lap, looking at your hands fidgeting trying to distract yourself and maybe convince yourself that nothing happened, but the lingering sensation on your forehead was telling you otherwise.

Maybe you should talk to Yunho tonight when you get home. Maybe.

You are suddenly very aware of your lack of interaction with your friends, you’ve barely said a word or touched your drink ever since you’ve gotten here hours ago.

You clear your throat and gain everyone’s attention, including Yunho’s, who was looking down at you curiously this time. You make eye contact with the people that are sitting across from you. “I think I will go home now, I have to wake up early tomorrow, but this hangout was fun, we are finally in the complete formation.” is the little white lie you come up with.

After you are done speaking you stand up, Yunho taking his arm away seconds before you stand up, and after you hug everyone goodbye and wish them to continue having fun, promising to meet up again soon, after one final look at Yunho you leave the pub.

Tonight you will talk with Yunho. And you will tell him everything. Because you are starting to feel like he is giving you false hope.

It was around midnight, it was still warm outside but every once in a while a breeze would pass by and cool you down a bit. You didn’t take your car as you thought you’d be drinking more than you did and the pub is kind of close to your house anyway, you should be safe to arrive on your own.

Your head was filled with all the small touches Yunho shared with you throughout the week, but the forehead kiss from tonight was something else, it caught you off guard the most. You were thinking so deeply about it that you didn’t hear Yunho call after you to wait up, which lead to him touching your shoulder to get your attention and startling you, scared it would be a stranger, but as you turn around and instantly make eye contact with someone’s chest you are quick to figure out that it’s Yunho and you look up at him, relieved.

You bring your hand over your heart, feeling it beat very fast, taking a deep breath. “Never do that again, I could’ve died!” you say in an exaggerated tone and you hear him giggle, he puts one of his hands on your and pats you gently. “Oh don’t be dramatic, I tried getting your attention by talking to you but you were deep in thought and didn’t hear me. What were you even thinking about?” he asks as he leans in closer to you, his face inches away, inspecting your face carefully, his breath fanning your face slightly. You look at him mesmerised for more seconds than you would’ve liked and then straighten up, his hand leaving your back and then straightening up again, looking down at you, still waiting for an answer.

‘You have to tell him NOW.’ are the words that keep repeating in your head, the rational part of your brain yelling at you that if you don’t talk to him about it now you will keep postponing it.

‘What if you will ruin your friendship? Who will have to find a new place to stay? What if it will make things awkward? Just come up with something!’ is saying the insecure part of your brain, which usually overpowers any other thought you might have.

But not this time.

You are tired of hanging on to false hope.

Sure, you wanted to talk about it when you got home or maybe tomorrow, but things don’t always go the way we plan.

“Why are you doing this?” you say while looking somewhere behind him. He lets out a confused ‘hm?’, tilting his head slightly, seeing with the corner of your eye how much he looked like a puppy. Oh you’re about to break your own heart.

“All the recent touches, the public affection, all the whispered and muffled things you say that some I can hear. Why are you doing this?”

Silence. Yunho tenses up slightly.

“We’ve always been close, sure, but not this close. At least in my opinion. And don’t get me wrong, I love every second of it but…” you say, taking a deep breath in. What you’re about to say can change your entire relationship. You exhale.

“I know you probably caught on that I like you more than a friend, or probably Mingi told you. But giving me all this false hope in the past weeks has been a double edged sword, because I’m so certain you don’t mean these things the way I wish you did, which is fine. But I’ve been indulging in them, and it hurts.” you continue, feeling a knot forming in your throat and tears filling up your eyes, making them burn.

Still nothing from him. You’re starting to feel anxious.

“I hope this won’t make things awkward between us, I don’t want us to stop being friends or housemates, but could you please stop giving me false hope? It might be fun for you, but I don’t know how much longer I can stand it for.” you say, letting the tears softly fall from your eyes, caressing your cheeks as they fall. You finally look at him. You are done with your speech and waiting for his move now. You said everything, and you feel relieved and burdened at the same time as you wait for a reply, a small part of you hoping for the impossible, hoping that he feels the same way you do. You let out a shaky breath.

His eyes are glossy, he has his lips slightly parted and a confused frown. Yunho opens his mouth a bit more and you close your eyes, as if waiting for a physical impact that his words might have.

“Y/N…” he says as his hands reach for yours. You squeeze your eyes shut. While Yunho is holding your hands gently, he brings them up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, making you open your eyes in surprise. “I’m sorry I made you believe I was toying with you. Or that I made you believe I wasn’t in love with you all this time.” he says and Yunho’s hands let go of yours, making your arms fall limp next to your body. “...What?” you say confused, looking at him bewildered.

Yunho’s big hands cup your face, stopping the tears that gathered around your jaw and with his thumb wiping away any other tears that stained your cheeks. He was slightly leaning over you, you were looking up at him with your eyes teary and shiny and he swore he could see stars in them. He smiles softly at you, caressing your cheek, but you're frozen, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Can I kiss you?” Yunho asks as he leans in more, his forehead almost touching yours, completely towering over you. Your eyes widen. Is this real? Are you imagining it? Is this a dream? You couldn’t care less. You nod your head as you still haven’t found your voice to talk again.

And Yunho wastes no time, leaning in and connecting your lips. And it felt so good, electrifying, sending waves of shocks in your entire body. You were overwhelmed in the best way possible. One of Yunho’s hands travels down to the side of your neck while the other one remains on your face. Yunho was going at your pace, his soft lips following your moves and letting you take the lead and adjust.

You pull away slightly, raising your hands to the back of his neck and making him stick his forehead to yours, making him lean more over you as you were standing on your tippy toes. He pecks your lips once, getting a giggle out of you.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, it really wasn’t my intention. I was trying to make it obvious that I also like you. I was planning on telling you, but I didn’t know when and how and I was overthinking it and spiralling even though I knew you felt the same way and despite ev-” he rambles as he tried to put some space between you two but you drag him back in in a deeper kiss this time. You gently bite his bottom lip, letting him know to open his mouth, which he does immediately, and so your tongue meets his eager one. The kiss is slow, in a way experimental but full of promise, getting used to each other, exploring freely. Until you run out of air and you two have to pull away, panting for air.

“You can be so dumb at times.” you say in a lighthearted tone as you let go of your grip on the back of his neck and go in for a hug, your arms circling his waist and pulling him close, with your head pressed on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Just like a few weeks ago when you picked him up from the airport.

“Says the one that got flustered over every touch I gave them and got jealous when I mentioned Yoko. Are you not the same person that screamed in their pillow like a teenage girl when I told them I love them two weeks ago?” Yunho teases you as he rests his chin on top of your head. You playfully slap his back in response while your cheeks were heating up. So he heard you… Embarrassing.

You stay like that for a bit, hugging him tightly, every once in a while rocking back and forth, Yunho placing kisses on the top of your head while playing with your hair. “I love you, Yunho. So much.” you say as you look at the pavement. You feel his heartbeat pick up and you smile. Cute. “I love you too, princess.” he replies and he squeezes you.

“I wanted to have this talk with you at home not in the middle of the street but I guess this works too…” you say as you pull away, looking up at him in admiration. He brings one of his hands up to your face and fixes your hair. “Let’s go home then.” Yunho replies as he takes a hold of your hand and interlocks your fingers, rubbing circles with his thumb on your hand and starts walking towards your house.

“I’m already there.” you reply, more for yourself, as you look at your intertwined fingers. You’ve been waiting so long for this moment.

yunho... tall...

#ateez #ateez fanfic #jeong yunho #friends to lovers #yunho x reader #ateez yunho #atz fluff #fluff

374 notes · View notes

mirasantidotes · 2 years ago

Text

Messy Annotations - Chapter 1

(GIFs not mine)

Read chapter 2 here

Summary: You meet Javi at your local library and notice he's reading your favorite book. You two hit it off and spend your day together, just talking and getting to know each other before you spend the night at his house on accident.

Character: Javi Gutierrez (TUWOMT)

Content Warnings: very ooc!javi, shy!javi, sunshine!reader, reader has wavy hair, reader lives in spain, very fluffy, reader's love language is touch, implied slight age gap (reader is in their 30s), can be read platonically or romantically, a LOT of blushing (a little too much), reader goes to college later in life, HUGE bookworm!reader, no use of y/n. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Thank you for your notes and compliments on Dance With Me; it means a lot! Also, just send an ask/comment and tell me if you'd like a part 2 to this, I had a lot of fun writing it, and I have a few ideas already for a part 2. If you have any other ideas for fanfics, my asks are open for requests! I hope you all enjoy this; it took me forever to get done, and I had an insanely hard time coming up with how I wanted this fic to turn out. The struggle was totally worth it though; this is probably one of my favorite fics I've written!

All of my posts with an * in the title contain smut, or mentions of it. Minors DNI.

(Divider by saradika)

Living in Spain has been one of your biggest dreams, and you finally moved here for college abroad to work on your infuriating art major, even though you feel like you’re a little old for college now that you’re in your 30s. You’re an underground artist, and you’re just itching to get your work out there to be noticed by the public. You’re an absolute ball of sunshine, and to be fair, you’re the most energetic and outgoing person you know, but, you don’t really know too many people in Spain yet, but that’s beside the point. You really are energetic, though— almost too much. There is one thing that you’re always excited about though, no matter what— reading. Finding new books to binge-read in one sitting is always one of your favorite activities when you have free time. The library cashier is extremely tired of you coming in every week.

Javi Gutierrez, on the other hand, is the polar opposite of you. He’s a shy, new up-and-coming actor who doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life after the success of his first movie. Though fame is finding him well, much more than anticipated, he doesn’t particularly want to make another movie quite yet, now that his co-star, Nic Cage, has left Spain. Even with his newfound fame, he still enjoys going out and doing activities he enjoys, which mainly include going to the local library. He prefers reading in a library than in his own house, alone. He likes the atmosphere the library gives him, but most of all, he loves tucking himself away strategically in the corner of the library window, so he can look out and see the bustling streets of people living their everyday lives.

On a Friday afternoon, you have some free time to yourself, and you, of course, decide to head to your local library. You never go on Fridays— your typical day off is Sunday, but today was different; today was a professor work day at your college, so you had no classes or any assignments to complete, meaning you could spend your whole day reading. You walk into the library happily, as always. The smell of the ink bled into the pages of hundreds of books filled your lungs— a scent you thoroughly enjoyed. You finally pick out a new book that you’ve been eyeing, having heard good things about it online and from the people in your college.

Even though you got what you came for, you couldn’t walk into a library and buy just one book— no, you had to buy at least 5 every time you came in. After picking out your books, you waltz to the cashier, who already appeared annoyed at you being there. A strict, slightly older woman— always had an attitude, but that didn’t let you stop being your energetic, bubbly self to her. “You know, you still need to return the other 10 books, right?” she says, sternness filling her tone.

“Yeah, yeah! I know; I’ll bring them all back next time I come!” you say, smiling widely, setting the books down on the counter. The woman simply rolls her eyes at your response, knowing you’d be back in a few days and she’d have to deal with you again. After she scans the books, the woman tells you, “Your total is going to be €15.75.” €15.75… you think. You only brought €15— you sigh in response; the woman before you, never having heard that sound come out of you, and looked at you like you had 3 heads planted firmly upon your shoulders. You searched your pockets and purse but had no change.

“It’s just 75 cents. Can’t you let it pass this once?” You plead but to no avail. The woman shakes her head harshly, muttering something about ‘library rules,’ but you were too disappointed by her head shake to take care of what she said. You sigh once more— looking around the library; surely somebody would be willing to give you a dollar, right? Right?

You feel increasingly upset the longer you look through the library aisles for someone to ask until your eyes finally land on a gentleman wearing a mustard-colored shirt full of wrinkles. He was sitting in a corner, away from everything, with his legs planted on a footrest and his face hiding behind a book. You hold your finger up to the cashier, signaling for her to wait as she sighs in response. You walk up to the man, “Hey! I hate to ask you this, but I was just checking out, and I’m 75 cents short. Do you mind? It’s okay if not—” you say quickly, trying not to seem too over the top.

The man lowers his book, and a shy pink rose upon his cheeks while nodding slowly. “Um yeah, sure,” he whispers, almost inaudible, as he shifts himself in his seat and reaches into his jeans pocket for some change. He pulls a €5 bill from his pockets and raises his hand for you to take it before settling back into his seat.

You take the bill from between his fingers, grinning brightly— “Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver,” you say, full of enthusiasm. A soft smile washes over the man’s face before nodding, his cheeks still showing a light rose color. You turn on your heel and rush back to the cashier, proudly waving your money in the air. After checking out, the cashier hands you your change, and you grab your books. Before you leave, you turn back and walk toward the man again. He seemed to have heard you coming and had lowered his book just enough to see you already standing there. “Hey again, thank you for lending me some money. Here’s the change!” you say, holding the money out to him, close enough for him to reach it. The man lowers his book into his lap, smiling softly, takes the money from your grasp, and messily pushes the money back into his jeans.

You finally catch a glimpse of the man's entire face, his curly brown hair complimenting his tanned skin and the patchy stubble on his face. You grow curious and look into the man’s lap to see what book he’s reading— and to your surprise, it’s your favorite book ever. “Oh my God,” you exclaim, a little too loud for a library, startling the man slightly and causing him to look at you. After adjusting your tone accordingly, you continue— “that’s my favorite book!”

His face lights up brightly, “Really? That’s awesome,” he enthuses, yelling in a whisper. Just for a moment, he’s brought out of his shy state. He adjusts his position again, sitting forward in his seat and removing his feet from the footrest. “I’ve loved this book since it came out,” he continues, “I’ve never met anyone else who likes it.”

“Yeah, all the books from this author are really good! I especially love this one, though,” you finish, smiling as you sit on the footrest in front of the man, hugging your new books to your chest. The man, shy once more, becomes flustered until “Hey, I was thinking of going to the coffee shop down the street. Do you wanna come with?” you say, tilting your head to the side.

The man’s eyes widened, with even more heat rising into his cheeks— another thing they had in common; coffee. “Yeah, of course,” he enthuses, breaking eye contact just enough to stand up out of his seat while grabbing his bag and placing his book inside of it, “I love that place!” he finishes as he puts the bag messily around his shoulder, looking back at you. He looks down at the books you’re holding in your arms, and as you stand up, he asks, “Do you wanna put your books in my bag? So you don’t have to hold them—” he says softly.

“Yeah, sure! Just don’t steal them for yourself,” you joke, making yourself chuckle before handing him your books. The man blushes at your words, taking the books from your hands and placing them all inside his bag. The two of you walk out of the library, and you wave to the cashier as you leave; she, of course, didn’t wave back. As the two of you walk towards the coffee shop, you get lost in conversation about your favorite books. The walk was the same distance it always was, but with the man walking with you, it felt a lot shorter than usual.

Just as you reach the shop, you stop suddenly. You hadn’t asked the man his name, nor had he asked you. “I forgot to ask, what’s your name?” you say, turning to him, smiling nervously.

“Javi,” he says, his rich, deep voice rings through your ears. A soft laugh escapes your mouth, full of nervousness as you tell the man your name, him joining your chuckles soon after. The two of you sit at one of the tables placed by a window.

The two of you gush over your newfound subjects in common— a not-so-known favorite author and coffee. What could be better? The two of you spend well over an hour hogging up the coffee table, just getting to know each other, until a worker comes and tells you that you have to leave if you aren’t going to buy anything else. The two of you are already so strung out on coffee you both know either of you doesn’t need any more in your system. “Hey, do you wanna come over to my house for a little bit?” Javi asks, “You don’t have to, obviously; I know we just met and—”

You spring your head up at his words; you’ve been having a lot of fun talking to Javi so far; what could it hurt? “Of course!” you interrupt his concerned rambling. He simply smiles in return, picking up the bag under his seat as he stands up. The two of you walk to the door of the coffee shop, “I walked here from my house, so it’s a bit of a walk—” he says, as he opens the door for you to walk out, “I hope that’s okay,” he finishes as he walks out behind you, closing the door.

“Yeah, that’s alright!” you say excitedly as the two of you start walking toward’s Javi’s house. Obviously, you don’t go to random people’s houses like this, but Javi felt— different. He felt trustworthy, considerate, and loving. You’re brought out of your thoughts while on the way there as you spot a flower field to the left of you. You stop walking to look at the view for a moment, Javi noticing almost immediately. He turns back to face you, a slight smile planted on your face. You’ve never been to this area of Spain before, and already, it’s so much more beautiful than where you currently dwell.

Javi looks for a moment at your wavy hair, lightly being blown in the sunset’s wind, the sun glowing brightly in the backdrop of you, lighting illuminating your features. As he realizes he’s been staring, he clears his throat and fixes his shirt before stepping toward you. Just as he reaches your side, you look at him. “It’s beautiful,” you declare, still looking at the field. Javi looks at you and nods, “Yeah, it is.” before turning his head to look where your eyes were fixated. Suddenly, you interlink your arm with his, tugging at him to follow you into the field. “Come on, let’s pick some flowers,” you say, excitement filling your body, with a slight red washing across your face as you unlink your arm, running your hand down to hold his, as you turn around to face him while walking backward as laughter fills the air. Javi blushes at the sight of you for what seems like the millionth time today— as you two reach relatively far from the path you were previously walking, you let go of Javi’s hand, your body missing his touch.

You bend down near a patch of red carnations, picking a flower and lifting it to your nose, smelling the sweet yet subtle clove-like scent and letting it fill your body, making you feel warm inside. You stand back up and turn around to see Javi standing behind you, hands in his pockets with the corners of his lips upturned softly, causing gentle wrinkles to form around his dark-colored eyes. You walk up to him and place the flower behind his ear, letting his soft curls hug around the stem to hold it in place— light pink creeps up his neck and onto his cheeks once more.

You giggle at his face, full of awe— you break your gaze from his kind face enough to look up into the sky, causing Javi to do the same. You notice it’s getting late, and just as you’re about to say you should get going to Javi’s house, he speaks, “It’s getting late; we should hurry before it gets too dark,” his deep voice with his rich accent echoing through your ears as if honey had a sound— making your cheeks flush.

You simply nod in agreement while holding your hand out for him to take it. He has to look back between your hand and your face a few times before finally taking it in his own, making a few soft chuckles escape your mouth, causing him to do so too. After about 20 minutes of walking, the bright orange rays shining behind you slowly disappear until finally reaching it’s end, and the lightness of the moon begins peeking out from the horizon. The two of you reach Javi’s home, and God— was it beautiful. You wouldn’t admit it, but you felt slightly jealous while walking into his pristine villa home when you’re reminded of your small college dorm.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” he asks, breaking the non-awkward silence the two of you had throughout your walk.

“Sure! Water’s fine,” you reply happily, looking at all of the knick-knacks Javi had littered throughout his home. Javi returns with your water in hand, nearly running to get back to you.

After handing it to you, he speaks up, “Do you wanna go sit on the couch— or?” he says, his voice laced with a sort of sweetness that makes your body tingle. You nod in response, taking a sip from your water. Javi guides you to his living room; the large room before you opens up as he turns on moody, orange lights that remind you of the sunset you saw a mere hour ago. It feels homey— welcoming, and warm. Something you don’t experience at your own college house. Javi walks over to the couch, covered in soft blankets and a few pillows, and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. You follow closely behind, sitting close to him, your knees almost brushing against each other as you sink into your seat.

Javi hums as if he’s forgotten something essential and stands up without saying anything. He disappears into the other room, leaving you there. After a few moments, he returns— an old worn book in his hands. “This is one of my favorite books,” he says, sitting back down next to you, “I want you to read it,” he finishes softly, looking at you while motioning for you to take it. You oblige— surprisingly, it’s a book you’ve never read, so of course, you’d be willing. You open the book to the first page, glancing at it, then turning over a few pages before running your fingers through each and every page, noticing messily written notes and scribbles written out into the worn margins. You absolutely adore annotated books, and it’s one of your favorite pastimes, besides actually reading the book in the first place.

You let a few chuckles escape your mouth as you look up to see Javi’s relieved expression grow on his face after your silence. You reach over to hug him quickly, causing him to laugh too, his hand resting on your upper back. You pull away, returning your attention to the book, positioning yourself cross-legged before him, sinking into your seat even more. “Can I read it now?” you ask, smiling, still not looking at him but skimming the first page's notes.

“Of course,” he says simply, smiling. You start reading immediately— resting your head on the side of the couch. You point out a few rather silly remarks he’s written down on the first page, causing you both to giggle. You spend well over an hour just reading the pages of the book, occasionally engaging in a conversation about what you’re reading, Javi being just as fascinated with it as you are, if not more which makes you chuckle. After a while, a “Can I lay my head on your lap?” escapes your mouth, looking at Javi for consent. He nods as his face heats up, and you lay down, the book above your face, as you two still talk about the notes he’s made and the careless actions the main character makes in the book.

About halfway through the book, you hear Javi’s stomach grumble something mean, causing you to laugh. “You hungry?” you ask sarcastically, looking at him, letting a few more chuckles escape your mouth. You receive a nod as he joins in on your laughter, a slight tint of embarrassment hidden within as he hides his face behind his hands. You lift your head off his lap, setting the book down on the couch, not leaving the page you left off on. “You should eat,” you say softly.

“Yeah,” he pauses, thinking. “Do you want some cake? That’s what I’m going to have,” he finishes, looking over at you, eyes glistening in the light’s warm tones that fill the room.

You smile, “That sound’s perfect!” you say, nodding. He stands up, whispering a quiet ‘okay’ sound before disappearing into the other room once more before returning a few minutes later with two plates, each with red velvet cake and a napkin on each. You let out a small squeak at the sight, making your mouth water slightly at the richly flavored cake. As you two are eating, Javi finishes rather quickly, and you notice frosting on his face he doesn’t seem to notice. You pick up your napkin to wipe it off, his cheeks turning visibly red, as does yours, the both of you gigging.

Once you finish your cake, you set both plates down on the coffee table, along with the book, and lay your head back down on his lap. “Wanna watch some TV?” you ask, looking up at his face and into his eyes as he meets yours.

“Sure thing,” he says, nodding while looking down at your face before reaching for the remote to turn on the TV. After an hour of watching the show, you fall asleep, head still resting in his lap. He notices shortly after when he hears the soft snores that escape your mouth, which is slightly agape. He smiles at the sight, lowering his hand down to brush some of the hair out of your face. He feels your cold skin and grabs the blanket from behind you that was messily thrown over the couch’s back, and lays it over your body, causing you to stir slightly in your sleep. He lowers the volume of the TV so as to not wake you up.

Shortly after, he looks down at your sleeping state, whispering a light "Goodnight, hermosa (beautiful)," before he leans back onto the couch deeper, sighing contently, before falling asleep for the night, with you in a deep sleep on his lap.

254 notes · View notes

featherymalignancy · 1 year ago

Text

CHAPTER TEN—In Vino Veritas: A Nessian Story

Summary: Nesta Archeron is convinced she has everything she wants: a law degree from an ivy, a prestigious job, a gorgeous boyfriend, and excellent taste in wine. However, when she wanders into her local wine vendor and meets a handsome stranger unafraid to play her quick-witted games, she begins to wonder if the life she’s built is really the one she wants.

Cash Kahukore worked his entire adolescent life to become a sommelier, ignoring the slurs his mixed heritage have always earned him as he fought his way to the top. However, after five years abroad buying for Michelin star restaurants and dealing with rich white assholes, he’s grown bored with his life. When a gorgeous lawyer comes in to his uncle’s shop one afternoon, he immediately recognizes a worthy opponent in her. Undaunted by her sharp tongue and possessive boyfriend, he’s determined to be her friend, and—as time goes on and their circumstances change—possibly something more.

Check out the In Vino Masterlist HERE

This a prequel to Navy Suits and Chelsea Boots that takes place three years before. If you love Elriel (and don’t mind finding out how this story ends) check it now.

Chapter 10, Pt. 1: Dom Perignon

Though Nesta had spent the better part of a week attempting to rationalize the feeling away, by Friday afternoon she could no longer deny it: she was nervous.

Ordinarily, meeting new people didn’t scare Nesta. Winning over strangers was literally part of her job, after all, and her record in court suggested she was rather good at getting strangers to trust her. Compared to some of the juries Nesta had faced, meeting one of her boyfriend’s best friends should—in theory—have been a cakewalk.

Except that Rhysand Sadeghi was no ordinary stranger, and Nesta couldn’t deny that he had several distressingly valid reasons for not liking her. Cash had never given her any details about his weekend with Azriel and Rhys in Vegas and Nesta had never asked, in large part because she selfishly didn’t want to know what ungenerous things he may of said about her while under the influence of alcohol and the pain she’d caused him.

Still, Rhys had seemed supportive enough when Cash and Nesta first went public with their relationship two months ago, which would have been enough to assuage the worst of Nesta’s fears about meeting him had she not also surmised from Cash’s many stories that the Sadeghi family prized loyalty above everything else, and that their good opinion, once lost, was difficult to regain. She wasn’t naive enough to think that a few flame emojis on an instagram post meant that Rhys genuinely approved of her. Despite Cash’s assurances to the contrary, Nesta could see Rhys’s current trip to the States for what it really was: a test.

When she’s suggested as much to Cash, he’d merely laughed, explaining that Rhys was coming to California to finalize an acquisition deal he’d been trying to close for months, and that he’d only decided to extend his trip and stay the weekend after Cash had suggested it.

It was a plausible enough story, Nesta supposed, and she might have even been tempted to accept it was true had Rhys been traveling alone.

Except he wasn’t coming alone.

Seemingly unsatisfied with the prospect of interrogating her one-on-one, Rhys had summoned what felt like a tribunal of Cash’s closest friends, including Mor and Azriel, despite the fact the former allegedly hating getting involved with the family’s real estate business and the latter lived over six hours away.

Even Rowan was supposedly coming to their gathering this evening, and though Nesta might have otherwise been relieved to have him there as a potential ally, she felt she knew him well enough to understand that if Rowan was going to a nightclub, it was likely because Aelin was forcing him. Nesta had still yet to formally meet Aelin thanks to the latter's current AVP tournament schedule, and despite the role Nesta had played in saving Nehemiah from deportation, Aelin still remained very much a wildcard.

As did Mor.

She’d been warm and perfectly friendly the first time Nesta met her, but things had admittedly been very different then. And now…

Nesta knew that Mor was one of Cash’s fiercest defenders, and she hadn’t deluded herself into thinking Mor would ever forgive her for what Nesta had put Cash through that night at Tonga Room, even if she didn’t know all the ugly details.

Then again, maybe Mor would understand. From the little Cash had shared about her romantic history, Nesta had gathered that Mor had first-hand experience with abusive relationships. Perhaps if the opportunity presented itself this evening, Nesta could get Mor one-on-one. She knew that she had nothing to apologize for, but perhaps if she could explain her side of things, she and Mor could move past all the messiness and possibly start over. Maybe, with enough time and patience, they could even become... friends .

The idea filled Nesta with a dangerous sort of hope, and she found by the time that she got home to the townhouse she and Cash now shared that she was actually somewhat looking forward to seeing where the evening might take them.

Kicking off her stilettos, Nesta gave her grandmother’s beloved bookcase an affectionate pat as she headed up the stairs to the main floor, calling for Cash as she did.

“You still here, Mister?”

Yet another complication of the evening: Cash—who was in the final stage of interviews for the coveted North American brand manager position at Dom Pérignon—had been invited to a last-minute dinner with one of the company top executives, who’d flown in from Reims specifically for the meeting. Thrilled as Nesta was for Cash—particularly now that Devon was home and back running The Merchant full-time—she couldn’t help but be nervous for the two or so hours she’d be spending with his friends sans Cash.

Nesta glanced at her watch and frowned. It was barely six o’clock, and the reservation wasn’t until nine-fifteen; surely he hadn’t left already. Checking her phone to ensure he hadn’t texted her, she made to call out again before hearing the rumble of his voice coming from the third floor.

Abandoning her cell phone and purse on the dining room table, Nesta headed up the stairs, listening with increasing worry as Cash’s voice grew louder.

He was in the study speaking to someone via video chat through the tv which had been mounted to the wall, and as Nesta drew closer, she heard an uncharacteristic bite in Cash’s tone that instantly had her good mood curdling to worry.

“If you didn’t want to come,” he was saying, voice harder than usual. “You could have at least been straight-up with me about it, instead of putting on this dog-and-pony show just to punish me—”

“Don’t be dramatic. I didn’t plan this, and I certainly didn’t do it to punish you.”

Nesta knew that voice—that lovely, posh accent, so much colder now than the first time she’d heard it.

Mor.

And if she was on the phone, it meant she couldn’t be on a plane, and if she wasn’t on a plane, then that meant—

Nesta’s shame spiral was interrupted by the sound of Cash’s brittle laughter.

“Oh I see. To punish Nesta, then.”

Mor was silent for a moment, her voice softer but no less fierce when she finally said, “I’m not trying to punish her, either, but can you honestly tell me she wouldn’t deserve it if I was?”

Nesta’s heart sank, dragging her down with such brutal force that she had to lean against the wall to keep her balance. Every fear she’d had about meeting Cash’s friends came flooding back to the surface, and she felt the guilt she’d been trying to swallow these past months rising like bile in her throat, acrid enough to make her mouth water.

“I don’t have to justify myself to you and neither does she,” Cash said. “Jesus, what is your problem?”

Mor gave a soft snort of disgust, her own patience seemingly frayed by Cash’s accusatory tone.

“Oh, so now I’m the villain? Even though she's the one who strung you along then broke your trust? Look, I get that she’s been through a lot and that you always want to see the best in people, but sometimes you’ve got to do the selfish thing and put yourself first.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Cash demanded.

“It means that having a shitty ex—even an abusive one—isn’t an excuse for treating others badly! I’ve known a million girls just like her, and I’ve seen how this story ends. She’s a taker, and if you let her, she will take and take and take from you until there’s nothing left.”

Mor’s words struck Nesta like a blow, driving straight to the fear that most often plagued her about her relationship: that she was selfish for still wanting Cash after everything she’d put him through, and that by continuing to be with him, she was proving she cared more for herself than she did him.

Six months ago, that one thought would have been enough to send Nesta spiraling into panic and self-doubt. Today—despite the pain—she managed to catch herself, rooting down in the knowledge that what she and Cash now had, they’d built together .

Cash—for his part—seemed equally as unwilling to allow the comment to find its mark.

“You don’t know her, though. You don’t know a goddamn thing about her, because if you did, you’d understand what an absolute dickhead you’re being right now.”

Mor gave a tight, almost-pained, sigh.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m telling you because I care about you and I’m worried.”

“Well you have a shitty way of showing it,” Cash snapped. “I love this girl, Mor! Does that really mean so little to you?”

It had apparently been the wrong thing to say, because when she finally spoke again, Mor’s voice had gone cold enough to burn.

“Do what you want, then,” she said flatly. “I’m not going to pretend I’m fine with this just because no one else has the bollocks to tell you the truth.”

There was a pause before Cash replied, voice softer but no less edged, “You’re way out of line right now; if you don’t want to admit it to me, I hope you can at least find the courage to admit it to yourself.”

“Fine,” Mor said. “Anything else?”

“Actually yes,” Cash said, a renewed bite in his tone. “While we’re on the subject of messing about in other people’s business, get off Az’s back . He’s never going to be able to open up enough to meet someone when he’s terrified you won’t approve of anyone he picks.”

Mor’s answering laugh was acerbic, and though Nesta didn’t know her well, the bitterness in her tone didn’t seem to suit the bright, kind women Nesta remembered meeting all those months ago.

“Why, so he can meet a girl like Nesta?”

“You wanna lose me? Stay one more cruel thing about her, I fucking dare you.”

“Cash—”

“Goodbye Morrigan.”

Nesta listened as Cash ended the call before swearing to himself, the sound partially muffled as he presumably buried his head in his hands.

Nesta remained where she was, debating if she ought to just sneak back downstairs and pretend she hadn’t heard any of what had just been said. It would be easier for Cash if he could keep believing he’d managed to shield Nesta from the worst of Mor’s scorn.

Nesta’s mind was nearly made up when she recalled the look on Cash’s face as he’d begged her not to lie to him anymore, even in the service of protecting his feelings.

It was that promise which gave Nesta the courage to finally move, deliberately shuffling her bare feet along the rug in the hallway to alert him of her presence before pausing in the doorway.

Cash raised his head, his tender expression managing to slightly lessen the current ache in Nesta’s chest.

“Hi,” she said, leaning her head against the wall as she took him in.

“Hi,” he said, seeming to study her with the same intensity. “How much of that did you catch?”

She shrugged, not bothering to hide the truth of it in her eyes.

“Enough,” she admitted.

Cash swore softly before extending his arms to her.

“Can I hold you?”

That he’d asked—that he’d cared enough to seek her permission instead of simply reaching for her—soothed a part of Nesta she’d hadn’t realized was still healing.

Wordlessly she crossed to him, sinking into his lap and breathing in his inviting masculine scent.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Don’t be,” she said, fighting to keep the emotion out of her voice. “I understand.”

“No, please don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t internalize this.”

“She's not wrong, Cash.”

“Yes she is!” he said, his voice firm. Still, his touch remained gentle as he reached to cup her cheeks. “What happened at Tonga was between us , and we’ve moved past it! Besides—”

He let out a sigh.

“Look, this doesn’t excuse her behavior, but this isn’t about you. Mor’s got plenty of her own baggage she’s yet to fully square up with, and sometimes I think she chooses to get overly-invested in other people’s problems to avoid having to deal with her own.”

“I understand why she doesn’t care for me,” Nesta said. “If the situations were reversed, I’d likely feel the same way. I just—I don’t want you to lose friends because of me.”

“I haven’t lost anything,” Cash assured her. “Mor and I have been in much nastier fights than this before and we’ve always managed to patch things up. Besides, if she truly isn’t willing to give the woman I love a chance, she isn’t the friend I thought she was.”

Nesta nodded, desperate to take comfort in what he’d said about Mor and move on. Still, hearing the righteous venom Mor harbored had felt to Nesta the way she assumed opening that damned box had made Pandora feel, and now that the floodgates had been opened, she found there was one fear in particular she couldn’t shake.

Unable to suppress the urge any longer, she finally asked, “And Aelin?”

“Aelin?” Cash asked, brows knitting. “What about her?”

“Please don’t play dumb,” Nesta said, hating the slight pleading in her voice. “I assume she hates me, too.”

Cash gave a wry smile that she couldn’t help but be slightly assuaged by.

“On the contrary, Aelin has been picking out our wedding china since before we were even dating.”

Nesta huffed a laugh, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“And next to Rowan, Nehemiah is hands-down the most important person in Aelin’s life. Regardless of what she may have thought before, I guarantee that after what you did to help NeNe, you have a friend for life in Aelin.”

“I’m sorry,” Nesta said. “For causing all this. I didn’t—”

She broke off, and though Cash waited for her to finish, she realized after a beat she didn't actually know what to say.

“Nesta,” Cash said softly. “I love you. Nothing anyone else says will change my mind about that, and I am never going to let anyone tear you down, whether you think you deserve it or not.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Nesta asked, tucking a strand of dark hair that had come loose behind his ear.

Cash answering grin was soft and achingly lovely.

“Should I go alphabetically or chronologically?”

Nesta brushed his lips with the pads of her fingers, her own smile growing as well. It never ceased to amaze her how easily he could change her mood.

“Chronologically.”

“Okay,” Cash said, tugging her more fully into his lap so he could kiss her neck. “Then how about this morning in the shower?”

With similar schedules and a dual-head shower in the master bath, they showered together most mornings, a simple ritual that had nonetheless become one of Nesta’s favorites.

Most days they merely shared the space in contented silence, focusing on their own tasks and only speaking to request the other fetch the shampoo or pass the body wash. However, when Nesta glanced over that morning just in time to watch Cash tip his head back to rinse his hair, water cascading down his toned back and over his gorgeously sculpted ass, she hadn’t been able to resist. Pushing him against the wall, she’d gotten on her knees and sucked him off until his eyes had rolled back in his head.

They’d ended up staying in the shower until the water had gone tepid after that.

“That was mutual,” she reminded him.

Cash grinned, leaning up to kiss her neck again.

“The sounds you make when I fuck your ass honestly make me feel like I’ve won the lottery,” he said against her skin.

“I know,” she said with a smirk, moving to slide off his lap. “You should probably start getting ready. You need to leave in an hour and a half.”

Cash was undeterred by her prudence.

“That’s plenty of time,” he breathed, hitching up the pencil skirt she wore and toying with the waistband of her black silk thong. “Take these off and let me make you feel good.”

Nesta dug her nails into his toned shoulders, grinding against him almost involuntarily.

“Here?” She asked, distracted by the fact he was already growing hard beneath her.

“Study’s still on the list.”

It was a tempting offer, and though part of Nesta badly needed the distraction, the lingering guilt over what she’s wrought between Cash and Mor kept the worst of her selfish impulses in check.

“You went down on me in here last week,” she pointed out in deflection.

Cash, unsurprisingly, wasn’t deterred by this explanation.

“True,” he agreed. “But your sister called before I could make you come, so it doesn’t count,” he said, tugging her thong up until the fabric was roughly splitting her. “Don’t make me beg, gorgeous.”

She couldn’t hold back the groan when he gave another her thong coaxing tug, the material brushing against her unsheathed clit.

“I like when you beg,” she said, already growing breathless from his machinations.

“What’s coincidence,” he said, leaning forward to nip at her ear. “I like when you beg, too.”

“I don’t beg,” she said, not quite ready to give up their little game despite her own growing anticipation for what was sure to follow.

Cash’s answering laugh was pure sin.

“Don’t tempt me to make a liar out of you, Nes. We both know that I could have you crawling on hands and knees for me if I wanted, and that you’d enjoy every sweet second of it.”

Nesta only smirked in response, sliding off his lap in a way that made him groan in pleasure. Slowly she retreated to the opposite wall before shucking the thong off from beneath her pencil skirt and kicking it to his feet in offering.

Cash settled further into the plush velvet couch in answer, arms draped across the back and legs casually splayed.

“Good girl. Now everything else,” he said in a silken command.

She flashed him a tarty, ‘fuck-me’ smile.

“Everything?”she repeated.

He studied her with a stark male appreciation that made her instantly wet, his gaze slithering from her bare feet to the chignon still wound into her hair.

“You can leave the earrings.”

“How generous,” she said, easing the hem of her silk blouse out from where it had been tucked into her skirt and beginning to unbutton it.

Cash made a soft sound of appreciation as she finally slid the garment from her shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby club chair.

His eyes glazed a bit as she reached behind her back to unfasten her bra next. When the clasp came free, she tossed the frilly scraps of evergreen lace into his lap.

Though he hadn’t moved from his languid position on the couch, Nesta could clearly make out the consequence of her teasing as it pushed against the front of Cash’s trousers.

“Don’t stop,” he urged, voice midnight soft now.

Nesta obeyed, pulling the clip from her hair and giving it a soft shake before finally reaching for the zipper of her skirt. Cash was practically panting by the time Nesta began easing the garment down her thighs, and when she straightened to reveal her completely bare form, his eyes were dark with hunger.

He surveyed her for a moment without comment, head slightly cocked as he admired her beneath the soft glow of the office’s recessed lighting. His gaze was like warm honey, sweetly clinging to every place on her body it touched. She felt her own desire coming alive under his unceasing attention, and she rubbed her legs together to ease the ache which had begun to throb between them.

Sensing her impatience he finally rose, advancing on her with quiet intent before pushing her against the bookcase which had been built into the wall and kissing her. She moaned as he eased his tongue into her mouth, the soft material of his shirt brushing against her bare chest as he strung an arm around her waist and tugged her more fully into him.

She moaned again when his hand finally found its way between her thighs, but he only spared her a teasing stroke or two before coaxing her legs around his waist, carrying her to the center of the room and easing her onto the sheepskin rug.

She might have objected to being naked on the floor had the cleaning woman not been there the day before. Cash must have thought the same because he laughed; not at her, but in a way that told it safe to let go.

“Relax for me, sweetheart,” he said, lips brushing a spot on her neck which instantly had her melting.

Noting the change, he huffed another soft laugh onto her skin, lightly grazing the same spot with his teeth before breathing, “good girl.”

Nesta wasn’t ashamed to admit what praise did for her in bed, but she had little time to revel in Cash’s words before he was easing his way down her body, lips brushing her ribs and the crease of her hip before his tongue lazily found its way directly between her legs.

She swore at the first contact, her fingers finding their way into the dark water of his hair and tugging as he applied a small amount of pressure just where she needed him.

She could still hear Mor’s venomous rebuke ringing in her ears, but the words grew fainter with each careful stroke of Cash’s tongue, her conscious mind yielding to pure sensation.

Despite the time constraint, Cash remained unhurried in his task, and Nesta was weak-kneed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat by the time release finally found her.

Cash pulled back slightly to survey her, a satisfied smirk tugging at his full mouth when he brushed a finger down her torso and she trembled in response.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he breathed, bending to kiss her.

“What time—” she began, but he cut her off with another kiss.

“It’s 7:15,” he said against her lips. “You still have plenty of time to get ready.”

However, when he attempted to pull back she dug her nails into his shoulders to keep him close.

“Take your clothes off. I need you inside of me.”

His answering laugh skimmed across her bare skin like silk.

“As my lady commands.”

“Now, pleasant,” she said, pressing a teasing foot to the center of his chest and nudging him back.

Cash laughed again before rising to his feet and beginning to undress. When he peeled off his shirt, her hand found its way between her legs almost of its own volition, moving lazily as she drank him in.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” he said, hands at his belt buckle now. “keep going.”

“I’d rather have your fingers between my legs,” she admitted.

He chuckled.

“I wouldn’t. You know what watching you get yourself off does to me.”

“Maybe sometime you’ll let me watch you, Handsome.”

They hadn’t experimented with mutual masturbation yet, but it was on Nesta’s list.

By now Cash had shed his boxer briefs to reveal—unsurprisingly—that he was fully ready for her.

“I could come just from the way you look at me,” he said, stroking himself as he once again knelt to join her.

Before she could protest, he put his head between her thighs again, tongue focused solely on her clit as he continued working himself. When she felt herself begin to tip over the edge he pulled back, pressing a hand to the crease of her hip and sinking into her in a single motion.

It was timed perfection she could only marvel at. In several quick thrusts the head of his cock scraped her g-spot just as her orgasm had been ready to fade, and she came hard.

“That’s it,” he said as she clenched around him, trembling. “Squeeze me, Nes.”

She panted as the sensations continued to ripple through her.

“How did you even—“

“Because I know this body even better than you do,” he said. “ Fuck , that was so hot to watch.”

“Ride me,” Nesta demanded in response. “Hard.”

“Flip over,” he said.

She did, and he wasted no time in sinking inside of her again, one foot braced on the carpet for better leverage as he grabbed her hips.

“Keep touching yourself.”

“I’m not going to be able to come again,” she said.

“We’ll see about that. Go on Lovely, do it for me.”

Her clit was still throbbing from his earlier machinations so Nesta kept her touch featherlight as he began to move. Instead of thrusting forward into her, Cash instead pulled her back onto him while Nesta rocked her weight in the opposite direction to create tension. It was a rhythm they’d discovered early on in their sexual odyssey, and the friction was blinding for both of them.

The room filled with the sound of their bodies as they came together, and Nesta could feel the swing of Cash’s stones against her ass as he thrust, a depraved sensation that drove her out of her mind with want.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she demanded.

“I’m thinking that if this rug wasn’t three grand, I’d be tempted to pull out and come all over you.”

“You’re close?”

“Oh God , yes.”

Nesta couldn’t help but preen at that.

“Keep talking,” she demanded, always greedy for as much of him as she could get.

And Cash, God love him, was always just as eager to oblige.

“Do you know why I like to go down on you right before we have sex?”

“Tell me.”

His thrusts increased in intensity, a sign he was close.

“Because your gorgeous little cunt is so tight, I’m never sure if I’ll be able to last long enough to give you an orgasm.”

“You’ve given me tons of vaginal orgasms,” Nesta panted.

“Only through sheer power of will. Fuck , Nes.”

She threw her hips back into Cash’s a final time and he was a goner.

He kneaded her ass with a firm grip as he emptied himself inside her, and though Nesta felt herself going boneless as the pleasure Cash had thrust her into finally began to relax its hold.

Fisting her hair, Cash coaxed her head back for a soft kiss before pulling out and slapping her ass.

“Go jump in the shower, I’ll join you in a second.”

Nesta rose to her feet, keeping her thighs neatly tucked to avoid making a mess of the carpet after all. Cash marked the gesture before rewarding it with a cocky, bone-melting smirk. The Nesta of a year ago would have snarled at him for the stark appreciation shining in his eyes; today she could only marvel that he seemed to find her as desirable as she found him.

A beat of comfortable silence passed as they remained drinking one another in, and when Nesta’s gaze finally met Cash’s again, it was to find his expression had faded to something almost reverent, though the hunger remained.

“I know it probably makes me a total caveman, but I never get tired of seeing you full of me like that.”

The admission was so stark and primal that Nesta felt her belly clenching pleasantly.

“Maybe it does,” she agreed. “But I’m too much of a junkie for that look you’re giving me to care.”

Cash laughed.

“She digs the caveman vibe; good to know.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, even as she laughed a little herself.

“Don’t push it,” she said, turning to the door and slipping down the hall to the bathroom.

Despite his promise, Nesta more than halfway through her post-sex shower ritual by the time Cash joined her, his touch warming her skin in a way the water alone never could.

“Are you going to miss me while I’m at dinner?” He asked, kissing her neck.

“Of course,” she said, leaning in as he nipped playfully at her ear.

“How much?”

“Enough that I’m still debating if I ought to call a bomb threat into Mastro’s so dinner will have to be postponed.”

Normally Cash would have simply laughed at that, but he must have heard something in Nesta’s tone, because he pulled away slightly so he could study her, a frown tugging at his sensuous lips.

“Are you seriously nervous about tonight, because you have no reason to be; everyone is going to love you.”

“Everyone except Mor, you mean.”

Cash’s frown deepened, though his gaze remained almost unbearably tender.

“Don’t worry about her.”

“How can I not?”

“Nes—“

“It’s fine,” she said, slipping past him to grab her towel. She turned, forcing a smile as she reassured him, “I’m fine.”

She left before he could push the issue, trying to focus on getting ready as a means of distraction from Mor’s voice still echoing on repeat in her head.

Cash, for his part, seemed to sense she didn’t want to be pushed, because she was nearly through drying her hair by the time he finally re-emerged, dressed in a burgundy sport coat and slacks, his own hair pulled back in his typical style.

He didn’t immediately speak, simply leaned against the doorframe and watched her as she finished her hair and moved onto her makeup.

She allowed his silent assessment for as long as she could bear before glancing up at him in the mirror and snapping, “what?”

Her tone was slightly sharper than she would have liked, but she was still learning how to accept his concern without defensiveness.

“Do you want me to cancel dinner?”

At this she stopped what she was doing, turning from her vanity to face him fully.

“Are you insane?”

“Gabriel already told me last week that I’m Dom’s top choice. If that’s true, then they will understand—”

“I’m sure it is true!” she interrupted. “But how could you possibly think I’d let you take that risk? Especially over something so trivial.”

“Your emotional safety isn’t trivial,” he said quietly. “Not to me.”

She felt herself softening at that, especially as she noted the unbearable tenderness which had crept into his expression.

“I know that,” she said. “But you should know that I would never let you give up something this important for my sake.”

“Fair enough,” he said, but before she could revel in the knowledge he wouldn’t be risking his career over something as petty and inconsequential as her feelings, he added, “then don’t go tonight. You can meet my friends another time.”

Nesta couldn’t hold back the surprised laugh which slipped out, the sound brittle even to her ears.

“And how will that look? You can’t make it so I just decide to bail?”

“I don’t really give a shit how it looks. I only care that you are alright.”

“I am,” she assured him, and seeing that she’d yet to fully convince him, she added, “At least, I’m getting there. I know what tonight means to you, and that’s important to me! Besides, I want a chance to get to know your friends and for them to get to know me. I can’t do that if I spend the rest of our relationship casually hiding from them.”

Cash’s expression didn’t change, but Nesta could tell the idea pleased him, which only hardened her resolve to see things through.

“You’re sure?” He said.

“Seeing as we already know that my biggest detractor won’t be there, how bad can it be?” Nesta said, turning back and flashing him a sardonic smirk in the mirror.

“Too soon,” Cash said with a huffed laugh, coming over to kiss her cheek before adding more quietly, “I love you.”

In lieu of responding, she reached back to string a hand around his neck, scraping her nails along the nape in a gesture she knew soothed him.

They remained there for a long moment in comfortable silence before Cash gently extricated himself.

“I’ll let you finish getting ready,” he said. “I’m not leaving for another twenty minutes.”

Nesta nodded, leaning into him for another kiss on the cheek before attending to her makeup.

Cash was sitting at the kitchen island reviewing LVMH’s latest earning statement when Nesta finally emerged, the soft rustle of her sequined mini dress the only sound as Cash eyed her appreciatively.

“You like?” She asked, reaching the landing and giving a turn to show the open back and dangerously-short hem. “It’s new.”

“You look stunning,” he replied, eyes twinkling. “Though I would argue that has very little to do with the dress.”

She rolled her eyes even as she draped an arm over his shoulders and settled into his lap. She didn’t miss the way his gaze flitted to the forbidden stretch of thigh which was revealed as her skirt rode up to accommodate the new position.

“I assume LVMH is sending a car?”

Cash nodded, smoothing a hand down said thigh and causing Nesta’s skin to tingle.

“Should be here in five.”

She nodded, preparing to ask if he was ready for the meeting when he spoke first.

“Okay, last offer, hear me out.”

“Cash—” she began, attempting to stand up even as he coaxed her to remind where she was.

“I can tell Az we’ll just meet him at the club, then you can hang out here and wait for me and we can go toge—”

“Don’t do that, he’s probably already on his way,” Nesta cut in. “And I said I’ll be fine, so I will be. Just…stop, please.”

Cash opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue before his phone dinged, signaling his driver had arrived.

“Go,” she said, sliding to her bare feet. “You don’t want to be late.”

After a final moment’s hesitation he did the same, straightening his slacks as she grabbed his sports coat from the back of a nearby stool and held it out for him.

He obliged her, slipping his arms through and shrugging it on as Nesta came around to adjust the collar. She sometimes forgot just how much taller he was than her when she wasn’t in her typical heels, and she had to rise to her tip-toes to kiss him.

“Go kill it,”she said against his lips. “You’ve earned this.”

He brushed his nose against hers in response, an affectionate gesture that still made butterflies dance in Nesta’s stomach every time.

She could tell that Cash was fighting with the urge to offer her one final out on the evening’s festivities, but she was grateful when he chose to simply kiss her instead.

“Have fun with the boys,” he said. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour or two behind you.”

“Take you time,” she said firmly. “From everything you’ve shared, I don’t see Rhysand ending the party anytime before daybreak.”

“How very terrifying and true,” he said, eyes full of all the things still left unsaid as he grabbed his phone, blew her a kiss, and jogged down the stairs to the front door.

Nesta felt some of the fight go out of her as she listened to the door open and shut, the telltale chime of the security system being re-armed echoing up a second later.

The plan to have Azriel meet them at the townhouse for drinks prior to joining up with Rhys and the rest of their cabal had been made before Cash had known he’d be entertaining the Dom execs, and though Nesta had been adamant that they needn’t change the plan simply because Cash wouldn’t be there, she couldn’t help but wonder at her own stubbornness as she waited nervously for Azriel to arrive.

On the one hand, Nesta’s initial interaction with Azriel had been entirely pleasant, and had left her with an adequate degree of certainty that—despite the Owen debacle—she and Az could get on just fine without Cash present to act as a buffer.

However, Mor’s assessment earlier had challenged any confidence Nesta may have had when it came to Cash’s friends. Perhaps she’d been arrogant to think that Rhys and Aelin were the only one she had to be worried about winning over tonight, even with Mor temporarily out of the picture. After all, Rhys may have been Mor’s cousin, but it was clear to Nesta that Azriel and Mor had some kind of history.

Cash had never fully explained what—if anything—had gone down between them, but Nesta had always gotten the sense from his stories that Azriel had carried a torch for Mor at some point. It was only just occurring to Nesta that he very well still could. Perhaps all of Azriel’s seemingly meaningless flings were just a distraction from the girl he wanted but couldn’t have.

And even if he didn’t have romantic feelings for her, it was clear that Mor’s opinion was incredibly important to Azriel.

What was it that Cash had said earlier?

He’s never going to be able to open up enough to meet someone when he’s terrified you won’t approve of anyone he picks.

If Mor voiced her concerns about Nesta to Cash, it was entirely possible (and indeed fairly probable) that she’d shared the same—or worse—with Azriel. And even if she hadn’t, what was to say that he hadn’t come to his own unfavorable conclusion about Nesta after the Vegas trip? She could only imagine what he’d heard and seen that weekend, and frankly she couldn’t blame him if he’d decided that he hated her, too.

Nesta’s heart rate kicked up as she considered the increasingly-grim possibilities. Perhaps she’d been too quick to reject Cash’s offer to send Azriel ahead. If she hadn’t—

Nesta’s phone chimed to signal a notification, and she’d been so deeply engrossed in her catastrophizing that the sound startled an undignified shriek out of her. Pressing a hand to her chest in an attempt to slow her hammering heart, she glanced down to see an alert from the Ring app signaling someone was at the door.

Having no time left with which to ponder her potential evisceration, Nesta simply exhaled a steadying breath before heading down the stairs and disarming the security system.

Nesta felt some of her initial apprehension melt away as she pulled open the door to find that—far from the anger or aloofness she’d feared—Azriel was actually smiling, a modest bouquet of tulips tucked under one arm.

Much like the first time Nesta had met him, Azriel was in all black, from his silk bomber jacket to the well-tailored Japanese denim he wore, his designer boots—Prada, if Nesta had to guess—shined to perfection.

“For you,” Azriel said in greeting, extending the flowers, already neatly trimmed and arranged in a stylish vase, before flashing another soft smile. “I would normally have just brought a bottle of wine, but given what Cash has told me about your incredible palette, I didn’t want to embarrass myself by bringing something terrible.”

“These are lovely,” Nesta assured him. “Please, come in.”

Azriel gave a polite nod and stepped past her, waiting as she re-armed the door before following her up the stairs to the main living space. She thought to offer him a tour before remembering he’d already seen the place when Cash first moved in with her, so instead she opted for what she hoped was amiable silence as she set down the flowers on the island.

“Can I get you something to drink?” She asked, turning to the fridge in an effort to mask her unease.

Despite Azriel’s warm greeting and the flowers he’d brought, Nesta felt her nerves lingering. However, not wanting to dwell on the stakes, she simply forged on.

“I have water, wine, beer, some of those disgusting hard seltzers....”

When Azriel still didn’t reply, she glanced up to see wry amusement sparkling in his eyes, brows slightly raised.

“I have two college-age sisters,” she explained. “Feyre in particular has terrible taste in beverages.”

Azriel huffed a polite laugh, though the slight flush in his cheeks told Nesta he’d been perhaps warned off making any comment about the youngest Archeron, even if it was friendly.

Smart man.

Instead he said, “If I asked for a shot of tequila, would you join me?”

Nesta smiled, retreating to the liquor cabinet and fetching a bottle of reposado and two rocks glasses.

“I should have known,” she said, pouring the golden liquor into both glasses before raising one to him in a toast. “Cash said you’d be the one to watch out for; the knife in the dark.”

At this Azriel laughed outright, his impeccably straight teeth on display as he raised his own glass. It was a deep, rich sound, made all the more satisfying by the knowledge that it had been earned.

“I’ve been to this club before,” he explained. “Trust me when I say it’s not a place you want to go sober.”

It surprised Nesta a little that Azriel—for whom a weekend in Ibiza had been a self-professed torture—was nevertheless familiar with some gaudy nightclub in a city almost 400 miles away from his own.

She opened her mouth to say as much before remembering Cash’s sly remarks about Azriel’s dating life. It seemed a reasonable bet that the last time that Azriel had gone to Divinity, it hadn’t been for the shitty music or overpriced cocktails.

Still, that wasn’t any of Nesta’s business, so she instead replied, “I will drink to that,” tapping his glass and throwing the shot back. It didn’t burn the way the cheap tequila she’d always drank in college had, instead warming her belly as it settled in her stomach.

She poured them each a second measure of tequila—this one for sipping on—and gestured Azriel take a seat on one of the barstools studded around the large granite island.

There was a measure of surprisingly comfortable silence as they both took a sip of their refreshed drinks, and Nesta cast around for something polite for them to talk about before the moment stretched too long.

Nesta hadn’t forgotten the comments both Cash and Azriel himself had made about Azriel’s family, but unsure of where else to begin, she began carefully, “Cash mentioned you met in London. Are you from the UK originally?”

He didn’t have an accent, but that didn’t mean much. Perhaps he’d trained himself out of it as a means of transformation. If there was one thing that Nesta felt certain of in regards to Azriel Macar, it was that the man who stood before her today—hair impeccably styled and clothes tailored to perfection—was a facade crafted with the same artistry which had made him so successful as a designer.

The real Azriel, Nesta sensed, was hidden somewhere beneath all the trappings of wealth and success, and for a reason she couldn’t fathom, the idea he felt the need to keep himself disguised made Nesta’s chest ache a bit.

Azriel huffed a quiet, humorless laugh at the question, and Nesta wondered if—however innocuous—it had been the wrong one to ask. However, after another small sip of his drink, Azriel met her gaze, expression steady but guarded.

“Hardly,” he said before glancing back down into his glass. “I grew up in Oklahoma.”

It had been the last thing Nesta had expected, and her struggle to master herself earned a laugh from Azriel, this one slightly easier.

“You seem surprised,” he mused.

“I’m sorry,” she said, cheeks flushing a little. “I—”

“Don’t be,” Azriel said. “I’d have been offended if you hadn’t been. It’s a Hellhole.” He gave another humorless laugh. “Which is ironic considering churches practically outnumbered people in the town I grew up in.”

Not wanting to offend him by saying the wrong thing, Nesta settled for what felt like the safest option.

“I’ve never been to Oklahoma,” she offered. “The closest I’ve come is Dallas, and I can’t say I’m a huge fan of that, either.”

“Oh agreed,” Azriel said. “Though I wouldn’t say that in front of Rhys; you’ll break his bougie black heart. He loves Dallas.”

“For some reason that doesn’t surprise me,” Nesta admitted, and Azriel smiled.

“Then you’re a quick study.”

They fell into another comfortable silence as Nesta turned the comment over and over in his mind, debating the merits of voicing the question dangling on the tip of her tongue. The potential for blowback if she overstepped remained a clear and present danger, but Azriel’s relaxed demeanor emboldened her to take the risk.

“So…Rhysand,” she began, trying to keep her tone casual rather than anxious or over-eager. “Any tips?”

Azriel paused at this, his glass halfway to his mouth as he raised his eyebrows. Not as if he were offended by the question, but rather to indicate he hadn’t been expecting it.

He took a sip of his drink in lieu of giving an immediate answer. Nesta wasn’t sure what to make of this stall tactic, but she resisted the urge to fill the silence, waiting instead for him to speak.

Finally he said, “Rhys is like skiing. Easy to learn but difficult to master. When I first met him, it took me all of ten minutes to decide I had him all figured out and that I fucking hated him. Now we’ve been best friends for almost five years, and he still finds ways to surprise the hell out of me on a regular basis. Still, chances are that even if you don’t want to like him, you still will. He’s inevitable in that way.”

“And what about the people he doesn’t like?” She asked carefully.

Azriel’s smile had grown soft and slightly more elusive, but he answered gamely, “I don’t think Rhys has ever met a female he didn’t like.”

She didn’t know why she said it, but Nesta found herself blurting, “first time for everything, I suppose.”

It was more vulnerability than she’d wanted to show, and seeing the smile slip from Azriel’s face, she knew at once she’d said the wrong thing.

However, he didn’t immediately clap back like she feared he would, instead seeming almost...concerned.

“I know we don’t know each other that well,” he said after a beat, “but can I be...honest for a second?”

“Please,” Nesta said, despite the fact she wasn’t at all sure she was ready for whatever it was he had to say.

“I assume this has to do with Mor.”

It wasn’t a question, but it certainly answered any doubt Nesta had over whether Mor had voiced her dislike to the rest of the group.

“What makes you say that?” Nesta said, annoyed at herself for the tartness which had slid into her voice.

However, if her curt tone bothered Azriel, he didn’t show it. Instead he merely nodded, seeming to weigh his next statement before continuing on.

“I usually try to stay out of the inter-group politicking because there are enough busy-bodies in this crew as it is, but I will say this: Mor is entitled to her opinion; don’t make the mistake of assuming it’s an opinion that everyone shares.”

“I wouldn’t blame you or Rhysand if you didn’t like me,” she admitted, fighting the urge to grow defensive in her vulnerability.

Azriel only shrugged.

“Like I said, it’s not my style to insert myself into other people’s business, but…”

He paused for a second to meet her eye before quietly adding, “I saw what was done to that bookcase, Nesta. Mor didn’t.”

Nesta felt a lump swelling in her throat at the memory, Tomás’s screaming still echoing faintly in her ears.

“That’s probably more grace than I deserve, but thank you.”

Azriel nodded again, looking down into the swirling remains of his drink before adding, “And for what it’s worth, you should know that Cash has never said one ugly thing about you, even in Vegas. He had every opportunity to tear you to pieces that weekend, and he never did.”

“I think that says more about his character than mine,” Nesta admitted, “But I can’t deny it’s a relief to hear.”

“Cash may seem carefree, but I don’t think I need to tell you that everything he does, he does with intention. That includes the company he chooses to keep.”

There was a finality to the way Azriel said it, as if he’d finally exceeded his limit for getting mixed up in his friends’ personal lives and was hoping to change the subject.

Nesta rewarded his tacit request by refilling both their glasses and saying, “So, as two people who don’t like clubs, any idea what we can expect from tonight?”

“A bloody nightmare,” Azriel said half under his breath, accepting his glass back from her and taking a healthy drink. “Rhys promised we wouldn’t have to be there all night, so I’m praying he can accomplish whatever required schmoozing quickly so we can fuck off to somewhere slightly less atrocious.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Nesta said, raising her glass in salutation and taking a generous swig.

The conversation flowed fairly effortlessly after that, shifting from the friend group to Azriel’s work. He’d seemed hesitant to discuss it at first, as if he were afraid he might bore her if he talked about himself or his own interests for more than a sentence or two. However, once she’d coaxed him into opening up slightly, no doubt aided in her effort by the tequila, she found they had no shortage of topics to discuss.

Beyond his own work, Azriel was a walking encyclopedia on the history of modernist architecture and design, and he was effortless in his ability to recite fascinating anecdotes about the movement’s pioneers. The way his eyes lit up as he regaled her with a story about Frank Lloyd Wright reminded Nesta of the look Elain always wore when discussing the Papal intrigue of Quattrocento Rome, and she envisioned—not for the first time—how well those two would likely get on were they to ever meet.

Nesta was surprised when she glanced at the oven clock and realized it was nearly 11:30. Azriel must have seen it too, because he drained his glass and reached for his coat.

“I’ve unfortunately exhausted all my tactics for delaying the inevitable,” Azriel said, pulling up the Uber app on his phone and showing Nesta that their driver was six minutes away. “Shall we?”

It was nearing midnight by the time they reached the white lacquered doors of Divinity, a throng of club hopefuls already beginning to amass behind the velvet rope which snaked off to the right of the entrance.

It was only then that Nesta realized they’d never been given any instruction on how or where to find the others. However, Azriel seemed to know the drill, because he skirted the line and went to the bouncer guarding the other side of the rope, presumably the entrance for VIP guests. It didn’t take more than the words “Rhysand Sadaghi” to get them through the rope and following a hostess to what she continued to remind them was the club’s “premiere suite”.

The farther they traveled into the space, the louder the hypnotic bass became until they were skirting the massive dance floor en route to a private balcony fashioned to look like a giant cloud suspended in mid-air. Nesta swore as she picked her way up the narrow staircase leading to the box, praying none of the smarmy-looking douchebags below would think to look up. If they did, she was fairly sure they'd have a full view up her skirt through the translucent steps.

Finally, they reached the landing, and Nesta permitted herself one last steadying breath before accepting Azriel’s hand to clear the final stair.

The suite seemed to be divided into two chambers separated by a silk curtain. The initial space was currently unoccupied, but through the partition in the silk, Nesta spotted a single figure lounging in a plush armchair as it if were a throne, a drink balanced lazily on a knee as he surveyed the crowd below. However, she had less than a second to study him before he took notice of their arrival, his arms outstretched as his mouth split into a breath-taking grin.

Rhysand Sadeghi was gorgeous almost beyond comprehension. The picture of elegance and obscene wealth, he was as tall as Azriel and just as well-built, with glittering azure eyes and a smile bright enough to dazzle even in the semi-darkness.

On paper his beauty was profuse to the point of revulsion—his eyes too blue, his lips too full, his cheekbones too sharp. In short, Rhysand should have been too pretty to actually be attractive. But there was something so devilishly human in the arch of his dark brows and the curve of his smile that made him, hands-down, the most handsome man Nesta had ever met.

But not, she noted with a swell of pleasant emotion, the most attractive. Rhysand may have been physical perfection, but he would never be more beautiful to her than Cash; no man would.

Rhysand gave a cat-like smile as he approached, straightening the lapels of his Armani suit jacket as if he were preparing to step into a business meeting. The crisp shirt beneath had the first several buttons undone, and Nesta could see the making of what was clearly a very intricate chest piece tattoo peaking above the collar, the swirling lines matching the designs which covered the backs of each of his hands.

“Nesta,” he said in greeting, tone warm as if they were old friends. “Finally. I was starting to worry that Cash was hiding you from me.”

His English accent was clipped but smooth, a clear product of his education at Eton and Oxford.

Nesta turned to allow him to brush a kiss on her cheek.

“So you’re the philandering rake I’ve heard so much about,” she said as they pulled away.

It was perhaps a somewhat risky thing to say considering how badly she wanted Cash’s friends to like her, but Rhysand’s answering smile indicated he enjoyed a good verbal spar.

“And you’re even more beautiful than Cash described,” he shot back easily. “Careful, I might be tempted to steal you for myself.”

Nesta hit him with an expression Cash had affectionately termed “Disney Villainess.”

“I don’t know if I’m expected to laugh in your face, or slap you across it.”

Rhys only tipped his head back and laughed as Azriel said from behind her, “A fairly common reaction to meeting him, I’d say.”

“Drink?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the various champagne buckets scattered around the space. “What can I get you?”

He was already pouring a whiskey for Azriel before patting his friend affectionately on the cheek, a gesture which Azriel swatted away.

“No special friend with you tonight, brother? Cash said it’s been a proper revolving door since you moved to LA!”

“Oh fuck off,” Azriel said, tone light even as his cheeks pinked. “You’re just jealous.”

“Maybe I am,” Rhys said, shooting Nesta a wink. “Champagne, Nesta?”

“Please,” she said, noting the bottle of $500 Armand de Brignac nestled in the closest chiller. Being around this level of wealth was going to take some getting used to. She seemed to sense that Rhys was waiting for her to take a sip, so she did.

“It’s lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”

Rhys grinned.

“I’m so pleased you like it. Cash says you have a palette for wine that’s destined to put the rest of us to shame.”

Just then another dark-haired man appeared from the darkness, bending to speak quietly in Rhys's ear. Nesta noted the radio at his belt and the gun at his hip, and the way his dark eyes shone with an alacrity which told her he was stone-cold sober.

When the man straightened up, Rhys gestured to him with a smile.

“This is my bodyguard, Adan. Donnie, this is Cash’s better half, if you can believe that.”

“Nice to meet you,” Adan said, voice thick with a French accent. “Welcome to the court of nightmares.”

Rhys’s crushing blue eyes glittered as he laughed.

“Nightmares? Brother, this is a court of dreams! Algerians take everything too seriously,” He added with a smile. “Relax, Don.”

Adan rolled his eyes and snapped a retort in French, though his body language suggested he wasn’t actually bothered. Rhys only laughed in response before offering a rapid reply in the same language.

“Shall we, then?” Rhys said, ushering Nesta forward while keeping his hand a respectful distance from her low back.

“Your timing is impeccable as always, Az,” Rhys said, dropping onto one of the low couches with a lazy grace before kicking his feet up on the glass table. “Even five minutes earlier and you’d have been forced to make small talk with the owner. The man’s a complete knob.”

“Sorry to have missed him,” Azriel said wryly, appraising the space with a designer’s critical eye.

Rhys seemed to note Azriel’s assessment, because he gestured to their surroundings and asked, “So, what do you think?”

Azriel’s lip curled in disgust, the most expression Nesta had ever seen him show.

“It’s fucking horrendous.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Rhys said with a grin. “Wouldn’t buy this place if it were free.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, though there was no malice in the gesture.

“If that’s true, then what are we doing here?”

“You mean besides running up an obscene tab on the ownership’s dime? We’re celebrating.”

Az simply rolled his eyes again, but Nesta shrugged.

“I’ll bite; celebrating what?

“The successful culmination of a well-deserved revenge plot.”

“I’m officially intrigued,” Nesta said, and Rhys flashed her a bone-melting smirk.

“I thought you might be,” he replied, drawing a cigar from his inside pocket before lighting it and settling back into his seat.

“Six months ago the prick who owned this place called me wanting to see if we’d be interested in going in with his group on a joint venture for a new property they wanted to open in Miami. They’ve been wanting to break into the market but didn’t have the contacts to do it, so they were hoping I could provide leverage. I said I’d consider it, but the financials didn’t pencil so I thanked him for the offer but told him we were going to pass.”

Rhysand paused to take a casual sip of his drink before continuing on.

“A few days later he pocket dials me. I was getting ready to hang up when I realized he happened to be talking about me to a colleague. Didn’t catch the whole conversation, but considering the fact I stayed on the line long enough to hear him refer to me as a ‘towel-headed terrorist”, I think I got the gist.”

The champagne she’d been enjoying moments earlier turned immediately sour in Nesta’s mouth. It wasn’t always easy being a woman—particularly in a chauvinistic, ego-centric industry like hers—but even with all the wayward comments and veiled jabs she’d endured over the years, she couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to be on the receiving end of that kind of ugliness. Glancing between Rhys and Azriel, she could see in their expressions the same bleakness she sometimes glimpsed on Cash’s face, a stark reminder of the realities of racism they didn’t have the privilege of ignoring. It made Nesta want to hunt this hideous prick down and bury her stiletto into his jugular.

Azriel, for his part, only gave an unamused snort, gaze going cold. “He should meet my brother Tanner. Sounds like the two of them would get along great.”

“Indeed,” Rhysand said, his own smile razored. “I won’t bore you with the gory details, but the long and short of it is that while he’s been kissing my ass the last three days thinking I’m interested in investing in this dump, my lawyers have been finalizing a deal to buy the property across the street.”

“So you can rub what an asshole he is in his face for the rest of eternity?” Azriel asked.

Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but Nesta beat him to it.

“You wanted him to open his books,” she said, reading Rhys’s cold smile. “You needed to see his balance sheet so you’d know what it would take to put this place underwater.”

He nodded, grin widening.

“Turns out that in addition to being an ignorant piece of shit, dude’s also an idiot,” Rhys said, smoke slithering through his lips as he took another drag from his cigar. “His distributor’s been fleecing him on booze. I already have a supplier lined up who’s willing to sell to me at cost, which means I will be able to charge 30% less per drink while maintaining the same margin. This place will be lucky to last six months.”

At this his crushing gaze met Nesta’s, and she couldn't decide if he was seeking her approval or illustrating the power he had to destroy people who crossed him. The fear that it had been the latter had the instinct to go on the defensive flaring, but Nesta forced the urge down, merely raising her glass to him instead.

“All’s well that ends well, then.”

“I wouldn’t start gloating just yet,” Azriel said. “It’s gonna take more than cheaper drinks to thin this herd.”

He gestured to the packed throng of revelers below.

Rhys remained unruffled.

“True, but when have you ever known me to not hedge my bets?”

“Let me guess: you’ve convinced some Kardashian sibling to come on opening weekend and lie to their billion followers about how great it is.”

“Kardashians? You’ve got to learn to dream bigger, Azzy!”

“We’re not going to play twenty questions with you about it,” Azriel shot back mildly. “So either tell us what you’ve got up your sleeve or I’m changing the subject. Cash won’t thank you for boring Nesta to death within the first twenty minutes.”

Rhys laughed, undimmed by Azriel’s slightly-acerbic wit. It made Nesta like Rhysand slightly more than she otherwise might have, knowing that his wasn't the sort of ego that was so large it had grown inflexible.

“Conn agreed to a two-week residency when the place opens,” Rhys explained instead. “ People are going to forget this joint even exists when they find out he’s performing at such an intimate venue.”

Azriel gave an appreciative chuckle, clearly understanding who that was and what it meant. Nesta, on the other hand, didn’t have the slightest clue.

Part of her didn’t want to give Rhysand the satisfaction of asking in the event he’d only brought it up as a means of making her feel foolish for not knowing. However, a glance up at him showed that the chilly gleam in his eye from earlier had softened to pure amusement, and she decided to play nice by saying, “I admit I don’t frequent enough clubs to know what that means.”

“If we said the name ConMan, would that mean anything to you?” Azriel asked.

Actually it did. ConMan’s signature was blending classical movements by Mozart and Bach with modern electronic music, and though Nesta wasn’t usually one for house or EDM, she admittedly had more than one ConMan track on her gym playlist.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re friends with one of the most famous DJs in the world,” she said to Rhysand, and he laughed again

“Actually I met him through Cash. They grew up together in Hawai’i.”

Now it was Nesta who wanted to laugh. In all the stories Cash had told about his childhood friends, including the twins—Fen and Connall0—he’d failed to mention that one of them happened to have a Vegas residency. She loved that about him, that he wasn’t one to drop names or lord his impressive friends over her.

“I don’t know how you feel about house music,” Rhys continued, “But you should come see him spin. He’s incredible on stage. Watching him perform, you’d never guess what a massive homebody he actually is.”

“I don’t know how he does it,” Azriel added, the whiskey stones in his drink clinking as he rotated the contents with a practiced flick of his wrist. “If I were Connall, I would have faked my own death years ago.”

“I do love that the two biggest introverts I know both ended up being famous,” Rhys said with a grin.

Azriel rolled his eyes.

“I am not famous.”

Rhys only bubbled his lips.

“Bruv, you were featured in Vogue. Give it up already.”

Recognizing that Azriel was currently her closest ally in the fight to win over Cash’s friends, Nesta decided to throw him a bone and redirect the spotlight by asking, “How well do you two know the Hawai’i boys? They seem like a fun bunch.”

“Nah, they're all assholes,” a voice echoed from beyond the gauzy curtain.

They all turned at the intrusion, Rhys whistling appreciatively and rising to his feet as Rowan Whitethorn cleared the last of the stairs and emerged into the lounge.

“There he is,” Rhys said. “Nice hair, brother!”

Rowan grinned as he ran a tattooed hand through the grey strands, which gleamed silver under the club’s sleek lights.

Rhys was right; it was quite different than Nesta had ever remembered it looking. Though he still wore it in an undercut, the sides were now almost to the skin and the top longer and more ostentatiously styled, making him look less clean-cut and more...dangerous.

Nesta didn’t have to wonder too long at the change. When she’d asked Cash why he hadn’t been seeing as much of Rowan—worried that he was still avoiding his friends because of her—Cash had made a vague remark about Ro’s current caseload requiring him to work extra hours. Seeing Rowan now, she suspected that ‘extra hours’ had actually been a euphemism for working undercover.

Rowan only smirked at Rhys’s assessment, their vibe easier than Nesta might have imagined. But then, that was the magic of Cash; he could bring anyone together.

“I’m trying something new,” Ro offered coyly.

“I like it,” Rhys said.

Rowan's smile grew a little, green eyes flicking up to Rhys’s own dark hair, which was styled in a similar manner.

“I bet you do.”

“I can’t resist a bit of drama,” Rhys admitted before glancing behind Rowan. “No Ace tonight?”

Rowan's face fell slightly even as he accepted a drink from Rhys and smiled at Nesta and Azriel in greeting.

“She and NeNe were playing in a tournament in Latvia until yesterday, and her flight out of Riga got canceled because of staffing shortages with the airlines. Don’t get me started.”

For her part, Nesta couldn’t decide if she should be disappointed or relieved. She hadn’t been lying all those months ago when she’d told Cash she liked Aelin already. But after Mor...Nesta wasn’t sure how much hope she could realistically harbor that Aelin would ever like her back.

She was saved from her self-improvised spiral by Rowan, who’d finished greeting Azriel and turned his full attention on her.

“Nesta,” he said, brushing a soft kiss on her cheek the same way Rhys had. “Good to see you.”

His smile was full of meaning, and she found herself flushing a little.

“You don’t seem...surprised. To see me.”

Didn’t seem disappointed, she didn’t need to say. She could see in his eyes that he knew what she meant, and the way they softened at the corners told her that he was genuinely glad she was with Cash, even after all her mistakes.

“Can’t say I am,” he said, accepting a whiskey from Rhys with a nod. “I had faith you two would...figure it out when you were ready.”

“I’m sorry Aelin’s not here,” Nesta said, hesitating for only a second before admitting, “I was looking forward to finally getting to meet her.”

“She’s gutted to have missed it,” Rowan said. “If there was any way she could have been here, she would have.”

Rhys and Az traded a furtive glance at this, but before Nesta could worry at what it might mean, Rowan flashed a soft smile, the sincerity in it putting her at ease.

“It really is a shame she’s not here,” Rhys said as they resettled. “I like to think she would have really appreciated the unholy douchbaggery of this place.”

“That’s because she’s a godless hedonist,” Rowan said, expression neutral but tone full of affection. “Why do you think she likes hanging out with you so much?”

“You’re just lucky you met her first,” Rhys shot back easily.

Remembering how Rowan had reacted when Eris had dared to make a comment about Aelin, Nesta half expected Rowan to clap back. Instead, he only grinned, clearly at-ease with this dynamic.

“Please,” he said, taking another sip of his drink. “You two would tear each other apart.”

“Agreed,” Azriel said mildly. “She’d have your sensitive little ass in tears the first time you got into a disagreement.”

“Fuck you both,” Rhys said, grinning now too.

Friends, Nesta realized. These three, despite all their perceived differences, were genuinely friends in their own right, even when Cash wasn’t around.

“Honestly, Sadeghi,” Rowan said, “I can’t wait to meet the girl you end up with. She's going to need the patience of a saint to deal with your…”

Rowan trailed off, head cocking towards the new song currently building in the space below. Nesta didn’t recognize it, but it was hypnotic and dark, admittedly a lot better than the manic-tempo shit they’d previously been playing.

Rowan remained on alert, listening intently, and finally Nesta asked, “Is everything alright?”

“This is Ace and NeNe’s warmup track,”Rowan said, seeming almost dazed. “Connall made it for them specifically after Aelin complained women's sports don’t get the same pre-game hype.”

“How annoyingly true,” Rhys said with an almost-theatrical frown.

Despite his disapproving words, Nesta didn’t miss the undercurrent of self-satisfaction in Rhys’s tone. Rowan clearly hadn’t missed it either, because his head instead snapped back to Rhys, his expression caught between confusion and excitement.

“Is this you?” He said, gesturing to the speakers.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Rhys said, blue eyes glittering with delight.

Rhys’s reaction, despite meaning absolutely nothing to Nesta, seemed to confirm something for Rowan, and he leapt to his feet.

“No way,” he said, a smile growing on his face now. “Even you couldn’t pull something like that off.”

Rhys pretended to buff his nails on his lapel.

“Couldn’t I, though?” He said with exaggerated self-importance before gesturing to the dance floor below with his eyes.

Rowan leapt up, running to the balcony to peer over it. Still unsure of what the fuck was going on, Nesta followed, reaching the balcony just as the beat dropped, everyone in the crowd seeming to pulse in time with the music.

That was, everyone but three people, who were instead cutting a distinct path away from the stage and towards the roped-off stairs.

Even if Nesta had not recognized the gorgeous blonde leading the trio, Rowan’s reaction to seeing her would have been enough to tell her who it was.

Rowan was in motion at once, abandoning his drink on the nearby table and taking the stairs two at a time. He ignored the belch of fake fog which exploded around him as his foot reached the last stair, because by that time the blonde had noticed him as well, and in two long strides she was in his arms, the hem of her tight dress riding dangerously high as she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him.

“Nice work, brother,” Azriel said, extending his knuckles to a preening Rhysand. “Wasn’t sure you were going to be able to pull it off.”

By now Rowan and Aelin had finished their steamy reunion and were heading back up the stairs, Aelin tucked comfortably under Rowan’s muscled arm as they continued to grin at one another.

Finally Rowan turned back to Rhys, laughing a little.

“You sneaky bastard! All those questions about Ace not being here when you knew full well she was already on her way!”

“You know Aelin tears are my kryptonite,” Rhys said, winking at a beaming Aelin. “When she called me crying earlier saying her flight had been canceled, how could I leave her stranded, especially when I knew my father’s jet was sitting idle in London?”

It was then that Rhys finally came into greater focus for Nesta. If Cash was the group’s unifying thread, weaving all the disparate personalities into a single, tight-knit clan, then Rhys was its magic wand, trailing sparks through the air and achieving the seemingly impossible with a flick of the wrist.

It would have been easy to attribute it to his extreme wealth, but watching him now, Nesta could see it was more than that. Yes, money had a way of making big problems seem small, but the finesse with which Rhys handled roadblocks told her that he was neither as frivolous nor as rash as he liked to pretend.

And he hadn’t just done it to prove he could, Nesta realized. He’d done it knowing what even one extra day together would mean for Aelin and Rowan, and so that Aelin wouldn’t have to miss out on this rare opportunity for them to spend time together as a group. It was clear watching them interact how much they all meant to one another, and how much they cherished any time they got to spend in one another’s company. More than friends, it was clear this group was more like a second family, even scattered as they were across the globe. And it was all because of Cash.

Nesta watched the joyous reunion unfold without comment, feeling so caught up in the moment that she’d nearly forgotten her own outsider status. It wasn’t until Aelin finished greeting the others that Nesta remembered herself at last, the same anxieties which had plagued her all week swelling with renewed urgency.

A quick glance over Aelin’s shoulder revealed wary expressions on both Rhys and Rowan’s faces, as if they too weren’t sure how this meeting would play out.

It was only when Aelin’s stunning blue eyes fell on Nesta that the latter realized how badly she wanted this woman to like her, despite all the legitimate reasons Aelin—like Mor—had to dislike her.

To aate her even.

It was too late for all of that though, as Aelin was making her way over, her slinky gown glittering like molten gold under the lights. Nesta guessed that even barefoot Aelin must have been over six feet, but she towered close to Rowan’s height in her spindly heels, making Nesta feel positively minuscule in comparison.

Still, she did her best to steel her nerves, unsure whether to extend her hand as she forced herself to meet Aelin’s gaze and say, “I’m Nesta.”

“I know,” Aelin said, not extending her hand either.

Unease sluiced through Nesta as she tried to decipher Aelin’s tone. However, before she could worry about what to do next, Aelin continued.

“I know we don’t really know each other, but…” she paused, glancing over her shoulder at Rowan before turning back to Nesta and continuing, “Can I hug you?”

It wasn’t what Nesta had expected, but she nodded, extending her own arms with a slightly-strangled, “of course.”

Aelin pushed forward at once, pulling Nesta to her as if they’d been friends all their lives. It wasn’t the overly-tight embrace Nesta had feared, and she found herself immediately inundated by the fresh citrus scent of Aelin’s perfume.

When they pulled back, Nesta found Aelin smiling at her, no calculation or contempt on her face.

“I want to thank you again for what you did for Nehemiah,” she continued. “We were in a proper panic until you stepped in.”

“I was happy to help,” Nesta said, grateful for the warmth in Aelin’s tone, even if she wasn’t sure she deserved it. “I’m just glad it worked out.”

“It did. Thanks to you,” Aelin said, tone full of meaning.

Nesta nodded and made to step away, terrified she might ruin the moment by saying the wrong thing. However, Aelin reached forward to grab her hand, giving a soft squeeze as she leaned forward, voice pitched low as she said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Nesta admitted, pausing before adding, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.”

“Me too,” Aelin said with a smile. “We all have.”

Nesta could barely contain what those words did to her—how they soothed all the jagged self-loathing she’d harbored over the last several months. Aelin seemed to read the lingering pain on Nesta’s face, because her own smile dimmed slightly.

“She’ll come around,” Aelin said simply. “Just give her time.”

Nesta didn’t need to ask who Aelin was referring to, but she nodded, grateful beyond measure for Aelin’s kindness.

Not wanting to monopolize Aelin’s attention, she turned back to the rest of the group, which now included two more men she didn’t know.

Though they’d yet to be introduced, it was clear from their piercing blue eyes who they were.

The Ashryvvers, Aelin’s maternal cousins.

The blonde was the first to notice Nesta, and his answering smile was deceptively mild as he nodded to her in greeting before leaning over to his cousin and whispering—perhaps a bit louder than he’d intended, “Ella está buena.”

Despite her parents’ insistence, Nesta’s Spanish had never been nearly as good as her Portuguese. However, it was certainly good enough to understand when a man was checking her out.

Flustered, Nesta tried to keep her expression neutral. It wasn’t that she was offended; she just wasn’t sure how to proceed without embarrassing Aelin’s cousin and possibly offending Aelin herself in the process.

Fortunately for Nesta, it seemed that Aelin had also overheard what had been said, and she reacted with no hesitation.

Quick as an adder, she slapped the blonde soundly upside the head and hissed, “That’s Cash’s girlfriend, you ignorant doorknob!” before flipping into smooth, clipped Spanish and adding, “Y ella habla portugués; puede entenderte. Sorry,” she said, turning back to Nesta with an apologetic smile. “You’d honestly think these two were raised in a barn. These are my cousins, Aedion and Galen.”

“Why am I being scolded?” Galen, the darker-hair one, asked. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it,” Aelin sniffed at him. “So you’re just as bad.”

Galen rolled his eyes in defeat and turned to make himself a drink, but Aedion only grinned, seemingly unruffled by Aelin’s rebuke as he extended his hand to Nesta.

“Lovely to meet you,” he said. “Cash is a lucky man.”

“Knock it off,” Aelin said, pushing his hand aside as she steered Nesta away. “She’s probably gotten enough of that from Rhys already.”

“Me?” Rhys said, laughing. “What did I do?”

“Plenty, I’m sure,” Aelin said, blowing him a kiss. “Besides, I thought you saved the worst of your shameless flirting for me!”

“Don’t encourage him,” Rowan said.

“Don’t get possessive,” Aelin lobbed back, flashing him a tarty smile over her shoulder. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

“God, I’ve missed you,” Rhys said, grinning appreciatively at her.

“Then move to California already,” Aelin said, pouring herself a glass of champagne before topping off Nesta’s glass as well. “Then you can annoy Ro to your heart’s delight.”

“It’s tempting,” Rhys admitted. “But I wouldn’t want to encroach on Az’s hunting grounds.”

Azriel, who Nesta expected to clap back the way he usually did when someone brought up his love life, simply raised his glass in answer.

“Be my guest. You and I have very different taste in women.”

It was a testament, Nesta decided, to how comfortable Aelin’s arrival had made her, that she actually debated actually asking Azriel what his type might be. However, after a moment of consideration she decided not to push the issue, if only for fear of upsetting the delicate but promising balance she’d struck within the group.

She thought of how it had felt watching Cash meshing with her own friends, and she hoped he would be similarly pleased when he saw how easily she’d seemed to find her way with his. Because they’d all gone out of their way to accept her, even after what she’d put Cash through. Being here with them, it became dangerously easy, in fact, to imagine what a future amongst these people might look like for her.

Before tonight, Nesta had been apprehensive to plan too far ahead where she and Cash were concerned, afraid to get her hopes up while things with his friends remained so much in the air. Hard as it had been, Nesta had promised herself when they’d started dating that she would never let herself come between Cash and the people who were most important to him, even if it someday meant making the difficult decision of letting him go so he wouldn’t be forced to choose.

She supposed she’d never forgiven herself enough to actually imagine they might accept her the same way Cash had. Sitting amongst them now, listening to them talk and laugh as if they didn’t all know how selfish and broken she’d been, her heart felt full in a way even she didn’t have words for.

“Boo, we’re out of champagne!” Aelin said, pulling Nesta from her reverie as she shook the empty bottle upside down and pouted in Rhys’s direction. “Please tell me we don’t have to flirt with the horrible owner to get more.”

“No champagne?” a familiar voice called, sending Nesta’s heart soaring into her throat. “What kind of shit party is this?”

Nesta leapt up in time to see Cash emerging from behind the gauzy curtain, a huge smile on his face. A cheer went up at his appearance, but he only had eyes for Nesta, stringing an arm around her waist as she approached and pulling her close.

“Miss me?” He asked, brushing his nose against hers as he grinned.

“A little,” she said, stroking a hand down his cheek.

Before she could ask how the dinner went, Rhys interrupted with a laughing groan.

“Guess I’m going to have to order the expensive stuff, now that Kahukore is here.”

“No need,” Cash said, pulling a bottle from behind his back. “I brought my own.”

Nesta recognized the crest-shaped label and laughed.

“You got it?”

Cash grinned.

“They offered me the job on the spot. I fly to Paris next week to sign the papers. Here Sadeghi, this shit is bougie enough to get even your spoiled ass excited. Dom P3 Plentinude Brut, a gift from the personal wine cellar of Dom’s COO.”

“This beauty spends 20 years aging on its lees, and you want to share it with these animals?” Rhys asked.

“Good point,” Cash said. “We better open before I change my mind.”

Divesting the bottle of its cage with practiced ease, Cash held his thumb to the cork to keep it from accidentally popping off before offering the bottle to Nesta.

“Will you do the honors?”

She gently pushed the bottle back towards him.

“You’re better at it than I am,” she said.

“True,” he said, grin widening as she bared her teeth at him. “But I wouldn’t have gotten this job if you hadn’t pushed me to apply, so this one’s all you.”

“Nes-ta! Nes-ta! Nes-ta!” Aelin chanted, the others joining in until Nesta finally accepted the bottle from Cash, applying pressure to the cork before it finally came loose with an expert kiss of sound.

They all cheered again, Cash pouring a measure into the fresh glasses Rhys had produced before raising his own, Nesta still tucked comfortably into his side.

“Oscar Wilde once wrote, ‘pleasure without champagne is purely artificial.’ Since I’m not one to argue with the greats, I’ll simply say, here’s to genuine pleasure, friends!”

Another cheer went up as they all clinked glasses and took a sip, Nesta nearly moaning as it hit her tongue. It was even better than the bottle of Armand de Brignac they’d opened after Nesta’s trial, every carefully-cultivated flavor dialed to 11 by the lengthy aging process.

“What do you think?” Cash said quietly, studying her reaction with delight.

“Perfection.”

“Just like you, then,” he shot back easily.

Instead of sniping back like she normally would have, she merely smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said quietly.

“Thank you,” he said. “For making me go tonight. It would have been a mistake not to.”

“No thanks necessary,” she replied firmly. “Since there was no way I was going to let you miss it.”

“Things have been going...well here, I take it?”

She took a minute to compose herself, glancing down into her glass before meeting his eye again.

“The only thing that would have made it better would have been if you’d been here.”

He studied her face, seeming to relax as he read the calm contentment on hers.

“I’ve told you a million times; to know you is to love you, Nesta Archeron. Anyone who refuses to see that is truly blind.”

Nesta's heart stuttered a bit at that, both at the compliment and the reminder that there was still work to do when it came to repairing all the damage that had been done. Still, that was a problem for another day. Tonight, they were celebrating.

It was Nesta’s phone which woke her the following morning, the annoyingly-bright chime alerting her there was someone at their front door. She turned over to wake Cash, intent on making him fetch whatever package had been dropped off so she could continue sleeping.

She was fairly certain she was going to be hungover for the next month after the bender they’d embarked on the night before, and she didn’t plan to get out of bed until she had to leave for work on Monday. Maybe not even then.

Blindly reaching for him, she found his side of the bed cool, and when she’d gathered the strength to open her eyes, she swore to find a note instead of the mass of naked man she’d been expecting.

Gone to the gym with Ro to sweat out the demons. Take the Advil I left you. <;3

She swore again at realizing he wasn’t there, and a third time for good measure when the doorbell chimed again.

“Just leave whatever it is and go!” She yelled, even knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell the delivery person could actually hear her.

When the door chimed a third time, Nesta groaned and hauled herself to her feet, slugging down the Advil and nearly falling down the stairs in her attempt to reach the front door.

Dredging up whatever decorum she could muster, she smoothed her rumpled hair and fought down the urge to snap at the overeager UPS driver who’d thought it was appropriate to ring the doorbell three times on a Saturday morn—

Nesta felt herself go pale as she wrenched open the door to find that it wasn’t a delivery at all. It was Mor, looking fresh as a daisy and distressingly composed when compared to what Nesta was sure she must have looked like.

A beat of horrifyingly awkward silence reigned before Nesta regained her wits enough to say, “I’m sorry, Cash isn’t home right now.”

“Actually,” Mor said, “I came to see you.”

The panic must have shown somewhat on Nesta’s face, because before she could manage a reply, Mor pressed on.

“I would have been here sooner, but apparently Rhys lent the jet to Aelin, so I had to fly commercial.”

When Nesta still didn’t reply, Mor shifted slightly, the first sign of discomfort she’d allowed to show.

“I know it’s early for a social call, but I thought—would you like to come to breakfast? I know a great place in Portrero Hill. My treat, of course.”

Nesta, for all her usual composure and aplomb, remained speechless. When she finally opened her mouth, the only thing that came out was “Why?”

“I was hoping we could...talk,” Mor said. When Nesta made no move to reply, Mor continued, “I wanted to apologize for yesterday, and for us to hopefully...start over.”

After another hideous beat of silence Mor seemed to relent, nodding as she stepped back, gaze falling to her feet.

“But I understand if now is not a good time. I’ll just let you get back to—“

“No,” Nesta said finally, making up her mind. If Cash could forgive her for the mistakes she’d made and allow her to move on from them, the least she owed him was to offer Mor the same chance. “I’d like that. I just need to—” she glanced down at herself. “I could be ready in twenty minutes, if that works.”

“Yes!” Mor said, eyes lighting up. “Take your time, I’ll come back in an hour.”

Mor was already heading for the stairs, and Nesta considered the courage it had taken to extend this olive branch before deciding to extend one of her own.

“Would you like to wait here instead? I can make coffee.”

Mor’s smile went from edged hopefulness to soft relief.

“I’d love that.”

@that-golden-lyre @aspidenchantress @annedub @so-chill-mochill @verypaleninja @bookofmaas @katexrenee@mightymorphingayagenda @tswaney17 @keshavomit @subhuman-queer @123moiaussi @b00kworm @sezkins79 @marnz @wesupremeginger @toallthefandomsivelovedbefore @rhysanoodle @actuallyacotartrash @empress-ofbloodshed-writing @superspiritfestival @donnarosemary @regolithheart @kingdomofbrokenhearts @mariamuses @verifiefangirl-mainblog @awesomethreedragons @awesomelena555 @kayak34

#in vino veritas #nessian modern au #nessian #acotar x tog crossover #featherywrites

116 notes · View notes