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#he just has to get through some more angst first
a-lexia11 · 21 hours
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Womanizer (Part 1)
Fuckboy!Alexia Putellas x reader
Word count: Around 14k
Warning:highly suggestive (minors DNI), some angst.
Based on this request
Part 2
Note: I will be posting Part 2 in a few minutes, I just need to proofread it!
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You relocated to Barcelona, hoping for a fresh start—a new city, new people, and a chance to rebuild your life with your three-year-old daughter, Mia.
You needed a place where the past wouldn’t haunt you, where you could finally focus on giving Mia the stable life she deserves.
It hasn’t been easy. You spent five years with your ex-boyfriend, someone you once believed was your forever. But over time, the cracks began to show.
He cheated on you more times than you care to remember, always finding excuses, always making promises he never kept.
When you discovered you were pregnant, you thought maybe things would change—that becoming parents might finally bring him closer.
Instead, the moment he found out about the pregnancy, he walked out on you without a second thought.
He left you to carry the weight of it all alone—heartbroken, pregnant, and unsure of what the future held.
Here in Barcelona, you met your neighbor, Carmen, a true blessing in your life. From the very first day you moved in, she was there—knocking on your door with a plate of home-cooked food, her warm smile making you feel like you weren’t quite so far from home.
Additionally, Carmen speaks English, which has been a great relief. Navigating a new country is challenging enough, and trying to learn Spanish on top of it all has been overwhelming at times.
Still, you believe your Spanish is at a decent level.
So when you first realized she was fluent, it felt like another little gift from the universe.
Carmen, with her silver-streaked hair and lively eyes, quickly became a constant in your new world, someone who seemed to understand without asking too many questions.
“You remind me of my daughter,” she’d say often, her tone affectionate as she’d pass by your door or hand you a fresh loaf of bread from the bakery down the street.
It didn’t take long before she offered you a job at her pride and joy—her little flower shop on the corner. “It’s nothing fancy,” she’d told you with a shrug, “but it’s my heart. And I could use the help. You’ll like it, trust me.”
At first, you hesitated. You hadn’t planned on working with flowers, or working at all, not while you were still getting your bearings in a new city.
But Carmen’s offer came at just the right time, and something about her made it impossible to refuse.
The shop itself is small but beautiful. The soft light from the street filters through the windows in the morning, casting a warm glow over the arrangements of roses, lilies, and wildflowers.
You spend your first days trimming stems, arranging blooms, and greeting customers. It’s peaceful in a way you hadn’t expected—almost therapeutic.
——
One afternoon, while you’re carefully arranging a bouquet behind the counter, the soft chime of the doorbell rang through the shop. You glanced up, and there she is—Alexia Putellas.
Her arrival is impossible to miss. Not only because she’s Barcelona’s football darling, her face splashed across billboards all over the city, but because she’s also infamous for her reputation. A womanizer. The kind of woman who seems to have a new lover every week.
Carmen had spoken of her often, describing how Alexia visits the shop almost daily. To Carmen, she’s practically like a daughter.
But until now, you hadn’t seen Alexia yourself. She’s been away, traveling for football matches.
Your daughter, Mia, is a huge fan of hers, idolizing her both as a footballer and a larger-than-life figure.
You’d never told Mia about Alexia’s reputation though—it wasn’t something your three-year-old needed to know obviously.
Alexia entered the shop with that unmistakable swagger, every movement filled with a quiet confidence that immediately grabs attention.
She’s not alone either. A shorter woman is draped under her arm, looking relaxed and cozy, as if she’s used to being in such close proximity to Alexia.
It’s unclear whether she’s a friend or one of Alexia’s many "flings," but the way they moved together hints at something more, or perhaps nothing at all. With Alexia, it’s hard to tell.
Alexia greeted Carmen as though she’s just stopped by to visit family.
She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Carmen’s cheek. “¡Hola, Carmen!” she said warmly. “¡Qué gusto verte! Te he echado de menos.” (Hi, Carmen! It's so good to see you! I've missed you)
Carmen beamed, clearly delighted to see her. “¡Alexia! ¡Qué alegría verte de nuevo!” she exclaimed , her voice filled with affection. (Alexia! What a joy to see you again)
“Hace tiempo que no pasabas por aquí. ¿Cómo te ha ido? Todo bien con los partidos?” (It's been a while since you last came by. How have you been? Everything going well with the matches?)
“Todo bien, gracias. Una temporada agotadora, pero estamos ganando, así que vale la pena,” Alexia replied, her eyes drifting around the shop before locking onto you. (All good, thanks. It's been an exhausting season, but we're winning, so it's worth it)
“Esta es Laura,” she added casually, introducing the woman at her side. (This is Laura)
“Laura, te presento a Carmen, la dueña de esta maravillosa floristería.” (Laura, let me introduce you to Carmen, the owner of this wonderful flower shop)
Laura smiled kindly at Carmen. “Encantada, Carmen,” she said, her voice soft but genuine. (Nice to meet you, Carmen)
“El placer es mío, Laura,” Carmen replied. “¿Qué te trae por Barcelona?” (The pleasure is mine, Laura.What brings you to Barcelona?)
Laura shrugged with a small laugh. “Estoy aquí de visita. Alexia me está mostrando la ciudad.” (I'm here visiting. Alexia is showing me around the city.)
The conversation flowed easily between them, but Alexia’s gaze kept drifting back to you.
Her eyes swept over you in a way that felt unsettling—almost predatory, as if she were sizing you up.
It’s a look you’ve seen before—back when you were too trusting, too naive, and ended up burned by someone who once gazed at you the same way.
After a bit of back-and-forth, Carmen invited Laura to check out some of the newer flower arrangements, leading her away from the counter. And that’s when Alexia seized her moment.
She walked over to you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Hola, guapa,” she said in a tone dripping with confidence. “No creo que nos hayamos conocido. Soy Alexia.” (Hello, gorgeous.I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alexia)
You focused on your work, refusing to meet her gaze. “Y/N,” you replied coolly, your voice polite but distant.
“Un placer, Y/N,” Alexia continued, clearly undeterred by your indifference. (Nice to meet you, Y/N)
She leaned casually on the counter, her eyes following the movements of your hands as you arranged the flowers. “Sabes, tienes un gran talento con las flores”. (You know, you have a real talent with flowers)
You kept your expression neutral, fully aware of what she was trying to do. You were tired of smooth talkers, especially someone like Alexia, who likely believed she could charm anyone into bed.
You’ve seen it all before—Mia’s father had the same cocky attitude before he left you when things got tough.
Without looking up, you switched to English, knowing full well that Alexia speaks it fluently. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate you flirting with someone else.”
Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah, what a beautiful voice you have, Y/N,” she replied in flawless English, her thick accent making her cockiness even more apparent.
“She’s not my girlfriend, don’t worry. Just a friend… we have a lot of fun together.” She winked at you, making her meaning painfully clear.
You rolled your eyes and refocused on the flowers, hoping that by ignoring her, she would eventually leave you alone.
But Alexia leaned closer, not giving up so easily. “You seem annoyed. I could help with that, you know,” she said, her voice low and suggestive.
You let out a huff, finally meeting her gaze. “You’re the one annoying me.”
Alexia chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “Feisty. I like it,” she said, leaning even closer, her grin widening. “You know, people like you? They’re always incredible in bed.”
You shot her a withering glare but remained silent, resolved not to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
You figured that if you didn’t engage, she would get bored and leave. Just before she could say anything else, though, Laura called for her from across the shop.
Alexia straightened up, glancing over at Laura before turning back to you with a smirk. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be right back,” she said, winking playfully before sauntering off.
You watched as she approached Laura, wrapping her arms around her from behind and brushing her lips against the top of Laura’s head.
As if sensing your gaze, Alexia glanced back your way and sent you another wink, clearly enjoying the game she was playing.
You rolled your eyes again, muttering under your breath as you gave her the finger. Alexia just grinned, clearly amused, before turning back to Laura.
Eventually, they returned to the counter to pay. Carmen chatted happily with them as they gathered their things, but you kept your focus on your work, doing your best to ignore Alexia’s presence.
As they finished paying, Alexia turned to you one last time. “Adios, Y/N,” she said with a playful wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You didn’t bother replying, simply giving her a blank look as she left the shop, the bell chiming softly behind her.
Once they were gone, Carmen walked over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she said gently. “I left you alone with Alexia. She can be… intense.”
“Intense is an understatement.”you replied with a small laugh.
Carmen chuckled, shaking her head. “Yes, I know. She really enjoys the company of women, but I promise you, she’s a good person at heart. You just need to get to know her better.”
You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure,” you muttered, not believing a word of it.
——
“Mommy!” Your daughter’s voice called out as soon as you walked through the door of your apartment, returning home from work.
“Hi, baby! I missed you so much,” you said, scooping her up and wrapping her in a tight hug, showering her face with kisses.
“I missed you too!” she giggled, her small arms clinging to you.
You gently set her down and handed her the single flower you’d brought home. It had become a ritual—bringing her a different flower each week because she absolutely adored them.
“Ooh, this one is so pretty! Thank you, Mommy,” she said, planting a kiss on your cheek before dashing off to her room, likely to add her new flower to the others.
“Muchísimas gracias, María,” you said, turning to María, Mia’s babysitter, who had been helping you since you arrived in Barcelona. You handed her a small envelope with money. (Thank you very much,María)
“You’re welcome, Y/N. I love taking care of her. Es una niña maravillosa,” María responded warmly, her smile genuine. (She’s a wonderful girl)
María has been babysitting Mia since you moved to Barcelona. As Mia hasn’t started school yet, she’s still learning Spanish, and María has played a key role in helping her with that.
“Mia, come say goodbye to María, please,” you called out.
Mia came running, her face lighting up as she threw herself into María’s arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Adiós, María,” she said in sweet, accented Spanish.
“Adiós, Mia. Hasta mañana,” María replied, giving her a final hug before turning to you. “Adiós,” she said, and you echoed her farewell as she left.
After dinner, Mia begged you to let her watch the Barcelona match. You rolled your eyes internally at the thought of seeing Alexia again, even if only on the screen, but Mia’s big, pleading eyes made it impossible to refuse.
Now, you’re settled in front of the TV with Mia snuggled next to you, both of you watching the match. Mia is practically vibrating with excitement.
When Alexia scored a goal, Mia leaped up from the couch, clapping her hands and cheering loudly. “Did you see that, Mommy? It was amazing!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she mimicked Alexia’s celebration, kissing her shirt just like Alexia did on the screen.
“Yes, I saw that,” you replied, forcing a smile even though your heart wasn’t in it. You couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration at how deeply Mia admired Alexia.
“I want to be just like her when I grow up,” Mia declared, her gaze fixed intently on the TV. Her little hands were raised, as if she were celebrating her own goal.
“Eww, no,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
“Why not?” Mia asked, her voice quivering slightly. “I want to be a great player like Alexia. you think I can’t ?”
“Shit, Y/N, think before you speak!” you mentally reprimanded yourself, recognizing that your impulsive reaction could have hurt her feelings.
Your heart melted at the sincerity shining in her eyes.
“Of course you can be a great player,” you said, lifting Mia onto your lap and kissing her forehead.
“Even better than Alexia. But remember, you don’t have to be like her. You can be yourself and still be amazing.”
“Yes! I can be better!” she exclaimed, her spirits lifted. She turns back to the TV, still nestled in your arms, eyes glued to the game.
As you watch the match, you can’t help but feel conflicted. You understand that Alexia’s skill on the field has earned her immense admiration and a place in Mia’s heart.
Yet, you found it difficult to reconcile your daughter’s admiration for someone whose reputation clashed so sharply with your own values.
——
“Hola, guapa. I missed you since yesterday,” you heard Alexia’s voice, laced with her trademark confidence, as you arranged some flowers in a pot.
Startled, you turned to find her standing just behind you. With Carmen out for her dentist appointment, it was just you and Alexia. You let out a sigh, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over you.
You attempted to ignore her, concentrating hard on your task at hand.
“Hey, it’s rude to ignore a customer,” Alexia teased, her tone playfully mocking. “I might just have to tell Carmen about this.”
“You’re not a customer, just a nuisance,” you shot back curtly as you made your way toward the register.
Alexia followed you, casually leaning against the counter with her elbow propped up and her chin resting on her hand, her gaze fixed intently on you.
“Oh, me encanta cuando las mujeres se hacen las difíciles. Es un gran excitante“ (Oh, I love it when women play hard to get. It’s such a turn-on)
“I’m not playing hard to get; I genuinely have no interest,” you replied, focusing on cutting the roses.
Alexia’s smirk grew wider. “Oh, really? Who isn’t interested in me? Me has visto? (Have you seen me?)
You glanced her up and down, feigning disinterest. “Yes, I see you, but there’s not much to see,” you retorted, even though you couldn't deny her stunning looks.
“Por favor, amor, you and I both know you’re lying,” she replied with a smirk, clearly relishing the back-and-forth.
She continued, “You know, last night I had a match.” You merely hummed in response, your disinterest evident as you focused on your work. “Did you watch it?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of pride.
You made a face of mild disgust before lying, “No.”
“Qué pena,” she said with a self-satisfied grin.(What a shame)
“We won, and I even scored a goal—just for you,” she added, her tone brimming with confidence and a hint of arrogance.
You can’t help but scoff at her audacity. “Do you use that line on every girl you want in your bed?” you asked, finally looking up from arranging the flowers.
“A few of them,” she replied with a casual shrug, her playful smile still intact.
You tried to brush off the way she was getting under your skin. “So, what do you want? Carmen won’t be here until this afternoon if you’re looking for her.”
Alexia's eyes sparkled with mischief. “I didn’t come for Carmen. I just wanted to see you. Echaba de menos tu actitud atrevida,” she said, her gaze lingering on you as she bit her lip. (I missed your feisty attitude)
You pointed the flower cutter at her, trying to emphasize your point. “Don’t make me use this on you.”
Alexia’s grin only grew wider. “Dios, you’re so incredibly hot when you’re all aggressive. It just makes me want you more.”
You decided to ignore her comment.
“I want to buy some flowers,” she finally said, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Well, there are plenty of flowers to choose from. Just pick what you want, pay, and then leave,” you snapped, your patience wearing thin.
“Hey! No need to be rude,” she teased, crossing her arms as she sat on the counter. “Necesito un consejo.” (I need some advice)
You looked at her, signaling for her to continue.
“So, what kind of flowers should I get to say I’m sorry?” she asked, her tone surprisingly earnest.
Recognizing her genuine curiosity, you decided to help out. “You might want to consider blue hyacinths. They symbolize sincerity and heartfelt apologies,” you suggested, motioning for her to follow you as you walked over to the flowers.
“Or red carnations,” you added, pointing to another option. “They also symbolize an apology and love.”
Alexia studied the flowers with a focused intensity that caught your attention, her fingers lightly brushing over the petals as she contemplated her choices.
Standing this close, the faint scent of her perfume enveloped you, making it hard to resist being drawn in.
You realize you’re watching her more than you intended, taking in how her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders, glinting in the light.
Her hazel eyes appeared even brighter in the soft glow of the shop, framed by thick lashes that enhanced her striking beauty.
She stood tall, her toned figure moving with an effortless grace that naturally commanded attention.
For a moment, you're caught off guard, realizing just how incredibly gorgeous she really is.
“Ay! I can’t decide. Which one would be more fitting for ‘I’m sorry for kicking you out of my bed, bruising you, and making you leave half-naked because my sister was coming over? But hey, will you come back and have sex with me again?’” she said casually, pulling you out of your daze.
You stared at her in disbelief before finally saying, “The blue hyacinths,” and pushed them toward her chest before walking away.
Alexia headed to the counter, pulling out her wallet. “Gracias. I hope she’ll love them. How much?” she asked, her smirk never fading.
You told her the total, and she handed over the money. But rather than walking away, she moved around the counter with a sly grin.
Before you knew it, she had you cornered, her presence dominating the small space between you and the wall. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer.
“What do you want now? As a customer, you’re not supposed to be on this side of the counter,” you said, meeting her gaze with defiance.
Alexia leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. “I’ll get you in my bed one day. I saw the way you looked at me. Estás tan cerca de ceder” (You’re so close to giving in)
“The only time I’ll be in your bed is in your dreams,” you whispered back, maintaining your defiant tone.
Alexia’s smile is both wicked and confident. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my bed, even if it’s just in my dreams,” she said before turning to leave.
She paused at the door, glancing back with a sly smile. “I don’t give up easily,” she added before walking out.
You watched her leave, a mix of frustration and unwanted attraction coursing through you.
——
The next morning, you found Alexia back in the shop, but this time, Carmen was there too, much to your relief.
As you stepped out of the back room, you noticed Alexia with a different woman, not Laura, whom you had previously met.
You assumed this was the woman Alexia needed to apologize to.
You arranged the flowers on display, offering Alexia and her companion a brief, polite greeting before moving to the other side of the shop.
While bending over to adjust some flowers, you heard Alexia’s unmistakable voice. “Hmm, me encanta ver a las mujeres inclinarse así. Es mi posición favorita.” (Hmm, I love watching women bend over like that. It’s my favorite position.)
You straightened up immediately and shot her a sharp look.
“I see the flowers worked,” you said, nodding toward the woman Alexia had entered the store with.
“Oh, that’s not her! But yes, they worked” Alexia replied with a self-satisfied smirk.
“I just wanted to thank you. Gracias a ti, tuve una noche increíble,” she said, giving you a playful eyebrow wiggle. (Thanks to you, I had an amazing night.)
You rolled your eyes and turned away, trying to ignore her.
Later, as you and Carmen are working at the register, Alexia and her date approached, carrying a bouquet of flowers.
“Oh, ¡buena elección! Las rosas rojas siempre son una excelente opción,” Carmen said enthusiastically, and the woman thanked her. (Oh, good choice! Red roses are always a great option.)
Alexia’s arm is draped casually around her current date’s shoulders, a gesture of intimacy that’s impossible to ignore.
As she pulled her wallet from her handbag, she handed Carmen a generous tip along with the payment for the flowers.
“Espera un momento para tu cambio; no hay suficiente en la caja,” Carmen said, her voice trailing off as she headed into the back room.(Hold on for your change; there’s not enough in the register)
With Carmen out of sight, Alexia turned her attention back to her date, a playful smirk curling on her lips.
She slid her hand around the woman’s neck, her touch both firm and tender, tilting her head back. Alexia leaned down slowly, her movements deliberate and sensuous.
She planted a deep, lingering kiss on her date’s lips.
As their lips met, you could see Alexia’s tongue gently sliding into the woman’s mouth, adding a more intimate, passionate touch to the kiss.
Her eyes though remain locked on yours throughout, a challenge in her gaze as if daring you to react.
The kiss seemed to stretch in defiance of time, with Alexia’s lips lingering and her fingers lightly tracing the woman’s neck.
The soft, rhythmic sound of their kissing was the only noise in the room, creating an almost palpable tension that seemed to fill the entire space.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly relishing the provocative display she was creating. As she continued to kiss her date with a slow, deliberate intensity, she stared at you, her gaze both teasing and challenging.
With a playful wink, she seemed to savor the effect her performance was having on you, fully aware of the spectacle she was making.
As Carmen’s footsteps drew nearer, Alexia slowly and reluctantly pulled away, her expression one of satisfaction.
With a smirk, she casually wiped with her thumb the lingering trace of saliva from the woman’s lips, clearly pleased with the effect of their intimate display.
She turned to you, her expression a mix of mischief and confidence.
Her gaze remained steady, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of challenge. You met her stare, striving to maintain your composure despite the palpable tension in the air.
You narrowed your eyes at her, feeling the heat of the moment as you struggled to maintain your professional demeanor amidst the charged atmosphere created by Alexia’s bold flirtation.
“Carmen, ¿podrías arreglar que estas flores se entreguen en mi casa mañana por la mañana?” Alexia asked sweetly, her gaze flickering to you with an almost imperceptible, suggestive glint. (Carmen, could you arrange for some flowers to be delivered to my house tomorrow morning?)
“Sí, por supuesto. Y/N, ¿podrías encargarte de la entrega?” Carmen asked you with a gentle smile. (Yes, of course. Y/N, would you be able to handle the delivery?)
You forced a polite smile and nodded. “Of course,” you replied, feeling Alexia’s gaze linger on you. She beamed, giving you a subtle, mischievous wink that made your heart skip a beat.
“¡Genial! Entonces, Carmen, te enviaré un mensaje con los detalles más tarde, ¿está bien?” Alexia said her tone almost triumphant as she looked at Carmen. (Great! Then, Carmen, I’ll send you a message with the details later, okay?)
“¡Claro!” Carmen replied warmly, handing back the flowers and Alexia’s change. (Of course.)
“Nos vemos mañana,” Alexia said with a lingering, teasing smile and blowing you a kiss before turning to leave. (See you tomorrow.)
Her smile promised more than just a casual encounter.
Carmen watched her go and then turned to you with a knowing grin.
“Please, don’t,” you said, shaking your head as you walked away, hearing Carmen’s amused chuckle behind you.
——
“Mommy?” Your daughter’s voice piped up during dinner, catching your attention.
“Yes, darling?” You looked up from your meal, focusing on her earnest face.
“One day, can I come to your work with you? I really want to see the pretty flowers,” she asked, her large eyes full of hope and excitement.
“I’ll have to ask Carmen about that first,” you said, and her eyes lit up with a bright smile.
“So that means it’s a yes, right? Because Carmen loves me so much. She always tells me she loves me,” she said, her grin widening as she swung her legs under the table.
“Of course, Carmen adores you. It’s impossible not to with how adorable you are,” you said, reaching over to gently squeeze her cheek.
You planted a series of soft, playful kisses on her cheek, making her giggle uncontrollably.
——
“Alright, it’s here,” you muttered to yourself as you arrived at Alexia’s apartment with her flower delivery.
She had ordered three large bouquets—two of red roses and one of white roses.
You knocked on the door, but there was no response. After waiting several minutes, you tried again, this time rapping more insistently. Still, silence.
Growing increasingly frustrated and determined, you delivered one last, resolute knock.
After a few more minutes, Alexia finally opened the door, looking slightly breathless and dressed only in a sports bra and shorts.
“Hola, guapa. Sorry for the wait, I was… busy. Please, come in,” she said with an inviting smile, opening the door wider as you stepped inside.
“Here. You can put them on the kitchen table,” she gestured to a white table.
“Were you working out?” you asked, noting her sweaty appearance and minimal attire.
She smirked, her confidence barely contained. “You could say that. Just working on my cardio.”
You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over her defined abs and the tattooed elegance of her back. She was stunning, a vision of physical perfection.
Your admiration was interrupted by the sound of voices. Turning around, you saw two tall and impossibly beautiful women, one brunette and one blonde emerging from a room. They looked like they could be models.
“Damas,” Alexia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “tuve una noche y mañana increíble con ambas” as she handed them the red rose bouquets. (Ladies,I had an amazing night and morning with both of you)
The brunette woman leaned in first, her lips brushing against Alexia's in a soft, lingering kiss.
Afterward, the blonde woman approached, her kiss equally tender, adding to the intimate exchange.
You couldn’t help but cringe at the sight, the display of affection feeling overly intimate and uncomfortable.
Alexia escorted them to the door, bidding them farewell with playful pats and a cheeky slap on each of their butts.
You once again cringed at the sight.
Once Alexia closed the door, she turned back to you with a smug, challenging grin.
“Can you please pay so I can get back to work?” you said, trying to keep your tone steady but feeling your frustration simmering.
“Yes, of course,but first I a gift for you” Alexia replied,she walked over to the kitchen table, picked up the bouquet of white roses, and handed them to you with an almost mocking flourish.
You raised an eyebrow, feeling a surge of annoyance. “I don’t want it,” you said flatly.
Alexia’s smirk didn’t waver. “Fine. I’ll just give it to the girl I’m seeing tonight.”
“Yeah, do that. Now, please pay,so I can go back to work” you insisted, your patience wearing thin.
“Don’t you want to relax a bit? There’s a couch over there, or maybe something more comfortable—like my bed?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“That’s why you wanted the flowers delivered? To lure me into your bed?” you snapped, your anger boiling over.
“Maybe,” she said, her tone smug and unrepentant, and that was the breaking point.
“So, you had me deliver these flowers, made me wait outside while you were fucking two women, and now you’re trying to bribe me with a bouquet to get me into bed?” you demanded, your voice rising with each word.
“Exactly,” she said, her demeanor unshaken. “I wanted to show you that I can have any women I want. I just had an incredible night with two women. No one can resist me, so why do you?”
You were fuming, your words coming out sharp and hurtful. “"Listen closely, Alexia, because I’m only going to say this once. I would never sleep someone like you. You’re selfish, arrogant, and unbearably overconfident. You think no one can resist you because of your looks or your celebrity status, but that’s a mistake. People are drawn to the idea of being with a celebrity, not to you as a person. They use you just as you use them. You’re nothing more than a lonely woman who sleeps around because you lack meaningful connections. Your allure may attract attention, but it’s clear you have no real relationships. You’re just filling a void, and that’s not something I’d ever want to be a part of. You are pathetic.”
You locked eyes with her, every word stinging. “Stay away from me.”
Alexia’s expression shifted from smug to shocked, her face falling. Her eyes glistened with hurt as she stared at the floor.
“Um…okay… voy a buscar mi billetera. Vuelvo enseguida.” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she turned away quickly. (I’m just going to get my wallet. I’ll be right back)
As you watched Alexia turn away, a pang of regret began to sink in. You realized that your outburst might have been fueled more by your unresolved feelings about your ex than by anything Alexia had done.
The way she carried herself, her bravado, and her seeming lack of genuine connections struck a nerve, bringing your past frustrations to the surface.
You could see how your words might have been more a reflection of your own pain and disillusionment than a fair judgment of her.
Even though some of what you said was truthful, the intensity of your anger revealed how deeply you were affected by your own experiences.
Alexia returned with the payment, handing it to you with a subdued “You can keep the change.” Her voice was soft, her usual confidence replaced by a vulnerable quietness.
You took the money, nodding curtly. Without another word, you turned and left her apartment, heading back to the flower shop with a heavy heart.
——
For three days, Alexia hadn’t shown up to the store, and the gnawing guilt was becoming harder to ignore.
You tried not to dwell on it, but it lingered in the back of your mind. The shop felt quieter without her presence, and the longer the silence stretched, the more you felt the weight of your actions. You knew it wasn’t just a coincidence—your outburst had driven her away.
Carmen noticed it too. On the third day, as the two of you were arranging flowers for a new display, she finally spoke up.
“Has Alexia said anything to you?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of worry.
You shook your head, not wanting to meet her eyes. “No… Why?”
“It’s just strange, isn’t it? Alexia not coming by for this long, especially when she’s still in Barcelona. It’s… odd,” she said, glancing at you carefully.
You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. Carmen was right—Alexia had been a regular at the shop, her visits frequent and, despite her cocky attitude, somewhat predictable.
You tried to focus on the flowers in your hand, but the words hung heavy on your tongue.
“Did something happen?” Carmen asked softly, her voice more knowing than questioning.
At first, you tried to brush it off. “Nothing happened,” you mumbled, but Carmen raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. You sighed, knowing there was no point in lying.
“Alright… something did happen,” you admitted, setting the flowers down. Carmen leaned in slightly, her attention fully on you.
“She’s been… acting a certain way ever since I met her. You know, making these dirty jokes, flirting nonstop, doing things to get a reaction out of me.” You hesitated, unsure if you should tell her the rest, but Carmen waited patiently.
“She—uh—made out with someone in front of me while staring right at me,” you continued, feeling the irritation rise again as you remembered that morning. “But it wasn’t just that. When I went to her apartment for her flowers delivery, there were these two women at her apartment. She made me wait outside while she was… busy with them. Then she gave me some stupid roses, trying to get me to sleep with her.” The words spilled out faster now. “That’s when I snapped.”
Carmen looked shocked, her brows furrowing in surprise. “And what did you say?”
You hesitated again, but Carmen gave you an encouraging nod, so you told her the whole truth. “I basically told her she was selfish, cocky, and overconfident. That people only used her because she’s a celebrity, and she’s just a lonely woman who sleeps around because she has no real connections.” As the words came out, you cringed, realizing just how harsh they had been.
Carmen stared at you for a moment, processing everything. Then, she let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. “Wow… that’s… a lot,” she said slowly. “I understand why you blew up, honestly, with how she was acting. Alexia can be… well, a little much. But those words?” Carmen hesitated, glancing at you sympathetically. “I think they might’ve hurt her more than you realize.”
You scoffed lightly, though not out of amusement. “Hurt her? Carmen, she was literally flaunting two women in my face like it was some kind of power move.”
“I know, I know,” Carmen replied gently, “and that’s exactly why I think she was hurt. Look, Alexia may put on this big, confident show, but I’ve known her for a while. Underneath all of that, she’s a lot more sensitive than she lets on.”
You frowned, processing Carmen’s words. “She didn’t seem too sensitive when she was throwing those women in my face.”
“She’s hiding behind it,” Carmen said, shrugging slightly. “People act like that when they’re trying to protect themselves. Not saying it excuses her behavior, but it explains it. She’s not used to people seeing past the surface.”
You slumped against the counter, feeling torn between your anger and guilt. “I don’t know… maybe I took it too far. She just reminded me so much of my ex. It’s like I wasn’t just yelling at her, but at him too.”
Carmen smiled softly, her eyes warm with understanding. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. Look, I get it. Sometimes old wounds can make us lash out at the wrong people. Alexia just happened to push the wrong buttons.”
You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “What should I do? I can’t just pretend nothing happened.”
Carmen chuckled softly, patting your shoulder. “I’d say maybe you owe her a conversation. But don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re both adults, and you’ll figure it out. Trust me, Alexia’s tough, but she’s not as unbreakable as she pretends to be.”
She gave you a playful nudge and added with a smirk, “Besides, you know what they say about love and hate, right? Sometimes they’re closer than you think.”
You rolled your eyes at Carmen’s teasing, but deep down, her words gave you a lot to think about.
——
Two days after your conversation with Carmen, Alexia finally made her reappearance.
You were busy assisting a couple of clients when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed her walk into the shop.
She carried a bouquet of flowers in her hand, and for a brief moment, the world outside your conversation with the clients seemed to fade away.
The air felt heavier with her presence, but at the same time, the absence of the usual playful energy she brought with her was unmistakable.
The store had felt quieter without her, and the weight of the silence between you two was something you could no longer ignore.
You had driven her away. That much was clear.
You noticed Alexia standing by the counter, her eyes fixed on you.There was none of her usual cocky confidence.
Her posture was more reserved, even hesitant. When you finished with the clients and they finally left, it was just the two of you in the shop, the tension thick in the air.
She took a step closer, her movements slower than usual. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted softly, her voice noticeably different.
Gone was the teasing arrogance you had grown accustomed to. Instead, it was quiet, almost vulnerable.
“Hola,” you replied, matching her tone. You weren’t sure what to expect from her, but this... this wasn’t it.
She handed you the bouquet—blue hyacinths. The flowers of apology. Alexia had remembered.
“These are for you. I... I wanted to apologize for how I acted. What I did was wrong, and I’m really sorry,” she said, holding your gaze, her eyes filled with sincerity.
You took the flowers, their fragrance soft and delicate, but their meaning hit you harder. “Thank you, Alexia. I, um, I need to apologize too. My words that day were... I shouldn’t have said all of that. I was just really angry and—” You began to ramble, but Alexia gently interrupted you.
“No, don’t apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “You had every right to be upset. I made you wait, wasted your time, and I... pushed you too far. I’ve been making things difficult for you since day one. I made you crazy, though not exactly the way I hoped,” she added with a light laugh, trying to keep things casual. But as soon as the words left her lips, she grimaced, regretting the joke.
Before she could apologize for that too, you smiled—a small, genuine smile.
Alexia froze for a second, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What?” you asked, confused by her reaction.
“You smiled,” she repeated softly, her voice a mixture of awe and surprise.
You raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“Nunca sonríes. Bueno... no hacia mí, de todos modos. Así que sí, estoy un poco sorprendida en este momento,” she said, as if it was the most mind-blowing revelation she’d ever had. (You never smile. Well... not at me, anyway. So, yeah, I’m kind of shocked right now)
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, Alexia, you’re ridiculous.”
But Alexia’s expression softened even more, her eyes full of warmth as she watched you laugh.
“And now you’re laughing too? Wow, a smile and a laugh in the same conversation? I must be the luckiest person alive,” she said, playfully over-exaggerating her excitement.
“You’re being ridiculous,” you said again, though your heart wasn’t in it. Instead, you were secretly touched by her joy over such a small thing.
You brought the bouquet to your nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance as you studied her face.
Alexia’s gaze softened even further. “You have a beautiful smile, you know that?” she said quietly, the sincerity in her words catching you off guard.
You felt your cheeks warm under her compliment, and you quickly shook your head. “Alright, let’s not push your luck,” you said, still smiling despite yourself.
Alexia’s nervousness seemed to ease at your reaction, and she hesitated for a moment before holding out her hand. “So... am I forgiven?”
You pretended to consider it, watching the subtle anxiety creep back into her expression. Finally, you nodded. “You’re forgiven.”
A visible sigh of relief washed over her as she pumped her fist in a small victory. “Yes!” she whispered under her breath, her joy almost contagious.
She then extended her hand to you, a playful glint in her eye. “Dado que estoy perdonada, creo que deberíamos empezar de nuevo. Una pizarra limpia, ¿sí?” (Since I’m forgiven, I think we should start over. Clean slate, si?)
You blinked, surprised at her gesture, but after a brief moment, you took her hand in yours. Her grip was firm but gentle, her skin warm and soft. “Alright,” you agreed, amused by the formality of it all. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”
“Soy Alexia,” she said with a grin, shaking your hand like it was the first time you’d ever met. “Encantada, Y/N.”
The absurdity of the moment made you both smile. It was corny, yes, but endearing in a way you hadn’t expected.
For a brief second, as you shook hands, you found yourself getting lost in her hazel eyes. There was a softness there, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.
She wasn’t just the flirtatious, cocky woman you had met. She was... more. And for the first time, you found yourself truly seeing her.
Before anything could be said, the sound of Carmen entering the shop snapped you both back to reality.
You quickly let go of Alexia’s hand, almost like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have.
“¡Ahh, Alexia! ¡Has vuelto!” Carmen exclaimed, pulling Alexia into a warm hug. (Aahh, Alexia! You’re back!)
Alexia returned the embrace, though she shot you a sheepish smile over Carmen’s shoulder.
When they broke apart, Carmen affectionately pinched Alexia’s cheek before pulling her head down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Era hora, niña. La tienda ha estado demasiado tranquila sin ti provocando problemas.” (It’s about time, niña. The shop’s been too quiet without you stirring up trouble.)
Carmen’s eyes flicked to the flowers in your hand, and she raised an eyebrow at Alexia. “Hmm, jacintos azules. Buena elección” she remarked, giving Alexia a playful pat on the back before disappearing into the back room. (Hmm, blue hyacinths. Good choice)
Alexia laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.
You smirked at her, your eyebrow raised. “So... did you cheat on us and go to another flower shop to buy these?”
Alexia’s laugh was light as she shook her head. “No way. I bought them here, I swear, you were not here. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheater,” she joked, her voice playful yet sincere.
For some reason, you believed her. As flirtatious and free-spirited as she was, Alexia didn’t seem like the type who would betray someone’s trust.
That thought settled something inside you. You found yourself smiling again as you looked at her, the distance between you both feeling much smaller now.
——
From that moment, things between you and Alexia shifted. While her flirting persisted, it became less cocky or overconfident, but still very much her.
But became a little more softer and kinder, making you laugh instead of feeling irritated. Carmen had been right; Alexia could be genuinely sweet when she chose to be.
You never mentioned your daughter to Alexia, thinking it best to keep that part of your life separate.
If your daughter knew you were in contact with her idol daily, she’d beg to come along. Besides, despite Alexia’s more bearable demeanor, you wouldn’t want your daughter around her.
Alexia’s habit of seeing a different girl each day remained unchanged, but each time you saw her with someone new or flirting, a pang of jealousy twisted in your stomach.
One day at the store, it was just you and Alexia. She was recounting her morning training session, and the conversation flowed effortlessly.
At one point, you were telling Alexia a very interesting story. Alexia was hanging on to every word, her focus entirely on you, until the door swung open and a strikingly tall brunette entered the store.
Alexia’s gaze snapped away from you, her head turning to follow the woman’s entrance. She was instantly fixated, her attention now fully captured by the newcomer.
The woman greeted both of you, her gaze lingering a bit longer on Alexia. Seeing that Alexia had completely shifted her attention, you sighed and stopped speaking.
You resumed your task, trimming the thorns off the roses. Meanwhile, Alexia continued to stare at the woman, her eyes practically devouring her.
You walked out from behind the counter to put the roses on display, and only then did Alexia seem to realize you were still there.
“Ay, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Please, tell me the end of your story,” she said, following you with an apologetic look.
You sighed, trying to downplay your irritation. The shift in Alexia’s focus from you to the beautiful woman stung more than you expected. “It’s okay. You can go talk to her,” you said, avoiding eye contact.
Alexia hesitated, clearly feeling guilty. “No, really, I want to hear the end of your story,” she insisted, her gaze flickering back to the woman who was still eyeing her.
Were you jealous? Maybe a little but you had been through similar situations before and were determined not to fall into the same trap. Protecting your heart was crucial.
Despite enjoying Alexia’s company lately, you felt it was wiser to keep things minimal and friendly, especially with the feelings you were grappling with.
“No, it’s fine. Go talk to her,” you said, walking away.
Alexia, although still feeling bad, couldn’t resist and moved toward the woman.
From your position at the register, you watched as Alexia approached her with a wide smile.
You saw them chatting, smiling, and occasionally touching each other’s arms. Each gesture twisted your stomach with unease.
Eventually, as you were counting the register’s money, Alexia and the woman came back to you. The woman greeted you again, and you felt Alexia’s eyes on you, but you focused on the woman instead.
“Serán 12 euros, por favor” you told her. Before she could reach for her wallet, Alexia placed her hand over the woman’s, stopping her. (That will be 12 euros, please)
“Está bien, cariño. Yo me encargo” Alexia said, her smile gentle as she handed you the money. The woman thanked Alexia with a kiss on the cheek, making you roll your eyes mentally. (It’s okay, cariño. I’ve got it)
You accepted the money and then gave Alexia her change, avoiding her attempts at eye contact.
The woman thanked you and prepared to leave but then turned back to Alexia. “¿Podrías esperar afuera unos minutos? Ya salgo” she said, smiling. Alexia nodded and watched her leave. (Could you wait outside for a few minutes? I’ll be right out)
Alexia turned back to you, remaining silent. You looked up. “What?” you asked, confused.
“What’s the end of your story?” Alexia asked, clearly eager to know how it concluded.
You sighed. “Alexia, the girl’s waiting for you,” you said, not looking at her.
“But I want to know the end!” she said, almost pleading, her tone earnest and insistent.
“Well, you would have known if you had been listening in the first place,” you replied, your voice carrying a note of frustration.
Alexia fell silent for a moment. “I’m really sorry, I just got… distracted,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the glass door where the woman was waiting.
“Yeah, I know,” you said flatly. Alexia remained silent, and your patience wore thin. “Alexia, can you go now? The girl’s waiting, and I have a lot of work to do,” you said, exasperated.
Alexia bit her lip, looking at you as if you had done something cruel. “Yes, I’ll go. I’m sorry,” she said.
She walked toward the front door, glancing back one last time before leaving.
Once she was gone, you let out a deep breath. Damn it, you were jealous that Alexia was going out with another woman. This couldn’t be happening, you were attracted to her.
——
“Absolutely, Mia can come to the store!” Carmen responded, her voice full of warmth and enthusiasm after you mentioned the possibility of Mia joining you at work.
“Thank you so much, Carmen! She’s going to be ecstatic. She’s been asking me nonstop about it,” you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
And that was the truth—Mia had been relentless, pestering you every day with the same question. You’d been avoiding giving her a straight answer, constantly making excuses.
Mostly because of Alexia, who also frequented the store daily, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the two crossed paths.
As you and Carmen continued chatting, Alexia walked into the store, just as she always did. She approached Carmen first, who was standing closer, greeting her with a soft “Hola” and two kisses on the cheek, as was her custom.
Then, something unexpected happened. Alexia moved toward you, her eyes locking onto yours, and for the first time, she greeted you the same way, leaning in to give you two kisses on the cheek.
She had never done this before—usually, it was just a simple “Hola guapa” paired with her usual soft yet cocky smile.
“Hola guapa,” she said, her familiar words bringing a sense of comfort.
“Hola,” you responded, managing a smile, feeling the last remnants of nerves from yesterday dissolve the closer she got.
She was standing so near to you, her height forcing you to slightly tilt your head up to meet her gaze.
“How are you?” she asked softly, her voice holding a gentleness that made your heart skip for a moment.
“I’m good, and you?” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You hated to admit it, but having her so close made you feel something—safe, but also a little flustered.
“Bien,” she said, pressing her lips together as an awkward silence started to settle between the two of you. You shifted slightly, unsure of what to say next. (Good)
Finally, you broke the silence. “Did you have fun with that girl last night?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, hoping to lighten the mood.
Alexia’s smile faltered for a split second, and she hesitated before answering, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Um... no.”
Her answer took you by surprise, and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “No?” you repeated, not expecting that.
“No,” she said again, this time more firmly but still quiet. Her eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe? You weren’t sure.
“Did you find someone better then?” you joked, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk, trying to coax her back into her usual lighthearted mood.
But instead of laughing, her expression grew more serious. “No,” she whispered, and this time, her voice carried a weight that made you pause. “En realidad... me sentí muy culpable por lo que pasó ayer” (Actually... I felt really guilty about what happened yesterday)
You blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in tone. “Guilty?” you repeated, the word hanging in the air between you two.
Alexia nodded, her gaze dropping momentarily before she looked back up at you, her eyes soft and sincere.
“About..you know..ignoring you yesterday,” she said gently. “I was out of line. I let myself get carried away,I let my... urges take over,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m really sorry. I know it probably hurt you, and that was never my intention.”
You stood there, processing her words, feeling the sincerity behind them. She wasn’t just apologizing; she was genuinely remorseful. You could see it in the way her eyes softened, the way her voice lowered with each sentence.
But despite her heartfelt apology, you hesitated. You weren’t sure if you could just forgive her so easily, not this time. It wasn’t the first time Alexia had done something impulsive, and you didn’t want to keep brushing it off like it was nothing.
“Alexia...” you started, unsure of how to continue. You bit your lip, avoiding her gaze for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.
She took a small step closer, her expression pleading now. “Please, Y/N, I’m really sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I wasn’t thinking straight. You know me, sometimes I just act without thinking, but I would never want to hurt you.”
You sighed, crossing your arms as you weighed her words. “I get that, Alexia, but this isn’t the first time,” you said, meeting her eyes again. “You can’t keep doing things and expecting me to just... forgive you right away.”
She swallowed, her eyes glistening as if the weight of your words hit her hard. “I know... I know, and I hate that I keep messing things up between us. But please... this time, I mean it. I’ll be better. I promise.”
There was a long pause, both of you standing in the soft light of the store, the usual chatter and bustle around you fading into the background as you considered her words.
Finally, you sighed, shaking your head a little, feeling your resolve begin to waver. “It’s not that easy, Alexia. You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay. I need to know you really mean it this time.”
“I do,” she insisted, her voice breaking slightly. “I swear to you, I’ll make it up to you. Just... give me one more chance, please.”
Another long pause. You could see the desperation in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped slightly as if she was afraid you might walk away from her for good.
“Fine,” you finally said, though your voice was softer now. “But this is the last time, Alexia. I mean it. If you mess up again, that’s it. I won’t keep forgiving you.”
Alexia’s face lit up with a mix of relief and joy, and before you could react, she squealed and wrapped her arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly. You let out a small squeal of surprise, not expecting her to hug you so tightly.
“Thank you, thank you!” she cried, setting you back down but not letting go just yet. “I swear, it’ll be the last time I do something stupid. I promise.”
You couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to hide it. “The last time, Alexia,” you warned, pointing a finger at her sternly.
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, the last time,” she repeated, still grinning. Then she gave you a pleading look.
“Now, will you finally finish the story you were telling me yesterday? I’ve been dying to hear the end.”
Just as you were about to tell her, the door chimed and a few customers entered the store. Carmen shot you a knowing look, subtly signaling for your attention.
“Another time,” you said with a sigh, gently patting Alexia’s cheek before walking away. “Work calls.”
Alexia watched you go, her eyes following your every move, and a huge smile spread across her face.
But as she stood there, a strange feeling stirred in her stomach. Something unfamiliar, something she couldn’t quite place.
She shook her head, brushing off the sensation as nothing more than hunger. With a shrug, she pulled out her burner phone, scrolling through her contacts before texting one of the many girls in her phone, asking if they wanted to come over later.
——
“Are you excited to spend the day with Mommy?” you asked your daughter as you walked to the store one morning.
“Yes!” she cheered, bouncing with excitement.
Some days had passed since Alexia’s latest apology, but things had remained mostly the same.
She continued to visit the store every day, buying flowers for whichever woman she was with at the time.
Her flirtation remained gentle and tender, but something had shifted, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint what.
She frequently complimented your looks, outfits, and hairstyles, which you appreciated, even though it was rare for her to show this side of herself.
Despite this, she still made occasional risqué jokes about her various partners—and even you.
Two days ago, Alexia had been recounting a dinner she went to with friends and handed you her phone to show you pictures of the restaurant and the food. Unfortunately, she opened the “wrong album.”
You were shocked to see numerous pictures of naked women and nearly threw the phone back at her.
Alexia looked puzzled at your reaction but quickly masked it with a smirk as she glanced at her phone.
She began scrolling through the explicit pictures again, her eyes glinting with amusement.
Biting her lip, she seemed to savor the memories associated with each image, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she relived the moments she had captured.
“This is my special album,” she said with a teasing bite of her lip. “When I’m traveling and feeling lonely in a hotel room, it’s nice to have some… interesting pictures to look at.”
You made a face of disgust.
She leaned in, smirking. “Por favor, no me digas que nunca has enviado o recibido fotos como estas.” she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she propped her elbow on the counter. (Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never sent or received pictures like these)
“That’s none of your business,” you said, feeling your face flush.
“Oooh, you didn’t deny it, and your face is all red. You’ve definitely sent some,” she said with excitement.
With a cocky grin, she added, “I can’t wait to add yours to this album. It would make it so much more interesting…and beautiful.”
You looked at her in disgust and gently pushed her face away with your hand.
“In your dreams,” you said, smiling despite yourself. Over time, her flirting and joking were becoming less bothersome.
“You know what they say: never give up on your dreams,” Alexia said smugly. “Y me conoces lo suficientemente bien como para saber que nunca lo haría. Si lo hiciera, no sería la mejor futbolista del mundo.” (And you know me well enough to know that I never do. If I did, I wouldn’t be the best woman footballer in the world)
You shook your head, amused.
“I can’t wait to see all the pretty flowers, Mommy!” Mia’s excitement was palpable as she bounced on her little feet, her eyes wide with anticipation. You looked down at her, your heart warmed by her enthusiasm.
You had chosen this particular day for Mia to accompany you, carefully planning to avoid a potential encounter with Alexia.
Alexia had informed you the day before that she would be away from the store due to a demanding schedule of training, interviews, and a photoshoot.
You knew that if Mia were to see Alexia, she might freak out since she’s basically her hero.
While Alexia was known to be good with kids—something you’d observed in several videos—her frequent appearances with new partners and her tendency to be very touchy and affectionate in public could have made the situation awkward for Mia.
Your daughter’s inquisitive nature would surely lead to a barrage of questions, which you wanted to avoid.
“This time, I want to pick my flower of the week, Mommy, okay?” Mia asked, stretching her arms up towards you, signaling that she wanted to be picked up.
“Of course, sweetheart,” you responded with a soft smile, bending down to scoop her up. She nestled her head against your shoulder as you lifted her, her small arms wrapping around your neck.
You could feel the warmth of her little body and the soft rustle of her breath against your skin.
Together, you made your way to the store, ready to enjoy a day filled with flowers and moments of bonding, free from the concerns that Alexia might have brought.
——
“Mia, would you like to help me put the flowers in the pot?” Carmen’s voice was warm and inviting.
“Yes!” Mia responded immediately, her excitement evident as she bounded off with Carmen.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm as they disappeared around the corner, heading towards the back of the store.
The morning had been smooth and joyful. Mia had been gleefully exploring the shop, sniffing flowers and marveling at their colors. There had been no tantrums—a welcome relief—and you’d promised her she’ll be back at the store if she continued to behave so well.
As you worked on arranging bouquets for display, the bell above the front door jingled, signaling a new customer.
Looking up, your heart nearly stopped when you saw Alexia walk in. But she wasn’t alone—she had her arm casually draped around another woman, a relaxed smile on her face.
“Hola, guapa,” Alexia greeted you, approaching the counter. She momentarily released the woman to give you a quick kiss on both cheeks before resuming her hold around the woman’s neck.
Panic flared in your chest. “What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to keep your tone calm but failing to mask the urgency. Your eyes darted towards the back of the store, hoping Mia was still preoccupied.
Alexia’s eyebrow arched, catching your unease. “Is that how you greet me now?” she teased with a playful smirk. “Oh, and this is Isabel,” she said, introducing the woman. “Isabel, ella es Y/N.” (Isabel, this is Y/N)
You forced a polite smile at Isabel, offering a quick nod before turning back to Alexia. “You said you wouldn’t be here today. You said you will be busy all day.”
Alexia chuckled, clearly amused by your flustered state. “Plans changed. My photoshoot was canceled, so I thought I’d drop by and visit my two favorite flower girls.” She winked at you, trying to keep the gesture hidden from Isabel. “Where’s Carmen?”
Your heart raced. “She’s not here—she’s out on a delivery,” you lied quickly, hoping to get Alexia to leave. You were certain she would linger if she found out Carmen was still around.
Alexia gave you a curious look but shrugged. “Alright then...”
“Right, well, it was nice seeing you, and Isabel, fue un placer conocerte.” you said, trying to wrap things up. “I’m sure you have other plans.” (Isabel, it was lovely meeting you)
Alexia’s eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. “You’re acting strange. Are you trying to kick us out?” she asked with a grin.
“No, no, it’s just... you know, I’m sure you both have things to do,” you replied, glancing over her shoulder towards the back of the store again.
Alexia’s smirk didn’t fade. “Yeah, we do,” she agreed, looked down at Isabel.
She gave Isabel’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before intertwining their fingers and gently kissing the crown of her head.
A pang of discomfort hit you at the sight, but before you could react further, the sound of Mia’s voice cut through the tension.
“Mommy!”
You closed your eyes briefly, wishing you could rewind, you were so close…
When you opened them, Mia was rushing towards you, her small hands proudly holding a flower.
“Mommy, look! I found my flower of the week” Mia exclaimed, stopping right beside Alexia and Isabel, her face beaming with pride as she showed off her flower.
Everything seemed to slow down as Alexia’s gaze fell upon the tiny figure next to her. Her expression shifted dramatically from casual amusement to shock, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open.
It was as if she had been struck by a sudden realization.
Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. “Mommy?” she asked, her tone full of disbelief. “Tienes una hija?” Her words were tinged with a mix of surprise and confusion, as if the idea of you having a child was completely foreign to her. (You have a daughter?)
You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat.
Mia, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, suddenly shouted in recognition, “Alexia!” Her high-pitched voice echoed through the store as she threw herself at Alexia’s legs, hugging them tightly.
Alexia stood frozen, her shock palpable as she looked down at Mia clinging to her. Her usual composure was replaced by a look of utter bewilderment.
“I love you so much! You’re the best player in the whole world!” Mia declared, her tiny arms wrapped around Alexia’s legs.
Alexia’s expression softened at Mia’s affection. Though still stunned, there was a growing tenderness in her eyes.
Slowly, she reached down, placing her hand gently on the back of Mia’s head and stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she said softly, still grappling with the surprise.
You stepped in and carefully pried Mia away from Alexia’s legs, lifting her onto your hip.
Despite Mia’s tight grip, you managed to ease her into your arms, hoping to shield her from the awkwardness of the situation.
“Mommy, look, it’s Alexia! We see her on TV when she plays her games!” Mia said excitedly, pointing at Alexia, who remained visibly shaken.
Alexia’s gaze turned to you, her eyes searching for answers. The realization that you had kept such a significant part of your life from her was evident in the way she stared, her expression a mix of hurt and confusion.
“What’s your name, pequeña?” Alexia asked Mia gently, her disbelief still evident.
“Mia!” your daughter responded enthusiastically.
Alexia offered a strained smile. “Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”
Mia gasped and turned to you with wide eyes. “Mommy, you never told me Alexia was your friend!”
Alexia gave a quiet chuckle, though her gaze remained fixed on you. “Y tampoco me contó nada sobre ti.” she added in Spanish, hoping that you daughter does not understand, her tone more serious now. The subtle accusation in her words was clear, despite her attempt at a smile. (And she never told me about you either)
Sensing the tension, Mia pointed to the intertwined hands of Alexia and Isabel. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked innocently.
Your face flushed with embarrassment. “Mia...” you began, but Alexia merely laughed, her discomfort evident.
“Mia, it’s not polite to ask those questions,” you said gently but firmly.
“Sorry, Mommy... Sorry, Alexia,” Mia pouted, quickly shifting her focus to something else. “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked Alexia with concern.
Alexia looked puzzled. “No, why?”
Mia pointed to her own neck. “You have a bruise here,” she said matter-of-factly.
Your heart sank as you noticed the hickey on Alexia’s neck. Her eyes widened, and she quickly covered it with her hand, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“Oh, that? Yeah, I... got hurt playing,” Alexia mumbled, clearly flustered. Isabel, standing silently beside her, smirked at the scene.
You suspected Isabel might not understand the full conversation but clearly grasped what was happening right in this instance.
Mia nodded solemnly. “You need to be more careful, Alexia. Right, Mommy?”
You couldn’t help but smile at Mia’s concern, which mirrored your own words of caution. “Yes, sweetheart. Alexia needs to be more careful.”
Alexia met your gaze, understanding the underlying message. She gave a small nod, acknowledging the reprimand.
“You’re right, Mia. I’ll be more careful,” Alexia said, her tone softening as she pinched Mia’s cheek, eliciting a giggle from your daughter.
The moment of levity was short-lived as an uncomfortable silence settled over the group.
Mia, in her innocent way, suddenly blurted out, “Mommy says you’re hot!”
Your face flushed with embarrassment at Mia’s remark.
Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, really?” she teased, clearly enjoying your discomfort.
While watching a game on TV with Mia the other day, you might have commented that Alexia looked "hot" when she appeared on screen, noting her sweaty, glistening skin, messy hair, and visible abs, completely forgetting that Mia was nearby and could hear you.
You felt your face grow even warmer. “Mia, that’s not... what I meant,” you stammered, but Mia continued, oblivious to the embarrassment she was causing.
“You said it when we were watching her game, Mommy. You said, ‘Oh my god, she’s so hot,’” Mia mimicked your tone perfectly, making you wish you could disappear.
Alexia’s smirk grew, clearly relishing the moment. “Well, I guess I should be flattered,” she said playfully, enjoying your discomfort.
“I meant... you were playing really well,” you said, trying to explain, but Alexia wasn’t letting it go easily.
“Oh, is that what you meant?” Alexia’s teasing tone only heightened your embarrassment.
Before you could respond, Mia added, “Mommy, does that mean Alexia needs to take her clothes off since she’s hot?”
You groaned inwardly, your face now burning with mortification. “Mia! No, that’s not what I meant at all,” you said, your voice rising as you struggled to regain control.
Alexia tried to stifle her laughter. “It’s okay, Mia. I’m fine just the way I am,” she said, winking at your daughter, which only added to your embarrassment.
Clearing your throat, you tried to redirect the conversation. “Alright, Mia, say goodbye to Alexia. She has things to do, and you need to get back to Carmen.”
Alexia’s brow furrowed. “So Carmen is here? Not on a delivery?” she asked, realizing you had lied.
“Yeah…” you admitted, and Alexia nodded, accepting it.
Mia reached out her arms towards Alexia, who looked at you for permission. You nodded, and Alexia took her in her arms.
Mia gave Alexia a warm farewell hug, her small arms encircling her. “Goodbye, Alexia. And goodbye to Alexia’s girlfriend,” she added, waving at Isabel, who responded with a courteous smile.
You let out a sigh, reflecting on the unintended label Mia had given Isabel.
As Mia turned and ran back towards Carmen, Alexia’s expression shifted from playful to serious.
She turned to you, her eyes lingering with unspoken questions. “We’ll talk tomorrow,please come to my place..you know where it is” she said softly, the weight of her words evident in her tone.
You nodded, feeling the gravity of the conversation that awaited you. There was a lot left unsaid, especially now that Mia’s existence was no longer a secret.
As Alexia and Isabel left the store, you let out a long, weary sigh. You leaned against the counter, feeling emotionally drained from the unexpected turn of events. Tomorrow’s conversation with Alexia loomed large, and you knew it would be a challenging discussion.
And, of course, you’d need to have a talk with Mia about the importance of boundaries—and perhaps a bit about keeping some things to herself as well.
——
The next morning, you headed to Alexia’s apartment with Mia in tow. Since it was a Sunday, María was off, and Carmen was visiting family, you had no option but to bring Mia along.
When you told Mia about the visit, she was ecstatic and insisted on wearing the Alexia jersey you had bought her a few weeks ago. She proudly put it on, her excitement evident.
As you arrived at Alexia’s door, you crouched down to Mia’s level. “Okay, Mia,” you began gently, “let’s remember to behave today, alright?” Mia’s face lit up as she nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mommy, I’ll behave,” she promised, and you planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
With a mix of nerves and anticipation, you knocked on the door. The last time you were here, Alexia had been with two other women, and the encounter had ended on a sour note. You were hoping this visit would go more smoothly.
Alexia answered the door almost immediately, her face breaking into a warm smile. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted you, her tone soft and inviting.
You returned the greeting with a smile, “Hola, Alexia.” From beside you, Mia’s small voice piped up with an enthusiastic “Hola, Alexia,” and she waved excitedly.
Alexia’s smile widened as she crouched down to Mia’s level. “Hola, nena,” she said affectionately, lifting Mia into her arms.
Mia wrapped her small arms around Alexia’s neck. When they separated, Mia proudly pointed to her shirt and said, “Look, Alexia, I’m wearing your shirt today!”
Alexia’s eyes twinkled with delight as she laughed softly. “Yes! That’s a fantastic choice,” she said, giving Mia a high-five, which Mia eagerly reciprocated.
You couldn’t help but smile at the heartwarming interaction between them.
“Come on in,” Alexia invited, opening the door wider and gesturing for you both to enter.
As you stepped inside, a small dog came bounding towards you, tail wagging furiously.
“Puppy!” Mia squealed, dropping to her knees as the dog jumped up and began licking her face. Mia’s laughter filled the room, and you found yourself laughing too.
You joined Mia on the floor, gently petting the playful puppy. “This is Nala,” Alexia said, introducing the dog with a smile.
“She’s adorable,” you commented, reaching out to give Nala a gentle scratch behind the ears.
“Sí, igual que su mamá,” Alexia said with a smirk, adding a playful tone in Spanish that made you look up at her and shake your head with a soft smile on your face. (Yeah, just like her mom)
“What that mean?” Mia asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“It means she’s as adorable as you are,” Alexia explained with a chuckle, ruffling Mia’s hair, which caused Mia to giggle even more.
Afterward, Alexia offered you both drinks, and Mia made her way to the living room, settling in to watch TV while Nala curled up contentedly on her lap.
You and Alexia sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in silence. You weren’t sure how to start the conversation, but Alexia quickly took the initiative.
“So… you have a daughter,” Alexia said, glancing towards Mia.
“Yes,” you replied, nodding.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, confusion and hurt evident in her eyes.
You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. The truth—that you didn’t want Alexia near your daughter due to her reputation—seemed too harsh.
You looked away, avoiding her gaze as you fumbled for a response. Alexia seemed to understand your discomfort.
“You didn’t want me to meet her, did you?” she asked softly.
You didn’t respond, so she continued.
“I told you I wouldn’t be at the store this day, that’s why you brought Mia that exact day, right? Because you didn’t want me to see her?” Her voice held a trace of hurt.
You stared down at your coffee and nodded.
“And that’s also why you were so eager for me to leave? So I wouldn’t have the chance to meet her?” she persisted.
Once again, you didn’t speak, only nodding in confirmation.
“And you even lied about Carmen being on delivery duty to get me out of the store?” she asked.
You nodded again, meeting her gaze and seeing the hurt in her eyes.
“But why? I thought we were friends. I’ve shared so much about my life with you, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. Why keep Mia from me?” she asked, a mix of confusion and sadness in her voice.
“I... you know... you have a reputation. I didn’t want my daughter around you,” you admitted, noting the pain and disbelief on her face.
“Especially in the beginning, when we first met. You were insufferable and disrespectful, and I didn’t want my daughter exposed to that,” you continued.
Alexia nodded slowly, though her eyes still reflected hurt.
“I understand you wanted to protect your daughter from me,” she said. “I can be a lot at times.” Her voice carried a sad resignation.
You felt a pang of guilt seeing her so down, especially after witnessing how gentle and affectionate she was with Mia. You realized how wrong you had been.
“I’m really sorry,” you said, feeling deeply remorseful. Alexia reached across the table and took your hand in hers.
“No, don’t be. You’re a mother, and I understand that mothers will do anything to protect their children,” she said, her eyes meeting yours with a comforting warmth.
“Yes, and I was wrong. You were nothing but kind and loving towards Mia. As you can see, she absolutely adores you,” you told her with a gentle smile, which Alexia returned.
Her hand remained in yours, her touch warm and reassuring.
“So... what about Mia’s father or another mother?” Alexia asked cautiously, her tone tentative.
“Oh, the father isn’t in the picture anymore. He was terrible to me—cheated on me and left when he found out I was pregnant with Mia,” you confessed, feeling a wave of sadness.
Alexia shook her head in disapproval, her expression one of sympathy.
“That’s also why…” you started but trailed off.
Alexia’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Go on,” she urged gently.
You hesitated, knowing it was time to reveal everything and lay all the cards on the table.
“That’s also why I didn’t want you to know about her or meet her. You reminded me of him,” you began, and Alexia’s face showed clear shock, her eyebrows knitting together.
“He used to flirt with other women, even right in front of me. He was always so cocky and confident, never taking anything seriously,” you continued.
“When I snapped at you the other day, it wasn’t just about you—it was about him too. I used that moment to say everything I wished I’d said to him,” you added, your voice trembling as tears formed in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away, not wanting Mia to see you upset.
Alexia immediately stood up, gently pulling you with her.
“Mia, your mommy and I need to step into the bathroom for a moment. Is it okay if you stay here by yourself for a bit?” she asked Mia softly. Mia, absorbed in the TV, nodded without much interest.
Alexia guided you to her bathroom, closing the door behind you both. She enveloped you in a comforting embrace, your face nestled against her neck while her hands supported you—one at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist.
You let your tears flow freely, a release you hadn’t allowed yourself in a while. It felt cathartic to finally let everything out.
Alexia murmured soothing words into your ear, holding you close as you cried.
As you began to calm down, Alexia spoke softly. “You and Mia deserve so much more than that. I promise you, I’m not like him. I may be confident and a bit cocky, but I will never leave you. As long as you want me in your lives, I’ll be here.”
Her words warmed your heart. You pulled back slightly to meet her gaze. “Thank you,” you whispered, and Alexia gently rested her forehead against yours, offering a soft smile and cupping your cheeks.
The closeness made your heart race. Being this near to Alexia, after seeing her with other women, was a new and intense experience for you.
The memory of those other women made you pull back quickly, sniffing and smiling softly as you wiped your tears away.
“Thank you again, Alexia,” you said, drying your face.
Alexia smiled gently. “No need to thank me.” She then opened the bathroom door, and together, you both returned to the living room where Mia was waiting.
Alexia had convinced you to stay for lunch, and now the three of you were gathered around the kitchen table, enjoying bolognese pasta together.
Alexia and Mia were engaged in an animated conversation about football.
“Mommy said that one day, I’m going to be better than you,” Mia announced proudly, pointing her fork at Alexia.
“Did she now? Is that true?” Alexia asked, raising an eyebrow at Mia before turning her gaze to you with a playful smile.
“Yes, I did. Because it’s true, right, Mia?” you said, gently poking her sides. Mia giggled and looked up at you, her face glowing with joy.
“Yes, Mommy! I’m going to be the best when I grow up!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Mommy!” Mia squealed with laughter, trying to wriggle away as you planted more kisses on her giggling face.
Alexia watched the scene with a soft smile, that familiar warmth spreading through her stomach, the same feeling she’d experienced the last time she’d apologized to you.
After lunch, you and Alexia tackled the dishes together while Mia, worn out from all the excitement, napped peacefully in Alexia’s bedroom.
“You know,” Alexia started, her voice carrying a smug tone as she stood by your side, drying the plates. “Now it all makes sense.”
You glanced at her, confused. “What makes sense?”
Her smirk grew wider, and you could already feel the teasing energy coming. “You always gave me MILF energy,” she said, eyeing you up and down like she was enjoying a private joke.
You felt heat rush to your face, but before you could react, she was already grinning even more, leaning in like she had a secret to share. “Especially when you get all serious and bossy with me. God, I love it when you’re bossy,” she added, lowering her voice. “It’s so hot.”
You didn’t waste a second. You nudged her hard with your hip, splashing water in her direction. “Don’t make me slap you,” you warned her, but she only laughed harder, loving every second of this.
Alexia recovered quickly, her smirk firmly back in place. “And by the way,” she added, wiping a plate with a casual air, “don’t think I forgot about you calling me hot.”
You froze, glancing at her quickly. “I—I did not call you hot,” you said, trying to sound firm, even though you knew you were lying through your teeth.
She chuckled, the sound deep and amused. “Oh, really? That’s not what Mia said yesterday. Maybe we should wake her up and ask her again.” She made a move toward the hallway, clearly teasing, and you immediately stepped in, placing your hand over her mouth.
“Shut up,” you muttered, your face burning as she laughed under your palm. You could feel her lips curve into a grin as she brushed your hand off with ease, cockier than ever.
There was a brief moment of silence between you two as you continued with the dishes, but the tension was palpable. Then, out of nowhere, Alexia’s voice broke the quiet.
“You know I’m not giving up, right?” Her tone was playful but serious, the teasing edge never quite leaving.
You turned to face her, already knowing where this was headed. “Still not having sex with you, Alexia,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.
Her eyes darkened with that familiar mischief. She stepped a little closer, the smugness practically oozing from her.
“Come on, you think I’m hot, don’t deny it. Mia even confirmed it. And don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at me,” she added, her voice dipping just enough to make you shift where you stood.
You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat. “I think you’re hot, you think I’m hot, why not just… be hot together?” She shrugged, her expression impossibly smug. “In a bed. Naked.”
Tired of her arrogance, you decided it was time to play her own game.
You sighed dramatically. “Okay,” you said, making it sound like you were giving in.
Alexia’s cocky grin faltered for just a second as her eyes widened, surprised by your sudden agreement.
You stepped closer to her, and for once, she seemed speechless, unsure of what to do with her usual bravado.
As you closed the distance, pressing yourself fully against her, you felt her body stiffen, her breath hitching.
You took her hands, placing them around your waist, dangerously close to your butt. Her eyes searched yours, confused, intrigued, and undoubtedly turned on.
Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your arms around her neck, leaning in until your lips grazed the shell of her ear. “How about tomorrow night?” you whispered, your voice sultry and slow.
“You can pick me up from work… take me back here… and you can fuck me… all. night. long.” You paused after each word, letting the sexual tension linger between you.
You felt Alexia’s sharp intake of breath, her body instinctively reacting to your closeness.
The faintest moan escaped her lips, her face pressing into the crook of your neck as if she couldn’t control the heat rushing through her.
Her hands moved lower, finally squeezing your butt gently, and you could feel her struggling to maintain her composure.
“And you know what the best part would be?” you whispered, your lips barely brushing her skin, your fingers lightly tracing the back of her neck.
Alexia, still caught up in the moment, could barely manage a hoarse, “What?”
Her hands kept caressing you butt, her body betraying just how much she was enjoying the moment.
You resisted the urge to push her hands away, knowing full well you enjoyed it too. But you had a point to make.
You leaned in even closer, letting her feel your breath against her ear. “The best part is…” you paused, feeling her anticipation grow. “This will all be happening… in your dreams.”
And with that, you pulled away completely, leaving Alexia standing there, utterly stunned, her jaw practically on the floor.
You smirked, enjoying the rare moment where you had the upper hand. “I’m gonna go check on Mia,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just left Alexia breathless and flustered.
Alexia stood there, unable to speak, her mind reeling from what had just happened. She had always been confident, always in control, but you had completely turned the tables on her.
She was used to being the one who teased, the one who left others speechless—but now, you had her feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Wow,” she finally muttered under her breath, her heart still racing. She had been with plenty of women before, but none had made her feel like this—none had gotten under her skin the way you just had.
The way your fingers had trailed down her neck, the soft whisper of your voice in her ear… it had her unraveling in a way she hadn’t expected.
That familiar warm sensation bubbled up in her stomach again, the same one she’d felt earlier at the table.
She could still feel the ghost of your touch on her skin as she hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to cool herself down.
But the truth was, she was hot. You’d left her wanting more—and for the first time, Alexia wasn’t quite sure how to regain the upper hand.
——
“Thank you, Alexia,” you said as you got back to your apartment.
After your hot moment in the kitchen, Mia had woken up, and it was time to head home. Alexia insisted on escorting you, so she, Mia, Nala, and you all made the walk to your apartment together.
During the walk, Alexia and Mia chatted animatedly about everything and anything, their laughter and conversation filling the air until you reached your front door.
But Alexia also stayed silent with you.Only talking with Mia.
“Bye-bye, Alexia! I had so much fun with Nala. Can I see her again?” Mia asked, her little arms wrapped around Alexia’s shoulders as they both looked down at Nala.
“Of course, nena. We can definitely arrange another playdate if your mommy agrees,” Alexia said, glancing up at you with a hopeful look. You nodded in agreement.
“Okay, and I want to see you again too. You’re my best friend now!” Mia exclaimed, snuggling her face into Alexia’s neck. Alexia smiled and stood up, with Mia clinging to her like a koala.
“You’re my best friend too, nena” Alexia said softly.
“Mommy is our best friend too! We can’t forget her,” Mia suddenly said, as if realizing she had almost overlooked you. She pulled her face away from Alexia’s neck and stretched out an arm.
“Mommy, come join the hug too!” Mia said with innocent enthusiasm. You smiled warmly as you stepped into the group hug.
As Alexia’s free arm wrapped around your waist, you draped your arm around both of them, leaning your head on Alexia’s shoulder.
Alexia looked down at the two girls in her arms, and a deep sense of contentment washed over her. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
The touch of her lips sent a pleasant shiver through you. You looked up at her, smiling gently, and she returned your smile with equal warmth.
As the hug ended, Mia gave Alexia one last kiss on the cheek and a pat on Nala’s head before heading inside.
“Thanks again,” you said with a smile. “You’ve been so quiet with me. Did something happen?”
Alexia rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, you turned me on really badly, and now I have to go home and take care of it myself,” she said, a groan escaping her.
“Oh, come on. I’m sure you could call one of the women in your contact list, and she’d be at your place in ten minutes,” you teased.
“Yes, I could,” Alexia said with a smug grin, “Pero preferiría imaginarte conmigo en lugar de con otra mujer. Podría llamarla por tu nombre por accidente” (but I’d rather imagine you with me than another woman. I might accidentally call her by your name.)
“Okayyyy,” you said, laughing.
“I have a new goal,” Alexia announced suddenly.
“What’s that?” you asked, intrigued.
“My new goal is to take you on a date,” she said with a mischievous smile.
“So it’s not just about getting me into your bed?” you asked, amused.
“Bueno, sí, pero quiero hacer las cosas bien. Mi nuevo objetivo es convencerte de que salgas conmigo.”she clarified. (Well, yes, but I want to do things properly. My new goal is to convince you to go on a date with me)
“I’m curious to see how you plan to achieve that,” you said with a grin.
“I’ll treat you well and completely stop flirting with or looking at other women,” she said confidently.
“You? Stopping from flirting with other women? Alexia Putellas?” you said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Sí, definitivamente puedo hacer eso.”she said, feigning offense. (Yes, I can totally do that)
“Sure…” you said, still unconvinced.
“Alright, let’s make a deal. If I don’t flirt with, sleep with, or even look at another woman for a month, you agree to go on a date with me,” she proposed, determination in her voice.
You considered it for a moment, knowing she might find it challenging. “Okay,” you agreed.
“¿De verdad? ¿No es solo otra broma?”she asked, surprised. (Really? It’s not just another joke?)
“No joke. One month, no women, and I’ll go on that date,” you confirmed, and she cheered.
“Genial! Bueno, ahora necesito ir a cuidar de mí misma, si sabes a qué me refiero.”she said with a suggestive wink and you laughed a little. (Great! Well, now I need to go and take care of myself, if you know what I mean)
“Bye, Alexia,” you said.
“Adios, guapa,” she replied, waving as she walked away.
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jjunieworld · 10 hours
Text
THE SALT UNDER THE SEA ˒˒ 심재윤͏ ⨾ 박종성 ▸  part two of the player’s game series⌇playlist & series tag
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the death of your grandma has you returning back to your mother’s seaside hometown—the same town you left jake in a year ago—for good. now that you’re back, so are the feelings you really desperately wished to leave behind. it doesn’t help that now you’re caught in the crossfire of two guys with a rough past who want to be with you.
pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ sim jaeyun x reader, park jongseong x reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 cousin jungwon, bestfriend!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jake’s ex)
genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ exes to lovers, bestfriends to ???, angst, smut, fluff, lifeguard!jake, ex player!jake, bestfriend!jay, lifeguard!jay, lifeguarding inaccuracies, love triangle, slice of life, some h2o references, beach au, summer romance
warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ if you didn’t like reader in the first part then you won’t like her in this one, reader’s grandma passing, alcohol, multiple unprotected sex scenes, soft dom!jake, mean dom!jay, toxicity, jayke constantly one-uping each other, jealousy and possessiveness, arguing, size training, marking, inexperienced!reader, blowjob/handjob, riding, corruption kink, jake is a munch, pussy eating, oral fixation?, cum swallowing, slight fingering, petnames (baby, pretty, good girl), name calling (slut, whore), praise, reader gets talked through it, creampies, degradation, hair pulling (both m. & f. rec), dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, slight manhandling, body worship, dumbification?, cockwarming, service top!jake, pussy drunk!jayke, pictures & videos taken during sex, cumshots/facials
kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ literally went through hell trying to get this part two out but here we are!!! once again, this is for the lovely @jjunberry ♡ literally this wouldn’t even be here without you so i hope you like it!! (⁎˃ᆺ˂) thank you to all of you for being on this (very long) journey with me! hehe ^^ i hope you all enjoy this!! ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡
∿ [ 27.5k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]
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[ BEFORE — ONE MONTH SINCE LAST SUMMER ] 𓇼 the salt in your wounds still lingers.
just when you thought your life was finally getting better, finally getting back on track after the summer you’ve had, everything comes crashing down with just one phone call.
it was like watching a car crash in slow motion, your mother’s face. you knew from the start that your grandma wasn’t going to make it, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. a mere month since you left… would things be different if you and your mom stayed in her seaside hometown like originally planned? deep down, it felt like it was all your fault.
two more months passed before your grandma passed on. “from the sea i came and to the sea i shall return,” she always told you. “don’t be sad when i go, when you see the ocean waves that will be me saying hello.” the day it happened your mom had already booked the next flight out for her funeral.
going through your belongings as you pack your bags makes your guilt run deeper and all it does is make your mind flash back to just three months ago when you were by the sea and everything felt too much. your eyes travel to your dresser—jake’s note and all the developed pictures sat safely in an old jewelry box that you haven’t touched since putting the items in there. you didn’t even look at the pictures after you had gotten them developed, it just hurt too much.
still, your mind was muddled and as you finished packing your suitcase to the brim nothing became clearer. these three months gave you plenty of time to think over the entirety of last summer with detached emotions—a new perspective.
do you still love jake? of course you did, it’s most likely that you always will. how could you not? he was your first love. do you forgive him for everything that he put you through last summer? you still weren’t sure.
but damn if you didn’t miss him.
for the first time you felt the urge to look at the pictures you and him took—fingers twitched towards the jewelry box. with a sigh, you stood from your bed and grabbed it, the soft music playing as you opened the lid. carefully, you grabbed the pictures and made your way back to your bed.
as you flipped through all of them, a memory came to the forefront of your mind with each photo.
a smile pulled at your lips at the photo, it was of you with a shocked smile next to a brightly smiling jake. his arm was around your waist and the two of you were almost chest to chest. “i want my first memory to be of you.”
another of the two of you, a wall of graffiti behind you—right after your first kiss. jake was pressing a kiss to your cheek and you looked flustered. “you said you wanted physical memories, right? say cheese!”
the last one you looked at was of you, jake, and sunghoon before you noticed the tears blurring your vision. the three of you smiling as jake pulled you all close together for the camera. “group picture!”
you glanced over to your phone on your bed. even now, jake still contacts you everyday—even if you don’t answer him. mainly it’s been him checking up on you and making sure that you’re okay, asking how your day was. you haven’t answered a single one of them, yet he hasn’t stopped. against your better judgement, you read every message that came in—the most recent being his condolences.
you don’t know what to say to him. so many things have been left unsaid that every time you go to type a message your fingers freeze and your mind runs with everything you want to tell him. then you decide to just not say anything at all. besides, you didn’t think you'd ever see him again, so what’s the point?
if you were being honest, a part of you is still closed off, untrusting of him. you didn’t want to give your heart to him in fear he might break it again. you refused to feel like that again.
with a heavy and shaky sigh you put the pictures back where they belonged and made your way downstairs with your suitcase.
the next day you were on a flight to your mother’s seaside hometown, just like you were three months ago. jake’s letter filled your mind and your dreams surrounded him.
“i love you. i love you. i love—”
your mom nudged you awake just as the plane was beginning to land. you rubbed your bleary eyes and blinked rapidly to try and get your eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. nudging you again, your mom said, “wake up, we’re about to land.”
deja vu hit you and hit you hard. rolling out your sore neck, you prepared yourself for the landing. you still hated planes.
the drive to your aunt’s house was silent, as you got settled in and prepared for the funeral it was even quieter. your ears practically rang with the sound of silence and your body felt like it weighed a ton with the heaviness lingering in the air.
you all were dressed in black in the living room. your aunt was desperately trying to lighten the mood, and it was only half working. “come on everyone, you know she’d come back from the grave and kill us if she saw our faces right now! she wouldn’t want us to be sad.”
your mom nodded sadly, reciting your grandma’s words. “don’t be sad when i go, when you see the ocean waves that will be me saying hello.”
“exactly! now let’s go and celebrate the life she lived instead of being sad it came to an end!” your aunt smiled softly.
it was a lovely service, your grandma’s funeral. you think that she would be happy with it.
you and jungwon decided to walk back home after the funeral. honestly, you both didn’t think you could be in a car with the dark cloud surrounding you all, it felt too claustrophobic.
on the way home you both stopped at a food place since you were still hungry. the two of you ate silently before jungwon looked behind you and suddenly stood to his feet, murmuring a quick “i’ll be right back.”
you looked behind you at his retreating figure, confused. just as you were turning back to your food you saw it out of the corner of your eye. your heart stopped. you could barely see with jungwon blocking the way but you could spot him anywhere.
it was jake.
you continued eating. you weren’t ready to face him, especially not right now. you don’t think you could even look at him right now. instead, you opted to watch the scene from the corner of your eye.
you could barely hear jungwon and jake’s conversation, only managing to hear jungwon say, “she really doesn’t need any drama right now, man…” jake backed off, but not before you turned and the two of you made the briefest of eye contact before you quickly looked away, taking another bite out of your sandwich.
all you managed to catch was the blonde of his hair that he pushed off his forehead as he turned.
now you wished you took the chance to get a good look at him. it’s only been three months since you last saw him, but already you were forgetting the exact color of his eyes and the way his voice sounded. were they more of a honey brown or a mahogany? you didn’t remember.
it was eating away at you how much you already forgot.
you and jungwon finished your food in silence. before the two of you walked back home, he asked if you wanted to swim before you left. you shook your head as you stared out to the sea. it was a sunny day, but you just couldn’t bear to step off the boardwalk. “maybe next time i visit,” you said, though you didn’t know if there would be a next time.
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[ RETURN — A YEAR SINCE YOU’VE TOUCHED SAND ] 𓇼 two hundred seventy-four days since you’ve last seen him.
your heart beat fast as you looked out the plane window to your mother’s seaside hometown—your new home. there was no need for your mom to nudge you awake since you weren’t able to sleep for the entirety you were on the plane, the nerves were eating at you.
you never thought you’d be back here, never thought that you’d ever say goodbye to your own hometown—which was also your late father’s—but here you were.
when your mom told you that you’d be moving here permanently you didn’t know how to feel. on one hand, you understood your mom’s decision. it was just you and her out there miles away from your family and everything must’ve reminded her of your father. it reminded you of him too. on the other hand, you desperately wished she would change her mind.
it was enough seeing that one glimpse of jake nine months ago, but to see him over and over and over again? you didn’t think you could take it. he still texted you, even more now since, and you still haven’t answered. things between the two of you still remain unsaid.
but you also couldn’t help but count down the seconds until you laid your eyes on him again. it set your skin alight and you couldn’t help the small smile on your face and the giddiness you felt. was it selfish, yes, but after everything you think you’re finally ready to face him again.
to give your relationship another chance. to give him your heart again and not be fearful that he would break it, that he’d keep it guarded and safe. after all, he said he would wait for you.
and if he didn’t protect your heart, you’d pull back and it would be as if you never had anything to do with him again.
“y/n? are you listening?” you heard your mother’s voice call out. you snapped back to reality, blinking a couple of times to get your wits.
you were no longer on the plane. now you were lugging suitcases into your aunt’s house. your aunt was delighted to hear that you and your mom would be moving here. there was plenty of room in the house until the two of you got your own place.
“mhm,” you mumbled, though you definitely weren’t listening.
your mom sat the suitcase she was carrying in front of you and grabbed your shoulders. “is it that boy from last summer? what was his name? jacob?”
“jake,” jungwon answered for you as he walked out the front door to grab more boxes.
your mom snapped her fingers. “jake! that’s it. listen, i know you had some problems moving here because of him, but use this as a way to put yourself out there more than last summer! there’s more wonderful people here than just jake.” she gave you a sympathetic smile and continued carrying stuff inside while you remained planted to the same spot in the driveway.
it wasn’t “just jake” that worried you. it was all of his friends and hana. you didn’t want another summer full of drama, especially if you and jake did start dating again.
getting all your boxes and suitcases into the house went quick and relatively easy. you decided on unpacking all of your things later, right now your mind was too clouded.
jake’s letter sat carefully in your anxious hands. you must’ve read it a million times over now and you could barely wrap your head around it still.
“two people who are meant to be will always find a way back to each other. and we are meant to be. no matter how long it takes, i’ll wait for you.”
it was now or never. you grabbed your phone and opened your messages up to your conversation with jake. his last message was from this morning, hoping that you had a good day today. he must not know that you’re back and for good. with a shaky sigh, you let your fingers move across the keyboard.
you: meet me at our spot.
your hands shook as you quickly made your way downstairs and out the front door. your heart raced and your breathing was labored as you let your feet guide you. the more you thought about jake the faster your feet carried you towards him.
you felt the smile grow on your face as you caught a glimpse of the sea and the sand, the grittiness already finding its way into your sandals. you were moving so fast that you didn’t notice the person in front of you until you smacked directly into their chest.
“oh my god!” you exclaimed as you came to a sudden halt, eyes wide, “i’m so sorry, i wasn’t paying attention to where i was going!”
“we’ve got to stop meeting like this,” a familiar voice joked. you looked up, the smile on your face widening more as you stood face to face with jay again. his smile matched yours and you laughed out of disbelief.
“jay!” you laughed, “it’s been a while, how have you been?”
jay ran a hand through his damp hair. “same old, same old. how have you been? i heard you left this place for dead! never thought i’d see you back here again.” the teasing in his voice was obvious but you could see the concern in his eyes. flashes of the last time you saw him ran through your mind. funnily enough, you ran straight into him just a year ago while running from jake.
your smile faltered slightly but you tried your hardest to not think about last year. “well, let me be the first to tell you that i’m back for good!” jay’s eyebrows raised in shock and you nodded. “just moved back with my mom! you’ll be seeing me around a lot more now,” you continued playfully.
“i’m sorry about your loss, by the way,” jay said, expression suddenly serious. you waved a hand in the air, letting him know that it was okay. time and place. “well, i’m glad you’re back! this place really sucks without someone like you around,” jay added.
laughing you shook your head slightly, “then we should hang out sometime!”
“text me the plans and i’m there!” jay replied and pulled out his phone. he passed it to you with a “new contact” screen opened and you quickly filled out your information.
“i gotta go, but we will be hanging out sometime this week!” you waved as you began to step away. jay nodded with a smile. “clear your schedule!” you tossed over your shoulder as you walked away. behind you, you heard jay’s laugh.
“wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
you shook your head, continuing on your path to you and jake’s “spot.” this time you took your walk slow so you wouldn’t run headfirst into anybody else.
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jake nodded along absentmindedly to whatever sunghoon was saying to him, not listening at all as he stared out at the people swimming in the ocean and the calm ocean waves.
he was bored out of his mind.
suddenly his phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket. jake blinked a couple times to make sure what he was seeing was real. once he saw that it was you who was undoubtedly texting him, he jumped to his feet.
you: meet me at our spot.
“—and then i told her that i already warned her. this is the relationship that she—hey! what the fuck, jake?” sunghoon called behind him as jake suddenly took off.
jake could care less about sunghoon right now when you were here. you’re finally back, and not only that—you’re asking to see him. jake feels like his heart might explode. nine months since he’s last gotten the tiniest glimpse of you. nine months since he last had his breath taken away. a whole year since you’ve slipped through his fingers.
he wasn’t letting you go this time.
“where are you going?” sunghoon yelled, yet jake made no efforts to stop or even slow down. distantly, he could hear sunghoon shout, “asshole!”
like always, jake made it to your spot before you did. it’s only mere seconds until you’re arriving after him, taking his breath away once again as he goes to turn and sees you standing there.
you look so different, yet the exact same as when he last saw you. all jake can do is stare at you wide-eyed, mouth agape as his head completely empties.
“y/n,” jake finally breathes.
in response, you inhale sharply. “jake…” you notice that his hair is it’s natural color—a dark brown. the blonde hair he had last year is nowhere to be seen whatsoever and his hair is even longer than it was, half of it disheveled and touching the top of his lips and the other half tucked semi-neatly behind his ear. and his eyes… how could you ever forget?
brown moonstone. they look just as they did when the two of you laid under the stars together.
without thinking the two of you rush towards each other before abruptly stopping just inches away. hesitantly, jake closes the gap as he reaches towards you and gently places his hand on your cheek. you can feel the way it tremors—as if his hand might go through you. he takes a small step towards you until you can almost feel his breath fan across your cheeks as your eyes flutter closed for the briefest of moments.
as they open you look up at him, at the eyes that put you through so much. you pressed your lips to his softly.
instantly, jake is kissing you back. in it, you can feel everything that he’s been wanting to say to you for the past year. the kiss is desperate, searing, and passionate. it rips the oxygen right from your lungs and still you wrap your arms around jake’s neck to pull him closer. like if you stopped kissing him the world would crumble beneath the two of you.
only when you both can’t stand the suffocation anymore do you pull away—just barely. your heavy breathing mixes and your eyes are still closed. your grip on the back of his shirt tightens and jake leans his forehead against yours heavily.
“i missed you,” he says, just above a whisper. “i missed you so fucking much, you don’t understand. i’m so sorry.”
you kiss him again because it’s the only way you can show him how much you missed him too. jake’s hands move to your waist and pulls you closer so you’re completely pressed up against him.
memories of last summer force it’s way through your clouded mind. the two of you standing in this exact spot as he begged you not to leave.
abruptly, you broke away from him, hands pushing against his chest as you took several steps back. you turned your back to him as you tried to catch your breath, running your hands down your face. inhaling sharply, tears sprang to your eyes at all of the overwhelming emotions you were feeling. exhaling, you tried to steady your heartbeat that filled your ears.
being in this place wasn’t helping. as you looked around the rocky walls, more and more memories flowed through your mind. “i hate you,” you spoke, turning completely to face jake. your voice lacked the punch the phrase needed. instead, it sounded almost… defeated. a tear slid down your cheek.
“i know,” jake replied. he knew what you were really saying, could feel it in the same desperate way you kissed him back.
“and i hate you for what you’ve done to me,” you added while drawing closer to him.
“i know.”
you drew closer until your tight fists we’re resting against his chest. you avoided his eyes as more tears fell. “and i hate that i spent the entire year we were apart only thinking about you—i hate you.”
jake could feel the way your body shook against him. he took your closed fists into his hands. “i know, baby, i know.”
and he did. he knew that “i hate you” really meant “i love you.” and you did. you really did love him.
jake moved your hands back to your sides, letting them go but having his hands still hovering near them. “walk with me?” he asked, moving to wipe your tears away with the pads of his thumbs gently. you nodded in response as you stared at him finally. jake dipped his head down towards you and softly pressed a kiss against your lips before guiding you out of the cave-like opening.
silently, the two of you walked side-by-side in the sand through less populated paths. you both didn’t speak, and it was probably for the best as you both processed everything between the two of you.
you were walking along an empty part of the beach, the sun just beginning to set, when you decided to break the silence. “i missed you too,” you spoke, your eyes following the way your feet left footprints in the sand.
you looked to your side at jake, “i really missed you.”
the two of you came to a stop. jake looked at you with furrowed brows, like he still couldn’t believe if what he was experiencing right now was true or not. he kissed you.
if even possible, this kiss was more passionate and desperate than the last. your already swollen lips were hot to the touch and no matter how much the two of you pulled each other closer, it wasn’t close enough. the kiss then turned feverish and you both pulled away to breathe. a silent question hung in the air and you nodded ever so slightly.
jake then intertwined your hands, pulling you off into some direction you weren’t familiar with until he was pulling you into a house that you could only assume was his. you barely even wrapped your head around the fact that you were actually in his house for the first time before he was pulling you up the stairs and into his room.
his lips met yours again and finally all the unsaid things spilled out from between the two of you as you pulled each other’s clothes off. jake laid you on the bed, fingers just barely gripping the waistband of your shorts and underwear. you were under him in just that and your bra.
“yes or no?” he asked you breathlessly, voice low.
“yes,” you responded. just as fast as you did, you were half naked underneath him. jake didn’t wait as he unclasped your bra with one hand and tossed it somewhere out of sight as his lips smashed against yours. he pulled away and you barely got to blink before the both of you were completely naked.
you watched as jake reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the ponytail off of it. he messily tied back his hair before placing hot kisses down your stomach. you fought the urge not to moan. he continued slowly down your stomach and just when he reached right above where you needed him the most, he looked up at you with his signature smirk.
you inhaled and his lips attached to your core, causing you to gasp loudly. his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs to keep them apart as his tongue pulled you closer and closer over the edge. you almost broke completely when he pushed his fingers inside you, curling them at just the right angle that made you see stars.
your hands were in his hair—messing up his already messy ponytail—and your moans filled his bedroom, not even worried that someone else could be in the house. all you cared about was how good he was making you feel and how much you missed his body on yours.
it didn’t take long until the rope was snapping and you shakily told him that you were about to cum. moments later jake’s fingers and mouth was dripping and he was licking them clean while you hazily stared at him, mind too foggy until his lips were suddenly on yours again and his hands were trailing up your sides.
“i need you,” you whined softly as you stared into jake’s eyes, “please.” you clawed at his back in attempt to bring him closer, your body on fire and he was the only way to bring down the heat.
jake pressed a soft kiss to your lips and looked down between your bodies as he lined his hard and dripping cock up with your entrance. he looked up, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you nodded in return, bucking your hips up slightly and gasping when the tip of his cock grazed your sensitive clit.
slowly, jake pushed into you and it was much less uncomfortable than it was the first time. he waited a moment, eyeing the way your body reacted before looking at you in a silent question. you nodded and slowly he began to move.
high-pitched moans and whimpers left your mouth the more and more your body adjusted to him, and the more and more euphoric you felt. you and jake left love bites all over each other’s bodies without a care of the fact that it was in places people could definitely see, you were too caught up in the feeling of him surrounding you and jake was too caught up in the fact that you were finally in his arms again.
he barely let you out of his grasp, body firmly pushed against yours, as he moved in and out of you at a steady pace. his head was cloudy with your pretty sounds and his lips nipped at any skin he could. jake wished the both of you could stay like this forever, just the two of you together. he was scared of what would happen when he pulled out of you and it all ended.
would you regret it? say it was a mistake and that he should pretend like it never happened? or would this push the two of you back together again like he hoped? after all, you were the only one for him.
you inhaled sharply, brows drawn together and back arching off the soft blankets, and jake knew your body well enough before you started to clench down on him that you were about to come undone on him again. “j-jake…” you whimpered as your eyes squeezed shut.
“shh, baby, i know.” he moved so his thumb was now rubbing circles into your clit and watched the way you tried to shut your legs with a soft chuckle. he held them apart with his free hand. “let go for me,” he murmured, continuing his pace.
jake moaned and bit down hard on his bottom lip the more you clenched down on his poor cock. he felt like he was going to lose it at any moment as he tried to bring you closer and closer to the edge. “that feels good, yeah?” he asked you, accent thick and low. that sent you right over the edge, incoherent words falling from your lips, and you made a complete mess on his cock.
“shit,” jake said sharply before a moan escaped him. the sight went straight to his dick and it was almost instant with the way it twitched and he was cumming inside you, filling you up even more. his hips moved lazily, watching the way the cum spilled out of you and around him, painting his cock a pretty white.
slowly he pulled out of you and you whined at the loss of him, fingernails digging into his shoulders. more creamy white spilled out of you in a thick load and jake fought the urge to not push himself back into you and fuck you again.
he kissed your inner thighs and slowly made his way up your stomach and until he reached your lips in a heated kiss. your fingers raked through his hair, causing it to fall from the ponytail and spill out around both of your faces. once the both of you pulled away for air, you couldn’t help but giggle.
“what?” jake said, looking down at you with a bright smile. you shook your head. you were honestly just glad to be with him. you leaned up to catch his lips in another kiss. it felt like you were addicted to his lips and you cursed yourself in your head for ever putting you in the situation where you might’ve never been able to kiss them again.
jake looked at you fondly. “stay here, i’ll get something to clean you up.”
after a brief moment he came back with a damp cloth and a towel and gently wiped you down, making sure not to press too hard since you were still sensitive. once he was satisfied he laid down next to you and pulled you to his chest. “you did so good for me, pretty.”
your heart swirled at the familiar petname.
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you weren’t sure when the two of you fell asleep or for how long, the sun’s golden rays just peaking above the horizon and starting a beautiful sunset, before you woke up. jake was still sound asleep next to you, the two of you still naked, and you slowly and quietly got up from the bed. you decided to take a look around his room since you’ve never been in it before.
he had old trophies and medals for various things, one of them being swimming, along with pictures of what you assumed to be an old swim team. there was pictures of his family and friends around that brought a smile to your face the more you looked at them. one in particular caught your eye. it was a polaroid of jake, jay, and jake’s bestfriend sunghoon.
you eyes widened. you thought jake and jay hated each other—if last summer was anything to show. why did they have a picture together? under it you saw that somebody wrote “swimming buds for life!” you checked the other pictures he had around again but this was the only photo that included jay. it made your head spin.
a familiar picture on his desk caught your eyes and you moved towards that instead. jake had gotten the pictures you took last summer developed too and had even dated them on the back. gently, you took the stack into your hands and looked at the picture on top.
it was the two of you at the abandoned skate park where you had your first kiss together. your head was tilted against his as you both smiled for the camera. a smile made its way onto your face and continued to grow as you continued flipping through the pictures, making your way to sit on the edge of jake’s bed.
you felt movement behind you and suddenly arms were wrapped around you as jake leaned up behind you to look over your shoulder. you gasped lightly when his hands rested at the lowest part of your hips and he placed feather-light kisses along your neck. “your awake,” you smiled as a chill ran down you, causing jake to chuckle lowly, sleep still at the edges of his voice. “i am.”
suddenly you were reminded at the fact that you both were still naked and the way your pussy now throbbed at his sleepy voice. you swallowed thickly and turned your attention back to the pictures in your hands. flipping the picture on the top to the back, you gasped and turned to jake in slight shock.
in your hands laid multiple pictures of you completely fucked out and dripping cum on a picnic blanket, illuminated by the moonlight and the flash of the camera. “asshole!” you nudged jake with a shocked smile and pulling a laugh from him. “i can't believe you took pictures of this!”
you looked back to the pictures with wide eyes as jake laughed more. “not funny…” you mumbled with a pout. you held one up where you were in full view of the camera along with jake’s cum covered cock hovering above you, “i look so out of it.”
jake took the photo from you and inspected it with a grin. “you were.”
you nudged him again, hard. jake laughed and wrapped his arms around you to pull you into him, placing kisses along your jaw. “it doesn’t matter,” he started, leaning his head against yours so his lips were near your ear, “these ones are for my eyes only.”
you giggled sheepishly, pushing him away from you as you tried to not let a wet patch form beneath you. you looked towards the window through the barely opened blinds. the sun was just about to set and you knew your mom was most likely wondering where you’ve been all day. jake followed your stare and you heard him sigh softly. “i should probably head home,” you stated quietly.
you turned to look at him, seriousness suddenly seeping into your features. “we’re gonna have to talk about this… about what this all means…”
“we can go slow,” jake said, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. “it’ll mean whatever you want it to mean.”
“bit too late to go slow,” you chuckled and he followed. you looked down to your lap, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the towel next to you. “i really don’t want drama this summer, jake.”
you glanced up to look him in the eyes, those pretty brown eyes of his. “i don’t think i can take another summer full of it,” you continued. jake nodded in agreement.
“this summer is just for the two of us. i promise.”
you let his words sink in before leaning up to place your lips against his in a soft and slow kiss. “now…” jake said as he pulled away, “are we just gonna stay naked, or what? because i’m really starting to lose my mind over here.”
heat crept across your face, especially as his eyes dropped to your nakedness. you covered your face with your hands as you turned away, jake’s laughter behind you, and moved to where he threw your articles of clothing. “timeout!” you muttered, as you pulled your panties on.
jake laughed more, “again?! hm, we’ll see…” he got up to get clothed as well. “let me walk you home.”
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[ SUMMER — THE TIDES ARE PULLED BY THE MOON ] 𓇼 and you are pulled by him.
you almost jumped out of you skin, fingers grabbing at your pajamas, as you opened the bathroom door and were immediately face to face with your cousin jungwon. “jesus!” you nearly screeched as you held onto the door.
“so… jake walking you home, huh? what’s that all about?” jungwon asked. he took a few steps back to let you leave the doorway of the bathroom and you leaned against the wall nearest to it.
it was dark outside now and your face heated at the mention of jake. fumbling over your words slightly, you replied, “we were just… talking things from last summer over. he wanted to apologize in person.”
more heat spread across your face. it was surely one way to apologize…
in order for jungwon to not see your flustered face, you turned and made your way to your room, jungwon following in tow. you opened your door and walked around the room as you got ready for bed. discreetly, you tried to hide all of the love bites on you, suddenly regretting being so careless about where jake marked you.
“hm,” jungwon hummed, “are you planning on getting back together with him?” he sat at the edge of your bed, eyes trailing your movements. you saw the way his eyes stared too hard at a spot on your neck with a raised eyebrow.
you sighed softly. truly, you weren’t sure quite yet. you had just arrived and it was too early to tell how this summer was going to fair. and you really didn’t want this summer to be a repeat of the last one. you wanted to get more settled in before you decided to make any rash decisions—even though you and jake had already slept together just mere hours after you arrived.
you sighed to yourself again. maybe that wasn’t the best of ideas.
“i don’t know,” you replied, plopping down onto your bed next to him. “after everything… i-i just don’t want to be caught in another web. i can’t go through that again.”
jungwon nodded solemnly and rested a comforting hand on your back. “whatever you choose—be careful, y/n.”
this time you felt the gravity of his words—the same words he told you last summer when he tried to warn you in meddling in things you were unfamiliar with. in getting involved with jake and his and his friends’ game. when everyone tried to warn you.
even if jake claims that he’s changed, you needed to see it for yourself. not just through words, but through actions. and then, and only then, would you consider giving your whole relationship another chance.
“whatever happens, i’m here for you,” jungwon continued. you gave him a warm smile. “i will. and thank you,” you replied.
after talking to jungwon you decided to text jake with your requirements. your thumbs fiddled with each other and your heart raced as you waited for the three little dots that indicated he was replying to show up.
jake: i promise you i’ll do anything it takes to earn your trust back. anything. i’ll show you that giving us another chance will be worth it, that giving me another chance is worth it.
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“everything is exactly the same as before, so there shouldn’t be any trouble,” mrs. song said as she led you back towards the front of the juice bar. you nodded in response as you followed her. “can you start later this week? say… wednesday?” she added in question.
“yes!” you nodded again politely. “wednesday is good! oh—can i ask you a quick question?”
“shoot,” mrs. song replied while waving off some kid trying to climb over the counter for more of the candy that sat in a bowl.
“last summer, a girl named hana worked here with me… does she still work here?” you asked as you looked to the floor with furrowed brows. pain stabbed through your heart and your mouth felt like it was full of sand just from saying her name. you hated the feelings her name evoked in you.
to think that you had an actual friend here in her… when all she wanted was to use you for her own gain. you knew it would be a ridiculous hope with how small the town was, but you still hoped you never saw her face again. never heard her name again. never felt these feelings that she caused. if you ever saw her again it would be too soon.
“oh, hana?” mrs. song questioned while focusing her attention back on you. “fired her not long after you left. horrible employee—i don’t know why i didn’t fire her sooner. or hired her in the first place.”
you let out a small sigh of relief that mrs. song seemed to pick up on. there was no way you could spend another summer sharing the same space as hana. it was impossible.
“you had problems with her too, yeah? hm,” mrs. song snorted.
after a bit more chatting and going over your future schedule you began to head out, trailing slowly along the shore. water lapped at your feet and your sandals swung limply from your fingers as you stared out at the calm waves. you think you could like it here after all.
“y/n!” you heard your voice being called.
breaking your attention from the sea, you turned in the direction of the voice. a smile grew onto your face. “jay!” you called back as he jogged up to you. “nice seeing you again!”
jay stood in front of you, holding a hand up to block the sun from getting in his eyes while he used his other hand to push his hair off of his forehead. you guided him away from the shore and towards one of the empty tables on the boardwalk. “was just getting ready to start my shift!” he replied.
you then noticed the outfit he was wearing—red shorts and a white tank top that read “GUARD” in bold red capital letters. a red lanyard with a whistle attached hung around his neck and he had a red visor tucked under his arm.
the two of you sat at the empty table and jay placed his visor onto it. he leaned forward slightly, a big smile on his face, “but i still have time to chat.”
and just like that it felt as if you were back at that campfire talking about anything and everything—like you and jay had been friends for forever now and it hasn’t been a year since you’ve last seen each other. the two of you just fell into such a natural sync.
you were even opening up to him about everything that happened last summer. mainly because you really couldn’t talk to anyone about it but him. he already understood all of the context and it was just so easy to talk to jay. you hadn’t realized how much you just needed a friend. and jay listened to it all attentively, not missing a single beat and inquiring about things you haven’t even realized.
“but enough about my past…” you murmured sheepishly, turning to the side to try and hide how warmth spread across your face. you just spend ten minutes talking about yourself and your problems without regarding the fact that it was probably coming off as extremely rude. “so how has the past year been for you?” you asked him.
you then gave him a cheeky smile. “any girls you’ve been seeing? interested in? tell me!”
jay laughed and shook his head a little. “no, i haven’t been seeing anyone. pretty much everyone here i’ve known for forever now… not the best candidates.” he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as he looked at you through his lashes. the corners of his mouth rose and he looked off to the side. “there has been this one girl, though… she’s definitely caught my interest.”
you gasped and leaned forward with your hands flat on the table. “what?! why didn’t you say anything sooner? i’ve been over here talking about my pathetic love life when we could've been talking about how good yours is going! have you talked to her yet? what’s her name?” the words flew out your mouth a mile a minute.
jay held his hands up as he chuckled, “woah, woah, slow down. i’ve talked to her a couple times now—but only briefly! i think she’s new in town, probably been here just a little bit longer than you have, actually.”
you grinned, “i’m excited for you! you gotta let me know how it all plays out. and don’t think i didn’t realize how you didn’t tell me her name!” jay’s face quickly turned red.
he stood from his chair, “ah, well, it’s all very new… haha, oh look at the time! my shift is about to start! bye, y/n!” he turned quickly as his words blurted out, throwing his words over his shoulder.
you rolled your eyes and stood to your feet. “whatever, i’ll get it out of you soon enough…”
jay pulled you into a hug as he nervously chuckled. “i seriously doubt it!” he mumbled under his breath before he jogged off.
“i will get her name out of you!” you called as you shook your head at him and watched his retreating figure, smiling softly.
you turned and continued walking aimlessly through the sand, feet sinking into the grains and leaving footprints. you watched as kids laughed and played with each other, darting around you and muttering passing apologies.
you were focused on the kid that almost ran into you running after their friends, not focused at all on the way jake crept up on you. “boo!” he shouted by your ear. you nearly jumped out of your skin, a loud yell erupting from your mouth. once you realized that it was just him, you hit him in his chest hard.
“jake?! are you serious!” you scolded, heat rushing to your face in embarrassment. you covered your face and he pulled you into him as he laughed hysterically. you buried your face in his chest briefly before turning out of his grasp and quickly walking away from the scene, trying to ignore the pairs of eyes that were on you.
jake trailed behind you and you heard him laugh more. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry! but that was so funny!” he said as he caught up to you. “you should’ve seen your face.”
he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him. “what are you doing here?” jake asked as he glanced down at you.
“getting my old job back, what are you doing here?” you asked in response, “besides scaring me half to death?”
his smile grew, “came down here bored, until i saw you.” his eyes lit up suddenly. “oh! we should make another bucket list for this summer! since… since we didn’t get to finish the one from last summer…” he trailed off, eyes looking to the side briefly in regret.
you smiled at him, trying to diffuse the sudden awkward tension. “we should!”
jake guided you near the shore and the two of you sat in the sand. the two of you debated what to do this summer for a while, only managing to come up with a couple of things. one of which was going to this year’s summer splash event since you left last year before it happened.
“you’ll still be my date, right?” jake asked shyly. you chucked and nodded. “if you’ll still have me!”
jake gave you that same fond stare that he gave you before you left his house and it made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “of course i do,” he said.
it was such a simple sentence filled with so much. your brows knitted together ever so slightly and you watched the way his eyes darted towards your lips. it then seemingly felt like it was only the two of you on the beach, and you swear that the two of you slowly moved closer to each other.
the sudden shrill of a child’s cry broke the two of you out of your trance and you both snapped towards where a kid was crying over the way the sea messed up his sandcastle. you turned towards jake again and gave him a sheepish smile.
“uh—how about swimming! um, you teach me how to swim… since i can’t…” you sputtered awkwardly, hands waving in the air at the ocean. jake chuckled at the way you suddenly reverted back to your timid nature around him and nodded.
“yeah… i can teach you how to swim!”
you nodded after him. jake began to stand to his feet and you looked at him confused. “i can teach you now, in fact. do you have your bathing suit?”
you rose to your feet as well and nodded. you pulled the tank top strap off your shoulder and looked down to double check, nodding again when you saw the white fabric of your bikini.
jake tucked his finger underneath the thin strap that tied the bikini top around your neck. he pulled at it lightly before letting go and then smirked at you. “good,” he said simply.
your cheeks were already flushed with heat, but the heat just got hotter when you realized why he was smirking. it was the bathing suit you wore to the beach party.
playfully—and in an attempt to mask your warm face—you rolled your eyes and looked away from him. “get your mind out of the gutter,” you mumbled.
jake laughed, “all i said was ‘good!’”
“anyway,” you said, “we should add our names to that skate park! i feel like that would help me really cement my being here permanently.”
laughing harder, jake replied, “isn’t that vandalism? are you even good at graffiti?” he suddenly stopped laughing, expression serious. “wait—permanently? you’re here permanently?!”
still on the subject of the skate park, you shrugged. “it’s abandoned anyways, isn’t it? and how hard is it to use a spray can to write our names? it’s not like we’re tagging it, tagging it.”
jake grabbed your shoulders and your focus zeroed in on him. his eyes were wide as he looked into yours. “you’re here permanently?!” he repeated. you nodded, confusion shifting into realization at the fact that you haven’t told him yet. “yes, permanently. my mom and i moved here the day we met at our spot,” you said.
jake’s hands moved from your shoulders to cup your face. he then kissed you passionately, absolutely taking your breath away. you giggled when he pulled away and he started kissing you all over your face. “jake!” you giggled more, pushing him away from you slightly.
“i’m sorry,” he said a bit breathlessly, “you just don’t know how relieved i am to hear that.” he chuckled awkwardly as he gave you some space and tucked some of his hair behind his ear. “so, skate park? got it, anything you want to do! we have all the time in the world.”
you mind immediately snapped back to the skate park. “i feel like that’s not as adventurous as our last bucket list though!” you pouted.
jake pulled you towards where there were some free towels at the boardwalk. he turned back and cheekily smiled at you, “i can think of something adventurous.” you stopped in your tracks and swatted his shoulder. “i’m just saying!” jake laughed. “we’ve done a lot, but there’s still some things we haven’t done yet… you catch me?”
heat crept up the back of your neck and you crossed your arms across your chest. jake’s eyes darted down to the action. indulging him, you asked, “like what?”
jake stepped closer to you and reached up to mess with the straps of your bikini. he leaned more into you and dropped his voice so only you would hear what he was saying. “different places, different positions… there’s so many things i could do to you that you haven’t experienced yet.” your eyes connected with his.
“or you could do to me,” he added, lower.
you looked away, face on fire. jake dropped his hands from the straps he was fiddling with to his sides. he took another step closer to you until you both were almost chest to chest and grazed his hand along the side of your waist. jake leaned down until his lips were at the shell of your ear. “if you want,” he whispered.
he pulled away, smiling at you like he didn’t just insinuate what he did and cause arousal to pool in your bikini bottoms. he grabbed your wrist lightly and pulled you the rest of the way to the towels, handing you a rolled up one from the basket and taking one from himself.
you were still in shock, eyes wide as you stared at him. you then snapped out of it when you realized he was chuckling. tucking the towel underneath your arm, you used the basket of towels to lean forward towards him. discreetly, you slid your hand down his stomach and stopped right above the hem of his shorts. “sounds fun,” you smiled innocently. “i know exactly what i could do.”
you hand trailed lower before you backed away from him. you held in your laugh at just how quickly the bulge in his shorts was rising and his ears turned red. you looked towards the sea, “so where do you wanna start?” you asked casually. “i’m gonna have to strip these clothes off first.”
you turned back to him and smiled again, that same innocent smile.
the corner of jake’s mouth rose in a “two can play at this game” way. he opened his mouth to speak, but got cut off by someone suddenly entering your conversation. “look at what the cat dragged back in,” the voice said, mean and full of bitterness.
you almost instantly recognized that voice, and it seems that jake did too since his face instantly twisted into one of annoyance and hatred. he moved closer to you while also hiding his boner with the basket of towels.
hana walked up to the two of you with a sneer and a dripping popsicle in one hand. two girls you never seen before trailed behind her with a matching sneer. you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms against your chest, leaning your weight towards jake. “thought the two of you went up in flames last summer?” hana added.
she focused her attention on you, “don’t tell me you’re still falling for his ‘i love you’s’… how lame.”
jake scoffed, before either of you could say anything you noticed jungwon come up to you all. he pushed past the two random girls and shoulder-checked hana as he came to your side. “look what desperation dragged in. i know the saying is ‘misery loves company’ but this is just getting pathetic, hana. don’t you have a job to be at?” hana scoffed and opened her mouth, but jungwon beat her to it.
“oh yeah, you don’t. because you got fired. i think it’s time you go find one, don’t you think?”
hana rolled her eyes. “whatever,” she said, trying to pretend like she wasn’t bothered. she stuck the popsicle in her mouth briefly as she turned towards the girls. “didn’t want to stick around you losers anyways.”
she looked over her shoulder at you, “careful, y/n. you know jake’s still in love with me.” she then winked at him and jake’s face twisted further into disgust.
“you fucking wish. i was never even infatuated with you in the first place. you already know that sunghoon is the reason why i even stayed with you for those four months,” jake spit out, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “stop making my life fucking hell and just move on already. i know i already have.”
you saw the way hana’s face fell and how she quickly masked it with a sickly sweet smile. “keep telling yourself that, jakey,” she said before walking away.
you loudly scoffed at her retreating body and the way she purposefully swayed her hips back and forth as you turned towards jake and jungwon. “the audacity she has is honestly astounding,” jungwon said, face mirroring yours.
“delusional,” you added, “the lot of them.”
“forget her,” jake said as he pulled you and jungwon’s attention back to him. he then smiled, “let’s go swimming!”
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“how hard is it to put one arm in front of the other?!” jungwon demonstrated how to use your arms to swim once again as a laugh was pulled from him. he swam out farther into the sea and then swam back, standing where you and jake were. “see? easy.”
“i’m doing the best that i can!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air in mild frustration as the remnants of a wave hit against your stomach.
jake then chimed in, “it’s actually not that easy!” jungwon turned to him in confusion and jake swam out a little from where the two of you stood. “there’s actually a certain way you want to move your arms in order to not hurt your shoulders.”
you turned to jungwon with a triumphant smirk. “see!” you said while crossing your arms. jungwon rolled his eyes.
jake continued demonstrating, specifically pointing out how to move your body to not hurt your shoulders. he also showed how to gain more speed and stay under the water for longer with breathing techniques. “here, let’s do it together,” he said, swimming towards you.
he made sure your positioning was correct and guided you slowly towards the deeper part of where you all stood. “like this! if you’re feeling any type of pain in your shoulders than you’re doing it wrong.”
after a couple minutes of adjusting and positioning, you really thought you were getting the hang of it. when jake was guiding you there wasn’t any pain in your shoulders at all, but as soon as you started to do it on your own you immediately felt the tightness in them. your face scrunched up as you instantly reverted back to doggy paddling, causing jake and jungwon to laugh.
with full shame, you doggy paddled back to where they stood. “you know… i don’t think swimming is for me, actually.”
“i tried teaching her last year,” jungwon started, amusement tinging his voice, “she literally almost drowned. it’s hopeless…” you glared at him and then rolled your eyes. you’d like to think that if it weren’t for the large waves that day that you would’ve been fine.
jake laughed and you glared at him too, though without as much venom. “it’s a good thing i was there!” he looked at you with the biggest smile on his face and you rolled your eyes at him too. they both laughed again as you tried to think of the quickest way to discard bodies on a public beach.
“we’ll try teaching you again another time,” jake continued. “you’re…” he trailed off trying to find the right word for what he was thinking. “horrible,” jungwon concluded.
“still a novice!” jake quickly corrected. you mumbled out a lame insult to the both of them and walked towards your towel on the beach.
they followed after you, still chuckling, as you wrapped the towel around your soaked body. “it’s not all your fault!” jungwon exclaimed. “your hometown didn’t have an ocean, or even a pool, really. don’t blame yourself!” you scoffed at his cheap attempt to make you feel better and the both of you laughed. your hometown barely had a highschool with a pool. you were never taught to swim in school because all the seniors poured so much gasoline into the pool as a prank that your school had to close off the area and it just never reopened.
coincidentally, that was one of the times jungwon was staying with you and your mom. on a dare, he made you venture into the closed off pool room and you almost didn’t make it out alive. yes, the two of you got in a huge amount of trouble by your parents. you made jungwon do all of your chores for the remaining two months he was there.
“we should probably start heading home though,” said jungwon, “i accidentally broke mom’s sculpture while helping auntie move in her stuff and might’ve insinuated that it was your fault…” your eyes widened as you slowly turned to him. he scratched the back of his head guiltily.
“what?!” you nearly shouted.
“yeah…”
you ran your hands down your face as you turned to jake. “i’ll see you later,” you sighed, moving into his open arms for a hug. “or maybe i won’t after this,” you added suddenly.
“i’ll see you later,” jake repeated as he laughed.
as you and jungwon walked off—more like ran since you were currently trying to smother him in the sand—he kept looking behind you and laughing to himself. you caught him the act again just as the two of you were about to leave the boardwalk. he looked behind the two of you, shook his head a little, and laughed. “what?” you asked him. he hummed in question at your response. “what’s so funny?” you continued, looking behind you as well. you couldn’t tell what could possibly be making him laugh.
“oh, nothing.” jungwon looked behind him again. you nudged him with your elbow, trying to get him to confess.
jungwon laughed again. “jake’s been staring at you this entire time with the fondest, most lovesick puppy look i’ve ever seen. i don’t think he moved from that spot or even blinked since we walked away.”
you whipped your head around and looked around until you saw him. indeed, jungwon was right. you smiled to yourself and gave him a little wave. the smile on jake’s face grew as he waved back.
“gross,” jungwon commented as the two of you turned out of jake’s sight.
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jake had, once again, put himself in the position where he was forced to listen about sunghoon’s recent victim’s complaints about their relationship. ever since he met you, he questioned how he ever found any of this entertaining. listening to sunghoon go on and on about the girls he wronged just made him feel exhausted—and guilty. jake couldn’t even begin to imagine how the girls he fucked over must’ve felt. the only thing he could come close to was the image of your heartbroken face the day you left him a year ago.
he never wanted to see that face ever again.
“she wanted me to fuck her—i fucked her. i told her not to expect a relationship out of all of this—now she’s crying about how i was dragging her along!” sunghoon ranted to jake as they made their way down to the boardwalk. sunghoon turned to him with an exasperated expression, “i don’t know how more clear i can get!”
jake pulled the whistle from his shorts and put the lanyard around his neck. “have you ever thought of being in a committed relationship with someone?” he asked sunghoon. jake adjusted his lifeguarding outfit as they got closer to the boardwalk.
sunghoon made a face. “dude, be serious. i’m young! i’ll settle down with someone when i’m, like, thirty or whatever.”
rolling his eyes, jake laughed at sunghoon’s reluctance to commit to someone. “if you find anyone willing to be with you that you haven’t fucked over by then.” the two of them laughed and stepped onto the boardwalk. it wasn’t as busy of a day today, which jake was thankful for.
“alright, i gotta go. my shift’s about to start,” jake said and turned to sunghoon. jake clasped sunghoon’s hand and gave him a quick pat on the back.
sunghoon nodded his head over to the lifeguard who was coming off duty—jay. jake tried not to roll his eyes. “incoming, you know how he is,” sunghoon said. “see ya, man.”
they went on their separate paths and jake walked to where jay was so they could switch. jay looked over from where he was grabbing his towel off the elevated chair ladder. jay gave a tight smile to jake, which already made jake’s blood boil. the only thing he could think about when he looked at him was how close the two of you seemed that night at the beach party.
as jay cleared his things for jake, he tried to make small talk to make the tension less awkward and heavy. “have you heard y/n is in back in town? for good?” jay asked. why was he asking him about you?
jake tried to not let his fist meet jay’s face again.
he tried not to be possessive over you, especially since the two of you weren’t even together again yet. and he wasn’t one to try and keep you from your friends, but jay was a whole different story. jake tried to not let the jealousy seep into his voice, “yeah, duh. i’m the first one she saw.”
“hm,” jay hummed as he threw his bag over his shoulder.
what was that supposed to mean? jake side eyed him. he was the first one you saw when you landed, right? jake would absolutely recoil into himself if he wasn’t. surely it wasn’t jay who you saw first, right? jake ignored him and started to set his own stuff down.
“better hope you don’t fuck everything up again, never know who might swoop in and take your place.” there was the jay that jake knew. the asshole under this whole ‘nice guy’ act he had been playing.
jake turned fully to him. “who? you?”
jake almost laughed in his face. jay couldn’t be serious, but he promised you he would try his hardest to not let there be any drama this summer. even if his fingers itched to wipe that slight smug smirk off jay’s face.
jay just shrugged. “could be, who knows? she’s very likable and very beautiful. everywhere she goes she attracts the stare of some guy. and i would say that you know girls don’t like to be treated like garbage, but with your track record that clearly isn’t obvious to you. you already almost lost her for good once.”
jake’s anger boiled over completely and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second to try and calm himself. it did nothing. jake wryly laughed and stepped up to jay. “so you think you can take her from me? you?” jake laughed again. “i’d like to see you try. incase it wasn’t obvious—she’s in love with me, not you. don’t you hate being a pale imitation?”
jake wanted to bring up every way that he had bested jay—down to the smallest thing, such as being able to tie his shoes before him. he would always be the better man. and even if jake wasn’t in some aspect, he would make damn sure that at the end of the day he was. jay had nothing on him, you had to see that.
it angered jake that jay was even talking about you this way. in a way that suggested he could get close enough to you for the two of you to be together instead of you and him. ridiculous, it all was. the only thing jay would be is a lesser version of him, constantly chasing after anything he had that he could never have. jake should’ve put him in his place when he had the chance three years ago.
jay’s smug smirk grew. “i don’t have to do anything. all it takes is her finding out the truth about the piece of shit that you really are and the game you like to play. and what’s inept infatuation to true bonding?” jay patted jake on the shoulder and jake harshly glared at him and pulled his shoulder away. “best of luck,” jay said in a low voice before walking away.
as jake climbed up to his post, the heat of the sun was nothing to the scalding anger inside him. he knew one thing for sure—luck would not be on jay’s side if he had anything to do with it.
you and jake were meant to be together, and jay’s hollow words weren’t going to change that.
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jay: hey, are you free? jay: cashing in that rain check to hang out.
you were on your way home, but it couldn’t hurt to hang out with jay. the two of you needed to spend more than twenty minutes together anyway and catch up more.
besides, the picture of him, jake, and sunghoon suddenly crossed your mind, reminding you that you had forgotten to ask jake about it. maybe jay would give you some insight on why the two of them had bad blood between each other when they were once “swimming buds for life!”
you: haha of course! jay: awesome, meet me at the boardwalk? jay: we can hang out at my place. you: i’ll see you there!
you turned around and walked back down the boardwalk, picking an empty table to wait at in a relatively clear area. the polaroid wouldn’t leave your mind as you speculated what could’ve possibly split them apart.
was it just a mere difference of opinion? or was it the two of them simply growing up and going their separate ways? your mind then replayed their interaction at the beach party last year, how angry they were at just seeing each other. it had to be something deeper than that. perhaps some sort of betrayal?
if that was the case, then who betrayed who? and why?
or maybe the reason was because of this game—the player’s game, as jay mentioned. the one that you have already been a victim of. his words crossed your mind, “there’s no winner in the player’s game. it’s best to know that before it’s too late.”
he had to be a victim of the game too, if he was saying that to you. were jake and sunghoon possibly a factor in it?
before you could speculate any further, jay’s voice shocked you out of your thoughts. “hey,” he smiled, grabbing your attention. you smiled back at him as you stood. “hey!”
as the two of you walked to jay’s house, he must’ve saw that your mind was elsewhere. jay nudged into you slightly as you walked side by side. “you’re quiet today, what’s on your mind?” he asked. 
you racked your mind for a way to bring up his and jake’s past friendship subtly, so as to not barge too into their private matters without permission. you decided to try and pose it a different way. “oh, sorry! i just got off work so i’m kind of everywhere right now…” you trailed off, before purposefully perking up as if you just thought of something. “hey, how do you and jake know each other?”
you then internally panicked, thinking that that was maybe too forward, and added, “i’ve been spilling my whole love story with him, and at the beach party the two of you seemed familiar…”
jay’s eyebrows knitted together as he thought over your question. you hoped that you didn’t hit a sensitive subject as you subtly wiped your sweaty palms onto the back of your jean shorts. “we use to be friends—best friends,” jay started, “and on the swim team together back in highschool. him and his friends were just really shitty, so i decided to distance myself from them for my own good.”
you nodded along at his words, trying to place them in the puzzle board in your mind. jay’s answer was vague, but at least it was something—a start. you’d just have to get your answers out of him and jake whenever plausible. 
a house that you assumed was his came up into view as the two of you continued walking. “so how did you get involved with jake? i know i kind of already asked you this before, but i’m still curious.” jay guided you towards the house as he spoke.
you told him about you and jungwon swimming in the ocean and how jungwon left to go get something to eat. about how you then mistakenly went further out despite not knowing to swim and how the waves kept beating you down. then finally about how jake had come and saved you.
jay gave you an incredulous look as he held open the gate to his backyard for you. you nodded in confirmation and his shock only grew. “i’m gonna have to teach you how to swim, then!” he exclaimed.
you looked around his backyard. he had a large in-ground pool with a nice patio set up filled with lounge chairs, tables, and an outside bar. jay’s backyard was absolutely beautiful. 
“apparently i’m a bad student, but it’s a deal!” you joked and jay laughed, leading you to where the lounge chairs were by the pool.
“show me what you got! you can’t be that bad at swimming.” jay then suddenly stripped off his shirt, leaving him in swim trunks. your eyes widened and surveyed the upper half of his body. jay slunk into the pool, going underwater for a few seconds, and surfaced. he slicked back his now wet hair and looked up at you expectantly. “well?” he chuckled.
you laughed, half of it full of shock and the other half full of nervousness, and stood from the chair. you began taking off your tank top and shorts as jay swam away from where you stood. once you were done, you dipped a toe into the water, face scrunching up at the coldness, and slid in completely. you shivered slightly as you slowly walked to where jay stood in the center of the shallow end of the pool.
jay motioned for you to swim a little and you ducked down until your chin touched the water. “jake taught me for a little bit last week, but it didn’t really stick,” you said as you swam around a little and showed off what you learned from him. you felt jay’s eyes on you as you swam and it made you nervous about your swimming form.
“well i’m a much better teacher than jake.”
you didn’t know how to respond to that, and you didn’t get the chance since jay swam up to you. jay’s fingers trail over your arms, positioning them as he told you how to move them effectively. he then had you swim around his pool more to see what else you needed to work on.
jay’s eyebrows were raised and he looked like he was holding back a laugh. “i told you i was bad!” you exclaimed, sulking down into the water as you swam to him.
“not bad, just…” jay trailed off and you quirked an eyebrow teasingly at him, “just…” jay laughed, not able to finish his sentence and you pushed him.
“see!” you laughed.
“it’s okay, we can fix it.” jay then came closer to you, instructing you to hold out your arms. he came up behind you, his chest almost pressing against your back as his hands slid down your arms. he began to move them in a swimming motion.
“this is the motion you want your arms to do—straighten your fingers more, you don’t want a cupping motion,” jay spoke. his hands moved to your shoulders as you continued moving your arms, moving them backwards and forwards and then down to your waist to do the same.
you heart rate picked up from just how close he was to you, his hands all over you, and his voice next to your ear. your breath hitched lowly as his hands moved to your hips. of course you noticed just how handsome jay was—you noticed when you first surfaced from the water and he scared you—but seeing it all up close was something different. being this close to him made you feel nervous, and it felt a little wrong, too.
you knew that you and jake weren’t together, but being this close to someone else after being so close to him felt a little dirty. like you were cheating on him in some way even though you knew that wasn’t true. it also—deep down inside you—excited you, being this close to another guy.
jay moved around your body until he was to the side of you. his eyes moved from his hands that left your hips and up your body and the way that it moved until his eyes locked on yours. a satisfied smile crossed his features. “just like that, you got it,” jay praised. you inhaled sharply at the way his praise went straight down to the pit of your stomach.
you hoped that your body’s reaction to him came off as nervousness. following his guidance, you gave a small leap as you swam around in a circle in the shallow end of his pool. you did another lap before swimming back to jay. he clapped a couple times as you reached him, a proud smile on his face. “i told you i was a good teacher!”
he grabbed your bare waist as you stilled and your eyes widened a fraction more than they already were. “next time, though, make sure you use your hips more. it makes the whole movement more smooth.”
the feelings inside you made you feel extremely guilty. jay was simply just trying to teach you how to swim, yet your mind was on anything but that. even now, with his hands sliding down to your hips briefly as he finished speaking, he was so close to you that you were practically chest to chest.
dumbly, you looked at him and into his intense stare, breathing hard. you nodded at his previous sentence, though you weren’t actually sure what he said to you. jay smiled, voice softer, “you did so good! you’ll be a pro in no time!”
all you could do was nod again.
there was then silence between the two of you, and this time you were sure that jay could feel the tension. the two of you held each other’s stare, unbreaking. suddenly, jay’s gaze flicked down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. you inhaled deeply as the look in his eyes shifted.
your phone then went off, the sound of a received text message seemingly louder than it ever was before. you and jay jumped apart, the tension in the air turning awkward as jay shifted away from you slightly. “uh, i’ll go get us something to drink…” he trailed off.
“oh—um, yeah…” you muttered awkwardly.
you both got out of the pool and you used the towel hanging off the back of the lounge chair to dry off before checking the message you received.
jake: hey, where are you? are you off work yet? you: yeah! i’ve been hanging out with jay. why?
the guilt ate away at you even more. you knew it was ridiculous—you didn’t do anything wrong, the two of you just swam around together. but everything just felt weird and off now, like it was a secret you now had to hide from jake. his next message didn’t make you feel any better either.
jake: hanging out with jay?! why are you with him? you: he’s my friend? and i haven’t really seen him since i got here… you: is that a problem?
jake didn’t immediately answer and it made you speculate about the friendship he and jay once had. your phone didn’t ping with his text message until right as jay was coming through the sliding glass doors with two cups in his hands. “i got us some lemonade, i hope that’s okay!” jay said, handing you one of the cups.
jake: no, not a problem at all.
instead of swimming more, you and jay decided to chill outside of the pool and soak in some of the summer sun and talk. the more you talked, the more the awkward tension that was between the two of you slowly dissipated and talking to jay again was easy.
the weird feeling inside of you didn’t disappear, though. as you talked, your eyes couldn’t help but be attached to jay. the way the sun beamed off his drying skin and how he kept pushing the long, damp strands of his hair out of his face. the way his whole face lit up when you said something funny and a smile broke out into a laugh. it made your heart race.
suddenly, it finally clicked in your brain. you were attracted to him.
guilt poured into you even more and you started to shyly avoid his gaze. if jay noticed the sudden shift in you—which you hoped he didn’t—he didn’t mention it. you made sure you eyes were focused on anything but him as you talked.
you tried categorizing jay in your mind as strictly a friend, but even then it felt like he didn’t fit into the box. like he belonged somewhere between “friend” and “potential romantic interest” and that alarmed you even more. so you did the only thing you could think of at the moment to metaphorically shove him back into the “friend” box.
“you know, you’re like my bestfriend, right?” you laughed, making sure to make eye contact with him.
jay’s smile grew. “i’m your bestfriend?” he teased, leaned forward on the lounge chair towards you. “write it in stone. get the friendship bracelets out!” a small sigh of relief escaped you and you laughed, glad that he didn’t give you a weird look or anything.
jay stood from his chair, a hand at his chest, “i feel like i have to say a speech now or something.”
you immediately waved your hands in the air in front of you. “no!” you dragged the vowel out, “that is not necessary!” jay laughed harder.
you checked the time on you phone and sighed. “i should probably head home now… my mom’s probably wondering where i got off to after work…” you stood to your feet, smile faltering on your face.
“no issue! ill walk you,” jay said.
you gave him another shy smile. it was probably best that you didn’t spend more time with jay at this moment until you sorted yourself out. you didn’t know whether it was that your emotions were still everywhere from the move and you haven’t quite settled in yet, or what, but you had to get it together and fast. 
“oh—don’t worry about it!” you quickly said, “i have to stop down by the boardwalk and pick up something for my mom.” it was a lie, but jay was standing so close to you that it was all you had.
“okay!” jay replied. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug, shaking you a bit. “we’ll hang out some more sometime later, bestfriend.”
you laughed, hugging him back and ignoring your racing heart. you looked to the sky at the way the sun passed through the leaves of the trees. it was a little past noon and you were ready to get out of your bathing suit.
jay walked you to his backyard gate and opened it for you, following you out. “see ya!” you waved at him. he repeated your words, waving goodbye.
just as you turned away from him, a rundown van that honestly looked on its last life pulled up to the walkway. behind you, jay scoffed and you looked at the oncomer curiously as you kept walking. you heard jay’s footsteps behind you walk towards the van.
as you turned towards the path to the boardwalk, you heard jay say, “heeseung, when are you gonna get rid of that beat up fucking van? shit is falling apart.” who you could only assume was heeseung replied, “don’t talk about betsy like that!”
you laughed to yourself as you continued on your way away from jay’s house. 
as you were walking, completely in your own world, you felt an arm wrap around your waist. you nearly jumped out of your skin as you turned and screeched. jake immediately held his hands up, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!”
you let out the biggest sigh of relief before hitting him on the chest. “asshole! this is, like, the second time you’ve scared me nearly to death!”
jake laughed before wrapping his arms back around your waist, pulling you into him. he pressed a kiss to your cheek and smiled down at you. “i tried calling your name, but you weren’t listening! what’s on your mind?”
you shook your head slightly and shrugged a little. you were just glad to be in his arms again. “nothing,” you replied, “just a little spaced out, i guess.”
jake hummed and the two of you continued walking together. you noticed how jake had subtly guided you away from the path to the boardwalk and onto one you remembered from when you first landed here—his house.
this was your chance. with jay only giving you a vague answer about their history, maybe jake would give you more insight. you looked at him, “hey, jake?”
jake hummed again, brows slightly drawn together as he smiled at you. it was time to bite the bullet. “you and jay use to be bestfriends, right? what happened between the two of you?” you asked. jake’s smile fell and he looked down to the ground before looking forward. there was almost what seemed to be a flash of anger that crossed his features at the mention of jay’s name.
“uh…” jake trailed, tucking a stray strand of his hair that wasn’t already tied up behind his ear. “i was a really shitty person back then. i hurt a lot of people—did a lot of things that i now regret.”
that was basically a regurgitated version of what jay had already told you, it wasn’t enough. you needed to know more. “yeah, i know that already. but what did you do to him that you guys aren’t friends anymore?” you said, trying to make yourself more clear.
“why do you want to know so bad?” jake asked, slight annoyance in his tone as he looked back to you.  “did jay say something to you?” his arm around your waist tightened.
jake had never gotten annoyed at you, so you felt the need to defend yourself. “no, but i saw that picture on your wall with you, him, and sunghoon. ‘swimming buds for life!’” you sarcastically mocked as you did air quotes. “and you freaked out when you heard that i was hanging out with him. should jay have said something?”
the annoyance in jake’s features only grew and he rolled his eyes at the mention of jay’s name. you didn’t understand why he was acting this way over a simple question. you told him you wanted no drama, and you thought he understood that. so why won’t he tell you what happened between him and jay? you thought that he would start being more transparent with you after last summer.
you didn’t realize that you were already at his house until he pushed the door open and took your hand in his to drag you up the stairs to his bedroom. “it’s not important,” jake said, pushing his bedroom door open. you followed him through, shutting the door behind you to muffle the noise. “but it is!” you insisted, voice raising as you stopped in your tracks.
jake turned around so he faced you, running his hands through the hair that escaped his ponytail that he sported before running them down his face in frustration. “he’s my friend and you’re—” you cut yourself off, sighing deeply and sitting on the edge of his bed. “why can’t you just give me a straight answer? what is it? what is it about me and him being friendly that has you acting like this?”
you looked at the way jake started to pace in front of you with a worried expression. was what happened between the two of them so bad that it couldn’t even be uttered? surely not, right?
“i—i just can’t fucking stand him! and i can't stand you with him,” jake began to ramble, face twisted into an expression you couldn’t quite read. “you not with me. i can’t stand how he spun all of this to seem like he is the innocent one in all of this—like he wasn’t part of the game too! like he wasn’t a shitty person too!”
jake continued, voice raising, but never reaching a yell, “and i can't stand—couldn’t possibly fathom losing you again because of him.” jake came to stand before you, desperately looking at you.
you shook your head in confusion. “what are you talking about—losing me? how would you lose me?”
jake slumped down next to you, leaning over to run his hands through his hair that had completely fallen out of his ponytail now. you glanced around his room, noting the pictures of the two of you hanging up on his walls that weren’t there before. he had replaced some of the previous pictures with one of the two of you. just then, a lightbulb illuminated in your head. “jake… are you… jealous?” you asked him quietly, brows drawn together.
“yes!” he exasperatedly shouted, falling back onto his bed and rubbing his eyes.
you turned, “you have nothing to be jealous about? jay and i are just friends!”
jake shook his head, eyes still covered. “you’re gonna find out how absolutely shitty i was in the past and how he’s so perfect and want nothing to do with me.” jake uncovered his eyes and looked at you sullenly. “i don’t know what i would do with myself if you wanted nothing to do with me.”
you laid down next to him so you were face to face and grabbed his hand. absentmindedly, jake rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand. you looked at jake and his kicked puppy expression, “you don’t have anything to worry about, jake. nothing.”
you looked at him firmly to make sure your words were really sinking in. you may have found jay attractive, but jake is the one who kept you up at night. who you can’t stop thinking about no matter how hard you try—who you spent a whole year thinking about. the one who you graciously let hold your heart.
“there’s no competition between you and jay,” you added in a low voice.
jake seemed to relax and the line between his brows smoothened. “a girl,” jake suddenly said. you gave him a confused look.
“he was in love with this girl, but she liked me instead of him. when he found out things didn’t go over so well… split the whole swim team in half with people choosing sides. it was a loss for both of us.” jake looked down at your intertwined hands, voice quiet.
“well i’m not her,” you stated. “you won’t lose me.” 
jake looked up at you and you scooted closer to him, lips mere centimeters apart. “you won’t,” you repeated, pressing your lips to his. jake’s hand raised to cup your cheek as his lips fell in sync with yours. the two of you stayed like that for a moment, the kiss growing more passionate and desperate as time went on.
you straddled him, lips still attached to his, and instantly jake’s hands came to your hips. pulling away, you breathed, “let me make you feel good this time.”
furrowing his brows, jake looked up at you with confusion. “you always make me feel good,” you started, crawling backwards until your hands reached the band of his loose shorts. “let me return the favor.”
you crawled all the way off of his bed and sat on your knees between his legs, your hands resting neatly in your lap. jake sat up, eyes widening slightly as he stared hard down at you. you looked up at him with big, hesitant doe eyes.
“you cannot look up at me like that, pretty.” a shy smile grew at his words and at the way you saw the tent in his shorts grow.
“will you teach me how?” you asked him. you’ve never given anyone a blowjob in your life, you barely even gave a handjob. nerves flooded you at the fact that you would possibly do something wrong and that would be the end of it. or that you didn’t do it well enough and it was just disappointing.
you ran your hands up jake’s thighs and played with the drawstring of his shorts. jake screwed his eyes shut and nodded a little, inhaling sharply before opening his eyes again. “are you sure?” he asked you, worry tinging his features. “you don’t have to—and i don’t want to hurt you.”
“i want to,” you stated firmly, fingers hooking onto the band of his shorts now. you tugged lightly at it.
“alright,” jake breathed out. “don’t do anything you aren’t ready for.”
you nodded impatiently, eagerly pulling down his shorts and boxers in response. jake lifted his hips so they slid off all of the way, his heavy cock springing free from its restraints. you took his cock in your hands and jake lightly put a hand on the back of your head to signal you to stop.
“go slow, and don’t try to take more than you can handle to try and please me,” he said seriously. “i don’t want you hurting yourself.”
nodding again, you nervously looked at his cock in your hands. you weren’t sure what to do first. wrap your mouth around him or stroke him first? your grip was feather-light and you looked back up at jake so he could tell you what to do.
he caressed the back of your head comfortingly, “you don’t have to be nervous, baby, it’s just me.” jake gave you a reassuring smile and you gave him a small nervous one back. “you don’t have to hold it so lightly either, don’t be afraid to grab it.”
inhaling deeply, you tightened your grip until it was firm, but not too tight that you thought might hurt. jake moaned lightly, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. “i-is that good?” you asked worriedly.
jake nodded, inhaling hard. “yes, yes, just like that.” drips of precum slid down the flushed tip of his cock. “now, just move your hands up and down while twisting back and forth a little.”
you did exactly as he said, moving you hands up and down his length while maintaining the grip you already had. your eyes were trained on jake’s face and the way soft moans left his parted lips and his head tilted back more and more.
“good, baby,” jake breathed out heavily. you felt the way his cock practically throbbed in your hands. “when you get to the top, grab harder.”
“harder?” you asked, slightly more worried. your grip was already firm and he wants you to tighten it? jake nodded more, brows knitted together as his eyes squeezed shut, “mhm.” his moans were louder now and his hand that was at your head moved to press down into his mattress with his other hand.
you kept stroking him, his precum making the motion a bit easier. when you got to the flushed tip of his cock, you squeezed down harder. a loud moan left jake’s mouth as his hips bucked up into your hands. “ah fuck,” he groaned under his breath.
you smiled. it was nice to see him twisted in pleasure instead of the other way around. it was especially nice to know that you were the cause of it. that you were making him feel this good. you wondered if this is how he felt when he made you feel this good. it made your skin heat up and arousal pool at your core the more you thought about it and the more he moaned and whimpered for you.
jake tried hard to keep his hips still, but it was as if he physically couldn’t control himself. “can i try my mouth now?” you asked timidly. breathing hard, jake nodded. he looked down at you with hooded, clouded eyes of lust.
you sat up on your knees a bit and leaned forward. you looked down at his reddened mushroom tip and started with some apprehensive kitten licks. above you, jake inhaled sharply. you looked up at him nervously and you saw something shift in his features. his pupils blew wide with lust and his fingers gripped his comforter to keep his hands at his sides.
“slow,” he intrustructed. it came out almost strangled.
hesitantly, you wrapped your mouth around the tip of his cock as if it were a lollipop, sucking your cheeks in a bit. another loud moan was ripped deep from within jake and he threw his head back completely. you pulled your mouth off of him, eyes widening, before preparing yourself to take more of his cock inside your mouth.
you wrapped your mouth around him again, going farther down his thick length before you suddenly gagged. jake’s eyes flew down at you and his hand grabbed the hair at the back of your head to pull you off of him. “are you okay, baby?” he asked, frantic.
you nodded, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you looked up at him with watery eyes. his cock in you free hand twitched. you swallowed thickly, “sorry…”
he moved his hand at the back of your head to caress your cheek. “it’s okay, just take it easy. okay?” jake said softly. “okay,” you replied.
inhaling, you took him into your mouth again, this time taking jake’s advice and going slow. you went down inch by inch, stopping before you got the feeling of having to gag again. you wrapped your hands around the rest of his length that you couldn’t fit inside your mouth and applied the same pressure as before. 
slowly, you bobbed your head up and down, sucking inwards so your cheeks hollowed. “breathe—” jake spoke before getting cut off by his own moans and whimpers. “…through your nose.”
it must’ve been really difficult for jake, trying to control himself while talking you through what to do at the same time. even now, the more you sucked him off, the more you felt him struggling to still himself so he didn’t potentially hurt you. a part of you wanted him to just let go.
you didn’t even notice the fire in your lungs until he mentioned breathing. so you inhaled through your nose, the tension in your body immediately being relieved even though it took you a few tries to actually breath through your nose and suck at the same time. at the base of his cock, you moved your hands in the same up and down and twisting motion.
jake was practically panting now, knuckles white with the way he gripped his comforter. his moans and whimpers increased and his hips bucked up into your mouth lightly, signaling that he was real close to cumming. “shit,” jake cursed, half of it coming out in a whine.
his hand was at the back of your head again, using your hair to pull your mouth off of him. you kept moving your hands, this time bringing them up further—and squeezing at his tip—to accommodate the lack of your mouth.
you barely got to lean away before his cum was shooting out of him and all over your face and hands. drips of it landed on his thighs and jake fell back on his hands, a loud moan ripping through him as his head flew back. you kept stroking him, the remaining cum dripping down your hands, as you helped him through his high. jake’s hips lazily thrusted up into your hands as he tried to catch his breathing.
once jake was finished, his cock softening in your hands, he sat up to look at you. you looked at him with hesitant doe eyes again and his eyes widened to saucers as he took in the scene in front of him. “was it good?” you asked shyly, worry hanging on the edge of your words. you swear you felt his cock harden.
“perfect. it was perfect, pretty,” jake responded, gently grabbing your chin. you licked your lips and was surprised at the slight salty taste of his cum. jake smiled and chucked a bit, “if you could see yourself from my point of view right now…”
you smiled cheekily at him. “so take a picture and show me.”
that got him hard again.
jake raised an eyebrow at you, his smile turning into a smirk. he leaned down to his shorts pocket and fished out his phone, then he aimed the camera at you and you heard the click of a picture.
he still had his phone aimed at you. you giggled, “do you want me to pose?” jake laughed and you joined him. “if you want,” he smiled.
you lifted his heavy, half hard cock in your hands and placed your tongue at the side of his tip while you stared into the camera. “careful…” jake warned teasingly. “i don’t think i could control myself again.” you smiled before wrapping your lips around him, giggling.
a moan slipped past jake’s lips and you laughed, pulling away. he tossed his phone behind him and raised his brows at you. jake grabbed your arms and pulled you to your feet. “okay, little miss eager… let’s get you cleaned up. i don’t think you want to go walking around with my cum all over your face.”
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being back at you and jake’s spot evoked emotions inside you that you weren’t quite ready for. being at your spot and laying under the stars with him caused a whole bigger tidal wave. it made you think of every moment that the two of you had here—good and bad. jake was right, this really is the best place to see the stars.
the last time the two of you watched the stars together, you were tucked into jake’s side, almost cheek to cheek. now the two of you were seperate—the only connection being the brushing together of your arms. you didn’t like how far away he felt, but you weren’t quite sure how to bridge the gap further.
you felt jake’s heavy stare on the side of your face and you looked over at him instead of the stars. you had spent the rest of the day together, roaming around the small town with your phones on record capturing every moment until the two of you ended up here. it felt like the day when you had stumbled into your shared spot and you and jake’s relationship changed forever. you quirked an eyebrow at him as the two of you stared at each other for a moment. you could tell that something was weighing on his mind.
jake exhaled, “i know you wanna take things slow, so i won’t ask you…” his eyes flickered to the stars before focusing on you again. you really appreciated how he was being open with his feelings with you, especially since he told you how difficult it was for him. “but, just know you’re the only one for me. no games, no lies, nothing. i want only you. you’re the only one i’ll ever want.”
you shifted so you were fully facing him, shocked at where this was coming from all of a sudden. you thought you curbed his earlier jealousy—maybe it was something else? “is this because of what hana said a few weeks ago? cause i don’t believe a single word out of her mouth. i know how you feel about me, i know that you aren’t a player anymore.”
“yes and no…” jake trailed. “i just want to make sure that you know. whenever you want to take things to the next level, i’ll be there. i don’t want you to think this is only about the sex for me, ‘cause it isn’t.”
jake then suddenly panicked, waving his hand in between the two of you. “though the sex is great—amazing, even, and i really, really enjoy it! so don’t think—”
you cut him off with a soft laugh, he is so cute when he is flustered. “i know, jake, i know.”
you sat up from the blanket you both are laying on. “turn around!” you tell jake. he smiled and turned towards the blanket while covering his eyes. “don’t look!”
taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. you thought now was as good as a time to take things to the next level. in the sand you nervously wrote out ‘boyfriend? yes or no’ with check boxes next to ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ 
you knew you prioritized taking things slow—which you definitely didn’t do—and having jake’s actions speak louder than his words, but you knew what you wanted. you knew the moment you landed here and ran as fast as you could to him. jake is the one that you want—the one that you’ll always want, and his actions have already proven to you that he feels the exact way.
moving to the side a bit, you told him to open his eyes. you took your lip between your teeth as you watched him read your words in the sand. you let out a small sigh of relief when his whole face lit up and he checked the ‘yes’ box immediately. giggling, you climbed into his lap and smashed your lips onto his.
“oh! we should take a picture!” jake perked up. he pulled his phone from his pocket and aimed it towards the words in the sand. “physical memories and all, right? well, not physical, but you know what i mean.” you laughed as he snapped the picture and one of the two of you for good measure.
as jake walks you home, the air between the two of you buzzes—almost glows with the help of the streetlights. your hand is intertwined in his and the world feels like it’s back in order. it’s electrifying—the way you turn and stare up at him just before you step onto your porch. you open your mouth to speak, but jake already knows what the words will be.
just then, the porch light turns on and you quickly look back at it before looking back at him. with a sheepish smile you tell him goodnight. jake’s heart can’t help but swell as he smiles back and kisses you on your cheek. “goodnight, baby,” he murmurs.
jake watches you walk to your porch and disappear into your house—not letting go of his hand until the distance physically breaks the two of you apart. he begins to walk home, thoughts of you flooding his mind. jake is so fond of you that it almost hurts. he’s so in love with you that it actually does.
he’s looking through the pictures and videos you both took today, a giddy smile on his face as he starts to send them to you like you asked earlier. then a thought crosses his mind. is it his jealousy and slight possessiveness creeping in? maybe. but his fingers are already moving before he can stop them.
jake just hopes that jay still has the same number.
attaching the imagine of you asking him to be your boyfriend and the selfie of the two of you, jake presses send. he waits a second before typing the message, “oops, meant to send this to my girlfriend. my bad!”
jay: read, 10:57 P.M.
jake smirks as he slides his phone back in his pocket. he knew that he was rubbing it in jay’s face, but he honestly couldn’t care less. how dare he try to come between the two of you? jake wouldn’t be surprised if he only started talking to you so he could get one up on him. pitiful, really.
it didn’t matter anymore, because now you were jake’s girlfriend—and you were all that mattered to him.
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“you just can’t help yourself, huh?” a voice said behind you.
you were in the middle of wrapping up your shift—cleaning the counter and tidying up for the next person’s shift. turning, confusion written all over your face, you were then face to face with hana. anger coiled her features into a scowl and she looked almost… paranoid? mascara clumped below her lashes and she honestly looked a mess. your brows knitted together at her words. what was she on about now?
“jake is mine,” she said with fevered passion. you just rolled your eyes and continued tidying up, opting to ignore her. that didn’t stop hana. she slammed her hands down on the counter, leaning forward. you raised an eyebrow at her. “first jake, now jay—you just can’t help going after my sloppy seconds, can’t you?” hana continued, almost shouting. she was borderline hysterical and you genuinely started to get worried.
“what? what are you talking about, hana?” you asked, turning fully to her.
your response only seemed to piss hana off even more than she was. red-hot anger boiled behind her eyes and she was attracting the attention of people passing by, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “don’t ‘what’ me. you know exactly what i’m fucking talking about! what do they even see in you?”
you honestly had no words. hana stormed off, giving you one last glare. you stood in place frozen, rag hanging limply from your fingers.
the vibration of your phone knocked you back to your senses and you quickly finished tidying up. you clocked out and on the way home you opened your phone to see what the vibration was.
jake: lunch at your house with your mom today is still on right? you: yup! jake: see you there, pretty.
you pushed open your front door, gaining your mom’s attention. she must’ve walked through the door minutes prior since she was surrounded by grocery bags. you helped her bring them into the kitchen and unload them.
“so… you and that jake boy, huh?” your mother asked you innocently, putting stuff away into the fridge. you were next to her putting stuff into cabinets. “yeah,” you said sheepishly, “we’re back together now.”
she hummed, quiet for a moment. “i know last year the two of you had problems that hindered you from wanting to come back here—problems that i see have been resolved now. i can tell that he does really care about you, honey, so don’t be afraid to jump feet first.” she looked at you from where she stood in front of the fridge, a spacey look in her eyes. you can tell she was thinking about your father.
“thanks, mom,” you smiled at her. she snapped out of her haze, smiling back at you.
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“and then—” you were cut off by a moan pushing itself out of your mouth, your back arching slightly off your bed. “and then she was just shouting like a maniac! the whole time i’m trying to figure out what she’s on about while everyone around us is staring.”
another soft moan left your parted lips and your fingers grabbed tightly onto your blankets. your brows drew together as your mind started to get hazy. you were just about to lose tract of what you were saying before the image of hana’s hysterical and angry face popped into your mind. “are you even listening to me?” you asked, flicking the blanket off of you.
jake looked up at you, lips attached to your core and fingers buried deep inside you. he hummed in question and it sent shockwaves throughout you—making your hips buck up into his mouth and your eyes flutter shut briefly. you pouted and jake pulled away from you, pulling his fingers out of you—the wetness coating them—and resting his hand on your inner thigh so your legs stayed apart.
“baby, i do not care about hana,” jake said. you scoffed and looked up at your ceiling, old glow in the dark stars sticking to it. jake chuckled and crawled up your body so you were face to face. “who cares what she said! she’s delusional and crazy—ignore her.”
you sighed and jake laughed more. “now, do you want me to continue or do you wanna rant more?” he asked you. you pouted more at him and he kissed your lips.
there was a knock at your door and you and jake panicked and he ended up falling off your bed and to the ground next to it with a loud thud. “one second!” you called as you pulled your panties back from the side and adjusted your skirt so it wasn’t halfway up your stomach.
turning to jake, you put a finger to your lips, motioning for him to stay silent. you went to your door and opened it up just enough to show your body. “what was that?” your mom asked you.
you furrowed your brows, pretending like it wasn’t jake falling on his ass, before acting like you realized what she was talking about. “oh, that thud? it was my suitcase—i still haven’t fully unpacked yet…” 
your mom tsked at you and handed you a dress. “found one of my old dresses while cleaning out grandma’s closet, i thought you might want it to wear to summer splash.” your eyes widened at you took it from her, a thankful smile forming on your face.
“it’s beautiful, mom,” you spoke as you examined it. she smiled before leaving you to unpack.
you laid the dress on the chair next to your closet before turning to jake. you held out a hand as you waited for your mom’s footsteps to retreat completely before rushing to him and helping him to his feet. the two of you smiled sheepishly at each other.
“i think i should go,” jake said in a low voice. he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck. the tips of his ponytail tickled your cheek. jake pressed a kiss to your neck, making you shiver, before looking back at you. “we can finish this later.”
heat rushed to your face and you nodded, fighting the urge to cover your face from him. jake’s smile turned to a half-smirk. he started to walk towards your door but you pulled him back towards you by his hand, a wild look on your face. “you can’t just go out the front door!” you whisper-yelled.
jake’s brows furrowed. “why not?” he whispered back.
you gave him an incredulous look. “jake, i snuck you in here,” you said before pointing to your window. “you were supposed to leave after lunch… you’re gonna have to use the window.” jake looked at the window and then at you, unmoving.
pulling him to the window, you opened it and the warm summer nighttime air hit you. you turned to jake and motioned to the window. jake raised his brows. he then intertwined your hands and rested his forehead against yours for a moment before kissing you gently.
“i’m going to be coming through your window all of the time now, i hope you realize that,” jake said lowly. you laughed softly at him, “i’ll leave it unlocked for you then.”
jake leaned on your open window, looking down at the grass below before turning to you. “you’re still my date to the summer splash event, right?” you rolled your eyes playfully at him, “duh! of course i am!”
jake smiled and kissed your cheek before stepping over the ledge of the window. he started climbing down before he unceremoniously fell on his ass again. you gasped and shouted in a low, worried voice, “are you okay?!”
jake gave you a pained smile and a thumbs up before getting up and shaking himself off. you watched as the living room light turned on. you and jake froze for a second, his eyes darting up to yours, before he took off—waving at you as he ran down the street.
you held in the urge to laugh as you quietly shut your window again, making sure to leave it unlocked. you were sure you were gonna hear about the “strange noises” tomorrow. you pulled your phone out and texted jake.
you: very smooth. jake: i know, i’m such a pro!
jake attached a blurry picture of him smiling while running that finally got you to laugh.
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[ CHANGEOVER — THE SUMMER SUN SETS EARLY ] 𓇼 and a cold wind sweeps up the sea.
jake laughed—the vibrations traveling throughout your body as you laid on his chest—and scrolled to another video on his phone for the two of you to watch together. he had come through your window like he promised and the two of you had spent the night in the same bed. now the both of you were in the bare bones of your pajamas—you in a thin tank top and panties and him just in his boxers—the morning of the summer splash charity event.
after a couple more videos, jake shut his phone off and looked down at you on top of him. “as much as i enjoy you sitting on my cock, we should both probably get ready… today is gonna be a long day.”
you snuggled deeper into his bare chest. the simple feeling of being stuff so full already had your mind cloudy. “but i’m so comfortable!” you mumbled, glancing up at him. jake smirked.
jake’s hands trailed down to your waist, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “hm, you’re so comfortable… how comfortable?” he asked, voice low. you sat up fully, a flirty smile crossing your features. you rested your hands on his chest.
“very comfortable.”
“let’s see, then.” jake’s smirk grew as his hands trailed down to your hips, head tilting to the side. his hands squeezed your hip slightly and you were practically already dripping.
you started rolling your hips, using your hands on his chest as leverage. both of your breathing started to get heavier. “like this?” you asked innocently, lifting your hips a little and dropping them again as you rolled them. jake’s eyes rolled back and his head fell back on your headboard.
“yes… exactly like that,” he breathed, voice almost hoarse.
the more you moved, the louder your moans grew and the cloudier your head got. at some point jake had to hold his hand over your mouth to muffle them. “shh, pretty,” he shushed in a husky voice. “i’m sure you don’t want someone to come in here and see us.”
you shook your head as you kept riding him. “f-feels so good, i can’t stop myself.” jake’s response was to kiss you instead, muffling your shared moans with each other’s mouths. he bit down softly on your lower lip and smirked at the way you moaned against his mouth.
the fabric between the two was seemingly too much for jake. before you could even chase his lips, your tank top was off and his lips were on your skin and his hands were exploring the new access to your body. you bit down hard on your bottom lip as his plump lips left love bites all over your skin.
a loud whimper left your mouth when jake adjusted your position so that he could easily fuck up into you. you buried your face in his neck to silence yourself, hoping that the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin didn’t alert any of your family members.
“f-fuck—” jake swore, voice stuttering as he suddenly stilled inside you. warm cum spilled into you and filled you even more. you looked up from jake’s neck through hooded eyes and watched the way his eyes fluttered closed.
jake exhaled heavily, his forehead resting against yours as his cum dripped out of you and down his hard cock. his lips sloppily connected with yours as his hips started fucking up into you again.
your brows harshly drew together as your moan was muffled by jake’s mouth. your nails dug into his shoulders and your body started to shake as each wave of pleasure hit you one by one like a tsunami.
“feels good, baby?” jake whispered near your ear, voice husky. you could barely answer him because if you did you would end up shrieking. all you could do was nod weakly as high-pitched whimpers and whines escaped past your lips.
jake swore again when you tightly clenched down onto him, body shaking like a leaf and nails so deep in his shoulders that you weren’t surprised if you drew blood. suddenly the floodgates opened and you were cumming harder than you ever did before as your body fully collapsed on top of jake.
stars swirled in your eyes as jake helped you through your orgasm, kissing your cheek and shoulder comfortingly as he rubbed circles onto your back. both of you were covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing heavily, the point where the two of you connected sticky with your mixed cum.
once your head wasn’t on cloud nine anymore, you shakily sat up. you gave jake a hazy smile and giggled. jake pulled you closer to him, chuckling, before he kissed you softly. “we might be in trouble,” he said in a low voice, accent heavy. you giggled again, ignoring the way your pussy throbbed from his voice alone.
you pulled away from him, almost fully naked body on full display for him. you both were definitely gonna have to throw away your respective panties and boxers after this. jake looked down at the mess you both created before caressing your waist with his thumb. there was that fondness in his eyes again. “you’re so pretty like this…” he trailed and you hid your face with your hands, heat rushing to your face as you shyly smiled.
jake pulled away your hands. “my pretty girl,” he said affectionately. you lifted your hips and pulled yourself off of his cock, more cum spilling out of you. you leaned back down to kiss him. “we should get ready now,” he said, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips.
you hummed before throwing his famous smirk at him. jake quirked an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth raising. “getting ready can wait another thirty minutes,” you murmured before trailing kisses down his body. jake’s breath hitched and his eyes fluttered shut when your kissed stopped right where the band of his boxers were.
your smirk grew. it was nice to know that you had the same effect on him that he had on you. that you could get him all worked up so easily like he sat in the palm of your hand. it made you feel on top of the world. “we aren’t done yet,” you said, grabbing his cum-covered cock into your hand as you began to stroke slowly.
a whimper left jake’s parted lips as his eyes cracked open. the corners of his mouth were still raised, “i’m gonna make you eat your words.”
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it’s safe to say that you and jake were a little late showing up to the summer splash charity event. all around the beach and boardwalk were people participating in various contests and competitions to raise money for the sheltered animals in town. you were in one of your mom’s old dresses—it was so beautiful and formal that you felt a little awkward and restricted despite its flowiness—and jake had on a nice suit that matched your dress. the two of you looked stunning, if you did say so yourself.
at some point jake got pulled away from you by his friends to participate in a competition and you wandered the boardwalk looking at all the competing people. you could see why this was held every year, everyone was buzzing with energy and there were smiles all around.
“hey… y/n?” you turned to see jay coming up to you. you smiled at him.
“oh! hey, jay!” you said, turning to face him. he had a serious expression on his face and your eyes knitted together in worry. “what’s wrong?” you asked him. jay inhaled deeply and a flood of words poured from his mouth.
“listen, i know you may think jake is the one, but he isn’t the saint you think he is.” jay gave you a firm stare. you looked away, sighing to yourself. “jay…” you trailed.
jay cut you off. “i have to say this before it’s too late. i like you, y/n. i really like you. and i’d never put you through all the things he has—lead you on or fill your head with lies and half-truths. if you’d give me the chance, i could show you that we’re a better match.” you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off again. “think about it…”
jay then left you standing dumbfounded and completely confused on the boardwalk.
later that night, there was a venue the coordinators booked where people could dance and mingle with each other over drinks. you and jake were on the dance floor, way past tipsy, but not quite as drunk yet. a slow song started to play and the two of you swayed side to side before jake spun you.
you smiled adoringly up at him and he mirrored your expression. you leaned closer to him and leaned your head against his chest as the two of you continued to sway. “you do know how much i like you,” you said to him, loud enough for it to be heard over the music but low enough that only his ears could hear and a bit slurred. you felt jake chuckle as his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
“i do,” he replied. “you do know how much i like you, right?” you laughed and pulled away slightly to look up at him. you pressed your lips against his softly.
there was something else hanging in the air between you that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. maybe your head was too misty from the alcohol, but it felt like it was on the tip of both of your tongues. you didn’t linger on it, mind distracted by the sudden need to use the restroom.
pulling away from jake, you told him this and made your way to the restrooms. jake watched you leave, a small smile on his face. his face dropped when he saw a sneering hana follow after you. in a quick second decision he decided to go after the both of you.
when jake caught up to the two of you, it felt like he was walking directly into a car crash. “the year you were gone he was with me!” he heard hana say as she shoved her phone in your face, swiping through various pictures. confusion spread through him. what was she talking about now?
your brows were knitted together as you took the phone from her, looking through all the pictures of her and jake. even with your clouded mind, you didn’t believe hana at first, but ask you kept scrolling you weren’t quite sure anymore. jake’s hair was almost the same length as it was now and when you checked the dates it said it was from a year ago.
“mhm!” hana said, and it felt like she dug her claws into your heart and ripped it out. “as soon as you got on that plane he came to me!” your heart dropped and you turned to jake, hurt written all over your face. you felt absolutely crushed.
“is this true?” you asked him, voice trembling.
after everything he said to you—he went back to her? when he said that nothing happened between them and nothing will ever again… was that all just a lie? did he take you as a fool again? you couldn’t believe this.
“i love you, you know id never go back to her when this whole time i’ve been waiting for you.” jake stepped towards you, still confused about what was happened. all he knew was that he didn’t want to see that hurt look on your face—he couldn’t take it. you quickly took a step back from him and he practically shriveled up and died.
in the background the coordinators were announcing how much money was raised tonight, but you could barely hear them with your heart beating in your ears. “but you went back to her,” you spoke, voice raising.
jake gave you an incredulous look. “you’re telling me you believe what’s coming out of her mouth right now? seriously? whatever she showed you—they’re fake. she probably edited them.”
tears welled up in your eyes, your emotions everywhere from that stupid alcohol you decided to drink. “i don’t know what to believe anymore! it’s always fucking something with you and i’m tired of it!” you exclaimed. you wanted to wrap your arms around yourself and disappear.
jake pleaded with you, “listen to me. listen to what i’m telling you! it’s not true.” he took another step towards you and this time you let him.
seemingly out of thin air, jay appeared next to the three of you, turning his attention to jake. “why don’t you tell her about what happened between the three of us, jake.” he motioned with a finger between him, jake, and hana. your brows drew deeper together as you looked between him. what is jay talking about?
“yeah, jake!” hana chimed it, a sickly sweet smile curling up the corners of her lips. “tell her.”
you looked back at jake and the bewildered look on his face as jay and hana pounced on him. jay then looked at you, “well, if you won’t tell y/n then i will.”
jay stepped closer to you and jake and wrapped an arm around jake’s shoulders. “you wanna know the real reason why jake and i aren’t bestfriends anymore?” jake pushed jay off of him but jay just shook his head, lips twitched up slightly into what looked like a sneer.
“believe it or not, we use to be close—me, jake, sunghoon, the whole damn highschool swim team. until jakey here—” jay poked a finger into jake’s chest “—decided to let it all crash and burn.” jay then turned to you. “now, i’m not the most innocent either. jake and sunghoon’s game they like to play—the whole player lifestyle—i use to be part of it all. we were all shitty, together.”
jay continued. “we would see who could get attached to us the fastest, and once they’d become too clingy… dropped. you see, we weren’t looking for anything serious, just some fun! we had just graduated and weren’t looking to settle down anytime soon. that is… until i was.” he then turned to hana, motioning a weak hand at her. “now i should've known better to fall for someone who was clearly still so obsessed with jake, but i thought it was young love. pathetic.”
hana rolled her eyes at jay before tilting her head at you, “you aren’t as special as you think. before he took your virginity, he took mine. i was you, don’t you see?”
jay snorted, “before he dropped you and barely remembered your name or who you were at all.” hana scoffed at him but jay ignored her. “hana and i started going steady and jake and sunghoon didn’t like that. it was always ‘oh, the two of you aren’t serious! you’ll just drop her like the rest!’ but months past and me not playing the game anymore only angered them more.”
jake finally seemed to snap out of his fog. “you’re such a fucking liar. we weren’t—”
“so they decided to get back at me, a harmless prank,” jay cut him off. “and clearly hana was using me to get back to jake, unbeknownst to me. they all thought it would be so funny if i found jake and hana together, to show me that she ‘wasn’t really worth it.’ and i did find them—only i didn’t find it funny, but to them the plan went off without a hitch so it was a success.”
jay turned from all of you. you could feel the anger radiating off of him as he retold the story and lived through all of the memories. shock grew on your face and you looked at jake with wide eyes.
“cue the big, disastrous fight that split the former swim team in half. lifelong friendships were broken, people were betrayed, and people chose sides. you get the gist.” jay turned back to you all, waving a hand in the air, face steeled.
he looked at you again. “you wanna know the kicker? despite not giving a single fuck about hana—not one—he then dated her after for four months. just to really stick it to me.”
your mind flashed to jake’s letter. about three years ago he said him and hana dated for four months but they “didn’t click,” so he broke up with her. he said that ever since she’s been making his life hell with her obsession with him and her trying to get back together. you felt like you were going to throw up. you hated hana, that much was obvious, but you couldn’t really dismiss the fact that jake took her virginity and then dropped her. it wasn’t an excuse, but it’s no wonder she’s so obsessed with him.
like she said, she was you. he probably made her feel like the only girl in the world for that one night.
“you’re just jealous of what jake and i had,” hana said, crossing her arms over her chest. jay’s gaze darted to her’s and wryly laughed. “sure, hana. you keep telling yourself whatever you need to help you sleep at night. jake never liked you the way you think he did. the only reason he dated you so long was because sunghoon dared him to see how long he could go before going crazy.”
hana blinked a couple times. clearly that information was new to her, too.
“i’m never one to forgive and forget, so now you can see why our friendship has long been dead and buried,” jay concluded. “i told you he’s not the saint you think he is.” jay sounded sorry for you and jake just stared at you with wide, fearful eyes. it was all too much for you to process.
“i need some space. i can’t… it’s over.” cheering exploded around you from everyone else at the party and you stumbled away, pushing through the door until you were hit in the face with fresh air. tears fell from your eyes and distantly you heard voices behind you calling your name.
you felt like no matter how hard you tried, oxygen wouldn’t reach your lungs. you pressed your hand to your stomach, trying to will yourself to breathe. you heard people arguing next to you and you closed your eyes to try and steady yourself as you inhaled sharply, air finally reaching your lungs. you turned to the voices as your ears suddenly heard them clearly.
“you just want everything i have, don’t you? can’t help yourself, huh?” jake shouted at jay.
jay got in his face and shouted back. “like you can’t help but throw the people you ‘care’ about to the side?” jay turned his focus to you. “tell me, y/n, who did he put over you this time? what lie has he told you to keep you crawling back to him?”
jake pushed jay hard. “don’t fucking talk to my girlfriend like that!”
“newsflash, you fucking idiot, she isn’t your fucking girlfriend anymore! you can’t help but ruin everything you touch!” jay yelled at jake. you felt your throat tightening again and you took a step back from them.
tears poured down your cheeks and a loud sob left your parted lips. they froze as their gaze snapped to your broken form. you turn and took off in a random direction that you hoped was towards your house.
you ran until you physically felt like you were gonna burst and gulped in a large breath of air. you heard jake calling after you as you swayed on your feet, vision blurring even more. jake put a hand on your shoulder, “baby…”
you spun in place, shrugging his hand off of you. “explain. explain right fucking now, or i swear we’re done for good. what else have you been keeping from me?” you asked through tears.
in the moonlight you could see the sparkle of tears welling up in jake’s eyes. “i swear there’s nothing else! i-i just didn’t want you to look at me like a monster when i’ve done everything in my power to not be that person anymore,” jake promised. you scoffed and looked away from him.
“i’m not gonna let you slip through my fingers again,” jake said. he sounded desperate but his words fell on deaf ears. “i already am,” you coldly replied.
jake grabbed your hand in his, intertwining them. suddenly you felt his hands all over you—his lips all over you and leaving the marks that were still on your skin, covered. “y/n… please just think this through. i haven’t seen hana at all until that day on the beach with you. i was a horrible person back then, but can’t you see that i’ve changed?”
you pulled your hand away. “i need time to know if i can trust you. we need to spend some time apart,” you replied, completely detached. the tears stopped falling from your eyes but your cheeks were still wet. all you felt was numb. you gave jake one last look before turning and walking away.
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you haven’t been processing the past week and a half well—if at all. instead, you’ve been drinking a lot more than you care to admit. there practically hasn’t been a day where you weren’t at least a little bit tipsy. like today, you were just past tipsy and at the point where your mind was fogged over.
all you could think about was how hana said that she was you at one point and how that completely messed with your brain. what if jake was just seeing how long he could spend with you before going crazy like he did with hana? make you feel like the only girl in the world until the two of you “don’t click” anymore? it all terrified you, so you decide to not think about it at all.
you and jungwon were in your living room, lazily lounging on the couch as episodes of H2O: just add water played. you sighed deeply to yourself and jungwon looked over at you in question.
“everything reminds me of him,” you sighed again, watching as the girls raced to cover from the water.
jungwon side-eyed you. “be serious,” he said, eyes focusing on the tv screen again.
you stood from the couch, stumbling a bit. jungwon sat up. “where are you going?” he asked. you grabbed your jacket, there’s been quite the chill in the air lately, and slipped on your shoes at the door. “somewhere where i don’t think of him,” you responded.
opening the door, you stepped out before jungwon could say anything else.
truthfully, you didn’t know where you were going. you decided to wander and let your feet guide you hopefully to somewhere that jake wasn’t. that’s how you ended up a couple feet from jay’s backyard gate.
his words crept into your mind. maybe the two of you were the better match—and you were so, so lonely. at the very least, you just needed someone to comfort you. you knew drinking everyday wasn’t healthy, and jay was your friend. he would help you, right?
suddenly you heard his voice. “y/n?” jay asked and his face appeared in front of you. he looked worried and it took a second to realize that you were crying.
jay ushered you inside and to his room. he sat you on his bed, making sure that you were comfortable as he laid your jacket onto his desk chair. “what happened?” jay asked and all the emotions you tried so hard to keep at bay rushed forward.
it didn’t help that you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on jay’s door. jake’s love bites were just about healed—but you could still see them. it made you cry harder.
jay took you into his arms and you melted into them, crying into his chest. he rubbed comforting circles into your back and held you close until you were able to calm down a little. you looked up at him for a moment, still teary eyed, and softly pressed your lips to his.
you could tell that he was shocked—you were a little too, but he kissed you back nonetheless. the soft kiss between the two of you soon grew heated and you lifted yourself up onto the bed to sit in jay’s lap as his hand came to rest against your cheek. it wasn’t enough, you needed more.
deepening the kiss you grinded against jay’s thigh and he pulled away from your lips slightly, brows drawn together as his eyes remained closed. “y/n…” jay breathed, his voice low. “you're emotions are high right now and i don’t want you to do something that you’ll end up regretting. take a nap, we can talk more when you wake up and you’re sober.”
he pulled away more but you just shook your head. you needed this. “please…” you whispered, looking at him desperately before chasing his lips. whatever internal battle jay had with himself, he clearly lost as he kissed you back with more passion than before.
you grinded against his thigh more, low whines escaping your mouth as you tried to pull him closer. then, you blinked and you were under him. the two of you caught your breath, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. “do you want me to be nice…” jay trailed, breath fanning across the side of your neck, “…or do you want me to be mean?”
change is what you needed, and jake was always so nice when the two of you were intimate. “mean,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. jay smiled before dipping his head to kiss you again, this time rougher.
clothes were discarded and in a flash you were laying naked on jay’s bed. your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer as you grabbed his shoulders for dear life as he pushed into you. your face contorted into one of pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your moan.
jay pushed you back onto the bed so he could get a full view of you and shook his head. “so pathetic and desperate… i want to hear you moan for me.”
he thrusted roughly into you and you moaned loudly. “that’s it,” jay smiled, fucking into you at a fast pace.
your eyes rolled back and all you could do was let the moans and whines and whimpers spill from your open mouth. jay’s pace was so fast that you felt like you were being split in two, his thick length stretching you so good that you saw stars.
he bent down to the shell of your ear, grunting from the effort he was putting in as he held down your hips, “i bet he never made you feel this good.” your back arched off the bed as you started to tremble.
“never was able to have to have you act like a whore in heat for cock, has he?” jay asked. you couldn’t answer him, head too in the clouds to even form a coherent sentence. you felt too good and pleasure spread throughout every inch of your body. it made you forget what you even came here for.
you were flipped so that you were on your hands and knees. your face fell down into the pillow. suddenly, there was pain at your scalp. jay kissed the side of your neck, his hand buried in your hair. “show me how much of a good girl you are. how desperate you are.”
gulping, with shaky legs you fucked yourself on his cock. everytime your head would try to fall, jay would tighten his grip in your hair to keep you upright. the more you fucked yourself onto him, the more your legs shook at the feeling in the pit of your stomach grew. you were sent over the edge when jay pushed your head into the pillows and fucked you himself.
“too m-much!” you cried, tears springing to your eyes. “can’t…”
“awe, you poor slut…” jay cooed mockingly. his condescending words only aided the rope in your stomach further to snapping. “sweet, pretty little whore. be glad your head is in the pillows and i’m not making you ride me like i should be.”
you cried out again, rope completely snapping as you came around jay’s cock. he didn’t stop—of course he didn’t. he was gonna keep going until he got his fill too.
you writhed underneath him as his pace only grew quicker. he pulled you by your hair towards him and back onto his cock as leverage to rut into you quicker. your mixed grunts and moans filled his room and the overstimulation sent you spiraling.
jay twitched inside you and he let go of your hair and grabbed your hips tightly, holding them against his as he came inside you and filled you up more. a loud moan fell from his lips as you fell back into the pillows, your body feeling like complete jelly.
“fuck,” jay groaned. “that’s my little slut.”
pulling out of you, you felt as your mixed cum poured out of you and down the back of your legs in a thick load. jay cursed behind you again before taking two fingers and fucking your sensitive hole with them, groaning at the wet sound it made. you whimpered, trying to angle your hips away from him.
“so pretty… so pathetic.” jay chuckled to himself.
your mind was still hazy from the alcohol as jay pulled you up onto shaking legs to get you all cleaned up in his bathroom. you could barely see with the change of scene and bright lights making everything seem blurry. you didn’t even realize that you were back in his room now and he was helping you put your shirt back on.
it wasn’t until you woke up, who knows how many hours later, next to him in just your shirt and panties confused. your head felt like it was going to explode from the alcohol as you took a look around the room, eyes widening from the unfamiliar surroundings. you were even more confused when a sleeping, half-naked jay was next to you. a horrific expression set on your face.
the sun was just about to set and guilt and regret hit you like a freight train. slowly, you slid out of the bed, making sure that jay didn’t wake up. you hurriedly put the rest of your clothes and jacket on and rushed out of jay’s room as quietly as you could.
all of the memories rushed back to you all at once as you rushed down the path to the boardwalk. what have you done? kissing jay was one thing, but sleeping with him? that was something entirely else. now it was all tangled in your emotions regarding your relationship with jake.
head hung low, you ran all the way back to you house, wishing that you never stepped out in the first place.
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you had just gotten off work and were on your way home when a hand grabbed your wrist and spun you around.
“so you slept with him?” jake asked, crossed somewhere between hurt and anger. your eyes widened and that familiar guilt filled you once more. “i-i was drunk, it was a mistake!” you quickly replied.
jake wryly laughed. “a mistake…” he trailed, shaking his head and looking to the ground.
“yes, a mistake!” you exclaimed, pulling your wrist from his grasp. “and i regret ever doing it. you’re acting like you’re the only one who’s allowed to make mistakes!” jake looked at you incredulously. “how did you even find out?” you asked.
you surely didn’t tell anybody, you had no want nor need to flaunt it around. it never should’ve happened at all. that doesn’t mean jake got to look at you like you betrayed him when the two of you aren’t even together anymore.
jake pulled out his phone and shoved the screen in your face. “because he sent me a fucking picture of you sleeping half-naked in his bed with the word ‘checkmate’ attached.”
heart dropping, you took jake’s phone as you looked horrifically at his screen. you weren’t half-naked—you were covered by your rolled up shirt and panties—but it was still way too exposed. you honestly couldn’t believe that jay would take a picture of you after—and send it to jake, no less.
the sudden realization hit you harder than all of the guilt and regret you’ve been feeling. jay used you to get a leg up on jake. how much of him liking you was just him trying to get back at jake through you. a second realization hit—they’ve both been using you to get back at each other in this years-long rivalry. you felt sick.
tears welled up in your eyes and you pushed jake’s phone into his chest to get it away from you. you ran your hands down your face as you tried to breathe. you then glared up at him, “don’t act like you care... you only want me to get a leg up on jay. you don’t actually want me. both of you have been using me to get back at each other. all of this has been meaningless.”
“that’s not true, and you know that’s not true.” jake sighed deeply. “if you want jay—fine. i’ll take a step back and i won’t bother you anymore. but you can’t keep dragging me along and toying with both our feelings because you can’t decide. we can’t do this anymore—i can’t do this anymore, y/n. you know that i’m in love with you, and i know that you love me too deep inside. i’m trying to tell you how you calling this all meaningless really hurts me.”
“you’d know a lot about hurting people,” you murmured. “and ‘dragging you along’? ‘toying with both of your feelings’? i’ve done nothing of the sort.” a single tear fell from your eye and you harshly wiped it away.
“if you can’t accept that it was a mistake sleeping with jay and that i deeply regret it—whatever. but, the only people dragging people along and toying with feelings have been you and jay.” with that you turned on your heels and stormed off.
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[ AUTUMN — THE COLD AIR MATCHES YOUR HEART ] 𓇼 and it’s freezing to the bone—yet, there’s a spark.
your mind was everywhere lately, a complete mess. at least you had stopped drinking since sleeping with jay. only, things changed for the worse.
you felt like an echo of who you were when you first arrived in this town. in a couple of weeks you had managed to convince yourself that maybe this was the best you were ever going to get. that maybe letting people use you in such ways was the only way you would ever feel loved. at least, that’s how it seemed—and so far nothing was proving your thoughts wrong.
the relationship between you and jay was complicated. you didn’t even know how to describe it anymore. he went around acting as if you were his girlfriend, even going so far to plant kisses on your cheeks. however, the two of you haven’t even kissed since the day you slept with him.
on your end, he was still just a close friend—though you have been growing more distant from him. you didn’t know if he noticed, and at this point you didn’t care. the only thing you wanted to do these days were get up, go to work, go home, and sleep the rest of the day away.
you were walking home one day after work, completely out of it and not at all listening to what jay was saying to you, when he stopped you. jay sighed to himself, like something had been weighing on his mind. “i can’t,” he said suddenly. all your energy allowed was the quirk of your eyebrow in a silent question.
“this has to stop. clearly you aren’t interested and i like you way too much to have only a half-assed relationship. it’s either one-hundred percent or nothing at all.”
something clicked in your brain and you gave him a pleading look as you shook your head. you didn’t want to lose the only affection you had left. “what are you talking about?” you asked.
“i mean come on, the two of you are made for each other, it's clear as day!” jay drawled. “has anyone told you what he was like when you left? even i was shocked to see him look like a shell of himself. and you act like i can’t see it—even when you’re with me you’re imagining you’re with him…”
tears poured from your eyes as you shook your head more. “no… no, that’s not true!”
deep down you knew it was true. you spent all your waking hours thinking about jake. thought about how royally you both fucked everything up. and to think that you didn’t want drama this summer… all your summer was filled with was drama—and it was creeping into your autumn too.
all you wanted was to be in jake’s arms again, but you didn’t know if that would ever happen. not after how much the two of you hurt each other. maybe it was for the best that you weren’t together if all it was going to cause was pain.
jay nodded at you solemnly. “go. be with him. stop delaying the inevitable when we both know the two of us won’t work out.”
“but-but i like you!” you exclaimed. another lie, but it was your last attempt at the love you so desperately clung to—even if it was false.
“not in the same way you love him, y/n.”
jay gave you a sad smile before he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone as tears slid down your cheeks. you wrapped your arms around yourself as the cold autumn breeze draped over your body and made you shake. you sniffled and kept walking to your house, trying not to cry harder.
later that night you were even more of a mess than you were before. you sat in the dark of your room as you cried even more and even harder, the tears just seemingly never ended.
all you thought about was how you fucked everything up. how nothing will ever probably be the same again. and worst of all—all you wanted was someone who most likely didn’t want anything to do with you anymore.
to make matters worse, the subconscious part of your brain was working overtime and you didn’t even register the ringing of the phone pressed to your ear until it was too late. 
“y/n?” jake’s voice asked softly, slightly groggy. shit.
your eyes widened to saucers and you fumbled with the phone in your hands as you tried to quiet your sobs. you finally pressed the ‘end’ button and threw your phone across the room. seconds later you heard your phone buzzing with a missed call and texts from jake. 
“shit…” you trailed, realizing your mistake. all you did these days were make mistakes. “shit, shit, shit!” the tears fell from your eyes faster and you desperately wanted to scream—and you would’ve if it wasn’t so late in the night and your family was asleep.
a few minutes later, you heard the familiar opening of your window. jake stepped over the window ledge, clad in his pajamas and his long hair tousled like he got attacked by wind despite there not being even a breeze outside. shocked filled you as your eyes met his after so long.
you quickly wiped away your tears and turned your back to him. “i-i don’t want to talk to you!” you lied, sniffling hard to stop the sob trying to fight its way out of your body. you hated to admit it, but jake’s mere presence already made you feel immensely better.
the sound of your window closing behind you made you jump slightly. “then don’t talk,” jake said. behind you, the bed dipped. jake pressed his back against yours and you could feel the slow rise and fall of his breathing. “but i’m not leaving you alone right now.”
slowly, jake intertwined his hand with yours. “you can be as angry as you want with me. be as silent as a mouse until you want to talk again… but i’m not leaving your side.” the pad of his thumb rubbed the back of your hand and you broke down completely.
sobs wrecked through your body and you could no longer hide them from him. hot tears ran down your cheeks—more tears than you felt like you’ve ever cried in your entire life. you completely unraveled. you could tell that jake wanted to turn around and comfort you—you felt the turn of his head as he tried to look at you and the twitch of his fingers—but he wanted it to be on your terms. that just made you cry even more.
you’ve cried so much today that you were sick of crying forever.
it was shocking that even for a second you thought differently. jake was the one for you. it was always going to be jake, no matter the up and downs the two of you went through. it was never going to be anybody but him. you burned for him like you didn’t for no other.
finally, you managed to get yourself together enough to speak. half coherent apologies fell from your lips. “i-i’m sorry,” you finally managed. “i’m so sorry. i… i ruined everything and—” jake shushed you and you felt him shake his head.
you continued anyway, “i was acting like… like…” you just couldn’t find the right words.
jake shushed you again, this time turning to face you. you turned too, blistering tears still falling from your eyes. jake shook his head and cupped your wet cheeks with his hands, using the pad of his thumbs to wipe them away. you stared at him again for the first time in so long, still not quite believing that he was in front of you again.
you both seemed to be worse for wear. there were dark circles under jake’s eyes and they were red-rimmed like he had cried recently. still, he looked at you with that certain look in his eyes that he always had, and you were finally able to put a name to it—love.
“you didn’t do anything wrong,” jake said softly, but firmly. “nothing at all. if anyone is sorry, it’s me. you don’t know how sorry i am for making you think that i was dragging you along and toying with your feelings. i would never do that to you.”
your brows knitted together. you didn’t understand how he was so forgiving of you. you shook your head, “you deserve better than me.”
jake just chuckled. “i don’t want anybody but you.”
jake rested his forehead against yours before pulling you closer to him. you rested your head against his chest, hearing the soft thumps of his heartbeat, as you wrapped your arms around him. jake held you tightly—like if he let you go you would completely disappear.
slowly, you felt yourself begin to drift, the taxing emotions of the day finally catching up with you. you gripped the back of jake’s pajama shirt, scared that once you fell asleep you would wake up and he would be gone and this was just all one big dream. but the more you tried to say awake, the further your eyelids drooped.
“come here,” jake whispered, moving into a lying position. you cuddled up into his side, your head on his chest. jake rested his chin on your head. “sleep,” he said. “i’m not going anywhere.”
it didn’t take you long to drift into darkness, the sound of jake’s heartbeat aiding you. still, you grabbed onto him like your life depended on it the entire way—even after jake had covered the two of you with your blanket.
in the morning, jake awoke to you still tucked into his side and to the creek of your bedroom door opening. jungwon poked his head inside, a worried look on his face, before nearly jumping ten feet in the air after seeing jake.
jake held a finger to his lips, silently telling jungwon to keep quiet since you were still sleeping. with wide eyes, jungwon nodded. slowly, he shut the door and left the two of you alone.
looking down at you, jake made sure that you were still sleeping and was relieved to find that you still were. the sun peeked through your closed blinds, lighting up your room ever so slightly. jake held you closer to him and softly cradled your face with his hand, careful to not wake you. you stirred, but only to move closer to him, making jake smile.
later, you stirred again. this time jake knew you were waking up since your grip on his shirt suddenly tightened again as you stiffened. jake rubbed circled onto your back before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, the actions visibly relaxing you.
your eyes cracked open, adjusted to the change in brightness, and looked up at him before you buried your face back into jake’s chest. jake’s smile grew and you felt the vibrations of his laugh. “good morning, pretty,” jake said.
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the cold autumn weather was only getting colder, but that didn’t stop you and jake from going to your spot.
you were giggling as jake wrapped his scarf around you, purposefully covering more of your face than he needed. he then pulled the scarf down to chastely kiss your lips, returning the scarf back to its former position of covering your face. you giggled more, “you gonna get sick!”
“all that matters to me is that my girlfriend doesn’t get sick,” jake replied. 
you pulled him closer to you by his jacket and pressed your lips against his. the two of you moved your lips in sync before you pulled away, serious. there was something that you’ve been meaning to tell him since you’ve got here, and you felt that now was finally the time.
almost nervously, you said, “i love you, jake.”
jake stared at you for a second with wide eyes, like he thought he didn’t quite hear you clearly. when you smiled nervously at him is when it finally clicked for him. jake’s whole face lit up and he kissed you so passionately that the two of you almost fell over. “i love you,” he said before kissing you again.
you pulled away for air, giggling at his reaction. he started kissing you all over your face and you pushed him away, laughing more. “jake!” you exclaimed. he pressed a couple more kisses to your cheeks before kissing your lips again. “what?” he asked innocently, “i was just warming you up.”
you rolled your eyes and stood to your feet. you pulled him to his feet as well and the two of you dusted off sand from your clothes. “well, we should probably move away from the sea,” you smiled at him. your face then lit up.
there was still one more thing on your shared bucket list that you and jake still didn’t do. you completely forgot about the bucket list in general with everything that happened. “the abandoned skate park!” you exclaimed. “we still haven’t added our names to it!”
jake intertwined your gloved hand with his. he looked at you with eyes full of love. “let’s go then!” he smiled at you, kissing your cold cheeks. you scrunched your nose at him before dragging him out of your spot and towards the skate park.
on the way there, the two of you bought a disposable camera and a can of spray paint in your favorite color—at jake’s adamance. the two of you seeked out a good place to add your names for a while before finally finding the perfect spot.
“okay, go!” jake said, aiming his phone towards you. you turned and sprayed “y/n + jake = forever” into the spot the two of you had picked out before running back to where jake stood. the two of you switched—you taking the phone to record and him the spray can. jake then ran over and sprayed a wonky heart around your names, causing you to laugh.
jake looked back at you and laughed. “i told you you should’ve done the heart!”
you came up to him and he wrapped his arms around you as you got the two of you and your names in the camera view—kissing him briefly with an adoring smile—before ending the recording all together. jake then pulled the disposable camera out of his jacket pocket and snapped a picture of it and then of the two of you next to it. “to more memories!” he said.
after, jake turned to you. “do you remember what happened here?” he asked you. you nodded, “of course i do! this is where we had our first kiss!” jake smiled at you, kissing you like he did so long ago again, completely setting you alight and making your heart race even after all of this time.
“say it again,” jake said, his forehead against yours. you smiled. “i love you,” you replied.
you could practically feel the smile on jake’s face grow larger. “again,” he said. you giggled at him and the way he pulled you closer to his chest. “i love you, jake.”
“i love you, too.” jake kissed you again. 
you felt as if your world was back on track now, no longer was the axis all out of place. you were here in jake’s arms where you belonged, his lips against yours as the two of you giggled at each other. you would never love anyone like you love jake. “i love you more,” you finally replied to him.
jake shook his head at you. “impossible,” he laughed. “nobody can love anyone as much as i love you.”
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amoscontorta · 2 days
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Wine time with Sylus | ao3 | other stories in this 'series'
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Summary: Sylus invites himself over, helps himself to your first aid kit and your kitchen, manipulates you into tasting wine with him, discusses his latest business venture, and gifts you more than one present before he's good and ready to finally leave.
Notes: Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person pov, no use of y/n
This story contains: fluff, banter, angst, mc with obvious self esteem issues, grief, self-destructive behavior, profanity, alcohol use, criminal activity, allusions to violence, sleepy kissing, biting, inappropriate thoughts regarding kitchen tools, the mental gymnastics mc engages in to avoid acknowledging or recognizing feelings on either side should come with their own warning to be honest, one very thirsty mc whose thoughts are NSFW. This part ends with a misunderstanding that you can bet Sylus will not put up with for long.
In the days following Sylus’s latest little… visit, you’re called out more frequently than usual to counter wanderer attacks. You’re barely home, and the few times you stumble home late into the night, you peel your sweat and sometimes blood-stained hunter’s uniform off right in the entryway, promise yourself you’ll do laundry soon, and drag your aching body to the shower. Then you usually spend what little night you have left lying there with your eyes closed, carefully keeping your mind blank as sleep remains elusive. You have to admit to yourself that the few times Sylus kept you company overnight, you slept like the dead, but you refuse to go so far as admitting that you wouldn’t mind if it were more frequent. If you were to admit it to yourself, which you will not,  you only yearn for it strictly for the sake of your sleep schedule, and absolutely not because you’ve come to crave his warm, comforting bulk against your body.
Tonight is no different, but you’re both looking forward to and dreading the next few days, as Captain Jenna has ordered you to take some time off to rest and recover from the brutal schedule you’ve been keeping for months now, capped off by the recent spate of increased attacks. All of your wheedling to let you keep going, that you’re fine, that the people of Linkon need you, that you need the constant distraction, has proven useless. Apparently the frequency with which you are getting injured remains acceptable, but she is finally at the end of her patience reading your barely coherent, misspelled reports with unfinished sentences that you only manage to submit before Association mandated deadlines by the skin of your teeth.
“Go home, get your head on straight, and come back rested … and literate again, please.” She looks back down at the tablet on her desk, trying to dismiss you, but you stubbornly remain at attention at her desk.
“That’s discrimination, Captain. I can be a perfectly functional hunter without being able to read or write,” you protest, while Xavier winces behind you. “I mean, obviously I can read and write, I’m just a little tired, that’s all. Still able to destroy wanderers!”
Jenna’s already formidable expression begins to darken, but you’re not cowed. You open your mouth to helpfully point out that wanderers don’t care about how well you can spell, when you feel Xavier’s gentle hand on your arm. “Come on, why don’t we go together to get some snacks on the way home? I think they’ve started re-issuing that wasabi flavored chocolate bar we tried at the beginning of the year,” he says softly, and Jenna shoots him an appreciative look before proceeding to ignore you both.
You glumly follow Xavier out into the early evening. Rush hour is over, but the sidewalks are still bustling with life. You weave through the mass of humanity, resisting the urge to drop-kick anyone who cuts you off or brushes against you accidentally. I am a role model for the Hunter’s Association, even when I’m off the clock, I am not allowed to arrest someone for bumping into me…. I am not allowed to arrest someone for…
Xavier tries to distract you from your obvious frustration by describing the plot of the latest manga series he’s reading that he thinks you’ll like as you two make your way  home. You listen absently, feeling slightly calmed by his soothing voice, despite its graphic descriptions of violence in the manga that you are pretty sure you’re going to really like.
“Are there any hot guys in it?” you ask as the mass of people begins to thin the closer you get to your building.
“Hot… guys?” he blinks in confusion, his impossibly blue eyes flashing in the streetlamps that have just turned on.
“Yeah. Like that other one we read, Help, I, a lowly office worker, went to sleep and woke up as the Queen’s assassin in the book I fell asleep reading. The main guy in that was super hot.”
“Well, it is by the same mangaka, so you’d probably like the way they draw the main character in this one too,” he says uncertainly, but with a strange expression on his face, like he suddenly doesn’t want you to read it with him anymore.
“Okay, I’ll give it a try. Have you finished the first volume yet? Can I borrow it?”
You’ve reached your building, the trees surrounding the courtyard rustling in the soft end-of-summer breeze.
“…Great,” he says after a brief hesitation. He holds open one of the entrance's doors for you to enter the your building’s foyer. Your boots and his echo on the polished floor as you make your way into the lift. “I’ll be finished by tomorrow. How about we go the bookstore and afterwards you can come over and read since we have the day off? You can start volume one, and I’ll start volume 2. Does that sound good? We can make fancy ramen,” he says, his normally sleepy energy spiking with the idea of adding a boiled egg and some frozen vegetables to the normally plain ramen the two of you consume more often than not while on the go. Xavier’s idea of fancy has always been adorable to you.
The idea of not just sitting in your apartment alone on the first day of your forced leave is a welcome one, and you agree that he can come find you when he’s woken up, so that you don’t risk waking him up. He likes this plan, because obviously, you’re hardly sleeping at all, and he sleeps longer than you ever would have imagined possible for humans until you met him. As the elevator approaches your floor and the doors slide open, you’re about to step out when Xavier’s soft voice behind you has you turning to look back at his pretty face.
“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs, eyes searching yours. “I know you feel like you’ve lost everything right now, and that the pain seems unbearable.”
You quickly turn your head—you were not expecting this sneak attack of sympathy and kindness from him. You nod jerkily, trying not to let his warmth sink into you, or else you might start crying.
“It sounds cliché, but with time, even this pain will fade. And you have so much time ahead of you. I can promise you that. One day you’ll wake up, and it will be slightly less unbearable. That doesn’t mean you forget about what you’ve lost. But you can think of it without… without feeling like you’re destroyed again, every time.” He’s looking at you, but you also have the feeling that he’s looking at something else, from a great distance. Knowing how secretive he is, it’s unlikely you’ll ever know what it is he’s seeing.
You nod again, and whatever he sees in you profile seems to satisfy him as he offers you a soft ‘Goodnight,’ and you scurry from the lift to your front door. You tuck away his words, and push them down deep. You know they’re well intended. But you can’t handle crying right now. Not yet. Not yet. So you focus on possible plans for the days stretching ahead of you.
There is a part of you that’s looking forward to possibly being able to rest, it’s true. But the stretch of empty days, without work and battle and the social interaction of colleagues, had been filling you with anxiety before your plans with Xavier were made. But even after tomorrow, you’ll try to make the best of it. You can… try to remember what hobbies you had, before your life blew up. Maybe you can take up a new hobby! Within the span of a few days. Yeah, you can teach yourself to crochet,or make stained glass art, in a day, right? Online videos are super helpful. Maybe you’ll even deep clean your apartment, and go grocery shopping, properly, for the first time in weeks. You’ll buy vegetables that have to be prepped instead of the hottest insta-ramen you can find and slurping packets of applesauce while telling yourself that it counts as fiber, right? You can cook, and bake! You just haven’t in… a really long time. Maybe you’ll bake an entire cake, and then eat the entire cake. Yeah. You have plans, you think to yourself, pressing your fingerprint to the scanner under your flat’s door handle and pushing the door open when it beeps.
As soon as the door closes with a soft whump, you carefully hang up your blades and pistol holsters on your wall-mounted weapon rack, and then you’re furiously undoing the laces on your knee high leather boots, hopping from one foot to the other as you try to kick them off without actually having to sit down and pull them off. You yank off your socks, then shimmy out of your pants, which you also kick off unceremoniously. You’re going to be positive about this little holiday! You’re so close to being comfortable and staying that way for days. You almost rip your buttons in your haste to remove your shirt, and just as you’ve gotten the last one undone, you finally notice the dark, looming figure in the shadows at the end of your foyer.
You’re in your fucking underpants, barefoot, and your weapons are out of reach due to your current strangulation by your own shirt sleeves.
Heart racing, you throw yourself backward against the door, prepared to make a strategic retreat and escape into the building’s hallway to buy yourself some time to free yourself from your shirt, no matter the cost to your pride at being caught out in your underwear, when familiar scarlet-ink tendrils of energy gently wrap themselves around your waist and softly lift you in the air. You find yourself kicking and squirming like a kitten picked up by the scruff of its neck.
“The fuck, Sylus?” you choke out.
“Why are you still struggling, when you can clearly see that it’s me? Cease, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Why are you using your evol on me without my consent?” you retort, wriggling some more for good measure simply because he told you to stop.
“To prevent you from giving your neighbors the show of their lives without even charging admission,” he responds languidly, eyes the color of sunlight filtering through a glass of wine drifting from your probably red, sweaty face down your barely clothed body.
“Oh, they don’t get a free show, but you do?” you sneer, continuing to struggle to no effect.
“Look at yourself,” Sylus commands, and turns his head as if bored. You note absently that he’s wearing a ruby stud earring in his ear... the one that matches the earring in your own ear. So you never bothered to take it out. That doesn’t mean anything—you’re just lazy. You refuse to think about it anymore deeply than that, and then notice that Sylus not only looks bored, but also looks almost… offended? You do as he asks, and see that his evol is wrapping itself around your body in such a way that its bright-dark tendrils are covering all of your exposed, sensitive areas like a fluid robe.
“Oh,” is all you can think to say.
“Oh, indeed.” He continues to look away from you, aggressively bored, but his evol gently lowers you enough so that your bare feet rest on the ground, and then it loosens, but remains swirling around you.
“Then I’ll… just go get dressed.” You begin making your past him, but stop when you see him nonchalantly hold up a large, elegant shopping bag. It’s black, with some brand name you don’t recognize written in flowy silver script. “What is this?” You look from the bag to his face. He deigns to look at you again. Your eyes drift to his other ear, and you see that where it is pierced is empty.
“Wardrobe options,” is all he says, jerking you out of trying to puzzle out this opaque maniac’s intentions. You take the bag from him and quickly walk to your bathroom. No way you’re going to put on new clothes while feeling filthy from a long day and night of annihilating wanderers. His evol dissipates the moment your bathroom door shuts behind you.
It’s becoming a pattern. Thinking the worst of him, only to be proven wrong. But you don’t know how to overcome the cognitive dissonance of Sylus from your first meeting, and this Sylus who seems intent on taking care of you better than you take care of yourself.
You rinse off as quickly as you can in the shower, towel yourself dry, and take a peek in the bag that he gave you. The first thing you see is a black…? You lift it out of the bag, and it unfolds into a very large sweater. It’s thick, the fabric obviously of high quality. You touch it gently, running your hands along a sleeve—is it cashmere? It’s unbelievably soft. It’s probably a nightmare to wash. On impulse, you lift it to your nose, and take a deep breath.
Your suspicion is confirmed. It smells like him. This isn’t a brand new piece of clothing. This is one of Sylus’s own sweaters that he has worn before. The scent of his clean skin, the sharp tang of gunmetal, the bright burst of citrus, probably from some ridiculously expensive shampoo or body wash. The mix sends a thrill through your entire body: after only a few encounters, you already have bone-deep associations with the way Sylus smells. Fear and adrenaline, yes, but also anticipation—and bizarrely, safety. Instead of feeling terrified, you feel the way you would before riding a roller coaster. Yes, you’ll be screaming and holding on for dear life the whole ride, but you are also inexplicably convinced that in the end, you’ll have your feet firmly planted on the ground, safe again. A part of you whispers that it’s safer to avoid the roller coaster altogether—bolts come loose, wheels pull free from the track, tragic accidents happen all the time. But standing here in your humid bathroom, bone-weary from the day behind you, sniffing Sylus’s unwashed sweater makes you feel more alive than you’ve felt in a very long time.
You pull his sweater over your head, and you’re basically swimming it, it’s so big. The collar is big enough that it threatens to fall off one shoulder. But it’s so soft. And cozy. You hug yourself, and peek into the bag again. There are a few more sweaters, each dark with varying degrees of dramatic flair. This is part of Sylus’s wardrobe, after all. But there are also little sleep shorts, like the ones you were wearing the last time he invaded your home. You pick up a pair—no way would they fit on his big ass. You try, so, so, so very hard not to picture his thick cake stuffed into these tiny shorts.
You fail.
Your brain short circuits for a few seconds.
When it comes back online, you lift out a pair, and the fabric glides silkily along your skin. You’re pretty sure these are silk. They’re black, because of course, but they also have little red … happy pomegranates? Dotted along the hems. They’re adorable. You pull them on over your own bare ass and the sweater-shorts combo is probably the softest thing you’ve ever had on your body. The sweater swallows the shorts and makes it look like you’re wandering around without bottoms on.
You look at yourself in the mirror, silently telling yourself that you shouldn’t get on this particular ride. You don’t know where the track leads, and it scares you. What if it ends over a cliff, and the last thing you ever see is Sylus’s triumphant, cruel face looking down at you as you fall? There are other, less risky rides, certainly ones without wanted posters, right? Right? On second thought, you don’t even have to go the amusement park at all. You’re just fine with trying to get some fucking sleep, with continuing to hone your combat skills, with just trying to be a good person despite really liking knives and being an enthusiastic hunter.
But maybe you can just. Be friends with the roller coaster? Like, you don’t have to ride him. IT. THE ROLLER COASTER. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO RIDE THE ROLLER COASTER. You can just, watch it from a safe distance. You might indulge in little fantasies about what it’s like to ride… the roller coaster. And honestly, fantasies are almost always a hell of a lot better than the reality ever turns out to be. Not to mention! Sylus has never directly expressed any desire to ride … your roller coaster. Sure, he shows up unannounced and cares for you in ways that no one ever has, and he touches you a lot for someone who has no physical interest in you, but physical isn’t necessarily sexual, right? Maybe it’s an evol thing, and the way he touches you has to do with why you both find yourself inexplicably connected for periods of time. Like charging a battery. The point is! There will be no tickets to either ride, thank you, you aren’t open for business and he definitely does not have the proper safety inspection certificates in order, so. No.
You nod firmly to yourself in the mirror. This should be fine. You can be friends with Sylus. You don’t have to let him drag you over a cliff. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from him—he seems to be pretty competent at a lot of things that might be useful for certain aspects of your job. Like intimidating people. And exploding people with a thought and twitch of his fingers. And convincing them to do things they don’t want to do by sheer force of obnoxiousness.
Having sufficiently deluded yourself into believing that your plan of action has a chance of success, you slip out of the bathroom and find Sylus in the kitchen, next to a pretty wine glass that you certainly do not recall owning on the kitchen island.
He’s slicing strawberries with a very sharp knife that you do recall owning, because you do spend quite a lot of time sharpening the set it belongs to. They’re not kitchen knives, per se; you actually have them for work and they are really nice to throw. You already had so many knives before you moved into this place that you didn’t see the necessity of spending more money on probably inferior kitchen knives. But the large, really nice butcher block-style cutting board that he’s chopping the fruit on is not yours. And neither are the delicately arranged variety of cheeses, thinly sliced meat, and savory tarts set in puff pastry that fill up most of the cutting board. And lastly, you do not recall purchasing two bottles of what look like red wine sitting next to the wine glass, nor cleaning your kitchen so thoroughly that Zayne could probably perform surgery in here without worrying about risk of infection.
Despite your presence standing at the island before him now, he continues to serenely slice the ever-growing pile of fruit.
“Sylus?”
“Have a seat,” he says, not looking up.
“Oh, why thank you for offering such hospitality to me, in my own home,” you mutter, pulling out one of the wooden bar stools at the kitchen island. You’re about to sit down when you realize that the repetitive chop of the knife has stopped, and you look up to find Sylus frozen with the knife mid-slice in a fat strawberry. His eyes drift from your neck and exposed shoulder, down the soft expanse of sweater, to your bare legs, and then back again. You’re suddenly self-conscious—he’s the one who gave you these clothes. And now he’s staring at you like a wanderer is about to burst out of your chest.
“Did I misunderstand the assignment or something?” you ask, plopping down on the bar stool in the hopes of breaking him out of whatever weird trance he’s apparently glitching in. He swallows, flicks a final look at your shoulder, and then goes back to slicing.
“I’m simply shocked that you actually did as you were told, for once,” he responds, seemingly unruffled again. “You should also put one of the sweaters in your go bag as a backup in the event that your uniform gets destroyed, again, which it does at an alarming rate these days. The Association’s overheads for keeping you clothed must be in the stratosphere.”
“Mm, yes I’m sure you’re very concerned about the costs of doing business for the Association.” You rest your head in your hand, propped up by your elbow on the counter. The two of you sit in companionable silence for a while, with only the snick of the knife filling the space between you. The lights underneath your cabinets are on, emitting a soft warm glow from below, but you notice that he hasn’t put on the harsher, brighter overhead lights. The city’s skyline blinks serenely like an endless fleet of starships in the dark expanse of space through your windows, and a cool breeze wafts in from time to time.
Finally, Sylus is done, and he carefully rinses the knife in the sink and sets it on the counter. He turns back to you.
“No interrogation regarding why I’m here this time?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s wearing a light sweater in a deep grey, of a style quite similar to the one you’re now wearing. He looks domestic, and delicious, and you tell yourself sternly that he is friend shaped, you will not ride the Sylus roller coaster, you will not ride the Sylus roller coaster—
You have to say something. “Oh, are you missing my very effective questioning techniques? Sadly, I left my handcuffs at the office,” you lift your shoulders in a what can you do? gesture, and his eyes follow your bare shoulder again.
“Handcuffs aren’t the only means of restraint available to a truly resourceful hunter,” he says, shaking his head as if disappointed.  “Your lack of imagination is boring.”
“Okay, Sylus. But only because you’re basically begging for it: why are you here?”  You lift a puff pastry and brandish it at him like a knife. “Answer honestly, or you’ll really get it this time!” You take a big, aggressive bite as if to illustrate what he’s got coming to him in case of his non-compliance, and then moan because what the fuck, this is so good, is it goat cheese and honey? And suddenly you’re devouring it, licking your fingers clean when you’re done because you can’t get enough.
“This definitely counts as an enhanced interrogation technique.” His voice is low, and has a rough quality to it that normally isn’t there. You glance up from slobbering all over your fingers and find that he’s staring at you in what is probably disgust.
“Ha, yes, and I’ll keep subjecting you to it until you tell me what you’re doing in my home, again. And how did you even get in? I never got you a key.” You finish licking yourself like an animal and reach for a strawberry. If he’s going to play chef in your kitchen, who are you to refuse to enjoy the literal fruits of his labor? You just live here and pay the damn rent.
He holds up the index finger of his right hand, which is sporting a band-aid that you recognize as one of the same kind you have in your first-aid kit. They’re super cute, with a design of sad little cartoon mushrooms. “I was at my accountant’s, which happens to be in this neighborhood, and I got a paper cut while signing some documents.”
You pause before biting into the berry. “You… came to my flat. With extra clothing, wine, wine glasses, and various appetizers, in order to get a band-aid for your paper cut. Is this a correct summary of events?” You decide you’re not going to wait for him to answer, and take a big bite of the strawberry, feeling some juice drip down your chin. You catch it with your index finger, and then suck the juice off after you’re done chewing.
There is a long pause, and you look up to find him staring intently at your finger. You widen your eyes and wave your hand in the universal gesture of hurry the fuck up, get on with it already? He closes his eyes for a moment and breathes deeply. Apparently you’re so horrifying to witness eating that he needs to seek some zen before he can answer. It’s not your fault that he brought you half of his wardrobe and wine glasses but didn’t think to bring any napkins. “Yes, that is a correct summary of events,” is all he offers.
You look at him.
He looks back at you, occasionally flicking his gaze down to your mouth and back to your eyes. You consider baring your teeth at him just in case he wants an eyeful of the strawberry undoubtedly stuck in them, but refrain because you’re polite.
“Okay. Do you care to explain the motivation behind these events?” you ask slowly, thinking that maybe you will brandish a real knife at him to hurry up this so-called interrogation so you can straight up devour the rest of this charcuterie board that this wanted criminal has inexplicably prepared in your kitchen.
Fortunately, you don’t have to go for the knife, because he begins to speak. “There was a wine merchant that looked rather appealing on the way to your place. Since you revealed a deplorable lack of discernment when it comes to selecting a good bottle of wine the last time you hosted me, I thought I’d do my civic duty for the week and educate the less fortunate on how to choose, and enjoy, a decent bottle of wine.”
“I see.” You nod slowly. “That’s very civic-minded of you. You’re truly a model citizen. And the food?”
“It’s not wise to have a wine tasting without something to eat. Otherwise, you might find yourself making questionable decisions. We wouldn’t want that, would we, sweetie?” he seems to have recovered from his nausea at watching you wolf down food, because he says this with a playful lift of a silver eyebrow.
“Because letting a man whose baggage includes a wanted poster into my home whenever he wants could hardly be considered a good decision, and I made that one while sober,” you sigh. “I see your point.”
“Exactly. Just imagine what kind of trouble you could get into after a bottle of wine on an empty stomach?” He tilts his head to the side, and runs a middle finger slowly over his brow.
You shudder, because his big hands. You can’t pursue this line of thought.
“And the clothes?”
“Now you won’t need to borrow your partner’s clothes in case of an emergency. And I’ll have something to wear at my safe house in case you decide to assault me with beverages again.”
“That was one time. And if you don’t show up, then there’s no chance you’ll be assaulted. Therefore, no need for a change of clothes. And, pardon me, but your safe house? I think you meant, my flat. But what you’re telling me is that the whole reason you were coming to my flat in the first place was to put a band-aid on your boo-boo.”
He lowers his hand and begins running his thumb along his lower lip. “Even a small cut can turn life-threatening if not treated properly. And I wouldn’t want a scar, now would I? It’s not much of a safe house if I can’t make use of it when in danger of lasting bodily harm.”
“Mmm yes, what with your evol that renders scarring impossible for you, we wouldn’t want your paper cut to cause you lasting bodily harm. And you couldn’t acquire a band-aid at a pharmacy, perhaps like at the one next to the wine merchant I’m pretty sure you’re referring to?” You refuse to look at his big thumb pressing into his thick, soft-looking lower lip. You stare up at the ceiling, and consider cataloguing wanderers in your head to stem the sudden urge to vault over the island counter separating him from you and pulling that damn thumb into your own mouth.
“They didn’t have a box containing such cute little designs. I never knew I wanted anthropomorphized fungus to decorate a bandage intended to protect an open wound until I saw your own box.”
It takes you a second to remember what the hell the two of your were discussing when you realize he’s talking about your adorable little mushroom band-aids.
“A wine snob, and a band-aid snob.”
“I prefer the term cultured, but yes, I’ve told you before. Life is too short to waste on the inferior. Your sad little champignons surpass all others.”
He’s done it again. He has hardly even moved this entire time, and has managed to exhaust you to the point of blissful indifference. He shows up unannounced, rifles through your first aid kit, decides what you’re going to wear both this evening and in the future when you need a spare change of clothes, and has prepared an hors d’oeuvre spread worthy of at least a mid-ranged restaurant for you to eat while offering you a wine tasting? Fine. “Okay,” you say, reaching for another one of those puff pastries.
He watches you steadily for a few moments, as if trying to sense a trap. “That’s it?”
You shrug. “Sure. I told you that you could use my house if you needed it. I’ve just learned my lesson: next time I’ll be very careful in drafting the conditions of any deal we make, since your interpretation of certain terms appears to vary wildly from any reasonable person’s.”
“I think I’m quite reasonable,” he examines his nails. “I come bearing gifts, and this is how you show your gratitude? By insinuating that I'm unreasonable?”
Another thought occurs to you. “How did you even get in, Sylus?”
“Ah,” he says, squinting and looking out the window, as if contemplating a very deep philosophical question. “While you were sleeping last time… I took the liberty of adding my fingerprint to your door’s fingerprint scanner.”
What. The. Fuck. “What. The. Fuck.”
“Again, it’s not much of a safe house if I can’t access it without your presence. I didn’t think you’d mind. It’s not like I can’t just use my evol to teleport into your place anyway, but I thought you’d appreciate me coming through the front door. Fewer feathers. You didn’t seem to like cleaning those up the last time I teleported out of your place.”
You just stare at him. How would he even know that you cursed him, loudly, as you were mopping up the mess of blood and feathers he generously left in your entryway after being shot? And then it comes to you. Mephisto. Of course. You pinch the bridge of your nose, and visualize violently shaking that bird until his circuits are rewired.
Sylus continues, ignoring your mounting rage. “Come to think of it, we should probably upgrade your locks, kitten. It was laughably easy to override the system and add my print as authorized for entry.”
Forget riding the Sylus coaster—you think that maybe he isn’t even friend shaped after all. He might just have slid right back to enemy shaped. Frenemy shaped? Where does a frenemy lie on the spectrum of “fuck his brains out” to “polite, but distant acquaintances?” But then you remember that it’s not a linear spectrum, and fucking his brains out is not mutually exclusively to being mortal enemies. You’ve read enough enemies-to-lovers romances to know that perfectly well, so even if he is enemy shaped… you shudder. Why are you like this? You redirect your self-disgust and deflect, like a true emotionally well-adjusted adult:
“Why can’t you be normal? Like, do you do anything like a normal person?”
“Why would I pretend to be normal when I’m so obviously extraordinary?” he scoffs, looking at you like you’re the unhinged one in this little situationship.
 “Sylus.”
“Yes, my heart’s delight?”
You stare at him, and he gazes back at you, leaning leisurely back against your counter, arms folded and long fingers slowly tapping out a rhythm on one bulky bicep. You know that if you remove his authorization on your locks that he will just teleport himself right into your place, and you’ll be endlessly cleaning up feathers. And you also really don’t want your neighbors to wonder who the hell the creep is loitering around your door at all hours of the night and then start asking questions if he actually honors your request not to simply appear in your place on a whim. You did previously offer him a key. Which he declined. Apparently because he was already planning this. You run your hand along the back of your neck in an effort to relieve some tension. “You can’t just let yourself into my place anytime you want. There need to be rules.”
“Fair enough. Provided that they’re not moronic, I can follow your rules.”
“And who decides whether they’re moronic or not?” you ask, knowing the answer.
He just smiles at you, radiating satisfaction.
“Okay. Rule number one—” you begin, only to be interrupted as he lifts a finger.
“I’ll follow your rules, if you promise to taste the wine I brought with me tonight.”
Even though you had already resigned yourself to whatever he had in store for you tonight, you can’t help arguing at this little added condition. “No, the deal is, you can use my flat, with your fingerprint, when you need it, if you follow the rules,” you huff.
He starts shaking his head. “I’m afraid not, kitten. You should have set rules at the beginning of our deal. You can’t just impose new conditions halfway through. A deal’s a deal. I suggest keeping that in mind the next time you have to deal with anyone else less… generous, than myself,” he intones, as if you’re a somewhat lacking student in need of instruction.
“So you’ll follow the rules if I promise to… taste wine tonight?” you ask, hoping that you can catch him out on a technicality and beat him at his own game. He considers for a moment, but must see something in your expression, because his eyes narrow and his smile widens to reveal his sharp canines.
“I’ll follow your reasonable, and not moronic, rules if you promise to taste the wine I brought tonight, with me,” he says.
You need to work on your poker face. You need to get Sylus to teach you how to improve it. Ugh.
“Fine.” If this means more food can happen soon, and honestly, yeah, a glass of wine, you’ll accept anything at this point.
He straightens from the counter and claps his hands once, looking more eager than you think you’ve ever seen him. “Excellent, let’s begin.”
“You didn’t even wait to hear what the rules are,” you protest, watching him fish out a wine corkscrew from his trouser pocket. It looks heavy, with a handsome wooden handle, and the stainless steel flashes under the soft lights.
“Send them in a text, I’ll redline them and return them to you, you can counter, and so on and so forth until we have an agreement. Like any proper contract negotiation. For now, it’s wine time.”
And with that, he sets to work opening the wine, humming a little tune so off-key that you have no idea what melody it’s supposed to be. It occurs to you that you’ve never used a corkscrew as a weapon, but as Sylus uses the small blade to slice through the foil covering the neck of the bottle, and then unfolds the lethal-looking twisted screw and begins expertly driving it into the cork, you realize that it could come in really handy in a fight. And there’s something else that’s really appealing to you—the combination of the contained savagery of the corkscrew, the assured movements of Sylus’s hands, the penetration of the cork—you feel a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the sweater you’re wearing.
“See something you like, kitten?” Sylus’s smoky voice drifts into your thoughts, and you look up, realizing you’ve been unabashedly staring at his beautiful hands, again, and the corkscrew, with undivided focus for the past few moments, and he has noticed.
You clear your throat, and then gesture weakly at the corkscrew. “That’s uh, a very nice looking wine opener.” You nod to emphasize your very normal approval of this very normal household item, because you are not thinking any thoughts about Sylus’s huge hands or screwing or penetration. None.
“Good eye. I’m rather fond of this model. I’ll have one delivered to you,” he says as he firmly pulls the cork from the bottle with a soft pop. He sets it on the counter, and picks up the other bottle.
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I’m sure it didn’t escape your notice that the kind of wine I drink tends to come with a screw cap instead of a cork,” you decline, shaking your head. You can buy your own damn self a corkscrew for tucking into your pocket if you ever find yourself at a wine bar that doesn’t allow patrons to be armed, but you anticipate needing some kind of weapon.
“Refuse me all you want,” he murmurs, and you feel like there’s an implied part of that sentence that he’s just not saying out loud. But then he’s repeating the opening process with the second bottle, and you suddenly find the night view outside your window immensely fascinating, because whatever is continuing to happen in front of you is just. Boring. Utterly sleep-inducing. You can’t look or else you might just pass out from the tedium of it before you even get to taste the wine. And a deal’s a deal, as Sylus is fond of repeating ad nauseum.
After hearing the soft pop of the other bottle, you sigh and turn back to find Sylus holding the wine glass and pouring the first bottle’s wine along the inside of the glass until it reaches the widest part of the bowl. For the first time, you notice that there’s only one glass on the counter. But before you can comment, Sylus begins to lecture.
“Now, if this were an ideal tasting, I’d have brought a decanter to let the wine breathe properly for an appropriate period of time before pouring. We'd also be using a container for spitting each mouthful out in between tastes, to avoid the intoxication and poor decisions I mentioned earlier and interfering with our judge of taste. But since we only have two bottles to try, and it’s just you and me here, I took the gamble that you wouldn’t mind if we were a little less formal.”  
You wait to see if he has any other fun facts to share, but he’s looking at you to confirm that indeed, you can live with not waiting even longer to taste this wine that better have gold leaf flakes in it or something to justify this amount of ceremony and can also live with not… spitting out said wonder wine after tasting it.
But you recognize that Sylus appears to be truly passionate about this, and he’s looking at you so earnestly—you do not have the heart to meet his sincerity with sarcasm, when he's so sweetly trying to teach you something new.
“Your gamble paid off. I don’t mind at all,”  you say, meaning it. He perks up and gives you one of his almost smiles, with just the corners of his generous mouth lifted. He then proceeds to explain, in great detail, what type of wine this is, where the grapes for it are grown, its signature characteristics, what year it was bottled, and how it was received by the international wine community. It’s all actually quite interesting, except once again, right now you’re at the end of a long day, you’ve run the gauntlet of interacting with this unpredictable force of nature walking around in the body of an extremely attractive man, and you feel like you should be taking notes to actually retain any of this information.
After he seems to have informed you to his satisfaction and is looking at you expectantly, you nod. “That is… very fascinating. So how do we go about actually tasting it?” You might be an uncultured heathen, but even before Sylus’s lecture, you knew there are rules when it comes to tasting wine. You just always had other things you needed to learn first, like the weakest spots on a wanderer or human body. Or the best method of sharpening knives for the sharpest edge. Or how to clean guns to prevent jamming. How to affix a scope on a sniper rifle and measure the effect of wind speed and direction on a bullet’s trajectory. Or whether you should use baking soda or baking powder as leavener when baking certain kinds of cake. You have priorities. But tonight, it seems, is the night for you to learn about wine.
Before he answers, he moves around the kitchen island to where you’re still seated on the bar stool and leans down, gently spinning your stool so that you’re facing him instead of the counter. He then pushes the one next to you closer and seats himself. Even sitting, you have to look up into his face. You suddenly realize that the way he has positioned the stools puts him so close to you that his long legs don’t have anywhere to go—he just spreads them so that one is stretched out on one side of you, and the other is between your own, his knee incredibly close to your lap. If you shift forward even a little, you could grind on him.
Why is he doing this to you? What does he want? But then it occurs to you that Sylus has never seemed to either recognize or respect boundaries like a normal person—maybe this is just how he interacts with his friends. Constant, small touches, no sense of personal space. You wonder if he and the twins huddle together on the couch, sharing a blanket, while watching something on television.
So maybe you’re the freak, imagining riding this poor guy’s meaty thigh when he’s only just trying to share his appreciation of a sophisticated beverage with you. You close your eyes. It doesn’t matter whether he’s playing this little game on purpose or not. You refuse to let him see how much his proximity is affecting you, because then he wins. You don’t know what he wins exactly, but you will beat him before you let him have it. You try to think about his big hand choking you, but instead of having the intended effect of reminding you why you should never even consider buying tickets to the safety hazard now wedged between your thighs, it has … unforeseen consequences instead. What has this man done to you?!
You open your eyes, reach across the counter and grab a handful of carefully cut pieces of cheese, and then promptly stuff them all into your mouth at once. When in crisis, cheese is always a good solution. Except for maybe the blue cheese you accidentally mixed in with the Manchego or whatever-the-fancy-fuck he brought with him. Aaaand now you’re going to smell like blue cheese for the rest of the night.
You stare at him defiantly as you chew with puffed cheeks, and brace yourself for whatever is coming next. He side eyes you, face impassive.
You’re expecting some biting comment, but “Well, that’s one way to make sure you’ve eaten enough to absorb the alcohol,” is all he says. He slowly slides the glass with two fingers along the base across the counter until it’s sitting between the two of you. “Whenever you manage to finish inhaling all that dairy, we’ll be sure that we’ve given the wine enough time to breathe.” He pauses. “It occurs to me now that while I was preparing the food, I didn’t think to ask if you’re lactose intolerant.”
You deliberately chew as slowly as you can, making him wait as a punishment for making you feel things that you should not be feeling. When you’ve swallowed, you shake your head. “Fortunately, not one of my many flaws.”
“It’s not a flaw.” He shrugs. “How can anything you can’t control about your body be a flaw? And Luke and Kieran are lactose intolerant, so I always have lactase enzyme tablets on me to avoid… unwanted consequences when they decide to have a cheese tasting contest.”
You cock your head. “A what now?”
 He rubs his middle finger between his eyebrows. “Yeah, they can’t help themselves from making a competition out of every single human activity, so on the nights the chef prepares a cheese board with dinner, they try to outmatch each other regarding who can identify the most flavors of cheeses without cheating by asking the chef or querying Mephisto or searching online. Or asking me, because I’m undefeated.”
You stare at him, and think if there’s ever any universe in which you voluntarily return to the base where Sylus kept you captive for days and touched you like he owned you, hand violently clasped in his, where you were terrified for your life, exhausted and confused… and if you ever have a friendly enough relationship with the chaos twins, you’re going to practice your ass off so that if you’re ever invited to such a competition, you can wipe the floor with them. Their cheese-off sounds fun.
Your train of thought is derailed as it registers how smug the last thing he said was. “You’re undefeated,” you repeat, giving him a chance to redeem himself. “At identifying cheeses by taste.”
“And smell, yes. So I’m not allowed to play anymore. My palate is too refined, and they know they don’t stand a chance.”
Oh, you’re definitely going to start sampling cheese every week. You cannot let this smugness stand.
“Ah yes, his royal snobness and his impeachable palate,” you roll your eyes. “Now, will his grace the Duke of Gouda please get on with the wine instruction?” You would give him a little mock bow, but that would put your face right in his formidable cleavage and you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from motorboating his unfairly huge pecs. Ugh.
He snorts. “Finally, you’re showing me some long-overdue respect.”
You nod gravely, thankful that the aether core in his eye is not currently delving the depths of your depravity. It’s time to focus. On wine.
“So why do you have to let wine breathe before drinking it?” you ask, because you’re focused.
He looks pleased that you’re interested enough to ask a question. “Much like people, it’s good to expose a greater surface area of the wine to fresh air for a while—it allows undesirable scents and flavors to dissipate, so that it tastes better when you do take a sip than if you drink it straight after opening.”
“Well aren’t you wise, philosophizing about wine and people,” you smile. You find yourself being surprised again and again tonight—at his presence, his bearing gifts, his surprisingly sweet attempt to teach you something, his kind takes on lactose intolerance and what people need to be healthy.
“Did you think I only consist of feathers and spite?” He lifts the wine glass by the stem with one hand, and your hand in his other. He gently wraps your fingers around his own.
“Let’s not forget hubris and violence.” You watch as he gently swirls the wine in the glass held between you. His hand is so warm compared to your own.
“If that’s all, then you still have a lot to learn about me,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t seem offended. Almost as if he’s simply determined. To do what, you’re not sure. “I’d tell you that you should always hold a wine glass by the stem so that the heat from your hand doesn’t affect the temperature of the wine through the glass itself. But your hands are so cold—I don’t think that would be a problem for you. But if you want people to think you’re a connoisseur, you should anyway if you’re ever on an undercover mission. Now, before you take a sip, inhale the scent we’ve just released by swirling the wine.”
You do as you’re told, and lean over, hovering just over the edge of the glass and taking a deep breath. The scent of the wine, warm and deep, fills your senses.
You look up at him and smile again. “It smells really good.”
“Of course,” he lifts the bottom of the glass with his free hand so that you can straighten, and guides your other hand to support the glass while slipping his own from around the stem and allowing you to hold it by yourself. Your hand immediately feels cold again. He leans one elbow on the counter, “I chose it for you. I’m not going to let you drink plonk.”
“Plonk?” What a cute word.
“Shit wine.”
“Mmm, not allowing me to drink shit wine, you’re truly a knight in shining armor.”
“I don’t need armor, kitten. Now that you’ve established that the wine hasn’t gone off by smelling it, you can take a sip.”
You’re about to lift the glass to your lips, when he reaches up and runs his fingertips along your wrist to stop you. “As you do, don’t swallow immediately. Roll the wine with your tongue in your mouth, and try to really think about what flavors you can taste: can you detect the oak from the barrels, earth, tannin, fruit or spices? Is it sweet or dry?”
You nod, mouth suddenly dry. But you follow his instructions and take a slow sip, rolling the rich liquid around in your mouth, and then slowly swallow. A familiar warmth spreads from your stomach, radiating out through your body. His blood bright eyes follow the movement of your lips, your throat. “I taste… fruit.” You pause, trying to appear very serious about finding the perfect description of flavor. You take another sip, close your eyes. “Yes, very fruity notes. Grapes, in particular.”
You open your eyes to find him scowling at you.
“Aren’t you the comedian?” he growls. “I’m going to revoke your wine privileges if you don’t take this seriously. How are you going to feel confident if you ever need this knowledge on a mission? Or on a date?”
You just laugh at him and try to turn a little on the stool, lifting your arm to keep the glass out of his reach, but his knee between your legs prevents you from moving, and he easily leans forward, fingers drifting up the length of your arm to then wrap around your own hand on the stem. He carefully pulls it back between the two of you. Your hand feels warm again. Safely wrapped in his.
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned my needing to know how to pass as a wine snob on a mission. What kind of missions do you think I’m regularly going on?” You gently lift the glass again, pulling his hand with you, and take another sip. It really does taste so good. You can’t tell if it’s wildly different than the wine you normally get, but you know it doesn’t taste like it’ll leave you with a headache in the morning.
He shrugs. “If we didn’t have to bring the place down when we were at the auction, people would have been watching you at the dinner banquet. What would you have done if people started to notice that you were clutching the wine and swigging it like a drunken toddler and started to suspect that your behavior wasn't matching your cover identity?”
You gasp. “Excuse me, you don’t know how I normally drink my wine!” Who does this bastard think he is? And here you were, thinking he was sweet, sincerely trying to share one of his interests with you. “I don’t need you patronizing me regarding how I’d manage at a formal event or on a date! I’ve been on plenty of dates where I was able to drink wine without driving off my partner.” You try to pull away from him, and the wine sloshes dangerously with your movement.
“Sit still,” he commands, holding your hand tight with his and placing one large palm on your bare thigh. You immediately freeze. “I watched you gulp wine from a mug the last time I was here,” he retorts.
“So you think that just because I don’t care what you think, I can’t read the room and act according to the demands of the situation?” The indignation coursing through you is amplified by the wine spreading through you.
“Then is it fair to say that you didn’t feel the need for any pretense between us last time because you’re so comfortable with me, and not because you’re as civilized as a cactus?” he asks, running his thumb gently back and forth along your inner thigh.
Your brain is being scrambled by his thumb, how close he is to you, his clavicle exposed by the V of his sweater’s neckline, the scent of his warm, clean skin, the wine going to your head after a long exhausting day.
“I’m saying I don’t feel the need to impress you in my own home when you show up uninvited and demand beverages and band aids,” you finally manage. You’re warm. Too warm. “And what’s wrong with being a cactus?”
“Did I say there was something wrong with it? Cacti can survive the harshest conditions on earth and still produce the most beautiful flowers. And they hurt when they stab you.” He smiles like the thought pleases him immensely.
You can’t process this. He says shit like this so easily—he can’t possibly mean it in the way you are trying so hard to deny that you want him to mean it. You refuse to be lured in, only to see the cruel lines of his face when he realizes you have pathetic feelings for him. The man who could as easily rip your spine from your ribcage as offer you a glass of wine, if you lose your usefulness to him. A usefulness you still don’t know the nature of.
You’re suddenly viciously aware of how close he is to you, how he is watching your face with an intensity that makes you feel like the use of his aether core is unnecessary: you’re afraid that he can see everything you’re feeling, and you hate it. You need space. “What are we even doing, Sylus?”
His eyes drift from your eyes to your mouth, and you try very hard to steel your expression, to conceal how utterly raw and exposed he’s making you feel. You can’t tell if you’re successful, when he finally lifts his hand from your thigh and runs the back of his knuckles with such softness along your cheek that it makes you ache. You resist the urge to turn your face and nuzzle his palm.
“We’re tasting wine, sweetheart.” He leans back, pulling the glass of wine you’re still holding with him. He inhales deeply, and then takes a sip, eyes glittering over the rim, watching you. “It is a good vintage. But it’s not the only one I brought.” He guides your joined hands to set the glass on the counter, and then gets up, rounding the counter to rummage in a bag on the floor on the other side. When he stands up, he’s holding another wine glass.
You do a double take. “You brought two glasses?”
He looks from you to the glass in his hand, then back to the glass still on the counter, and then lifts his eyebrows. “Is this a trick question?”
“Why haven’t we been drinking about of separate glasses then?” you demand.
He shrugs. “That glass is for that bottle,” he nods to the glass sitting next to you. “This glass is for this bottle.” He gestures at the other, untasted bottle sitting on the counter. “No need to rinse our glasses in between tastes.”
You want to laugh, and cry. You’re so fucking done with thinking for tonight.
“Okay, Sylus. Whatever you say,” you sigh.
“Oh, I quite like the sound of that,” he smiles, one canine peeking over his lip. “Then you’re going to enjoy the sorbet I brought for us as a palate cleanser.”
He proceeds to go to your freezer, scoop out some of the aforementioned sorbet that has apparently been in there all evening into a bowl, and takes the stool next to you again. This time, he situates one long leg on either side of you, caging you in. He takes a spoonful and offers it to you. “This will help rinse your palate so that you can taste the next bottle without any lingering effects of the other.”
You look from his seemingly guileless face to the spoonful of sorbet. Yup, you’re really done thinking for tonight. You lean forward and open your lips. He slips the lemon sorbet into your mouth. His eyes remain on your lips as he pulls the spoon away, dips it back into the sorbet, and brings it to his own mouth.
After he continues to trade spoonfuls with you until the sorbet is gone, he pours the second glass of wine, and you both take turns sipping it in companionable silence.
“Now tell me. Which one is your favorite?” he asks after you’ve finished the second glass, and return to the first to finish it as well.
“I like them both,” you shrug. “Sorry for not having a more sophisticated answer.” You’re feeling drowsy and loose. He can walk off a tall building for all you care if he doesn’t like your answer.
“They’re both excellent wines. Each one is suited for multiple situations or meal combinations. They’re versatile, just like you are. And I don’t require any particular answer, except your honest one. I think you already know that you don’t need to put on an act for me, ever.”
You rest your elbow on the counter, mirroring his position, and rest your head in your hand. “Why would I pretend with you, if you can just force the truth out of me?”
“I will never do that to you.”
You look away. “You’ve already done it to me once before. What else is there to hide, when you’ve seen the ugliest parts of me?”
“I will not do it again. Not unless you ask me to,” he says so solemnly that you’re tempted to be a fool and believe him. “And is that what you think? That what I saw was ugly?”
You sit up, take the glass from him and knock back the rest of the wine in one gulp. You can't do this right now. You can't think about the the violent hunger, the savage thirst, that his eye brought from the depths of your soul when he forced his way into your deepest, darkest desires the night you met. The extent of how much you wanted to kill him, and make it hurt, when you thought he had killed Caleb and your grandmother. How you still feel that hunger and rage, with every wanderer you kill, every time you hope some dealer in modified protocores resists arrest so you can put them down, with prejudice.
“I’m tired, Sylus. Thank you for the lesson. Now I can successfully fool rich assholes at upscale dens of corruption and unsuspecting dates into believing that I’m a sophisticated connoisseur of overpriced beverages, and swindle them all. And I’ll never horrify you again by swigging wine out of a mug like a drunken toddler. You should invoice the Association for your services. In the meantime, I’m going to try to get some sleep.”
“I see. You’re still on guard, and defensive, when you're drunk too. How fascinating.” He narrows his eyes, not seeming to get the hint that you want him to leave now.
“I’m not drunk. I’m maybe tipsy, and I’m fucking tired. I’m going to bed.”
“All right,” he says easily. He stands and begins tidying up the counter.
“All right,” you repeat, feeling a little dizzy, a little empty. “You know where the door is.”
“As you say,” he says serenely, pulling out food storage containers you also didn’t realize you own and packing the food away.
“Thanks again,” you say, because you are polite, dammit. You make your way into the bathroom and begin getting ready for bed. When you emerge, your flat is dark. The kitchen looks pristine in the streetlight drifting in through the windows. You stare for a moment longer, wondering if maybe he’s finally given up on whatever his agenda with you is after your little emotional display tonight, and he’ll stop coming by now. You’re fine with that. Maybe this is what you’ve needed to do all along. Get drunk and sloppy. Guarded, defensive, he called you. What an asshole.
You pad into the bedroom, yawning, pulling up your phone to look at it as you walk. Maybe you should try listening to audiobooks to try to help with the insomnia. Like, boring ones with deep, sexy voiced narrators who can bore you to sleep like Sylus did the other night. You crawl onto the bed, and then—
“The fuck, Sylus?”
He’s sitting in the middle of your bed, sweater off and replaced by… nothing. Just the expanse of his big, creamy chest. And he’s wearing a pair of silky looking loose, black pyjama pants. An impossibly soft looking line of silver hair drifts from his tight navel, disappearing under his waistband. His gold-rimmed glasses are perched on his nose, like last time, and he’s scrolling through something on his tablet. He glances up at you, but then goes back to his… spreadsheets?
“Haven’t we already been through that little routine tonight?” he asks, and yawns. “I’m getting déjà vu.”
“What. Are. You. Doing?” you seethe.
“Going over the financials from the meeting with my accountant today.”
“Why?” You just sit there on your knees, on your bed, gaping at him like an idiot.
“To ensure that my next acquisition is suited to purpose.”
“What?”
His gaze flicks to you, and he pushes the glasses further up his nose. “Well, I made a promise that I wouldn’t change a thing about my latest business venture, so now I need to ensure that the next chain of businesses I acquire can serve one of the functions I had intended for the arcades.”
“What function is that?” you ask, curious now, despite yourself.
“Well, one of two primary functions,” he amends, tapping his temple thoughtfully with a finger.
“Okay,” you say slowly, inviting him to continue.
“Money laundering.”
You shake your head. “Come again?”
“Oh, I’ll be happy to. Thank you for the invitation. I wasn’t sure I’d ever receive one again, what with your heavily implied dismissal earlier.”
“Sylus!”
“Yes, my most precious gem?”
“What do you mean you intended to use the arcades for money laundering?” You want to cry even thinking about it.
“To be fair, after you asked me so sweetly not to change a thing, I immediately agreed. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“But that’s why you wanted to buy them?” How many times can a heart hurt in one night?
“I said that was one of the two primary reasons I wanted those arcades,” he says, reaching out with one hand and softly stroking your knee.
You look down, watching his calloused fingers drifting so sweetly across your skin. How can this man be so cruel and so gentle at the same time?
“What was the other reason, then?”
“Guess.”
“I’m done playing games with you tonight, Sylus.”
“When was I playing a game tonight?”
“Fine, don’t tell me. Just promise again that you won’t change anything about my favorite arcade.”
He sets the tablet on his lap, and reaches over to grasp your hand. He links your pinkie with his, and lifts it to his lips. “I already promised. And I promise again.” He seals the promise with a brush of his lips, and then rests both of your hands on the bed between you.
You don’t know why, and you will probably never know why, but you believe him right now. It’s clear that no matter what you do, he will not be leaving tonight without great violence on your part, and once again, you’re just too tired to fight him anymore. He reads your body like a damn book, because he silently hands you the glass of water that was sitting next to him on the nightstand. "Even if you're not drunk, but only maybe just a little tipsy," he says, doing an awful imitation of your voice. "You should still drink some water so you don't feel terrible in the morning."
Perhaps because of your easy compliance with his reasonable advice by simply taking the water and drinking it, he seems to deem it safe to pull you into his side. You go down, resting your head on his thick shoulder, and let your gaze wander over his tablet.
“So what are you thinking of buying this time?” you ask, yawning.
 He shifts, lifting your head so that he can wrap his arm around you, repositioning you so that you’re tucked a little closer under his chin, cheek resting against his chest. “A chain of casinos.”
“Casinos?” you laugh softly. “That’s on brand, I guess.”
“Mmhmm.” He runs his fingertips absently along your arm, from wrist to elbow and back again. “Lots of money changing hands. Ideal for functioning as a washing machine for the dirty proceeds from the weapons business, which comes out clean in the pockets of lucky winners.”
“You make your living profiting off the worst in people, you know that?” you ask sleepily, the numbers on the screen blurring.
“They’ll continue being terrible, with or without my involvement. I don’t make them take the bet, or pull the trigger. And if I don't, someone else will put the chip or gun in their hands. Might as well be me collecting the paycheck.”
“Maybe, through the power of friendship, I can change your mind,” you murmur. You don’t think you’ll need that audiobook to fall asleep tonight.
“Friendship, huh?” Sylus asks, but when he looks down at you, he sees that you’ve already fallen asleep. He traces the long sweep of your eyelashes across your cheeks with his eyes, feels your measured, calm breath drifting across his skin. He gently touches one finger to the ruby earring you haven’t taken out yet. The thrill of satisfaction he felt when you answered the door still wearing it would sustain him for weeks. He is absolutely certain that it won’t be the power of friendship that’s going to change him.
He pulls you a little closer into his chest, snorts when he feels you begin to drool onto his pec, and continues scrolling through his tablet.
That night, you dream. You’re walking through your childhood home—but not your childhood home from before your memories, because you will never know what that home looked like. This one, the home from your earliest memories, with its wood panelling on the walls, old-fashioned lace curtains in the windows that you can’t see out of, because it’s pitch black beyond the glass. Hallways lengthening at the same pace as you can walk down them, boots echoing on the polished hardwood floor. You walk and walk, and you can never reach the end. Doors that won’t open, but you know Caleb might be behind them, because in your dream logic, his bedroom is behind every door you pass. You turn the handles, but they remain locked. Sometimes you think you can hear the sound of someone biting into an apple, crisp flesh giving way to sharp teeth, but the door won’t open no matter how hard you throw yourself against it. You hear your grandmother speaking, just around every corner, but you can’t understand what she’s saying. You follow the sound, and every time you think that she’s just around the next turn in the hall, the corridor stretches in front of you again, empty.
You have been in this empty house for years now, and you’re afraid that you’ll never be able to get out. But you’re more afraid that once you get out, you’ll never hear them making these particular sounds again, this slim proof of their existence echoing through the empty hallways.
Slowly, you wake up, and in that endless moment caught between your dream and reality, it’s just peaceful and black—you are coming from somewhere so far away toward something you know will hurt, and you’re not ready to feel that yet. But then a feeling of suffocation is overwhelming you, and you open your eyes to realize you’re literally being smothered by a very big, very warm body.
The relief you feel, the gratitude, that Sylus is still here, that you aren’t waking up alone, again, from the nightmare in your sleep to the reality that the nightmare is real, and you’ll never be able to see your family again, is more overwhelming than your current need for oxygen. Sylus is still here, and the yawning emptiness you were carrying with you for what felt like years during that long dream dissipates in the warmth of his body against yours. You can’t help yourself. Your throw your arm that isn’t being crushed by him over his torso and hug him tightly to you, giving in to the urge to nuzzle his chest and just listen to his steady heartbeat.
You lie like that for awhile, blissfully listening to his soft breathing, when suddenly you realize that pressed so close to him, you can feel every contour of his body, from your chest against his abdomen, his muscular, silk-covered thigh wedged between your legs, and his apparently very, very big dick pressing into your hip.
You freeze, feeling like the creep you have accused him several times of being. He’s just sleeping, and you’ve plastered yourself against him like a vacuum sealed burrito. You have absolutely no business being utterly thrilled that this part of him matches the rest of him in terms of size and intimidation. You will not be taking this joy stick for a test drive. You can get out of this. You’re a very good hunter, and you can evade detection and make a tactical retreat when necessary. And it’s very necessary right now, because you do not want him to wake up and find you attached to him like a love-sick leech.
Slowly, sooo slowly, you slide your arm from where it is slung over his waist, and begin to incrementally scooch backwards, his leg slipping from between both of yours, freezing when he seems to shift a little, and then continuing the slow slide away when he settles again.
You’ve managed to extricate all of your limbs from him, except the one that is currently numb and squashed underneath him. You slowly roll onto your back and contemplate how you’re going to get it out from under him without waking him, when suddenly his arm flops over your waist. You jerk in surprise, eyes flying to his face, but his are still closed. His hand slides from your waist to your hip, and then snakes around to take a big handful of your ass. He makes a little happy noise and then pulls your body into his again. In the process, he has managed to jam his thigh back between your legs. You stare at his face, trying desperately to see if he’s starting to wake yet—how did you even end up in this situation? Then he pulls you even closer, causing his thigh to press deliciously against you. You suppress a whine, because it has been so long since someone has touched you liked this. But of course the person who is touching you is a maniac and is doing so while still asleep. You reach up and pat his cheek to wake him up, simultaneously trying to to pull away from him, but tightens his arms around you again, dipping his head to your shoulder still exposed by his too-big sweater.  You freeze in shock as he inhales deeply and hums, and soft kisses trail from your neck down, and before you can push him away he bites into the meat of your shoulder. The pain, pressure, and warmth of his mouth on your skin have you trying to arch away and into him—you do whine this time, loudly, because it hurts but you want.
Suddenly, his whole body seems to tense. The pressure on your shoulder eases, and he sighs, his breath cool drifting along your over-heated skin.
“Good morning.”
You open your eyes, realizing you’d been squeezing them shut through the last few moments, and meet his sleepy gaze.
"Were you awake?” you demand, terrified of the answer. Because if he was, then what the hell was he thinking, pretending to be asleep? And if he wasn't, was he just dreaming? Was it you in his dream, or was he dreaming of someone else? You don't want to know. You have to know.
“Your rather loud response to my love bite woke me up, I think,” he smiles softly. "I didn't realize that I was... dreaming until then."
“So you didn’t mean to—” you start to pull away.
He tightens his arm around your waist. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Sylus, let go. I’m sorry for not waking you fast enough. I was just—I was just shocked. I know you wouldn’t have done that otherwise.” You struggle, but his arm is a steel bar holding you in place.
“You’re right, I wouldn’t have,” he agrees, and you feel whatever fragile, tender root that had been growing in the cracks of your broken heart wither, the dry husk drifting away in an autumn breeze. Replacing that faint feeling of hope, you're livid that you do not share the same teleportation ability that Xavier and Sylus have. If you could, you'd teleport in a poof of glittering light or melodramatic feathers. To anywhere else but here.
You nod, and nod, and nod, because he’s not letting you move but you have to do something or else he’ll see it right on your stupid, open face, and you’d rather he slit your throat than see the pain his rejection is inflicting on you. You had lied to him earlier, about not having anything to hide, about always being honest with him. You've been lying to yourself, and to him, ever since you met him.
“What I mean—” he’s looking at you intently, and you want to cover his eyes with your hands, because as always they’re seeing too much, but suddenly, the doorbell rings through your flat.
You both turn your heads to look at the bedroom door at the same time.
Oh. Fuck.
Xavier.
Sylus turns to look back at you, so close that his nose brushes yours. “Expecting company, kitten?”
“It’s Xavier. Shit.” You try to roll away, and this time he lets you. You grab your phone off the nightstand and see that Xavier has already texted you a few times to see if you’re ready to head to the bookstore yet. The texts grow increasingly concerned the longer you don’t respond. The doorbell rings again. “You have to go. Now.”
You turn to Sylus, who is now lying leisurely on his side, head propped up in his hand, silky silver hair cascading across his forehead, occupying the bed like an imperialist force annexing a weaker neighbor’s territory, with no intention of leaving.
“And what are you going to do?” he asks, eyes drifting from your face, to your shoulder, down to your bare legs.
“I need to answer the door and tell Xavier that I’m running late.”
“Late for what?”
“Sylus, I don’t have time for this. You can’t be here. Xavier helped me get into the N109 zone, he spends a lot of time there—he’s smart enough that if he finds out what you look like, he might eventually be able to figure out who you are. You can’t be here,” you repeat, starting to panic. Sylus may not have any feelings for you beyond friendship or a predator toying with its food, but you still don’t want him to get caught because of you.
“You’re not working today. What plans do you have with him?” he asks, completely ignoring your distress.
“We’re going to the bookstore. We were going to spend our first day free just reading manga and eating junk food,” you rush out impatiently.
Sylus just looks at you for a few beats, the picture of lazy boredom on a weekend morning.
“Okay? Are you satisfied? Can you please leave now?” This is good. You can avoid the inevitable, It was a mistake, thought you were someone else, was dreaming about a giant amorous anthropomorphized ruby, you’re not exactly my type, because my type is someone who has their shit together, can identify what fucking region a certain grape was grown in and its exact soil acidity based on the year of the vintage, my type is someone else, anyone else—you reach down and hit yourself hard in the side of your thigh with a fist to get your head on straight, and start heading to your closet, intent on throwing on a robe or longer shorts so that you don't answer the door looking like you're not wearing any pants.
Sylus's irritated voice follows you. “Satisfied? No, I'm not feeling satisfied. But I would advise against answering the door wearing that.”
You jerk to a halt. “Excuse me?” You turn to find him scowling at you.
He waves a dismissive finger at the sweater and silk shirts you’re still wearing. “I think you should change before you answer the door.”
“I look that bad, huh? Thanks for the advice. You need to be gone when I get back.” You turn, hating everything and everyone, and make your way to the front door.
You throw it open, just as Xavier is lifting his hand to ring your bell again. His sky blue eyes, usually so calm and sleepy, widen when he takes in the dumpster fire that you are today.
“Hi, yeah, sorry. I overslept,” you rush out, hoping you can skip this part and go straight to the moving on with your day and your entire life part. “I just need like, fifteen minutes, and then I’ll be ready.”
“Did you get in a fight with a wanderer last night after we go home?” he asks, hand lifting again, this time toward you, as if he wants to touch you, but then thinks better of it and drops it back to his side. He’s wearing the white hoodie that Sylus stole from him. What even is your life right now?
“What? No, I just had some wine and was really tired.” He’s staring at you, brow furrowed now, and it takes a minute to realize that he’s staring at the sweater hanging off your shoulder. You suddenly get a really, really bad feeling. “Why?”
He lifts his hand again, and points, but in a kind of timid way, like a little kid who knows that it’s rude to point but can’t help himself anyway so just points a little so that his mom won’t get mad at him. “It looks like a wanderer bit you.”
You lift your own hand and touch your shoulder, and feel the too-warm skin there, the ache spreading deep into the muscle.
“Oooh, yeah. Yes.” You decide that you need to take acting classes. That is what you will do as your new hobby, on your few days off. You’re going to win the best actor award if it kills you, because if it doesn’t kill you, the embarrassment will kill you instead. And you’d rather die convincing everyone that everything is normal and you’re fine, and not from the embarrassment of the fact that your not-boyfriend, not-fuck-buddy, not-interested-at-all, probably not even your friend anymore Sylus accidentally bit you while fucking asleep and left evidence of it for all the world to see. “I did respond to a really minor alert in the neighborhood last night. It was only one wanderer. Hiding in a trash can of all places,” you laugh, not at all sounding unhinged. Convincing. “Bit me pretty good, but it really was nothing, I had completely forgotten about it. So, still on for the bookstore?” you ask, chipper, eager, well-adjusted!
Xavier stares at your shoulder for a few seconds longer, and then just nods. “Yeah, just text me when you’re ready.”
Bless him. You’ve almost put him back to sleep with your absolutely stellar performance. “Okay, great! See you soon.” You back into your flat again and let the door shut with a heavy click.
Xavier stands outside your door for several moments after you’ve scurried back inside. He thinks about how sharp his light blade is. He thinks about how he’s going to use it on whatever motherfucker thinks that he has the right to mark Xavier’s partner like an animal. And then he yawns, and meanders back to his own flat to wait for your text because he has all the time in the world, and the patience to match it. Xavier is your partner, and he’s not going anywhere, anytime soon. If he murders whatever asshole was in your flat last night right now, that might interfere with your bookstore plans with him.
You stand on the other side of the door for a moment, just trying to collect yourself. You lean against the cool surface, look up at your ceiling. Breathe in the smell of shoe leather, oiled metal. Absently you lift your hand to your shoulder. Why didn’t Sylus warn you before you went to open the door? He even admitted that he wouldn’t have … done that to you if he hadn’t been asleep. Why would he just… and then it hits you. He did tell you to change clothes before you answered the door. The asshole just didn’t tell you why. But he would know by now that you’d actually do the opposite of whatever he says, because he’s not the boss of you. He played you like one of his fucking records.
But why the fuck would he want Xavier to see what happened between the two of you? Does he enjoy your humiliation that much?
You have no idea if you’ll ever have the chance to figure him out, especially if he got the hint that you don’t want to see him anytime soon. You shake your head. Even though you should be exhausted after staying up so late and ending up on the human embodiment of a roller coaster with its wheels coming off despite all of your promises to yourself last night, you feel well-rested. You will survive this. You can survive anything.
You head back to your bedroom to confirm that Sylus is actually gone, because last night proved that whether he actually listens when you tell him to leave depends entirely on his own whims. As you enter, the late morning sunlight spills into the room. He really left. The room is empty. The books and various weapons on your nightstands have been stacked neatly and lined up just so. The clothes that had been left haphazardly hanging off your chest of drawer handles or strewn over the floor are nowhere to be seen. It would be the tidiest your bedroom has been in weeks, if not for the fact that your entire bed is covered in a thick layer of black feathers.
“This bitch,” you breathe.
It’s going to take at least two full size trash bags to clean this mess up.
You decide then and there that Sylus doesn’t have a choice about whether he’s going to see you again. You’re going to bag up these feathers and then tar and feather him with them the next time you see his gorgeous, petty fucking face.
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baby steps. l Joel Miller
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Summary: you were his very quiet companion on patrols
Warnings:  angst, a little bit of swearing, mentioning pregnancy, mentioning loss of a child, mentioning abortion, mentioning suicidal thoughts, generally - a lot of unpleasant things, Reader is 30s or sth, I guess
A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a long time. There are some not so nice things (read the Warnings!) but I hope the whole story won't be so awful. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
and i would like to thank you for the few kind words i have received recently. it scared me but was very nice. thank you!
The first time he met you was at Tipsy Bison when Tommy told him you would be his new partner on patrols. Footsteps were barely audible, and then a chair on the other side of the table moved and you sat down. 
Your eyes stopped on Joel's face for a moment, you nodded in greeting. The name quietly fell from your lips, and then you focused on the map that Tommy had spread out on the table.
Joel wasn't sure if you understood what his brother was saying to you. You were silent, sometimes nodding your head, nothing more.
"Is she even good for this?" Joel finally muttered as you said goodbye and left.
"What do you mean?" Tommy folded the map and put it in his jacket pocket.
Joel raised his eyebrows "She seems a little... I don't know. Distant?"
A quiet laugh escaped Tommy's lips "Really? And who's talking?" he took a few sips of coffee "Joel, you wouldn't patrol together if I wasn't sure she was good. She may not be the life of the party, but she's great at what she does."
Joel had the impression that he had seen you a few times in Jackson, but you were one of those people who kept their distance from others. So he looked like that to others too?
It was only the first patrol with you that made him change his mind about you, but he wasn't sure yet if this change was for the better. 
You were definitely not one of those people who needed to talk. Small talk wasn't for you, but you listened very carefully. 
The area around Jackson was no stranger to you, just like handling a gun. So Joel got used to you, and over time he even managed to get some information out of you.
You had been in Jackson for almost five years, you lived alone in a small apartment. You were alone. "That's the best way." No family or close friends, except for Maria. You were patrolling and searching for supplies. He was also sure he saw you in the library, but he never asked about it.
After a few months, Joel could clearly tell that you were the right person for the job. He even managed to make you laugh a few times or talk a little longer. You never asked him about the past, and when he asked you about it, you answered "We're at an age where everyone has some background, right? But not everything is suitable for talking about it."
"Your girlfriend seems nice." Ellie stated one day, and seeing his confused face added "I talked to her today. She said that this crap didn't let her finish high school, so now she's catching up on school readings. If I were her, I wouldn't bother. School sucks."
The warm coffee warmed his tired body, but after a moment he spoke up "You talked to her? When? And... She's not my girlfriend."
Ellie shrugged "We talk a lot. And you don't? You spend a lot of time together, I thought that..."
"You were wrong." Joel mumbled "Did she say anything else?"
The girl looked at him carefully. "You really don't know her very well, do you?"
He wasn't sure if he knew you at all. Did he have the right to demand that from you? You did your job thoroughly, he could rely on you, and despite everything you were still standing somewhere in the shadows, hiding from everyone.
"Is everything okay with you?"
Your voice tore him out of his reverie for a moment. You were walking through a quiet area, the fading grass crunching under your feet, and the cold wind slowly became more and more severe.
"Yeah, everything's okay." he replied, glancing at you over his shoulder "I was lost in thought."
"I saw. Good thoughts?"
Joel cleared his throat and stopped, and a moment later you stood in front of him, looking at him uncertainly. 
You really liked him. Miller might seem like a grump, but his personality didn't bother you at all. Women in Jackson also said he was handsome. You had a lot of time to watch him outside the city, you had to admit they were right too. But that wasn't what mattered, was it? You felt safe with him and you trusted him, that was important.
"Doesn't Ellie tire you out?" he asked finally.
"What?" you burst out laughing "Come on. I like her. She asks a lot of questions, but she's a cool girl. I remember when I was her age..."
You stopped as if the thought slowed down your thinking the moment it appeared in your head. Joel saw your eyes wandering around the area with an unseeing gaze.
"Were you her age when this started?" he asked, but you shook your head slightly "Older?"
"Not much." Your voice was quiet but calm "I was a senior in high school. It seems so stupid now... I had a crush on this one guy, fuck, I don't know why I thought of him now."
"It was important back then." Joel mumbled, absorbing your every word. "And your family?"
"They died. A long time ago." The answer was quick, but emotionless. "Why do you ask?"
Joel shrugged. "I don't know. Just like that. Maybe I'd like to get to know you better."
You nodded, analyzing his words for a moment. "You're weird sometimes, Miller." You finally stated. "Conversations like this don't lead anywhere. They only reopen old wounds."
You adjusted your rifle strap and moved forward.
Fall had come for good, and you were slowly starting to withdraw even more. He could see it. Patrols were almost completely silent, he rarely saw you among people or at evening community meetings. 
Even Ellie convinced him that something was going on, because when he asked her she said that she hadn't talked to you in a while.
"It's that time of year." Maria said when he asked her about you too, he was helping her fix the heating in her house. "You should get used to it, Joel. But... I didn't know you were so interested in her."
"It's not like that." he mumbled, but he felt a strange warmth creep up the back of his neck. "She's my partner on patrol. I want to know that she's okay."
"I get it." Maria nodded and sat down on the couch. "Have you talked to her?"
"I've tried, but you know perfectly well that it's not easy. You're her friend." the woman smiled gently. "Is there something she's not telling me?"
"A lot of things, Joel. Just like you, she's not very open to confiding. And this time of year..." she looked out the window where the wind was playing with the fallen leaves. "You should talk to her yourself, if you care about her. But you can also forget about it, be like everyone else, pass her on the street and just let her be. It shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"
And that was something he couldn't get out of his head.
When he saw that guy instead of you the next morning, a strange shiver ran down his spine. "She's sick." Mark said, pushing leather gloves onto his hands. "I'll replace her."
Joel nodded and they set off on patrol. However, his thoughts kept returning to you, he analyzed your last meeting, the last words you exchanged. You were even more subdued. He had the impression that he was forcing the next words out of you, and you just wanted to leave, to disappear.
"She's weird, but pretty." Mark replied when they took a break for hot coffee and a sandwich. "A few guys hit on her, but nothing came of it. Actually, I was hoping that you and her, you know..." he winked at Joel. "But maybe she's that type of person."
"What type?" Joel asked, chewing a bite of his sandwich.
"In times like these, people need each other. They want to at least pretend that things are normal." Mark explained, reaching for the thermos of coffee "And others simply adapt to it. They don't want to have anyone close to them, because it's risky, you know. I guess she's like that. A lone wolf."
But Joel wasn't entirely sure, because he knew you from a slightly different side, or at least that's what he thought. When he showed up at your door that evening, only silence greeted him. And it was the same for the next few days.
"Yeah, she's still in Jackson." Maria was sure of her words "I visited her yesterday, but I don't think..."
That was enough for him. That strange fear was creeping into Joel's heart again. He didn't know why. He was afraid, and all his thoughts kept running to you. It was as if a strange force was pulling him towards you.
"Hey! It's me. Open up." he knocked on your door, but it didn't help "I know you're there. I want to talk. You can't keep hiding."
No answer.
"I can easily break down this door." he declared "I'll make a mess and you'll just be embarrassed. I can do this, you know that. So... On three?" he cleared his throat as if he was preparing to actually do it "One!" Nothing. "Two!" he thought he heard quiet footsteps on the other side. He was about to open his mouth when the door opened slightly and he saw your face.
"You'll hurt your shoulder. It'll be my fault and you'll be excluded from patrols for a long time." you said "That's pointless. Go away."
"I'm not going until you talk to me." Joel replied, his dark eyes full of stubbornness that you knew so well "You can't keep hiding."
"Maybe I'm sick?"
"You don't seem to be."
And then with one strong push he opened the door and before you could stop him he went inside. His gaze swept the apartment, he heard your protests but didn't care. 
Like a storm he passed through the small living room, peeked into the kitchen and when he entered the bedroom he found what he was looking for.
"Fuck! Get out of here!" you hissed, rushing after him, but then you noticed the bottle of whiskey he had taken from your nightstand.
"And these are bedtime snacks?" he growled, throwing a box full of medicines to the floor. "You robbed a fucking pharmacy?"
"None of your business!" you replied, he saw the fury in your eyes. "You're the last person who should be judging me."
"Or maybe I can, because I'm the only one who's ever shown up at your fucking door? What did you want to do, huh?" he put the bottle down with a bang and walked up to you, but you didn't take a single step back. "We were supposed to find you only when the stairwell started to stink? Did you think about Maria? About Ellie? That girl really likes you. Did you think about..."
About me.
Your gaze, although full of tears, was unwavering. You stood there, arms folded across your chest, your throat constricted so tightly that you couldn't swallow.
"Joel..." his name sounded like a prayer in your mouth. "I don't know what you were thinking, but this doesn't concern you. You shouldn't even be here. I tried to keep you out of this."
"Why?" his voice was a little calmer "Why are you like this? I can't figure it out. At first I thought we just didn't know each other well, but after so many months. I heard how freely you talked to Maria, Tommy said that you used to babysit their kid. I don't understand it!"
You closed your eyes as if his words brought you pain, as if they evoked all the emotions in you that you wanted to hide. Tears ran down your cheeks, and a quiet sob escaped your throat.
"I don't know how to deal with this, Joel..." you whispered after a moment, looking at him with eyes full of pain "It all hurts me so much. Every day. Patrols with you were an escape for me, you didn't ask stupid questions, I could feel safe there. But it's all always for a moment."
Joel approached you, his warm hand caressed your arm "You can tell me everything, you know that." you nodded "Come on, sit down."
He closed the bedroom door behind you as if he was leaving something unpleasant and bad there, and then sat down next to you on the couch. When you calmed down a bit, you looked at him like never before, almost with tenderness.
"When I came to Jackson, five years ago, I wasn't alone." you started slowly.
"Were you with someone? With some group?" Joel frowned, trying to remember that detail that must have escaped his attention.
You shook your head. "No, Joel. I wasn't alone, because I was pregnant."
Something twisted his guts. He didn't expect this.
"It was the middle of the seventh month, I guess. It's hard to get regular doctor's visits these days." The little joke was probably meant to lighten the mood, but even you didn't smile. "I've had a long journey. I was alone. Almost." you took a deep breath, and Joel felt his hands go cold and trembling in an instant. "It's funny, you know. Long time ago, women my age already had two kids. And I was completely unplanned pregnant and I hated every single day. I didn't want this baby, but it was there. It was growing. It was alive. I could feel it."
"What about the father?" Joel asked quietly.
A strange grimace crossed your face at the mere memory. "He wasn't father material, if that's what you mean. Some random guy. You know, as women we have another bargaining chip. Something that really tempts some men. Something we can use to survive."
He knew perfectly well what you meant. He had seen many women like that, but he didn't judge them. Everyone did what they had to to survive.
"He was nice, if that's any consolation. We stuck together for a while, and then we went our separate ways. After a while, I found out I was pregnant. But I didn't have anyone or anything at hand to help me solve this... problem." you rubbed your forehead with your hand as if you wanted to get rid of bad memories "Some guy told me about someone who could get rid of it manually, but I was afraid of infection. Then it was too late. Days and weeks passed, and I hated myself and this baby. The nausea was killing me. I was no longer good at smuggling. I also had no idea what I would do with a crying newborn... I got to Jackson, I thought maybe someone here would help me. Maria was so wonderful." a faint smile appeared on your lips, but you weren't even looking at Joel anymore. Your gaze was fixed on your clasped hands "I started bleeding a few days after I arrived. Then everything happened so quickly... The doctor at the clinic couldn't do anything. I had to give birth, but... There was so much blood... And silence. There was no baby crying."
Joel felt as if a heavy stone was resting in his stomach. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face, but he couldn't say any words that could comfort you. And what the hell would they sound like. But you didn't wait for that, the words slowly flowed from your lips. 
"The doctor said that my body was too weak, that long fatigue, improper diet, that he was too weak... I had a son. He was so small when Maria put him in my arms... And he was so perfect. I was so afraid that his crying would bring trouble to us, that he decided to be quiet."
"I'm sure it wasn't your fault..." Joel finally choked out "Things like that..."
"Happens. I know that." You interrupted him calmly "But it was my fault, Joel. When I saw him... I would have given my life so he could cry, so I could know he was healthy and strong. How could I have ever thought otherwise? What kind of person am I?"
Your voice broke. You looked exhausted and tired of life. Joel understood your guilt perfectly, he knew what you felt. Sarah appeared in his head in an instant.
"I had a daughter." His voice broke the long silence between you. "I lost her right at the beginning."
"I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet, but full of something that gave him some relief.
"After everything I wanted..." he cleared his throat "I wanted to do the same thing you wanted. I even tried, but... I know how you feel, it's so devastating, and it will never get easier."
"I still have him in my mind, you know. He'd be five now. He'd ask a thousand questions, and I'd have to make sure he doesn't get into trouble. Sometimes I think about what it would be like, but then I hate myself even more... I didn't want him. I wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it's because of this..."
"Don't say that." Joel grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly. "You might have thought so. You were alone, and this world had gone mad. You got into Jackson, you could be safe here, but... These things happen."
You watched him carefully. Never before had you and Joel spoken so intimately, but you didn't feel embarrassed by it. On the contrary, it was the first time someone had really meant it when they said "I understand you."
"I'm sure Sarah was beautiful." you said quietly.
"She was. And very smart. Much smarter than me." Joel added. "She probably would have gone to college or something."
For a moment, silence reigned again. You had the impression that you were both lost in your thoughts about the losses that affected you. You weren't beating each other, you just allowed yourselves to feel it all again.
"Did you really want to kill yourself?" his question brought you back to reality for a moment.
You nodded. "Look at me, Joel. I have nothing, no one. I don't know if I could ever get close to someone again. And all these thoughts only make me feel worse. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel anything anymore."
He understood it perfectly. After Sarah died, he felt that this world wasn't for him. Every day was torture, and the longer it lasted, the more he closed himself in his shell. Years passed, and Joel barricaded himself so much that no one and nothing could get him out. 
And then Ellie appeared.
"You know..." he began uncertainly trying to find the right words. "I know what I'm going to say will seem pointless to you, but sometimes it's worth gritting your teeth and trying to live on. Not jumping into the deep end right away, but slowly, day by day. I know that your son..."
The name you gave him when you saw his face for the first time came out of your mouth. Joel repeated it gently.
"Your son would have a really fantastic mother." he said "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I really am."
Tears flowed down your cheeks and Joel struggled to put his arm around you so that you could snuggle up to him. You clung to him, and for the first time he felt the warmth of your body, your scent, your tender touch when you hugged him.
You sat like that for a long time. For the first time you talked about everything and nothing, he heard your quiet laughter a few times and noticed how much he liked it. It was all like honey to his heart. The feeling of loneliness he had disappeared when you were next to him.
He saw you the next day on patrol. It was the first sunny morning in a long time.
"Hi." Your quiet voice was the best thing he'd heard in a long time.
"Baby steps, right?" He nudged your shoulder lightly.
You smiled and followed him.
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
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hederasgarden · 2 days
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Under the Influence - Part 1
Summary: While investigating a suspicious pharmaceutical company, you and Clark find yourselves exposed to a drug that forces you to grapple with its unforeseen consequences. Pairing: Clark Kent x F!Reader  Word Count: 3.9K Warning: 18+ only, explicit sexual content. Dubious consent (reader and Clark are exposed to sex pollen), unprotected PIV, size kink, biting, angst and other untagged themes.  A/N: Thank you @ryebecca @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for holding my hand through this and Becca for beta’ing!
Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.
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Masterlist ♡ Henry Cavill Characters Masterlist
It’s late, and the glittering skyline of Metropolis stretches out beyond the windows of the Daily Planet. The usual hum of activity in the bullpen is absent tonight – it’s just you, Clark, and an intimidating stack of boxes that seem to multiply with every passing minute. You may have indulged in a daydream or two about Clark just like this, but none of them ever involved so much paperwork.
You stifle a yawn, reaching for your coffee, only to nearly choke when you realize it’s gone cold. Grimacing, you set the offending mug aside and try to wash away the stale taste with water. The sound catches Clark’s attention and pulls him from his work. He offers you a wiry smile that you return, struck once again by just how handsome he looks. He makes it all too easy to have a crush on him, even though you know it wouldn’t go anywhere.
“I’ll put on a fresh pot,” he offers, stretching as he stands. 
Despite shedding his suit jacket earlier, and the way his tie is slightly askew, he still manages to look annoyingly chipper despite the late hour. You lean back to pass him your mug, your stiff muscles protesting. They ache from hours of sitting and sorting. 
“Back in a jiffy,” he promises, disappearing down the hall. 
By now, the two of you have been hunched over documents for nearly ten hours. Half of them are so technical they might as well be gibberish, but you’ve found a few leads in the financial papers. Unfortunately, your current stack of documents is so heavily redacted that they’re practically useless. You groan in frustration, resting your forehead on your arms until Clark returns, bringing the rich, intoxicating aroma of freshly brewed coffee with him. 
You accept the mug with a smile but quickly set it on the table when the warmth that seeps through the ceramic nearly burns your fingers. Not for the first time, you wonder how Clark managed to get the ancient coffee machine to percolate so quickly. For everyone else, it typically spewed out lukewarm sludge.
“Bet you're regretting volunteering for this assignment now,” Clark says. 
“Not for a moment,” you reply. “You’re still sharing that byline with me, right?” You question, squinting up at him.
“I always keep my promises,” he says with such earnestness that you’re reminded once again why Perry liked to call him a Boy Scout.
“I’ll hold you to it because this story’s turned into a beast.”
Clark sighs, resting his hands on his hips as he surveys the cluttered table strewn with file boxes and paper.  “It really has,” he agrees. 
When Perry called for a volunteer from the pool of junior editors to help with an expose on Salvation Pharmaceuticals, you jumped at the opportunity and not just because Clark was the writer assigned to the story. Most of your days were spent copyediting stories and arguing about AP style. You were just itching for some hands-on research experience, although neither of you expected the thread Clark pulled to unravel so quickly or so thoroughly. 
What started as an investigation into government kickbacks and dubious congressional dealings rapidly evolved into something far more unsettling. Salvation Pharmaceuticals’ R&D department was embroiled in deeply questionable research, from a gas capable of erasing memories to a potent drug they called a truth serum. All of their drugs had horrible side effects, particularly the latter which worked by lowering inhibitions but also triggered something they called sexual psychosis.
Clark’s freedom of information request resulted in your current predicament. Based on the sheer number of boxes they sent it was clear the company hoped to overwhelm you with an avalanche of data and make it difficult to find what you needed. Unfortunately for them, Clark Kent was one of the most determined reporters you’d ever met. If anyone was going to get to the bottom of the story it was him. 
“Well…once more unto the breach,” you quote, holding up a fresh box of files.
As you lift the lid, Clark offers you a small smile, his cheeks dimpling. For a moment, you’re too distracted by him to notice the cloud of yellow dust rising from the box. It quickly expands, swirling into a thick mist that engulfs you both. Immediately, your lungs begin to burn, and you gasp for air. You push your chair back and struggle to stand as your vision blurs. 
A strong arm around your middle hauls you back, dragging your feet on the carpet. Clark pulls you to the edge of the room, and you lean into him, desperately trying to clear your lungs. Behind you, he grunts, his fingers twitching and spasming against your hip. It takes several moments for the air to clear, but when it does, you watch in horror as the yellow dust seems to melt into your skin.
“What was that?” You ask, voice hoarse.
Clark is silent and looks grim when you turn to face him. “I think that was the truth serum. The reports described it as yellow dust.”
You stare at him, bewildered. “Why would the dust be in there?”
“I don’t know. But I can guess.”
You rub your chest and take a hesitant step back. “I don’t feel any different. Do you?”
“No.” He presses his lips together, a muscle in his jaw twitching with tension. “Do you feel anything?”
You exhale slowly, taking stock of your body. “Maybe?” Your response is more of a question than a definitive answer. You feel oddly warm, but it could just be the adrenaline from the situation. 
“You’re sweating,” he observes, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. The warmth of his touch makes you shudder and you can’t help but notice how good he smells. “Your body temperature is elevated.”
“Huh?” You look up at him, momentarily lost in his gaze. “You’re hot, too,” you blurt out, mortified when the words leave your mouth.
“I feel fine,” Clark replies, either misunderstanding what you meant or choosing not to acknowledge the slip.
You step away from him, feeling your body buzz with embarrassment. Sweat dots your brow, and you’re halfway out of your thin cardigan before you even realize it. As you pace the room, you realize Clark might be right — the powder could be affecting you. You try to shake off the disorienting feeling that lingers, while Clark tracks your progress with sharp blue eyes.
“Should we call someone? Isn’t there a protocol for dealing with mysterious powders?” It’s difficult to think straight when your body feels like a furnace. “Clark?” You question.
His nostrils flare but otherwise, he doesn’t respond until you say his name again. “Yeah. There’s uh, an anthrax protocol. Perry’s got it in his office.”
Time seems to progress in strange lurches and lulls as you wait for Clark to return. You’re not sure how long he’s gone, each minute dragging as the heat within intensifies and your thoughts become increasingly muddled. There’s a growing pressure in your stomach too, something that radiates down. It’s not exactly painful, but it’s persistently irritating — a prickling feeling that needs to be soothed.
“I made the call,” Clark announces, reappearing. “They said it’ll be 30 minutes until they get here with everything they need. We just have to sit tight.”
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. If it really was the truth serum, and you’re starting to believe Clark might be right, there’s no telling what might come out of your mouth. Even now, as you pace back and forth, you feel a pressure under your tongue, as though the words are lurking just beneath the surface, eager to spring out. The last thing you want to do is reveal your stupid little crush on him.
“God, it’s hot,” you muttered, staring at the window. You press your palms to the glass. It’s cool to the touch and you lay your forehead against it, almost moaning in relief. You wish you could strip off your dress and melt into the floor. 
“Here.” Clark’s voice is closer than you expect.
You flinch at the feel of his hand on your lower back but let him turn you around to face him. He presses a glass of cool water to your lips, and you grasp his thick wrist as he urges you to drink it all, your gaze never leaving his. The moment you finish your mouth feels dry and your throat itches. 
“You have the bluest eyes,” you whisper. “You shouldn’t hide them behind your glasses.” You reach for them, but Clark stops you with a gentle hand on yours. Embarrassment rushes under your skin, and you draw back. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening.”
“It’s the drug.”
“Why aren’t you affected?” You question. “You seem fine.”
“My biology is different from yours,” he says almost absently only to freeze a second later. He presses his lips together and clenches his jaw. For the first time since you met him, Clark looks genuinely unsettled. “The reports said it affected women quicker,” he adds before stepping back.
Your hand falls limply to your side as you watch him. Clark tugs at his already loosened tie, stretching his neck with an audible crack. A dark red flush creeps up his cheeks, making the skin around his eyes glow faintly. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a harsh breath through his nose.
“Maybe I should wait in the other room,” he grits out.
“Yeah,” you agree.
Clark barely takes a step towards the door before a sharp, unexpected wave of searing pain rips through your stomach, sending you crashing to your knees. The impact jolts your entire body, but that discomfort is overshadowed by a deep gnawing ache between your legs. You pitch forward onto all fours, struggling as your cunt flutters around nothing. 
“Oh,” you whimper, terrified as your mind recalls the adverse event report for the truth serum with perfect clarity. 
Following an increase in basal body temperature, patients exposed to the drug exhibit symptoms of full-blown sexual psychosis. This condition necessitates achieving climax to alleviate symptoms. Patients who are unable to reach climax experience a marked increase in heart rate and blood pressure, which in some cases progresses to cardiac arrest.
Every muscle in your body tenses, as a fierce, relentless pressure builds. Then, like the tide, it recedes, leaving you curled into a ball on the floor. Through half-closed eyes, you meet Clark’s gaze. He kneels in front of you and his expression mirrors your anguish.
“Clark….”
“I know,” he says quietly. His hands hover at your shoulder for a moment before he finally helps turn you on your back.
None of this feels real; it’s like a twisted wish gone wrong.
“Help me, please,” you cry, the words escaping in broken sobs. You’re too hysterical to feel ashamed about what you’re asking him to do. Details from the report keep replaying in your mind, fueling your terror. You don’t want to die.
Clark looms over you, a sheen of sweat on his brow. You stare up at him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the pain in your core pulses and builds. The ache in the body is all-consuming, overriding everything else. Worse is the feeling of emptiness that you know he could fill. 
“Please.” Your voice fizzles out as a strong wave of pain slams into you. It leaves you reeling and disoriented. You claw at his arms, fingernails digging into his skin. 
“I’m going to help you.” He says, his gaze lingering on you as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “If-if you want me to,” he adds, and a hysterical laugh bubbles up inside you. Of course you do, you’ve dreamed of him since the day you met him in the breakroom. You just never imagined this. 
When another cramp leaves you panting and desperate you grit out a pained, “Yes.”
His large hand encircles your calf, gently but firmly pulling your legs apart so he can kneel between them. The cool air makes you groan and you try to curl in on yourself again, but Clark pins you to the floor easily. With shaky hands, he drags your dress up to expose your simple black underwear. The sight seems to transfix him and you watch his chest rise and fall with quick, shallow breaths that mimic your own. 
“I have to ah, I have to…” He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. When he shakes his head his glasses fall down his nose. “I need to get you ready.”
“I don’t care,” you sob. “Fuck me, please.”
Somewhere in the back of your mind, the part that's still you, is horrified by your words. You’ve never spoken to anyone like that, let alone a colleague or the man you have a crush on. But you know with a terrifying certainty that if he doesn’t fuck you, you’ll both die. 
“It’s okay,” he soothes, the calm tenor of his voice betrayed by the way his hand trembles against your thigh. He tears off your underwear with an ease that would give you pause if you were in your right mind.
Shame is a thing of the past as you spread your legs even further, allowing his hungry gaze to drink its fill. He parts your folds and draws two fingers through the wetness gathered there, starting with light, teasing strokes that quickly build to more. When his thumb finds your bundle of nerves, he rubs slow, soothing circles until the pain in your stomach eases a fraction. 
“You’re doing good,” he encourages, sounding breathless. “Doing so good for me, honey.”
You moan his name and he shifts closer, bent forward to watch himself work. Soon one kind of pressure recedes and another begins. You gasp, throwing your head back as Clark continues his slow assault, building in its intensity. When your legs thrash his other hand settles on your hip, holding you still as he works a thick finger inside. Your cunt clenches in response to the intrusion. Above you, he groans and his thumb moves faster. 
“More, oh god I need more,” you beg, keening when Clark pushes a second finger inside. 
The stretch of them both burns but that’s eclipsed by the pleasure you feel. You rock forward, trying to take more of him but he doesn’t let you, controlling the pace. You can hear yourself babbling, nonsensical words streaming from your mouth as he draws you closer and closer to your orgasm until, all at once, it overwhelms you completely. Your orgasm is almost painful and your hands curl into fists, your body contorting in response. The room blurs around you, and every fiber of your being is consumed by the relief you feel. 
When it passes you’re left trembling on the floor, avoiding Clark’s gaze. He hovers over you, his arousal hard to miss with the way it tents the front of his gray slacks.
“Clark.” You touch his chest, inhaling when his dark blue eyes snap up to meet yours. “Do you…” 
You can’t even force yourself to say it now that you’re back in your right mind. Clark shakes his head, withdrawing his fingers. You wince, and he looks pained. 
“We should —” he starts, but whatever he is about to say is abruptly cut off as he grunts and hunches forward, a visible shudder running through him. 
Hesitantly, you reach out and touch his face. When your fingers brush over the curve of his cheek he moans and surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that steals your breath. He forces his tongue inside and the heat of him is almost unbearable. You push at his shoulder, but he doesn’t relent. His hands travel up and down your sides and you feel that familiar pressure return to your core. It builds slowly, like the spark of an ember that will soon flare into a blazing fire. 
You shift under Clark, drawing your legs up as he swallows down your needy whine. By the time he pulls away, you’re feeling dizzy and gasping for breath.
“We need to,” you begin, squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembles.
“I know,” Clark replies.
He fumbles with his pants and you look up at the ceiling as he pulls himself free. It feels like a violation to look, but without your permission, you find your gaze drifting down. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of his cock, just as big and thick as the rest of him. It’s red and weeping. Your cunt aches, and you toss your head side to side, trying to dispel the pain. 
Clark plants a hand near your head while he lines himself up between your thighs. He pushes inside slowly. It hurts, god, it hurts, but you need more of him, and you need it now. Wrapping his tie around your hand, you pull hard, urging him closer. He snaps his hip forward with enough force to jar your bones, and you wail in response. For one blissful moment, everything is quiet. Your buzzing mind and aching body are finally filled in a way they’ve been craving.
“Fuck.” The curse falls from Clark’s lips and brings you back to the moment. “You feel so good. You feel…” he trails off, his words bleed into one long, low moan that has you clenching around him. 
Above you, his handsome face contorts, his lips pressed tightly together. Tension lines the muscles of his jaw and his dark brows furrow in an expression that teeters between ecstasy and pain. Pleasure skitters along your nerves as he drives into you over and over again to reach some unknown place hidden deep inside. Your second orgasm rises to the surface just as swiftly as your first and Clark is relentless as he fucks you through it. 
There isn’t even time to catch your breath before his hands encircle your hips and he leans back, drawing you with him. The backs of your thighs drag over the fabric of his slack as he moves your body to meet his thrusts. As one orgasm fades you feel another spring to life, hastened by the feel of his calloused thumb on your clit. The need inside you burns even brighter, and a litany of desperate pleas spills from your lips. 
“You feel,” he pants, “just like I imagined.”
When you gasp his name he curls his body over yours, the new angle allowing him to move even deeper. You hold onto his biceps and listen to the desperate little noises that escape his chest with each thrust. His lips find the soft skin of your throat as his fingers dig into the neckline of your dress. He pulls hard and buttons scatter, giving him access to your shoulder. Teeth scrap over tender flesh and your back arches as another orgasm blooms in your stomach.
Waves of pleasure ebb through your body and your fingers tangle in the thick hair at the nape of his neck. Clark doesn’t falter even when you fall still beneath him. Your muscles ache, and your body feels tense and exhausted, but that frenzied need that’s driven you since the dust melted into your system slakes away until you’re left feeling everything. Guilt and horror fill your body like sand, weighing you down. 
Clark groans and you realize he’s still in the throes of the drug's effects. The ceaseless rhythm of his hips has turned painful and your insides feel raw. You push at his shoulder but he doesn’t even seem to notice, hitching your leg over his waist to push himself deeper. 
He shudders, gasping, “like that, just like that.” Then his teeth sink into your neck and he finally stills. 
Tears leak from the corner of your eyes as your breath comes in short little sobs, your heart fluttering in your chest. After a few moments, Clark stiffens and you know he’s come back to himself. He shifts, slipping out of you with a quiet exhale. You can’t stifle your whimper of pain and his gaze jumps to you. For a moment you stare at each other and the silence is deafening. Then he passes a trembling hand over his lips and rocks back, moving to his feet in a fluid motion. He turns from you to tuck himself away and runs a hand through his curls. 
You sit up slowly, drawing your knees to your chest while you hold the fabric of your dress together in an attempt to give yourself some dignity. It’s almost laughable after what just happened. Clark says your name and you stare at his outstretched hand. After a moment of hesitation, you take it and he pulls you to your feet. When he drops his jacket over your shoulders you feel a swell of gratitude. You let him guide you to a chair, wincing when you sit. Everything feels raw and tender. 
He clears his throat. “The response team is downstairs.”
“Okay,” you say numbly. 
“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whispers. 
You want to tell him it’s okay, that it’s not his fault, but the words catch in your throat. All you get out is his name. Nothing about this is okay. How could it be? 
You wait together, Clark standing half a step ahead of you while you stare at his broad shoulders, lost in thought. He’s the one to greet the men and women in hazmat suits. You don’t catch everything he says, but his eyes drift back to you as he speaks. Before long, you’re separated, and the last image you hold onto is his hair tousled from your fingers and his wrinkled, untucked shirt.
From there, everything becomes a blur; moments merge into a disjointed sequence — being herded into a decontamination shower, the uncomfortable scratch of paper scrubs against your sensitive skin, a distressing medical exam, and then the questions. Endless questions bring back the haze of disjointed memories you’re struggling to process.
By the time you’re allowed to leave, the first rays of light filter through the windows of the bullpen. You watch the soft golden glow and listen to the faint chirping of birds. The city is waking up, bustling to life as it always does, but you feel disconnected from it all until you step into the elevator and turn to find Clark standing there.
He halts the doors from closing, his sad, mournful eyes meeting yours. A powerful wave of emotion rises in your throat as the weight of his guilt and your embarrassment settles inside you like a stone. There’s so much you want to say, so much that needs to be said, but it’s overshadowed by a deep ache in your chest. You feel so lost and unsure, terrified about what lies ahead that tears spill from your eyes, hot and unchecked. 
Clark exhales softly and steps back, but just before the doors close, he whispers your name. In that moment, everything else fades away — it’s just you, him, and all the unspoken words that linger between you.
Then, he’s gone and you’re left utterly alone. 
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cornyforjk · 3 days
Text
Drive you Crazy| Day 2 | jjk
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SUMMARY In which you are stuck living with an arrogant rookie racer who thinks of you as an obstacle, ready to ruin your glory, but things get heated when he has a pervy smile hidden under that pretentious attitude. Emotions that are complicated. You could never fall for your enemy! He's sabotaging you.
Pairing: racer!jk × racer!oc
Genre: angst and pure filth smut
Warnings: trash language
Taglist: @tatamicc @jwnghyuns
A/note: IK IK I'm going very quick with updating but I'm just ,,,way too excited idkw. Please bear with me 🙈.
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The news was just like tripping over a rock.
Relax.
Or it was more like getting hit by a boulder.
The elegant woman introduced herself as Natalie, your new in charge. After the heavy atmosphere with intense eye contact between you and Jungkook that someone could miscalculate as a lovers' gaze, you finally snicker in triumph.
Walking towards Natalie, who held out her pen, inclined for your signature. You would be signing your admission name for the race, and Jungkook would be the one fuming with irritation that no one minded.
Now about the boulder crushing news...
"WHAT?!" You and Jungkook gasp in sync, watching Natalie wince as she hides her face behind the notepad.
"I won't share a room with him!" "Are you crazy Natalie? This swine isn't even real- she will burn me in my sleep!" Jungkook vented, intertwining his hands in front of his chest, eyes begging for sympathy.
"I'm sorry guys, Jungkook is on the waiting list whereas Y/n...we still need to talk to your sponsors, the board, and then assign you a cabin. Furthermore, you will have to hang around together for some time."
The bickering and shoving had people around staring with wide eyes, embarrassment peaked on your face in the colour red that tinted your cheeks and the tip of your ears.
"Keep it down! This is a professional arena." Natalie hushes you both down.
A random man in fancy attire flinched, his eyebrow raising in a barely questioning arch. The click of his tongue was audible enough to make out his annoyance.
You couldn't get any louder, could you?!
Jungkook audibly snorted, peeling off his leather gloves and raking his hand through his hair. His playful orbs followed the direction the man walked in. Jungkook threw him a look.
'What are you looking at, son?'
He cheekily snickered, choking on his cackle that left your tongue-tied.
It would be a dishonour to your ego if you let him have the content look on his face. "Do you know who he is!?" You crowd over his shoulder.
Jungkook blandly shook his head, a confused expression twisting his eyebrows, forehead creased in discomfort. "That's Kim Namjoon! The famous Korean racer, the first rookie to ever win his first race." You chuckled, "have fun winning him over after that look." You elbowed his guts, scampering around Natalie who picked out the room keys.
Your giggles get louder as you follow Jungkook's glossy eyes widen, a petrified look taking over his features, wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. "I fucked up"
You watch him run after the elite racer Namjoon, turning around when you hear metal clanking against your ear. An eager Natalie holding out the keys to your new 'shared' cabin.
"Does that mean I get the larger bed?" You whisper, grabbing the key and eyeing your surroundings, watching out for a fuming Jungkook.
Natalie bowed, walking closer. "Only if you get there first." She winked. Her lips slightly parted as a yawn escaped her lips. "I owe you big time Natalie!" You run, feeling the marble floor vibrate at the heavy steps of your boots.
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You flung onto the couch without bothering to look around, accidentally leaving the front door a bit open, making it a teenager's nightmare.
"That was a shitty pick up line!" A crash follows the shout by Jungkook in the hallway who slides the door wide open, halting dead in tracks as he finds you sprawled on the couch.
His heavy breathing contaminates the quiet atmosphere. "Don't tell me the four-eyed nerd gave you the keys first." He referred to Natalie, huffing out chunks of air, bending over with hands on his knees.
Talk about running a marathon-
Calming down Jungkook straightens up, suddenly fumbling back into the door. He turns around abruptly, closing the door behind with a click, boring holes into the floor. His eyes never met yours as he just stood there with no movement.
"I'm not naked you know."
"Not yet-"
Shifting in your seat you stand up, watching him lean on the doorway with a lousy smirk. "I heard that!"
"Not my fault." His smirk turned into a scowl, Jungkook pushed you over and dug himself a seat at the corner of thecouch. Draping a blanket over his feet. His mood swings were worse than a girl on her periods.
The doe-eyed man sighs, tossing in turning his eyes fixated on your legs, and pretending to not care didn't help.
"What are you looking at Bethany?"
He turns your way, throwing a sharp look. "Who even wears mismatched socks?" He tried muffling his throaty chuckle. "No one would guess you are a racer." He laughs loudly, clutching his stomach.
"I just have a different style."
"Different doesn't always mean a good one."
You are about to throw your hands on him, but the doorbell interrupts those revengeful thoughts.
Suddenly you are pulled back while trying to get to the door. Jungkook resting his large hand on your petite waist, looking at his watch. His secured hold did not go unnoticed."Let me go!" You squirm in his hold. "Shhh...shut up for a minute."
Seconds pass by with no one speaking, deep breaths patting your ear, his eyes fixed on you.
The fuck are you up to?! Your eyes scream at him.
Jungkook ignores it by rolling his eyes, sliding his hand down your hip watching you freeze at his warm touch.
Your breath hitched, like a film tape rolling, your eyes rolled back as you closed them shut, throwing your head back on his shoulder.
"I see you are head over heels for my touch." He smirked.
You open your eyes, hands placed over his, trying to break free from that alluring touch.
What were you even doing in his arms?
This damn seducer-
"Ugh! Go away. Why didn't you let me open the door?" Jungkook doesn't answer, averting his gaze while climbing back on the couch trying hard to ignore your question.
"Answer me." You demand.
The authority in your voice pierced through his ear. He wrings his hands together before a wave of calmness washes over him.
"Why am I even afraid of you," he slowly mumbled, chuckling. That same expression changed into one full of arrogance and ego.
The one you hate with all your heart.
"They were calling out registration names for racers." He says, satisfied while you try your hardest to cope with the anger fuming out of your ears.
"You tried sabotaging me?!" Walking swiftly you crowd over him, clutching his collar, "what's your problem Jeon Jungkook."
"You."
"You are my problem."
Baring your teeth you shove him back,Baring your teeth you shove him back, lips quivering as you tightly press them, cheeks turning red.
Oh gosh, this isn't a great time to cry. Especially in front of this jerk!
"I hate you, Jeon." Your words fade away as you run out of the room looking for the registration team.
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mononijikayu · 6 hours
Text
triassic love song — gojo satoru.
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“They were together until the very end.” you said softly, your voice carried by the gentle wind. “I hope they’re still together, wherever they are.” The tall man took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. For a moment, his blue gaze seemed distant, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far beyond the present. But then his lips curled into a small, sad smile.  “They will be, you know?” he replied quietly, his voice deep and filled with a quiet conviction. “Some loves are strong enough to last forever. They…they transcend, even time.”
GENRE: alternate universe - reincarnation au!;
WARNING/S: edo japan era, nsfw, angst, fluff, romance, hurt/comfort, engagement, hurt, physical touch, implied character death(s), natural disaster(s), mourning, pain, grief, happy ending, depiction of natural disaster(s), depiction of suffering, depiction of character death(s), depiction of violent destruction, depiction of grief, depiction of suffering, mention of implied character death(s), mention of death(s), mention of suffering, mention of destruction, mention of earthquake-related destruction, fiance! gojo, fiance! reader, reincarnated! gojo, reincarnated! reader;
WORD COUNT: 8.6k words
NOTE: this song has ruined me beyond understanding. paris paloma, your album was just insane like im sorry. the fact that she wrote a song about the triassic cuddle inspired me to write something similar and i just??? i can't help myself. ive been so crazy about this song that i just decided, you know what. this is great. this is just something i would in fact like to bawl my eyes out writing. and i did. i did that. and i hope you cry with me and enjoy it. anyway, i love you all so much <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
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IT WAS ENJOYABLE TO BE TOGETHER. IIt was forbidden to be together at this time, with the curfew in place, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not when it came to him. The world outside was still, bound by rules meant to keep order, but within the quiet sanctuary of your family estate, the constraints of the outside world seemed distant and unimportant. Inside, warmth and anticipation filled the air, thick as the lingering scent of incense that wafted through the halls. The soft glow of lanterns bathed the room in a warm light, casting shadows across the delicate shoji screens, and reflecting off the polished wooden beams and traditional tatami mats beneath you.
Gojo Satoru sat beside you, his presence magnetic as always, but tonight, something was different. His signature smirk still played at the corners of his lips, and his bright, sparkling eyes glimmered with mischief. But beneath that playfulness was an undeniable depth, a new layer of emotion that wasn’t there before—an unspoken excitement, a shared understanding that you were no longer just childhood friends.
You were now betrothed.
Bound by the ties of engagement that your noble families had arranged, it felt as though a long-awaited dream had finally come true. And though you had known each other all your lives, this new bond between you carried a weight of its own, something that made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected. The happiness you felt was undeniable, shared in the way Satoru’s hand occasionally brushed against yours, in the subtle glances that said everything words couldn’t.
“You’re quieter than usual, don't you think?" Satoru remarked with a teasing lilt, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of something more serious. He leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, as if daring you to speak first.
You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his intense scrutiny. “I could say the same about you, hm?” you replied, trying to match his teasing tone, though your voice betrayed the flurry of emotions swirling within you.
Satoru chuckled softly, leaning back on his hands, eyes never leaving yours. “Well, it’s not every day you get engaged to your best friend!” he said, his tone light, but his expression softened as his usual bravado gave way to sincerity.
That sincerity took your breath away, and for a moment, the reality of the moment hit you fully. You weren’t just sneaking out to spend time with him as you had countless times before. This was different. This was a promise, one sealed by the love you’d always shared but never fully acknowledged until now.
“I’ve been waiting for this, you know?” you admitted quietly, your eyes meeting his. “For us to be more than just... childhood friends.”
Satoru’s playful demeanor softened even more, a rare seriousness taking over his expression as he reached out to take your hand in his. His fingers were warm, and the simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine.
“Me too.” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For a long time.”
For a few moments, neither of you spoke. The world outside was still and silent, but inside this room, the air seemed alive with the energy between you. The gravity of the situation settled in—this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was the beginning of something much bigger, something that both excited and terrified you.
“You always did like breaking the rules.” you teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, though your heart pounded in your chest. “Staying out past curfew, sneaking into my room like this...”
Satoru grinned, his usual confidence returning. “I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, right?” he quipped, though the softness in his gaze lingered. “Besides, how could I stay away from you tonight? Our first night as an engaged couple... I had to be here.”
You laughed, but it was a soft, breathless sound, the kind that came when words failed to fully capture the emotions coursing through you. “I’m glad you’re here, Satoru.” you whispered.
He smiled, that warm, heart-melting smile that was reserved just for you, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered. Not the rules, not the expectations placed on you by your families, not even the looming responsibilities of your engagement. It was just you and him, sharing a quiet, intimate moment that you knew you would cherish forever.
“I brought something for you.” Satoru said after a brief pause, reaching into his sleeve and pulling out a small bundle of paper. “I wrote these for you.”
You blinked in surprise, watching as he carefully unfolded the papers. “Poems?”
He nodded, the tiniest hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, something you rarely saw from him. “Yeah, don’t laugh!” he added quickly, though the look in his eyes told you he trusted you completely. “I’ve been working on them for a while...”
You took the papers from him, your fingers brushing his as you did. The sheets were neatly folded, each one carefully written in his distinct handwriting. It touched you deeply to know that he had taken the time to craft these for you, that he had poured his heart into something so personal. Something for you, with all his love.
You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I could never laugh, my dearest.” you said softly, your voice sincere. “Thank you, Satoru.”
"I made these for you, my beloved." he whispered, pulling out one of the carefully folded parchment from your grasp and unfolded it. "Listen to me, alright?"
His slender fingers traced the delicate paper before he began to read softly, his voice like a gentle breeze:
"Beneath the cherry bloom, I wait  
for you, a light that never fades.  
In silence, your name takes root in my soul—  
a promise written long before time."
His tender words wove into your heart, each syllable filled with the love he had always held for you, now finally given shape. You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours, comforted by the sound of his heartbeat that matched your own excitement. The future felt certain, and the night was perfect. You kept listening to his voice, letting it guide you into the tender slumber of the night.
Satoru leaned closer to you, watching your expression, his bright blue eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and affection. Your orbs gazed at the tender strokes of his writing.
His calligraphy had always been so beautiful, but to form such words in order to capture not just the feelings he had for you, it was even more beautiful. And to have him read it with such affection, such love — for you and only you…..what could be more beautiful? What could be more perfect, more delightful?
But then, the ground beneath you shifted, a low rumble reverberating through the tatami mats. At first, it was subtle, almost imperceptible, but within seconds, the shaking intensified. It was subtle at first, a low rumble that made the lanterns flicker.
Satoru paused, his brow furrowing. Before you could ask, the ground shook violently, and the delicate house groaned under the pressure. Screams erupted from other rooms, echoing through the halls as the tremor grew stronger.
"Satoru?" you whispered, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest, not from love, but from fear.
He was already moving, his hand gripping yours tightly. “Stay with me, my beloved.” he commanded, his voice steady, though his eyes flashed with a seriousness you had never seen before. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The room shuddered violently as the earthquake hit full force, and you could hear the distant crashing of objects falling in other parts of the house. Screams erupted outside even louder—voices of your family, the servants, all caught in the chaos of the sudden disaster. And then all the sudden, it was eerily quiet. And that made your heart drop to your stomach 
For a moment, you thought that it would finally be over. But then, the earth beneath you trembled once more. You squealed as Satoru let his body encompass your own with the enveloping of his whole body on yours as the world crashed against you both. The walls were swaying left and right, the roof tiles were shattering one after another. It was chaos.
"Hold on to me. Don’t lift your eyes." he said, his voice calm but firm, even as the world quaked around you. “I’ll protect you.”
You clung to him, your heart pounding in fear as the floor shifted beneath your feet. His grip was unyielding, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies, shielding you from falling debris as the shaking intensified.
“I’ve got you, my beloved.” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady despite the chaos around you. “D–don’t worry.”
You feared when he stuttered, that he had gotten hurt. But he did not falter. His fingers gently stroked your back, trying to calm your trembling as the earthquake raged on. You could hear the distant crashing of porcelain and wood, your ears ringing from the harsh sounds of the destruction. But in his arms, you felt an odd sense of safety amidst the destruction. Because it was your Satoru holding you, protecting you. Because you’re together. 
As the tremors finally subsided, Satoru’s grip on you loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go. His breath was shaky, and when you looked up at him, you saw a rare flicker of fear in his usually carefree eyes. He swallowed hard before giving you a small, reassuring smile. You were still stunned, your head shaking as you tried to make sense of the world.
"Seems like the earth itself wanted to remind us of its power." he joked softly, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. He was just as afraid, perhaps even pained by some injury he would never show you. “We’re….we’re alright, my beloved. Don’t worry.”
You let out a breathless laugh, still clutching his robes as you pressed your forehead against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The night was no longer perfect, but in that moment, with Satoru holding you close, it felt like nothing could tear the two of you apart—not even the earth itself.
The earth, which had momentarily stilled, seemed to shift again beneath you, this time more violently.More catastrophic, more angry and volatile. You screamed as you held tightly to him, his body wrapping itself against you once more. The walls of your room groaned, beams creaking as the tremors returned with a vengeance, fiercer than before. The floor shook so hard you could barely keep your balance, even in Satoru's arms.
He pulled you even tighter against him, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Stay with me. Don’t let go.”
You could feel his muscles tensing beneath his robes, his usually easy going demeanor replaced by something more protective, almost desperate as his entire body forced itself to become a shield against anything against you. What remained standing of your ancestral home rattled more easily around you, dust falling from the ceiling in thick clouds. Outside, the screams grew louder, more frantic as the destruction worsened. Perhaps, it wasn’t even your family any longer. Perhaps it was the town, perhaps it was a neighboring village. You do not know anymore. And that’s what frightened you even more.
You could hear the unmistakable crash of something heavy—perhaps a roof beam—collapsing nearby. Suddenly, a deafening crack split the air. The wide, elaborate shoji doors rattled on their frames before they were blown open by the force of the quake. Your own room felt like it was being torn apart piece by piece. One of the wooden beams above groaned under the strain and, without warning, splintered and fell, hurtling toward the two of you.
Your beloved Gojo Satoru reacted in an instant, pushing you down and covering you with his body just as the beam crashed into the floor where you’d been trying to stand. The air was thick with dust, and the scent of earth and shattered wood filled your lungs, choking you. You shook as your eyes slowly opened to see your fiance pinning you down with his body shielding you.
“Satoru!” you gasped, your hands gripping the front of his robe, desperate to make sure he was unharmed.
“I’m fine, my beloved.” he muttered, though you could hear the strain in his voice. His arm was still braced above you, shielding you from any further debris. His other hand cupped the back of your head, pressing you into the crook of his neck. “We need to move. The house isn’t going to hold.”
You nodded against him, heart pounding in terror. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake from. The childhood home that had always felt so safe, so untouchable, was crumbling around you, and the only solid thing left was Satoru. He was all you had, you think. Everything…Everything was gone. Your body was shaking. 
He pulled you to your feet, guiding you toward the door, but just as you reached it, another powerful tremor sent the ground pitching beneath you. You fell forward, and Satoru caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close as the floor buckled and cracked beneath your feet. You could feel the splintering wood beneath your sandals, the whole structure of the house breaking apart beneath the relentless force of the earthquake.
“Satoru, we need to get out—” you started, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of another beam collapsing behind you, followed by a sickening crash from outside the room.
“I know, I know.” he said, his voice tight with focus as he scanned the surroundings. "We’ll find a way out. I promise."
He led you toward the door again, but just as you stepped forward, the entire room seemed to tilt. The floor caved in with a horrific crack, and suddenly, you were falling. Satoru’s grip tightened as you both plummeted into darkness, the floorboards and debris collapsing into the space below.
“Are you hurt?” Satoru’s voice cut through the chaos, his hand cupping your face gently as he pulled you close, checking for injuries in the dim light. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying the fear he usually kept hidden so well.
“I’m okay,” you gasped, though your body felt battered and sore.
He exhaled in relief, his forehead pressing against yours for a moment, his breath shaky. “We need to get out of here. Stay close to me.”
Even now, with the world collapsing around you, his determination didn’t waver. He pulled you to your feet once more, and together, you began to make your way through the rubble. The house was a maze of fallen beams, shattered walls, and debris, the once-beautiful estate reduced to ruins in a matter of minutes.
The aftershocks still rumbled beneath your feet, making every step treacherous, but Satoru kept you steady, his arm around your waist, guiding you through the wreckage. The air was thick with dust, and the distant screams of those outside continued, filling you with dread for what might await you once you escaped.
As you neared what used to be the outer courtyard, the quake hit again, this time more violent than any before. The very ground seemed to split open beneath you, and with a loud, earth-shattering roar, the outer wall of the estate gave way. You barely had time to scream before the floor cracked beneath your feet, and you fell into darkness once more.
This time, Satoru’s grip on you tightened, and you felt his body pull you against him, sheltering you as the ground gave way entirely. You hit the ground hard, the pain radiating through your body, but before you could react, you felt the warmth of Satoru’s arms around you, shielding you from the worst of it.
“Don’t leave me.” he whispered, his voice trembling as he held you tighter than ever. “I won’t let anything take you from me—not this, not anything.”
In that moment, as the world continued to crumble around you, his words were the only thing that kept you grounded. No matter what happened next, as long as you were with him, there was still hope. You clung to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his robes, as the tremors finally began to subside, leaving the two of you alone in the wreckage, but together.
You landed hard, the wind knocked out of you as your back hit the ground. The tatami beneath you was torn, and debris scattered everywhere, yet Satoru still held onto you, his arms wrapped tightly around your body, as though his grip alone could shield you from the crumbling world. The force of his embrace had absorbed much of the fall, but the impact still left you breathless. For a moment, everything was a blur—dust and darkness clouded your vision, and the deafening roar of collapsing beams filled the air.
Your body throbbed with pain, and panic surged in your chest, but even through the chaos, the warmth of Satoru’s body against yours anchored you. His presence, solid and unyielding, kept you grounded in the midst of the chaos.
"Satoru..." you gasped, your voice barely audible, but he heard you.
“I’m here,” he whispered fiercely, his voice steady despite the tremors still shaking the earth beneath you. His breath was ragged, but his grip on you didn’t falter. His white hair, now disheveled and covered in dust, clung to his forehead, but his eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—remained focused on you. “Are you hurt?”
You tried to shake your head, but your mind was still reeling, struggling to catch up with what had just happened. The earthquake raged on, though the initial violence of it had passed. The ground trembled beneath you like a sleeping beast disturbed from its rest.
Satoru shifted, pulling you up as carefully as he could. The house around you was nearly unrecognizable—wooden beams had collapsed, shoji screens were shredded, and parts of the roof had caved in. The once peaceful and warm room where you had shared your engagement was now in ruins, littered with broken objects and torn memories.
The sound of screams echoed from outside, faint but piercing. Servants. Family. It was hard to tell who, but the urgency in their voices cut through the haze of shock that clouded your mind. Your breath caught in your throat, panic gripping you once more.
“My family... my parents.” you muttered, scrambling to get up, but Satoru stopped you, his hand on your shoulder, firm yet gentle. “Satoru—”
"Wait," he said softly, though his voice carried the weight of authority. "We need to get out of here first. It’s not safe."
He tried to keep you calm, his steady hands guiding you through the debris, but you could see the tension in his posture. He was on high alert, his senses sharp as he glanced at every unstable beam, every shifting pile of rubble. He was scanning for danger, but more than that, he was trying to protect you from seeing the worst of it—the destruction, the death.
But as you stumbled through the wreckage of what had once been your home, you couldn’t avoid the horrors that surrounded you. Bodies. Littered through the halls, some crushed beneath fallen beams, others lying still in the open. Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world spun around you.
"Satoru..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you pulled away from his protective hold. "Where are they? My parents... my siblings?"
He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes darting around, trying to keep you moving forward, away from the bodies, away from the worst of it. But you knew. The silence was louder than any scream. You could feel tears fall from your face and that broke his heart to see.
"Satoru!" you cried, your voice breaking as your legs buckled beneath you. "Where are they?"
He knelt beside you, his hands cupping your face as he gently forced you to look at him. His bright blue eyes were filled with an overwhelming sadness, but he tried to hide it, to be strong for you. He had to be strong. He had to. He can’t be weak, not right now.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But we have to go. We need to find shelter. I’ll take you to my family home. They’ll know what to do.”
You nodded, though the words didn’t fully sink in. Your body was moving on autopilot now, your mind numb to the world as Satoru pulled you back to your feet. With every step, the destruction around you became more apparent, more real. The walls were crumbling, the air thick with dust and smoke, and the scent of burning wood filled your nostrils.
Together, you navigated the ruins of your estate, stepping over debris and through the remains of lives that had been lost in the quake. GojoSatoru kept a firm grip on your hand, leading you with a determination that seemed almost impossible given the circumstances.
But even he couldn’t hide the way his shoulders tensed, the way his jaw clenched when another body appeared in your path, forcing him to shield you from the sight.
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IT WAS A CHALLENGE, TO GO AND LEAVE THE DESTRUCTION BEHIND. The sky deepened into a somber shade of dusk as you and Satoru finally reached the estate’s edge. The once proud gates, symbols of security and honor, now stood twisted and mangled, crumpled by the sheer force of nature’s wrath.
Beyond the gates, the town stretched out in a nightmare of ruin—buildings reduced to heaps of rubble, streets fractured and littered with debris, and the air thick with the lingering scent of smoke and dust. The cries of the wounded and the wails of those searching for lost loved ones echoed through the broken streets, a chorus of despair that filled the silence left in the wake of destruction.
“Keep your head high,” Satoru urged, his voice low but firm as he tightened his grip on your hand. “Don’t look. Just… don’t.”
But it was impossible not to look. How could you not see the devastation, shared by all? Every corner of the town had been touched by this catastrophe, and every person who remained alive carried the weight of loss. It was a destruction understood by all, but none more deeply than you at that moment.
The memory of your home—once filled with laughter, warmth, and the presence of family—now lay in ruins. Your parents, your siblings… their fates were unknown, swallowed by the chaos. You hadn’t seen them, and the hope of finding them alive was growing fainter with every passing moment. Satoru’s words rang hollow in your ears, even as you clung to his hand for strength.
He guided you through the crumbling streets with a fierce determination, always positioning himself between you and the worst of the wreckage. The buildings, once grand and vibrant, had become tombs of stone and wood, each step revealing more of the town’s shattered soul. Bodies lay strewn across the ground, some half-buried in rubble, others left untouched by the debris but claimed by the quake nonetheless. It was too much, too overwhelming.
Every time you stumbled, your legs trembling with fatigue and grief, Satoru was there, catching you before you could fall. His presence was like an anchor, keeping you steady amid the storm of devastation that swirled around you. His hand never left yours, his touch a silent promise that you weren’t alone in this. You didn’t have to face it all by yourself.
The survivors—those who had managed to escape the collapse of buildings or who had emerged from the wreckage—followed behind you, a somber procession of hollow eyes and ashen faces. Their steps were slow, heavy with the weight of shock. No words passed between them, no cries for help—only silence and the occasional sob as they moved like ghosts through the streets, trying to find some semblance of safety, of life, in this broken world.
Your heart ached for them, for their pain, but your own grief consumed you. The memory of your family’s voices, the warmth of your home, felt so distant now, like a dream you had just woken from. And yet, with each step you took beside Satoru, you realized that this nightmare was real, and there was no waking from it.
The earth beneath your feet still trembled occasionally, aftershocks reminding you that the worst might not yet be over. Each tremor sent a fresh wave of fear through your body, your grip tightening around Satoru’s hand. He responded in kind, his hand strong and reassuring, though you could sense the turmoil roiling beneath his calm exterior. His family, too, was somewhere in this mess. Their fate hung in the balance just as much as yours.
As you made your way through the gates, leaving behind the wreckage of your estate, you couldn’t help but glance back one final time. The place where you had grown up, where you had shared laughter, joy, and the news of your engagement just hours ago, was now unrecognizable. In the span of mere moments, everything you had known had been reduced to rubble, leaving behind only echoes of the life you had once cherished.
“Satoru…” your voice cracked as you spoke his name, the words barely audible over the distant cries. He stopped, turning to look at you, his eyes softening with concern.
“I know,” he whispered, his hand brushing against your cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall unnoticed. “I know it’s hard. But we’ll make it through this. We have to.”
His resolve was unshakable, but you could see the grief hidden behind his determination. He was trying to be strong, not just for himself, but for you. His family’s estate lay ahead, yet you both feared what you would find when you arrived.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the land in shadow, you continued onward, the fire of Satoru’s presence the only thing keeping you from sinking into despair. The path was treacherous, littered with fallen beams and shattered stone, but Satoru led the way with careful, deliberate steps. He kept you close, his arm around your waist now, guiding you over the broken streets as you navigated what felt like the remains of the world.
Every glance revealed more heartache—broken homes, toppled lanterns, and the pale, lifeless faces of those who hadn’t made it. But Satoru never let you linger, gently urging you forward each time your gaze began to drift toward the horror around you.
Finally, you reached his family’s estate. Or what remained of it. The grand structure that had once stood proud and formidable was now a heap of collapsed roofs and shattered walls. The once beautiful garden, where you had shared many moments of happiness, was now a twisted, chaotic mess of uprooted trees and scorched earth.
Satoru stood still for a moment, his eyes scanning the destruction with a silent, composed fury. The pain was etched into his expression, though he quickly masked it as he turned to you, his voice low but firm.
"We’ll make it through tonight," he said. "We have to survive, no matter what."
In that moment, even as the world crumbled around you, there was no fear in his eyes—only determination. For now, all you could do was follow him. Follow him through the darkness, trusting that somewhere, beyond the destruction, hope still lingered. 
As you finally reached the outskirts of the Gojo estate, the enormity of the destruction hit you again. The town below had not been spared either. Smoke rose in the distance, and the ground was littered with rubble, buildings half-collapsed, and people wandering aimlessly, searching for loved ones.
Satoru didn’t hesitate. He pulled you forward, his grip never loosening as he led you through the streets toward his family’s home. But when you arrived, the sight that greeted you was even more devastating.
His family estate, much like your own, had been reduced to little more than a broken shell. The grand gates had collapsed, and the once beautiful gardens were torn apart, now little more than mounds of earth and stone. The house itself had fared no better, with parts of the roof caved in and walls shattered.
Satoru’s face paled as he took it all in, his hand tightening around yours in a desperate attempt to remain calm. But you could see it in his eyes—the grief, the disbelief. This was his home. His family. And now, it is gone.
For a long moment, he stood still, his gaze fixed on the destruction before him. His breathing was shallow, his grip on your hand tightening almost painfully. But then, with a sharp breath, he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively.
As you both began your journey toward the Gojo family estate, the weight of the day settled heavily on your shoulders. But Satoru’s hand never let go of yours, a silent promise that even in the face of unimaginable loss, you would survive this—together.
When you and Satoru finally reached the outskirts of his family estate, the sinking feeling in your chest returned with full force. What should have been a place of refuge, a sanctuary from the horrors you had just fled, was nothing but devastation. The Gojo estate, once majestic and proud, had fallen to the same fate as your home.
The gates were twisted and mangled, barely hanging from their hinges, and the walls that had once stood tall now lay in heaps of rubble. Smoke rose from what remained of the manor, a bitter scent of burning wood and stone hanging in the air. The destruction was so complete, so absolute, that it felt like the very earth had swallowed everything whole. The silence was deafening.
Gojo Satoru froze at the sight, his grip on your hand tightening until it almost hurt. You looked up at him, but his expression was unreadable, his usual brightness dulled to a vacant stare. His family, his home....everything he had known, everything he had grown up with. All was gone. Nothing was left but the earth where it all once stood.
You tried to say something, to offer words of comfort, but the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. More tears could only pour out of your eyes from then on. All you could do was squeeze his hand, hoping he would feel your silent support. He didn't need to hear your words right now; he just needed to know you were there.
For a moment, he stood motionless, his blue eyes scanning the destruction as if trying to comprehend it, trying to find any sign of life among the wreckage. But there was nothing. Just like at your estate, the earthquake had consumed everything.
Finally, Satoru exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. But even in his grief, he didn’t break. He couldn’t—not with you depending on him. He glanced down at you, his eyes softening with a kind of sadness you had never seen in him before. 
Satoru stopped for a moment, turning to you with a look of determination in his eyes. “We’ll make it through this,” he promised, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the fear he was trying so hard to hide. “We’ll get some place safe here, and I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you again. You hear me?”
You nodded, though the world felt unsteady beneath you. The future that once seemed so bright, the engagement that had filled your heart with hope, now felt overshadowed by the tragedy that had befallen your lives. Still, with Satoru’s hand wrapped securely around yours, you knew one thing for certain—no matter what came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.
“We need to stay warm tonight.” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not safe to wander around in the dark. We’ll make a fire here, and then tomorrow, we’ll figure out what to do.”
He led you to a relatively clear patch of ground, away from the worst of the rubble. The sky was darkening, and the air had grown cold, a biting wind cutting through your torn clothes. Satoru quickly set to work, gathering what dry wood he could find, his movements steady and focused despite the grief that must have been tearing him apart inside.
You watched him in silence, too exhausted to help, too numb from everything that had happened. When the fire finally sparked to life, its warmth was a welcome reprieve from the cold that had settled deep into your bones. You sat beside him, huddled close to the flickering flames, the only source of light in the endless night.
Your Satoru didn’t speak for a long time. He simply stared into the fire, his expression distant, lost in thoughts you couldn’t fathom. His hands, usually so relaxed and playful, were tense, gripping his knees as if he were holding himself together by sheer force of will.
But then he turned to you, his gaze softening when he saw the exhaustion written on your face. Without a word, he pulled his outer robe from his shoulders and wrapped it around you, tucking it gently against your chin. He tried to do it, smiling like nothing happened. As though to comfort you even in all this suffering. And yet, you could see it all in his eyes. He was exhausted, he was in pain. And he didn’t know what to do.
“Sleep, my beloved.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep watch.”
You wanted to protest, to tell him that he needed rest just as much as you did, but your body betrayed you. The exhaustion, the grief, the sheer weight of everything you had been through—it was too much. You nodded weakly, laying your head against his shoulder as you curled into the warmth of the robe.
Satoru shifted slightly, easing you into a more comfortable position so you could lie down near the fire. His hand rested on your arm, a protective gesture that reminded you of his earlier promise. Even as the world fell apart around you, Satoru Gojo was still there, watching over you.
As you drifted off to sleep, lulled by the crackling of the fire and the steady rise and fall of his breathing, Satoru leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. His lips lingered there for a moment, as if he were afraid to pull away, afraid that something might take you from him if he let go.
“I’ll keep you safe, my beloved.” he whispered against your hair, his voice trembling with the weight of his vow. “No matter what happens. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
The fire flickered, casting shadows across his face, but his resolve was unshakable. He couldn’t save everything—his home, his family—but he would save you. That much, he was certain of.
As you slept, Gojo Satoru remained awake, his eyes scanning the horizon, alert for any sign of danger. The devastation around him was complete, but his focus never wavered from you. You were his world now, the one thing he had left in the midst of the ruin.
The night stretched on, cold and unforgiving, but Satoru didn’t move from his spot by your side. Even as the grief gnawed at him, even as the weight of everything he had lost threatened to crush him, he stayed strong. For you. Because no matter what came next, no matter how uncertain the future had become, Gojo Satoru had made a promise—and he would keep it.
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THE YEAR 2018 WAS AN INTERESTING YEAR FOR DISCOVERIES. You remember reading about it in the newspaper on your way to university—the discovery of two lovers found in an eternal embrace, huddled together in a shoreline cave, their bodies preserved for three hundred years by the elements that had claimed their lives. 
The volcanic eruption, the earthquake, and the tsunami that had ravaged Japan centuries ago were some of the worst disasters the country had ever known, obliterating entire villages and swallowing countless lives in an instant. And yet, even in the face of such unimaginable destruction, these two had remained together, their bond undisturbed by the passage of time.
Standing quietly in front of the memorial, you felt the weight of their story settle around you. The air was still and somber, carrying with it the distant hum of waves crashing along the shore. The stone monument before you was simple yet profound—a silent marker of the love these two souls had shared, a love that had endured in the most unimaginable of circumstances. Their bodies had been found in the ruins of a household long buried by the mud and debris, a household much like the ones surrounding this coastline, now reduced to scattered memories.
You had followed the story from the beginning—the day the archaeologists uncovered them from the earth, the painstaking care they took in revealing the remains. The headlines had drawn attention, not because of the tragedy alone, but because of the story those two bodies told.
There were no names. No clues as to who they had been, what their lives had looked like before the disaster struck, or even how they had ended up in each other’s arms when the end came. But it didn’t matter. Their identities weren’t needed to understand the significance of what had been found. What mattered was that they had faced their final moments without fear. They had faced the end together, with love.
It was that thought—the resilience of love in the face of overwhelming disaster—that had touched you most deeply. In a world where so much is fragile and fleeting, the strength of their connection had remained, even after centuries had passed. It was as if their love had transcended the destruction, as if they had chosen to defy the disaster by holding on to one another in their last breath.
You stepped forward, placing your hands together in silent prayer. You wished them peace, a kind of peace that transcended the tragedy of their death, that honored the love they had shared.
You prayed that their spirits had found rest, and that wherever they were now, they were still together, watching over the place where they had once stood. The offering you placed at the memorial was simple, a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, symbolizing purity and remembrance.
"I pray that you'll always be together, the two of you." you murmured, your voice soft, barely louder than the breeze that rustled through the trees around the monument. "Wherever you are, I hope you’ve found peace, and that your love is still as strong as it was in those last moments."
You stayed there for a while, the silence of the memorial surrounding you, offering its quiet comfort. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the scene, a contrast to the deep sense of loss the place carried. But you didn’t feel sadness. Instead, there was something almost beautiful about it—knowing that even in the face of disaster, these two had been together, and their love had transcended time. As you prepared to leave, footsteps approached from behind. You turned slightly, curious to see who else had come to visit this quiet, forgotten place.
A man with striking white hair and bright blue eyes under the rim of his glasses stood at the edge of the memorial, his head bowed in silent prayer. He was tall, his presence commanding even though he moved with a quiet grace. His features were sharp, but softened by a kind of deep, unspoken sorrow. He knelt down beside the monument, laying a single white flower on the stone, his fingers brushing the surface with reverence.
You watched him for a moment, feeling an inexplicable sense of familiarity, though you couldn’t quite place it. The way he stood there—tall and composed, with an air of quiet reverence that just seemed to draw you in.
There was something almost ethereal about him, as if he was intrinsically linked to the story of the lovers you had come to honor. The connection felt deeper than mere coincidence, as though his presence was a significant part of the narrative that had touched you so profoundly.
His white hair glowed softly in the fading light, and his posture was relaxed yet dignified, embodying a calmness that contrasted sharply with the turmoil you had felt as you reflected on the lovers’ fate.
His eyes were closed in prayer, his face serene, as if he was offering a deeply personal tribute to the souls who had been found together in their final moments. The sense of connection was so strong that you could almost feel it emanating from him, a silent bridge spanning the centuries between his presence and the lovers' tragic end.
You hesitated, not wanting to intrude on his moment of solitude. Yet, there was something compelling about the situation—an unspoken invitation to acknowledge the shared significance of this place and the story that bound them all together. Your curiosity and empathy drove you to speak, despite the quietude that hung between you.
“Excuse me.” you began softly, breaking the stillness of the memorial. Your voice was gentle, barely a whisper against the backdrop of the crashing waves. “I couldn’t help but notice… There's something about you that feels so familiar, so connected to this place. I… I’ve been deeply moved by the story of the lovers found here, and I can’t shake the feeling that you share a connection with them.”
The man turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and understanding. He seemed to consider your words for a moment, his expression thoughtful and measured. There was a softness in his gaze, as if he had been waiting for this moment, this conversation, even if he didn’t quite know why.
“Oh.” Gojo Satoru whispered back, his cheeks tinged with a flush of surprise, as if your words had caught him off guard. He seemed momentarily at a loss, his usual confidence replaced with a bashful vulnerability. “Yeah, I… I saw the news, and I thought, I just had to come. It felt… it just felt right, you know? To come here and see them off, to wish them well.”
There was a sincerity in his voice, a raw honesty that struck a chord. You could see that this wasn’t just a casual visit for him; it was something deeply personal, a moment of reflection and respect that went beyond mere curiosity.
“I see…” you mumbled, your gaze softening as you looked at him. A smile slowly spread across your face, touched by his heartfelt gesture. “That’s kind of you to do.”
Gojo Satoru shook his head slightly, a rueful smile on his lips. “Ah, not… not really,” he said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “If anything, I think you were more kind. You brought them white chrysanthemums and everything. You probably had more of a proper prayer for them than I did.”
You waved off his comment with a small laugh, the sound light and airy in the quiet of the memorial. “Oh, not at all. I think… I think your intention was purer than mine. You came here just on a feeling, an instinct that something was right about being here. I was… I was interested historically before I was here emotionally, you know?”
His eyes met yours, a flicker of understanding passing between you. “I guess we both had our reasons,” he said softly. “But in the end, it’s the connection that matters. Whether we came here out of personal feelings or historical interest, it’s our respect and acknowledgement that count.”
You nodded, feeling a shared sense of purpose in your conversation. There was something profoundly meaningful about how your paths had crossed at this place, driven by a mutual respect for the story of the lovers and a desire to honor their memory. The distinction between your reasons for being here seemed to dissolve in the face of a greater truth—that both of you were here because of a deep-seated respect and a wish to pay tribute to the enduring power of love.
“So……” Gojo continued, a slight smile returning to his lips, “I’m glad we met here. It feels like the right place for this kind of encounter, don’t you think?”
You agreed, feeling a warmth in his words. “Yes, it does. It’s like the universe brought us together in this moment to remind us of something important.”
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, something like that. It’s nice to know that even after so much time, and despite all the changes and challenges we face, there are still moments that can bring people together in such a profound way.”
You stood together in silence for a moment, the weight of your shared understanding settling around you. The memorial continued to stand as homage to the lovers’ eternal bond, and in that quiet, sacred space, you felt a connection that transcended all the limits given by the bountiful universe.
“They were together until the very end.” you said softly, your voice carried by the gentle wind. “I hope they’re still together, wherever they are.”
The tall man took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. For a moment, his blue gaze seemed distant, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far beyond the present. But then his lips curled into a small, sad smile. 
“They will be, you know?” he replied quietly, his voice deep and filled with a quiet conviction. “Some loves are strong enough to last forever. They…they transcend, even time.”
There was something in his tone, a weight to his words, that made you wonder if he was speaking from experience. You gave him a respectful nod, choosing not to pry into the emotions that seemed to flicker beneath his calm exterior.
The two of you stood there in silence for a while longer, both paying your respects to the nameless lovers who had defied death with their love. The sun continued to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the memorial. Finally, the man rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes before turning to you.
“Take care, stranger.” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the sorrow that had lingered moments before. Then, with one last look at the monument, he began to walk away, his white hair catching the fading light like a beacon.
As you watched him go, something tugged at your heart. You didn’t know who he was, but in that moment, you felt as though you had shared something important with him—an unspoken understanding of love and loss, of holding on to someone even when the world falls apart around you. 
Somehow, there was something stirring within you—a feeling that you couldn’t let him just walk away, not without knowing more. There was something about him, an invisible thread connecting you, as if fate had brought you both to this quiet place for a reason.
"Wait! Hey, mister!" you called out softly, taking a few steps toward him. The man paused, turning back to face you, his expression curious but calm.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. But then, with a gentle smile, you extended your hand. "I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself. My name is……"
He looked at you for a moment, as if weighing whether to reciprocate. Then, with a small, almost teasing smile, he took your hand in his. His grip was warm, steady, and comforting in a way that felt strangely familiar.
"I'm Gojo Satoru." he said, his voice smooth, yet laced with something deeper, as if his name carried a history he didn’t fully reveal.
The name hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, you felt a flicker of recognition. But it was fleeting, gone as quickly as it had come. You smiled politely, though something about the way he said it, the way his gaze softened as he looked at you, made you feel like there was more to his introduction than simple formality.
"It's nice to meet you, Satoru." you replied, feeling a strange sense of ease as you spoke his name. There was something about the way it rolled off your tongue, as if you'd said it a thousand times before.
He tilted his head slightly, his sharp, crystal-blue eyes studying you with an intensity that was both disarming and oddly reassuring. It was as if he could see beneath the surface, understanding more than what was immediately apparent. Yet, instead of feeling exposed, you felt a sense of comfort, a silent acknowledgment that he grasped the depths of your emotions and thoughts.
With a gentle, almost shy smile, Gojo Satoru reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, extending it toward you. “Put your number in,” he said, his voice tender and inviting. “I think… I think you know more about this story than I do. I’d like to know more, if you’re willing to share.”
You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the request, but the sincerity in his voice and the warmth of his smile compelled you to act. With a nod, you took his phone from him and began to enter your contact information, a small flutter of excitement rising in your chest. There was something intriguing about the prospect of continuing this conversation, of sharing more about the story that had brought you both here.
When you handed his phone back to him, a playful grin appeared on your face. “It’s your turn,” you said, taking out your own phone and extending it toward him.
Gojo Satoru chuckled softly, his eyes lighting up with amusement as he looked at your phone. “Well, alright.” he said, taking it with a mock sigh of resignation. “If you insist.”
As he entered his number into your phone, the atmosphere between you shifted from one of solemn reflection to one of friendly connection. The small act of exchanging numbers felt like a bridge, linking your shared experience at the memorial with the potential for future conversations and deeper understanding. Maybe, just maybe — you’ll understand life the way these two in front of you did. Just maybe.
When he handed your phone back to you, he looked at you with a genuine smile. “Thanks for sharing this moment with me. It’s been… meaningful. I’m glad we crossed paths today.”
You smiled back, feeling a warmth in your chest that came from more than just the shared experience. “I’m glad too. It’s not every day you meet someone who understands the significance of something like this so deeply.”
Finally, Satoru spoke again, his tone lightening slightly. "Well, I should be going. The train is leaving soon. But... It was nice meeting you." He paused, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Maybe we’ll see each other again."
You smiled, feeling the same unspoken connection. "I’d like that."
With one last look at the memorial, Satoru turned and began to walk away, his white hair catching the fading light of the day. You watched him go, a strange sense of calm settling over you.
As you stood there, the weight of the lovers' story still fresh in your heart, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time you would see Gojo Satoru. Something told you that your paths would cross again, in ways you couldn’t yet predict.
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the memorial, you whispered one final prayer—not just for the nameless lovers, but for yourself, and perhaps for Satoru too.
"May we all find each other, in every lifetime."
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masonmontz · 18 hours
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hellooo everyone :) hope you like it
REMEMBER: english is not my first language
angst word count: 9,5k
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“Y/N has a new boyfriend” Declan spoke and silence was the response he received. Mason felt his heart skip a beat and then fall to the floor, causing Mason to get a lump in his throat.
He just stared at Dec, trying to swallow the food he had put in his mouth before hearing the news. It took a lot of effort to swallow.
“I’m not hungry anymore” Mason pushed the plate away, feeling the strange sensation in his stomach, the same feeling that kept him awake at night. 
Lauren looked at him with pity and Mason felt like an idiot. Declan cleared his throat, realizing he shouldn't have told Mason the news, but what could he do if you were friends with him and Lauren too?
“Sorry mate, I shouldn't have said that” Declan apologized to Mason, but he shrugged it off, not placing the blame on Declan. 
“Who is the guy?” Reece asked, because after all he is also your friend. The restaurant seemed silent with the awkward atmosphere that remained at the table and Mason just stared at the plate he barely touched. 
“David. They work together” Lauren spoke and Mason looked at her, but Lauren was already looking at him waiting for Mason's reaction. Mason looked down and felt everyone's eyes on him, Dec, Lauren, Ben, Reece, Aimee and Henry. 
Mason felt like he was a bomb about to explode and everyone wanted to see the moment it happened.
“Sorry guys, I’m going home” Mason got up quickly and without looking at his friends, ‘cause he already knew that everyone noticed how affected he was by the news that you were dating, but he didn't want to see the pity in everyone's eyes. “Declan, pay my portion and I'll give you the money later.”
Mason left the restaurant quickly, but he heard Aimee's heels behind him and he sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to outrun the stubborn woman running after him. 
“Mase, wait-” she called him, and Mason only stopped walking when he felt the cold air on his face, needing some fresh air. “Hey.”
“I can't take this anymore, Aimee. I can't” Mason's voice was cracked, and the state he had been in for almost two months was deplorable. “She left me in the shit.”
Mason knows that Aimee is your best friend and he knows that you two talk daily, but he needs to talk to someone ‘cause Mason feels like at any moment he will reach his breaking point. 
His eyes filled with tears, and he was looking out into the cold night but Aimee could see his eyes were wet. 
“I'm so sorry, Mase. I tried to talk to her about it but she won't let me” Aimee hugged Mason from the side, putting her arms around his shoulders, even though he was taller than her. 
Mason looked at her devastated, and Aimee felt her own heart ache at the sadness on Mason's face.
“I really can't take this anymore, it's too much for me, Aim” Mason sighed and brought his hands to his face, because he still felt his heart tighten in his chest, he wasn't hungry and he felt like he could vomit ‘cause of the emotions that were going through him.
He missed you.
He was sad.
He was alone.
And you left.
“You know you can talk to all of us, right? We're your friends, Mason, and you can run to us whenever you need to. You don't have to deal with all of this alone” Aimee held his hand and Mason nodded, but he knew Aimee had been busy lately because she was planning her own wedding with Henry, but she was so nice that she offered to be Mason's support since you left.
“I know, thank you” Mason tried to smile, but he knew he gave the saddest smile anyone had ever seen. “Tell them I apologized for ditching dinner.”
“Don’t worry, but please, take care of yourself.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
You and Mason have been friends for years, you met in school and you had some friends in common. Everyone knew that Mason had been in love with you since you were a teenager, but you were never able to see him as anything more than a great friend. Not since the night you kissed for the first time.
You also knew that Mason was in love with you, but sometimes things don't happen the way we want, and even though he always treated you much better than your boyfriends, there was nothing you could do if you didn't like him back.
The night you were celebrating your twenty-fourth birthday in a place where all your friends were was when Mason decided to make the first move. 
He asked to deliver the gift he bought for you away from the others, and he gave you the most beautiful bracelet you had ever seen, it was gold and had your initial as a pendant, but it also had shells and stars, books, teacups and everything you liked the most. It was so delicate that you were moved when you realized how much Mason knew you.
When you hugged and thanked him that's when Mason kissed you, and that's okay, at that moment you didn't care and kissed him back. It was terrible to realize that that was the best kiss you had ever had, no one had ever kissed you so intensely, with so much love and passion.
Your mistake was going home with him after the party, ‘cause Mason was all over you the whole night and everyone could tell something was up, and you were also wrong for kissing him back every time, maybe giving Mason hope that it all meant something. 
At first it didn't really mean anything, but after weeks of having sex with him, even you who had an impenetrable heart found yourself attracted and in love with him. Mason made you smile, Mason treated you well and always put you first, and when you realized that, you also realized that you never put him first. And you never would.
You were working so hard at work to get the job the company was offering in Australia that it wouldn't be fair to him ‘cause you wouldn't be able to give him what he deserves if you had to move. 
Mason didn't accept staying away, so he said he didn't care if you didn't give a name to what you had. You weren't just friends but you weren't dating either, you knew his parents but not as his girlfriend, and Mason accompanied you everywhere just as... someone you were sleeping with. That was it.
For months it was like this. It was your house that Mason went to after games, it was you he called when he lost a game and wanted comfort from someone he loved or when they won and he wanted to celebrate with someone. You, always you, no one else. 
Mason loved you so much that he felt his heart jump with joy every time someone said your name or when he saw a message from you on his phone. Everyone thought you were his girlfriend, but Mason was too embarrassed to tell you that you weren't his girlfriend. Even he couldn't understand what was going on between you, so imagine telling others.
But your time was limited, and everyone knew it.
Almost a year later you received the proposal you had dreamed of for so long, and you were so happy that the idea of ​​leaving England wasn't scary at all, it was wonderful. You only told your parents at first, then Aimee ten days before you left. 
You didn't know how to tell him that you were moving, especially since you knew Mason wouldn't handle it very well. He was injured and had some problems with his Chelsea contract, and Mason was looking to you every day for comfort to feel good. 
He found out before you could tell him, and only because you left the plane ticket where he could see it, but it wasn't intentional, you just forgot to put it away. You still remember his face when Mason turned to you with the ticket in his hand, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized the argument was closer than you thought.
“Why do you have a plane ticket to Australia?” He asked quietly, but deep down you knew Mason knew what it meant. 
You couldn't lie to him anymore and you had to be honest, no matter how much it hurt.
“Cause I’m moving to Australia” Mason looked at the paper in his hand once more, probably wanting to see the date. The day you would leave.
“In ten days?” You just nodded, sighing when you saw Mason’s lip tremble. He put the paper back where he had found it and stared at you. “And when were you going to tell me? When you were getting on the plane?”
“I was planning on telling you right away, you weren't supposed to find out like this.” 
“It wouldn't hurt any less if you had told me sooner. How long have you known you were moving?”
“Almost two months” Mason agreed and you could see a piece of his heart break, then another and another. “C’mon, let's talk about it.”
You held out your hand to Mason, but he didn't take it and just stood there staring at you. You walked over to him and grabbed his hand, pulling him onto the couch with you. Mason sat on the couch and you knelt on the floor in front of him, resting your arms on his knee as he stared at you in so much pain that you felt your heart clench.
“Mase, you know how much I wanted this job, I worked really hard for this transfer and I finally got it” you explained to him, gently stroking his leg. “Don't be mad at me, but we knew I would have to move if I got the job.”
“It's not that I didn't want you to get the job, I just didn't think it would happen, it seemed so far away and you didn't tell me. I'm the last to know” he spoke, staring at his hands without looking at you, but you brought your hand to his chin and made him look at you. “And we both know that our relationship isn't going to work out.”
“We just don't date because you don't want to, if it were up to me you know you'd be my girlfriend” he spoke softly and you sighed, knowing it was true.
“Mase, I know you have a crush on me and yeah, I have a crush on you but-”
“Y/N, I don’t have a crush on you, I’m in love with you. I love you” he said and you felt your heart race ‘cause you never let Mason confess his feelings to you, and you knew that what he felt was much bigger. “How can you say that I have a crush on you when I've been doing everything for you for almost a year? It's not fair to me.”
“Well, I never asked you to do anything for me. Mason, I'm sorry, but I also never promised to offer you more than I already do” you got up from the floor and sat next to him, but Mason continued to stare at the floor in front of him.
“I love you and I've loved you since before I kissed you for the first time, how funny is that? And even after months of sleeping next to you, having sex, wanting to be good enough for you, you don't feel anything for me? How can you be so cold?” 
“I never wanted this relationship to go ahead ‘cause I always hoped to go to Australia. You've got Chelsea, you've got enough women to last you the rest of your life, live it, Mason.” 
“I don't want any other woman, it's always been you, Y/N. It's always been you, and you acting like it's nothing is what hurts me the most” a tear ran down Mason's face, but he quickly wiped it away, which was in vain because he couldn't stop other tears from falling, and before you knew it Mason was crying, sobbing. “Why are you doing this to me?”
You didn't know how to respond, so you stayed silent as you watched Mason cry. And the scene was sad, because there was nothing you could do to comfort him, what was done was done.
“I will wait for you to come back” he whispered, and then turned his face to look at you.
“Mason, that’s the point. I don’t know if I will ever come back. What if I like Australia? Or if I find someone there?” At that moment Mason felt like he was going to have a panic attack, and he was sure he was running out of air to breathe. “Go and live your life and forget about me, that's what I'm asking.”
“I can’t do this, Y/N. I can’t. I love you and I have loved you since I was eighteen, how can you ask me to forget you? How can you ask me to forget you after sharing so much of myself with you?” He stood up, putting his hands in his hair and breathing quickly.
“Don't forget me then, but I won't promise you that I'll come back.” 
“How can you pretend you don't feel anything for me? You can confess it, no one has to know.” 
“Because I don’t love you back.” You said it, and even Mason knew it was a lie, but it still hurt.
“You do. Don’t lie. If you don’t love me you shouldn’t act like you do” he said between sobs. “Don’t do this to me, please. I’m begging you to stay.”
“I already made my decision long ago, you're not going to change that Mason” you spoke with a lump in your throat, wanting to cry but refusing to cry in front of him and making things more difficult. 
“Just say you love me back” he begged, and Mason looked like the saddest man you'd ever seen.
“I'm not going to say anything ‘cause things can't get any harder than they already are. Everything it's over between us, Mason. In ten days I'm going to Australia and you're going to stay here and conquer the world. Without me.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
Mason sighed as he entered his quiet London flat. It was strange to return to a place that had once been the place he considered home, but now London was no longer his home, and neither was Manchester. 
Because the place Mason considered home for a long time was in Australia, and now it was someone else's home.
Mason was going crazy and he was sure of it, but he swears that when he threw himself on the bed where you used to lie he smelled your perfume. That's where Mason broke down.
“Why did you do this to me, Y/N?” He spoke to himself, closing his eyes and feeling the tears run down his neck ‘cause he was lying down. A sob escaped his lips, it was the first time he had cried since the last time he saw you and Mason realized that he didn't know how to deal with the things that were happening in his life.
His contract with Chelsea ended and Mason joined Manchester United, but he was far from a happy man. Even with so many insults and threats, he didn't cry once, and every smile he gave when he went to Manchester United was fake. 
Mason was just surviving and doing whatever he was told to do, ‘cause all his thoughts were about you, from the moment he woke up in the morning until the time he lay down to sleep. 
And Mason even had the false idea that you were also thinking about him, but no, because now you have a boyfriend. Mason feels his own body heat up with anger when he thinks about another man touching you, kissing you in the same way he did. 
Mason's phone vibrated in his pocket, and he sighed because he didn't want to look at the message. And it was something that had become a habit for him, if no message was from you, why would he be excited to receive one?
But he still picked up his phone to check and was not at all surprised to see Aimee's message.
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Mason threw his phone on the mattress, looking around the room and seeing that you hadn't left anything there, not even a sock, and it was as if you had never entered that room. 
The worst part is that every time Mason saw Aimee he remembered that you two were always together too, because you were like twins, you were always together and did the same things. He also heard that you and Aimee had a falling out over your decision to move to Australia, but had talked things through before you traveled.
Y/N has a new boyfriend. Declan's voice crossed Mason's mind again, and that phrase had been haunting him ever since he heard it. 
Mason knew you loved him, he could see it in the touches, the looks and even the secrets you shared with each other. You were too stubborn to tell him that, and Mason knew it wasn't fair to ask you to give up on a dream, but he wished he could have heard at least once the three words he always wanted to hear from your lips. Just once was enough, because then Mason would know that all those months together had been worth it.
Mason can't understand how you don't miss him, someone you shared everything with until months ago and now he's a stranger. How can you not miss him when Mason has been missing you even when he's sleeping? Don't you miss him when you're taking a shower with your new boyfriend? The thought makes Mason want to vomit.
But now you have a boyfriend and it's him you say I love you to, it's him who asks to hold your hand, it's him who admires you sleeping.
Mason didn't know it was possible to feel so jealous of someone while having a broken heart. It's been five months since you left and Mason feels like his heart hurts more every day, and he doesn't know how long it will take for him to heal.
He needs to forget you ‘cause you've definitely already forgotten him, but he doesn't know how. Mason discovered that he needs you the same way he needs air to breathe. 
But you moved on and Mason moved on with a broken heart, in a helpless state, and even though he'll never open up to anyone the way he did to you, at some point that pain has to pass.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹ 3 months later ✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“No, I didn't forget the dress, mum” you said in a phone call walking through the London airport while talking to your mother. She was traveling to Ireland and wouldn't be back until next week, so you were alone for the next few days. “Yes, I will wait for you to come back, you know I will stay in England for twenty days. I know. Yes, I will. Bye, I love you too.”
You almost groaned at the amount of people walking around London airport, and it would be much harder to find Aimee than you thought. After eight months, you are back in the rainy, cold weather of England, and you missed it so much that you felt like you could cry at any moment.
Aimee and Henry's wedding is in three days, and that's why you've brought yourself back to England, ‘cause you wouldn't miss it for anything. 
Australia is a great place to live and you love your job there, you've made some friends but... Australia is not London. 
“Y/N!” You heard Aimee's voice before you even saw her, and your eyes filled with tears when you saw her waiting for you at the airport exit. It was like a scene from a movie, but you ran and hugged each other while you cried.
“How can you go and live far away from me? My God, I hate you, I was dying missing you” she cried, and you didn't let go of each other for long minutes. “Did you miss me?”
“Of course I missed you” you wiped the tear from your tear-streaked face, and it was impossible to stop smiling when you knew you were home again. “You look so beautiful. How is everyone? Are you looking forward to the wedding?”
“I can't believe I'm without my best friend when I get married, let's start there. And yes, everyone is fine, everyone is excited to see you again” you and Aimee walked towards the airport exit carrying your bags, and the reception you received was heavy rain at the exit. Nothing better than being in England.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“I heard you have a boyfriend in Australia” Henry said with a smirk on his mouth, and you blushed. “Why didn't you bring him?”
“First, we’re just having sex, he’s not my boyfriend. Second, why would I bring him to your wedding?” You put a piece of pizza in your mouth, wanting to ignore what they were talking about. 
Josh wasn't really your boyfriend, you worked together and enjoyed being together, but he was in love with someone else and you knew it, so you never wanted anything from him. Your heart was only half in Australia too.
“And what was that photo you posted on Instagram months ago?” Aimee asked and you looked angry at her. They were nosy and wouldn't change.
“He mentioned me in his stories, what could I do?” You shrugged it off, because it really wasn't that big of a deal.
“Everyone saw it” Henry said, and he emphasized when he said “everyone”. 
You looked at him and thought of Mason. In fact, Mason hadn't left your thoughts for months, he was what you thought about twenty-four hours a day. You looked at the table without looking at the two of them, and even though you didn't want to show that you cared about Mason, they were able to read your face like a book.
“You know he's coming to the wedding, right?” Aimee asked and you agreed. “It's the international break and he has a few days off, he'll be in London during those days.” 
“I know.” 
You were nervous about seeing Mason again after so long, even more because you left without saying what he wanted so bad to hear. 
It wasn't fair to confess your feelings when you were moving to the other side of the world. It wasn't fair to him and it wasn't fair to you, that's why even after so many months with him and knowing how much he loved you, you refused to tell him how you felt about him, because you knew it would be worse.
Deep down you know that if he brings someone else it will hurt, but you can't feel hurt when it was your decision. Maybe, just maybe, if Mason is over you it means that going back to Australia and moving on is the best option, even if you feel incomplete. 
God, it's so hard to love someone and want to do the right thing.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“Should I wear red lingerie?” Aimee asked and you looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“You’re not supposed to have sex until the wedding” you looked at yourself in the mirror, admiring your bare legs in the long-sleeved black dress. “Do I look hotter or is it just me?”
“You are hot, baby.” 
You and Aimee are getting ready for her bachelorette party at a club in London, one you used to go to as teenagers. She's invited her bridesmaids and other friends, and it's sure to be an amazing night.
You can't believe your best friend is getting married. 
The club was full of people, the music was lively and soon you found the place reserved for Aimee's bachelor party, because there were balloons, glitter, feathers and lots of pink and white.
In Australia you made some friends but it was different being with the people you grew up with, who know you inside out and like the same things as you. 
Aimee cried every fifteen minutes when she remembered that she was going to marry the love of her life in two days, and in the end someone always cried with emotion with her. She and Henry loved each other since they met, it was incredible to see how well they worked together, how much Henry treated her well or did everything for her.
You always wanted someone like that by your side.
As you watched Aimee talk to Kylie, probably about the wedding or about Henry, you remembered that you had a person like that for you.
And you ruined everything. 
You felt your heart skip a beat when you thought about Mason again, and even after the drinks you had already had, you felt sad when you remembered that besides pushing Mason out of your life, you were also alone.
A few months ago, before you moved, you asked your mother how she knew that Richard, your stepfather, was the right person for her. She and your father had a bad marriage and she was not happy, and you and your sister suffered the consequences of that failed marriage, but with Richard she was glowing with happiness.
“It needs to be someone special.” 
Someone who doesn't argue with you, someone who celebrates the little things, someone who makes you happy most days. Happiness isn't eternal but it's moments, and if someone makes you sad more than happy, there's something wrong.
You had someone special, and you realized it when you stared into that empty, silent apartment in Australia, far from everyone you love. 
You were lost in thought, but you came back to reality when Aimee screamed and pointed behind you, and then you heard male laughter.
A laugh that you could recognize anywhere.
You smelled Mason's scent before you even saw him and your legs went weak as you realized what was happening. 
“Hi boys” Aime squealed, cheering as Henry walked up to her and kissed her in front of everyone, causing the girls to clap. You’d have smiled if you weren't feeling Mason's gaze on your back.
It was ridiculous that you were afraid to turn around and look at him, but you were scared to death. You turned so you could look at his face, even if it was the only time that night. You couldn't help yourself ‘cause you needed to look at him, so you turned around.
You met his eyes before you could react, because you knew he was watching you, his gaze heavy on your back. His face was serious now, and the worst thing was that you noticed that his eyes no longer had that sparkle they had when you were together.
You were the one most to blame for this.
You couldn't look away from him but you couldn't say anything either, you were just taken out of your thoughts and had to look to your side when Declan shouted when he saw you. You smiled at your friend, happy to see him, because Declan was your family too.
“Hello, D” you hugged him, closing your eyes and feeling emotional. You don't know how you managed to go so many months without seeing them. “How are you?”
“I'm fine. And you? Did you realize that England is your place?” Lauren walked over and Declan wrapped his arms around her neck. “This woman has been talking about you every day since you moved in, I couldn't take it anymore.”
“That’s not true” she complained and rolled her eyes smiling, because Lauren was also one of your best friends. “By the way, we missed you, Y/N.”
Mason was standing in the same spot and you finally turned to him after talking to Declan, and you almost rolled your eyes when you saw them all move away purposefully. It was like seeing a ray of sunshine after a storm, and you felt like nothing else mattered when Mason had his eyes on you like you were the only woman in the room.
It was ridiculous to try to explain how handsome Mason looked. He was wearing black pants, a black men's tank top, a white wool coat and Converse. 
“Hello Mason” you said, and even with the loud music he would hear, because it seemed like there were only the two of you there. 
Mason scratched his throat before answering you, he seemed as nervous as you were, and deep down, you were glad for that.
“Hello” he mumbled but you could read his lips. Oh, how you missed his voice.
You took a step towards him, ignoring that everyone was looking at you, and you were lost with the Mason colony around you. 
“You good?” You asked and Mason just nodded, but then Reece appeared hugging Mason by the neck and breaking the bad mood between you. He was drunk and you noticed, he was laughing at nothing and holding onto Mason. You smiled, because you had missed him too. 
“Oh, did you remember you have friends?” You rolled your eyes and hugged him, feeling Mason's gaze on you. “I missed you, Y/N.” 
“I missed you so much, Reece. There is no one like you in Australia.”
“Mason missed you too, but he doesn't tell anyone” Reece whispered in your ear and you smiled, not looking at Mason so he wouldn't realize his friend was talking about him, but before you could do anything, Mason left and went to Declan and Lauren. “He's been a complicated boy these past few months.”
“I fucked up with him and he hates me now” and it was true, Mason probably started to despise you after you were such a bitch to him. 
“He loves you, but he is so stubborn ‘cause you hurt him.”
Mason was now on his back, and God, you just wanted to hug him and feel safe again as you felt his arms around you. 
Mason ignored you perfectly for a long time, you couldn't get close to him and you didn't know how either. Was it fair to want to talk to him and then leave again? Maybe Mason is just protecting his own heart because you already broke his heart once, it's not right to break his heart again after so many months.
Henry said that he had decided to come to the same club as Aimee ‘cause he wanted to have fun with her and the boys, and you smiled at his confession. Aimee knew he was coming and hadn't told you anything, who thought it would be a girls' night. 
“Where's your boyfriend, Y/N?” Declan asked hours later when you were both sitting on the beanbags, the music lower now and you could talk without shouting. 
Before you could answer Mason stood up, saying he was going to get a drink from the bar even though the table was full of drink options. You looked at him disappointed ‘cause you wanted to be able to talk to him or tell him that you don't have a boyfriend, and he preferred to leave than hear you talk about another man.
“Our boy Mason is jealous” Reece laughed and you decided to go after Mason, without answering Declan's question.
It wasn't hard to find Mason, he sat in one of the chairs at the counter and had his back to you, so you quickly sat next to him. He noticed when you sat down next to him but didn't say anything, just continued to stare at the untouched drink in front of him. 
“Running away is not something you usually do” you said and Mason finally looked at you, raising his eyebrows.
“I used to do a lot of things that I don't do anymore” not that you deserve Mason being rude, but it's clear that Mason still resents you. 
“And that's why I know things between us aren't resolved yet” you saw Mason sigh, and you wanted so much to be able to hug him, but if you asked him to he would probably run away from you.
“Yes, everything is resolved. We resolved it when you decided to leave” Mason held the glass and threatened to get up, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him from leaving. “Please let me go, don't make me suffer again.”
“I don't want to make you suffer, Mason, I just want to talk to you for a while” you practically begged him, but Mason was still trying to pull away from you. 
“Talk about what? About how my life went to shit after you left? That I was here suffering while you started a new life in fucking Australia? You wanna know about that to laugh at me because I was an idiot?” 
“Don’t do that, please” you whispered, because Mason had no idea how much you suffered away from him. You never told him, of course he doesn't know.
“I gave my all to you, Y/N, and that's the worst ‘cause I still love you so much that my heart feels like it's going to jump out of my chest” he said looking at you and you felt your own hands tremble, Mason always had that effect on you. “You can't just leave and come back wanting to talk to me like everything is fine, because it's not.”
“Please don't act like it wasn't difficult for me too” You felt your eyes water and Mason shook his head in disbelief.
Because it was really difficult. You spent weeks thinking if you did the right thing, if leaving everything in England was the best option, if ending the best thing that had ever happened to you was the best choice, and there was only one answer in your head. 
“Yeah, I know. By the way, where's your boyfriend? Is that why your life was hard in Australia?” Mason asked and drank all the last drink he had ordered. “I went to hell after you moved out, and while you were there enjoying your new life I stayed here because I was dropped off without notice. Don't feel rejected because I don't want you to fuck me again, you rejected me first.”
Mason turned his back and left the club without saying goodbye, leaving you alone with the guilt and regret consuming you.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
You took at least five deep breaths before ringing the bell on the white door in front of you. You also don't know how or why, but your fingerprint was still registered at the entrance to the building where Mason has a flat in London, and after convincing Aimee to tell you if he was there, she finally said yes. 
You regretted it the second you rang the doorbell, especially since it was only seven thirty in the morning, but you had been up all night and would go crazy if you didn't go there. You raised your finger to press the doorbell again but heard a grumble coming from the other side of the door, and you hated yourself ‘cause you probably woke Mason up.
He opened the door wearing only underwear and a crumpled face. You swallowed hard.
“Y/n?” He spoke in a hoarse voice, and before he could tell you to leave, you entered the apartment cause you needed to talk to him. “Is there something wrong?”
Mason closed the door and looked at you, waiting for you to answer. You took another deep breath, but it still wasn't enough to make you less nervous.
“It was difficult for me too, it still is” Mason raised his eyebrow. “Don't think that just because I never said what you wanted to hear, I didn't feel anything, I just knew that our time together had an end date and there was nothing to change that.”
“Look, I don’t want to-”
“You’re gonna listen to me, Mason” you stopped Mason from speaking, and then he kept looking at you. “It's not fair for you to say that I didn't suffer, because no one was in Australia with me to know that, you don't know how many nights I cried on the phone with Aimee wanting to give up everything to go back to England and to you.”
“And I don't care if you think I don't care about you, but know that you were one of the best things that ever happened to me and you can't treat me badly like you treated me yesterday, it's not fair to me either” you stopped for two seconds to breathe, and Mason looked at you without saying anything. “You know how much I always wanted this job, Mason, and you can't imagine how much it hurts me to realize that I'm gone and I was much happier here than I am in Australia.”
A tear fell from your face and you wiped it away, Mason brought his hands to his face and sighed, taking a step towards you, but you stopped him from getting closer. 
“I'm not here to ask you for forgiveness, I just needed to say a few things.”
And you were gone as quickly as you arrived, leaving Mason and his own thoughts alone.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
Mason felt like shit for the rest of the day, mainly ‘cause he knew he treated you badly. The problem is that Mason gave you everything, and when he least expected it, you broke his heart into pieces.
Those were terrible months, Mason was training, he was irritated with everyone and especially on the field, which caused him to be sent off and made the coach discuss with him. Mason spent months without sleeping through the night, got drunk at every party he went to, and even spent weeks without talking to his own family so no one would ask about you.
Aimee and Henry's wedding is tomorrow and Mason would rather be anywhere but there. He can't even imagine what it's going to be like to see you so beautiful and in a relationship with another man who's oceans away, but Mason knows it's going to be very difficult.
“Why do you have such a shitty face?” Declan asked as he took the beer Mason handed him, and Mason had been quiet for minutes while they were watching an old football match that was on the television.
“Y/N came here this morning” Mason spoke softly and threw himself onto the couch, sighing as he remembered the words you spoke to him. “I feel like shit again, bro.”
“You've been feeling like shit for eight months, my friend” Mason rolled his eyes, but he couldn't disagree. You came back and turned over all the feelings that Mason thought were gone, when in fact they were stored and emerged to squeeze his heart again.
And he knows that in a few days you'll be gone again, he knows it'll be shit again and it'll be another eight months to forget everything. 
“I feel like we haven't ended things between us yet, but I'm not ready for that. Man, I love her so much, she's gonna kill me again” Mason confessed, and for months he hadn't talked about you to anyone but Aimee. His mother would always ask, but Mason wouldn't talk about it to her, or anyone else. 
The funniest thing was that even the fans said that there was something wrong with Mason, but he always said that everything was fine while putting that sadness deeper in his heart. 
“Don't let her bring you down again then” Declan said it like it was obvious, but it was easy for him because he had Lauren, Jude and he was happy.
“It's not that simple.” 
“Make it so.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“You look so pretty, I'm gonna ruin my makeup from crying this much” you said as you shook your eyes to stop crying as you looked at Aimee in the wedding dress. “I have never seen such a beautiful bride.”
“Please, stop, you're making me emotional and I can't cry” Aimee said looking at the ceiling, and then you approached and hugged her, saying once again how beautiful she was. “You look beautiful too, that color looks wonderful on you.”
“I know, I really look good in blue” you joked, and she laughed as the two of you checked to make sure everything was ready for Aimee to get married. “Let's check if we have everything.”
Aimee agreed and went to the window to see the place where the ceremony was taking place. All the guests were already there and in a few minutes it would be her turn. The day was beautiful, and everything was perfect. You walked over to the window, looking down at where the guests were sitting, and even without meaning to, your gaze quickly found the person who had been your thoughts for months.
Mason was laughing with Declan and Reece, and he had no way of seeing you there but you could even see his eyes closing as he laughed. He looked so happy, he didn't look like the same sad-hearted man you'd met two days ago, and for a moment you felt good that Mason was smiling.
“Did you talk to him?” Aimee asked, and you nodded.
“He hates me” you shrugged because it's the truth. 
“He doesn't hate you, don't be silly, Mason loves you so much, he just didn't know how to deal with you leaving.” 
“It doesn't matter now” you wiped away a tear and turned to Aimee, smiling at her. “So, something old?”
“My grandmother's earrings” Aimee pointed to her grandmother's gold earrings, and they really were beautiful. 
“Something new?”
“My dress.”
“Something borrowed?”
“My shoe.”
“Something blue?”
“The sexy lingerie I'm wearing underneath.”
“Oh, spare me the details” you rolled your eyes, and then smiled nervously ‘cause the time was finally coming. Aimee's father came in to call her and you finally left, but not before wishing her good luck.
You went down to where the ceremony would be and greeted a few people, some surprised and happy that you were back in England. Lauren waved and called you over, so you quickly walked over to her, sighing because Mason was there too. You felt your hands sweat as you walked down the hallway, as well as your heart racing.
“Hey guys” you said and almost groaned when you saw that the empty seat Lauren had saved was next to Mason. “Is this place for me?”
Mason looked at you and you almost forgot how to walk, because he had this effect on you, making you nervous with just a look. He was so handsome, he looked like he was ready for his own wedding. You quickly looked away from him, but Mason didn't stop looking at you for a second.
“Sure” Lauren smiled and you wanted to kill her. You sat next to Mason, controlling your breathing, and even so he didn't stop looking at you, leaving you blushing. 
“You're drooling man, control yourself” Reece spoke softly to Mason, and Mason cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, making RJ laugh. You were talking to Lauren because you had nothing to talk about with Mason, but his cologne was all around you, making you drunk by the smell of the perfume he had been using for years. 
Everyone cried or got emotional when Aimee walked in, especially Henry who cried like a baby when he saw her walking towards him. You and Lauren were almost sobbing throughout the ceremony, and Declan was already laughing at you. 
When they said their vows was when you and Mason looked at each other, and a racing heart because of his deep gaze on you made you come closer and hold his arm, leaning your face against his suit in a loving way, and it was the closest to love you had come in eight months.
Because Mason means love to you, and not even so many months apart have changed that.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“I'm nervous, I forgot the speech paper” you whispered to Anthony, Aimee's brother, and he shrugged with a laugh.
“Not my problem, Y/N, I've already said my speech.”
“Okay, I can do this” you took a deep breath and he helped you climb onto a chair. Everyone had already eaten dinner and everything was so spectacular, it would be a wonderful night for your best friend. 
You trembled as you saw all the eyes on you, but you held the microphone and smiled to pretend you weren't nervous.
“I wrote some words on a piece of paper but I forgot the paper at home, so I'll have to improvise, I hope the bride and groom don't mind” everyone laughed at what you said and you felt your cheeks heat up, speaking in public wasn't very easy, speaking at a wedding was even worse. “I remember the day Aimee came to me when we were in college a few years ago and said she met the coolest guy in the world and I said "impossible, no man is the coolest in the world" and yet she said he was.” 
“In fact Henry, you proved that you are really a very nice guy and Aimee was right, ‘cause she shines when she looks at you, just like we can see in your eyes how much you love her. I could tell you all about some of the embarrassing moments of the two of them, but I prefer to talk about love cause I think everyone would like to hear it.”
“I once asked my mom how she knew my stepdad was the right person for her and she told me it had to be someone special. It's a person who doesn't mind being silent by your side because they know that everything is fine even without talking. It's someone who makes you happy just by remembering that person for a minute of the day or the whole day. It's someone who doesn't judge you, doesn't embarrass you or devalue what you feel.”
Even without wanting to, your gaze fell on Mason, and he was staring at you on top of that chair with a microphone in your hand. He was paying attention to every word that came out of your mouth and you almost lost focus because it hurt so much knowing that you would never have him in your life again.
“You two are each other's special person. I'm sure everyone here has someone special, and it's worth dropping everything when you know you have someone by your side to love you and go through everything with you, because that's how love works.”
Your eyes filled with tears and you had to stop looking at Mason ‘cause even he got teary-eyed listening to you. You looked at Aimee and she was crying and trying not to ruin her makeup as she ran her hand over her eyes, and Henry next to her smiled as he wiped a tear that ran down his face too. 
You also had to wipe away the tear that ran down your face. 
“Here's to Aimee and Henry. May their lives be wonderful” you raised your glass of champagne and everyone raised their own, toasting to their new life together. Anthony helped you down from the chair and you quickly went to your seat, but in reality you wanted to go out and cry.
Mason didn't take his eyes off you and you started to feel suffocated, especially since he hadn't even wanted to come near you for two days and he still left you in pieces when you tried to talk to him.
“I've never heard such beautiful words, Y/N” Aimee Aimee hugged you and you smiled, still with tears in your eyes. “Thank you for coming, thank you for being my best friend. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Aim.”
You didn't even make it to the table because everyone stopped to congratulate you on your beautiful speech, and when you finally got there, Mason was no longer there. 
“Where is he?” you asked RJ, and he said that Mason had gone to the bathroom, before anyone could stop you again, you went to look for him. 
You waited a few minutes before Mason came out of the bathroom and saying that he was surprised to see you waiting for him was nothing new. You stared at each other for a few seconds before another guy came out of the bathroom and you and Mason had to break contact, so you pulled him by the hand and walked down the hallway until you found another door. 
Mason didn't say anything as he followed you, and when you saw that it was a warehouse and there was no one there, you went in and pulled Mason with you, pushing him against the wall.
“I love you” you whispered and Mason's eyes widened, shocked because he finally heard the three words he wanted to hear so much. Maybe it was too late and you would never be together again, but at least you got your feelings off your chest and told Mason. “Oh my God, I love you.”
“What?” Mason put his hand over his mouth, not wanting to show his smile, but he was smiling so much it was impossible to hide it. “I didn't hear.”
“I love you, I love you, I love-.” You had never felt such relief when Mason reached out and pulled your mouth against his.
Kissing Mason is like Christmas morning, or the morning of your birthday or the birthday of someone you love. Feeling Mason's arms is like feeling like nothing in the world can bring you down ‘cause you have someone protecting you from everything and ready to fight with you. 
“Does he ask to hold your hand?” Mason whispered and then kissed you again, and you couldn't respond because you were busy feeling the wonderful taste of his lips. “I bet he doesn't kiss you like I do.” 
Mason held you with both hands on your neck, and then he brought his hand to the back of your neck and grabbed your hair, making you pull your mouth away from his and look at him.
Why did he have to be so handsome?
And that stupid blond hair, that made you want to take his clothes off completely.
The look on your face was probably desperate with desire ‘cause Mason smiled and ran his tongue over his lips, staring at your mouth. 
“No” you confessed, feeling Mason smile. “You're the only one who knows how to touch me and how to love me.”
Mason smiled when you responded and pulled your mouth against his once more, wrapping his arm around your neck and holding you against him. It was okay, you didn't want to be anywhere else but in his arms.
Mason pushed you against the wall and you gasped ‘cause his body against yours gave you protection. How did you manage to go so many months without him? You only knew one home, and that was next to Mason. 
You'll never be able to live in Australia alone again. 
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“Are you ready for a wedding?” Mason asked as he kissed your skin, and he whispered it because of the blue panties you were wearing. You weren't discreet when you left the wedding together and you heard your friends cheering when they saw you get into Mason's car, and you hadn't been able to stop smiling for hours, ever since he kissed you for the first time. “Something blue…”
You sighed as Mason showered you with kisses, you were numb with his body on top of yours. You didn't know how much you had missed this, these moments with Mason where you completed each other like soulmates, because only he knew how to drive you crazy. 
“There is still something borrowed and something old missing” you said, closing your eyes and bringing your hands to Mason's hair. His breath was on your groin and you almost moaned, because you were tired but you needed Mason so much that you felt like you were going to explode. “But we can think about it.”
“I don't want you to think about anything but me right now, love.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
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It's been a month since you got back to Australia and you and Mason have been trying to keep things at arm's length, but it's really hard because when you're waking up, Mason's going to sleep or when you're working, Mason's waking up.
But ever since you set foot in England again, you knew that this was where you belonged, and when you returned to Australia, you didn't think twice when you asked for a transfer again.
Your boss agreed and said that you could get the same position in England, but you would have to wait a few weeks for all the paperwork to be ready. No one knew you were  coming back because it would be a surprise to both Mason and his mom or his friends.
And at that moment you were at Manchester airport ‘cause the first place you were going was home. Mason. You don't even know if he's at home, if he's training, he might even be with someone else there and you feel like you might faint when you think about it.
It's already getting dark and cold, but you’re at an Uber with the only two suitcases of stuff you'd taken to Australia with you. The car dropped you off in front of Mason's house and if you weren't so nervous you would roll your eyes at the size of the place. 
You rang the bell at the gate and after a few rings you heard a bark and raised your eyebrows, because you didn't know Mason had a dog. 
“Hello?” His voice was hoarse and you almost cried, you were missing him so much it was making you sick.
“Hi, were you the one who asked for a girlfriend?” you were smiling and everything was silent for a few seconds until you saw the door to the house open quickly. Mason ran barefoot on the wet grass and you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your face. 
“What the fuck? Are you insane?” Mason pulled you against him, lifting you off the ground as you jumped against him and wrapping your legs around his hips. “I thought you were in Australia, my god I missed you so much. I love you, I love you” Mason whispered and squeezed you, without letting you go. 
“I love you, I'll never leave, never again” you cried as you hugged him, trying to hold onto Mason everywhere so he would never let you go again. “You are my home Mason, I'm sorry for everything, I know I don't deserve it but I just want to be with you forever.”
“I can't believe you're back, I'm dreaming” Mason finally let go of you and put you on the ground, then he pulled you in and kissed you after more than a month away from your lips. “You're still going to kill me by doing these things to me.”
Mason pulled your bags and pointed to the entrance of the house, and you walked as he pulled your things. You stopped when a puppy ran out of the house towards you, and you bent down to pet it.
“Oh my God, we already have a child?” you joked and Mason just smiled and crouched down to be close to you. The puppy jumped on your legs and then ran to Mason, who petted his fur.
“This is Ace, he’s a boy and he has been my new company since you left me alone.”
“Ahh, poor boy, he had to put up with you crying for long weeks.”
“His mommy is home now” you stood up and looked at Mason, kissing him once more. 
“My home is wherever you are.”
124 notes · View notes
lewmagoo · 8 hours
Text
we own the sky | rhett abbott
part one: ain’t no love in oklahoma
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series info: new parts will be uploaded every friday at 7pm est. want more? read the synopsis here. listen to the playlist here. see the posting schedule here.
description: in which you return to the place where you lost everything
warnings: 18+ only, heavy themes, character death, grief, blood and injury, angst with a positive ending, allusions to sex, eventual smut, inaccurate weather terms, please do not check my science lol this story requires some suspension of disbelief. i usually try not to say anything about reader's family in fics but i do mention them having an unnamed great-aunt, as it was necessary to the plot
pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader
notes: this story is inspired by twisters. you do not have to watch the movie in order to understand this story, because aside from the storm chasing aspect, it has nothing to do with the twister universe. i've been working on this story for 2 months straight, and it is my pride and joy. i am so excited for everyone to read it! without further adieu, here is we own the sky!
You never thought you would return to the place where you lost everything. 
When you left, you had sworn to yourself that you would never come back. This part of your life, the unspeakable tragedy you had endured, had to stay in the past where it belonged. And for six years, you managed to make yourself forget while you moved on with life.
You knew it wasn’t just you who had been affected by what happened. It had touched the lives of multiple people, shattering everything around them. But while they had stayed, you had decided to run. Away from the agony, away from the memories, away from the man you loved. It was better that way. At least, that was what you told yourself. 
Now you found yourself standing in the middle of the rolling plains of the place that you used to live, wisps of tall grass brushing against your legs as the breeze rushed over the earth. It was all so familiar, yet so foreign. You felt so out of place, like an alien that had just descended the sky and landed on Earth for the very first time.
As you bent to pluck a stalk of switchgrass, you were struck with a memory of the day you left. Sprawled out in the long grass, your first love lying at your side. Rhett Abbott. The man you had known since you were mere babies in the church nursery together. Saying goodbye to him was the hardest part of leaving. But in your heart of hearts, you knew this was the way it had to be. You couldn’t look at him without being reminded of all you had lost. Of all he had lost. 
“I wish you’d stay,” his voice, filled with longing, cut into the still morning air. Such a contrast to the chaos that had transpired in recent days.
“You know I can’t,” you whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, your voice would break, and you would succumb to tears.
“We can figure things out, you an’ me. Work through it together.”
“Rhett–”
“Fuckin’ twister took so much from us. Now you’re leavin’, too.” Defeat was evident in his voice.
You sat up, turning to look down at him. “We talked about this, Rhett. I have to leave.”
He sat up, too, nodding somberly. “Y’don’t have to. You just can’t stand the thought of facin’ reality. So you’re runnin’ from it.” Then he rose to his feet, grass crunching beneath him. “Not all of us have the luxury of bolting when things get tough, honeybee. The rest of us have gotta stay and face it head-on.”
Then he walked away, and you let him, knowing this would be the last time you would see him. A love lost. 
Yet here you were again, in the same field where your romance had ended. However, you weren’t here to see him. You had returned to tie up loose ends, and face the past you had spent the last handful of years running from.
Rhett had been right about one thing. You needed to face it all head-on. But you weren’t sure if you had the strength to do so.
Being back in your hometown of Wabang, Oklahoma was a surreal experience. Nothing and everything had changed all at once. Dorothy McIntyre still owned Mac’s Diner on Main Street. Mrs. Simmons still tended to her rose garden every single day, keeping it in pristine condition. The local Baptist church still looked exactly the same as the day you left. 
It felt like the town was stuck in time.
But there were also some changes. A new bar had opened up in town. A coffee shop, too, which was quite the upgrade. Even though life was slow moving here, it still continued on, just like it did everywhere else. 
Coming back was never something you thought was in the cards for you, but a handful of your family members had remained here when you left. Including your great-aunt. Sadly, she had recently passed away, and you’d surprised yourself by willingly volunteering to go sort through her belongings and prepare her house to be sold.
You had a good portion of vacation days saved from your job at the National Weather Service Headquarters, and you decided to take them while you had the chance. Instead of going on a fun getaway, you were cleaning out a house that was just a few steps down from a hoarding house. 
Your poor aunt had gotten rather forgetful in her old age, and had let so much clutter accumulate. Her declining physical health and mental capacity had inhibited her from cleaning, and, unfortunately, her children were not the most diligent when it came to looking after their mother, so no one had helped her with clearing any of the clutter when she was alive. 
That was where you came in. And you certainly had your work cut out for you. But you didn’t mind too terribly. You were glad to have a break from work. Monitoring weather was quite literally a 24/7 thing. You loved your job, but you often felt as if you were running about like a chicken with its head cut off.  
Especially now. It was late spring, and the weather had been wild and unkempt. It had a mind of its own, and with all the freak storms ripping through seemingly every state in the US, the National Weather Service was extremely busy. 
And here you were, in the heart of Tornado Alley, which had seen a record-breaking uptick in tornado activity this season. You couldn’t deny that the thought of being here during this season made your anxiety skyrocket. 
Where you lived now, in Maryland, tornadoes weren’t commonplace. They happened, yes, but not nearly as often as they did in your home state of Oklahoma. 
You had once loved studying the phenomenon of twisters. There had been a time when they fascinated you. A time when you chased after them to analyze their data. And then, one terrible, fateful day, while observing one of those vicious twisters, the unthinkable happened. 
Six Years Ago
“This one’s gonna be a big one. I can feel it,” Rhett’s voice was laced with electric excitement. He was a live wire, blue eyes wide and glimmering with his eagerness. 
His excitement rubbed off on you. You loved doing this together. It was what you were meant to do. “I can, too,” you replied with a grin, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 
He leaned in, his gaze flickering to your lips before he ducked his head to kiss you languidly. “Ready to wrangle this twister?” He asked. 
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Could’ya get a room?” Another voice cut across the site, interrupting your moment. 
Rhett scowled as he looked over your shoulder to find his brother approaching. “Just for that, I’m kissin’ her again.” He pulled you in and planted another kiss on you, dialing it up to disgust Perry all the more.
You shoved at Rhett’s chest, giggling when you parted. “Maybe let’s not gross out everyone within a ten-mile radius,” you joked, though you still leaned in to steal one last peck from him. 
“When you two are done neckin’, you might wanna pay attention to the radar. Winds are pickin’ up,” Perry explained, tapping the screen that was currently resting on the tailgate of Rhett’s truck.
“Think this one’s gonna touch down?” Came the voice of Rebecca, Perry’s wife, as she approached, tugging her ball cap down over her blonde ponytail. 
“Look at them clouds. It’s gotta,” Rhett mused, motioning toward the sky. Angry, black clouds roiled in the distance. Perry was right, the wind was picking up. Although it wasn’t cold, it still sent a shiver down your spine.
Lightning crackled across the gray backdrop, and thunder subsequently rumbled in the distance. As you felt the first drops of cool rain, you locked eyes with Rhett. His face broke into a grin.
“Let’s get goin’!” He called out, retrieving his worn felt hat, the one you’d gotten him on his eighteenth birthday, and placing it atop his head. 
You found yourself laughing with glee as you moved to scurry to the passenger seat of his rickety old GMC Sierra that had seen more storms than you could count. As you wrenched the door open, the sound of scrambling footsteps alerted you that someone was approaching quickly. You turned to find Lydia, your best friend, running toward you, her French braids bouncing wildly about.
“Don’t forget this!” She called out, shoving a walkie-talkie into your hand. Her own remained clipped to the waistband of her cargo pants. 
“Thanks!” You replied. “You riding with us or with Perry and Bec?”
“I’ll ride with them, since they’ve got more room and all,” she told you. Unlike Rhett’s truck, Perry’s had a backseat.
“Okay, see you after the storm. Be careful, alright?” You surged forward and gave her a quick hug. Your friendship went way back to childhood, when you had met each other in kindergarten. You had been inseparable ever since. With your shared fascination with the weather, it was only natural that she would decide to chase twisters alongside you.
“Let’s go to that new ice cream place when we’re done!” She suggested when you parted. 
“Sure, I’ll mention it to Rhett. See ya in a bit!” With that, you yanked the truck door open and climbed inside, while Lydia rushed off to get into Perry’s truck. 
As you settled in the seat, you set your walkie down in the cupholder and grabbed the monitor you used to keep an eye on the weather radar. There, at the top of the screen, you saw the red banner that listed which counties had just been put under tornado watches. 
Glancing back up at the sky, your heart quickened in your chest. While it wasn’t guaranteed that a twister would touch down, it was a very high possibility, especially with the string of storms that had ripped through the area lately. 
“Let’s go chase this son’bitch,” Rhett murmured as he settled into the driver’s seat, tugging his seatbelt into place. He turned the key, and the truck roared to life. Without wasting a single moment, he threw the gear into drive and peeled out of the vacant lot you’d all been congregating in. 
He kept to the east of the storm, offering you the best vantage point. Most storms moved northeast, at thirty to forty miles per hour, so you had to move fast to keep up. Rhett stepped on the accelerator, wasting no time. He was vibrating with adrenaline beside you, and it was infectious. 
He always had been a bit of an adrenaline junkie. When he was in high school, he’d started bull riding competitively. He loved the thrill, the danger, the electricity he felt atop a thousand-pound animal. 
Chasing twisters was similar to bull riding. Trying to hold on for dear life as an angry, churning force threatened to toss you through the air like a rag doll. Once he’d had a taste, he couldn’t get enough. 
His love of the thrill and your fascination with weather made you a dream team. 
Turning it into a family affair wasn’t necessarily the goal, but Rebecca found the phenomenon of tornadoes fascinating, and Perry was simply along for the ride, so the four of you started storm chasing together. 
And of course, Lydia had been on board from the moment you suggested it. Much like Rhett, she also loved thrill seeking, and was content to join your little team. She was particularly good at analyzing storm data. Her entire motivation was figuring out how twisters worked. 
Meteorology was a science that was relatively new. While the study of weather itself had been around for millennia, it didn’t quite progress until scientists began utilizing computers to analyze meteorological data. 
Even with all the progress that had been made, tornadoes were difficult to study. Things like hurricanes and tropical storms were easier to predict and monitor. But not twisters. They were wild, uncontrollable beasts that could touch down at any moment and wreak all sorts of havoc in mere seconds.
Lydia wanted to learn all she could about the phenomena, and so did you. Your shared interest allowed you to work very well together. 
You were so grateful for the little group you worked with. Four people you loved very much. You’d known Rhett, Perry, and Lydia your entire life, of course, and Rebecca was a newer addition. She’d joined you in the last five years, but she was an excellent asset with her history as a news meteorologist. 
What a merry band of storm chasers you were, heading into the face of danger, hoping to encounter one of the most mysterious weather anomalies in existence. 
“How’s she lookin’, darlin’?” Rhett asked, one hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh lovingly. 
You gazed down at the screen in your lap, paying attention to the large highlighted region that showed which direction the storm was moving. The severity was mounting. 
“Pretty intense,” you answered. Then, as if on cue, the telltale sound of hailstones began to patter against the roof of the truck. Your face broke into a grin. 
Over the walkie, Lydia’s voice could be heard. “We’ve got hail!” She cried in excitement. 
The shift in temperature was a good sign. These were peak conditions for a tornado to form in. You grabbed the hand Rhett had placed on your leg, giving it a squeeze. He squeezed right back. 
Moments later, the hail died down, and you opened the truck window, listening. A crack of thunder in the distance. And then, a split second of utter silence. 
The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 
You turned your head, looking straight at Rhett. The blue of his eyes was bright as could be, shining with anticipation. 
And then, just beyond him, you saw it. 
“Holy shit.”
He glanced to his left and saw it too. A few hundred yards from you, in the open fields, a funnel cloud had begun to form. Your eyes never left it, staring at the sky, willing the funnel to touch down. 
“Come on, come on, come on.”
“We got touchdown yet?!” Rhett asked, eyes half on the road, half on the funnel. 
Almost there. Almost there. Almost there. 
And then, all at once, it made contact with the ground. Lydia was shouting through the walkie, and you grabbed the device to answer her. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your teeth chattering as adrenaline began to course through you. 
What a beautiful sight it was. Terrifying and destructive, but beautiful. 
“Goddamn, look at that,” Rhett breathed in awe. He kept his foot planted firmly on the accelerator, maintaining a fast pace, staying just ahead of the swirling tunnel of wind. 
But your spirit of wonder soon dissipated as you noticed something. “It looks like it’s getting bigger,” you remarked. The change was obvious. It was covering more ground. Moving faster and faster. 
Within seconds, your entire life was turned upside down. 
“Oh my God. Rhett…” Your voice failed you, coming out as more of a whisper. You gripped his arm, and he quickly brought both hands to the steering wheel, knuckles white. 
He gazed out at the approaching swirl, and he knew he was no longer chasing the storm. No, this time, the tides had turned. 
Now it was time to run. 
You scrambled for the walkie-talkie, fingers closing around the plastic, but it flew out of your hands as Rhett slammed on the brakes. You let out a yelp as you plummeted forward, seatbelt stopping you from hitting the dashboard. 
“We gotta find cover!” He shouted, throwing the gear into park and unbuckling his own seatbelt. His face was awash with fright, pale as could be. He pointed to your right. “Old Miller property’s over there. Maybe we can make it to the storm cellar!”
Terror-stricken, you scrambled to open your door, tumbling out onto the asphalt. As soon as you righted yourself, Rhett was grabbing you, hand tight on your bicep, dragging you across the road. Your boots crunched against gravel, but you couldn’t hear the sound over the roar of the wind.
It was so close you could feel it tugging at your clothes. A vortex threatening to swallow you whole. If it overtook you, you’d never make it out alive. 
Together, you dashed across an old wheat field, straight for the Miller farm. It had been abandoned for years, but the storm shelter remained, and it was your best chance at survival. 
You could see it just up ahead, jutting slightly from the ground. But your legs ached, and your lungs burned like fire as you struggled to take in gulps of air. So close yet so far. Just a little further. 
You’d never been so terrified in your life. You understood now what people meant when they said their life flashed before their eyes. Yours did at that moment, as you ran alongside the man you loved. 
Images of your family, memories of all the good times you’d had with Rhett, flashes of laughing and singing and being young and foolish and so full of wonder. Was it all for naught? 
“C’mon, baby! We’re almost there!” His desperate shout filled your ears. He yanked you toward him and you nearly lost your footing, and for one horrifying moment, you thought you were going to fall, but Rhett caught you in his strong arms, continuing on across the field. 
By the grace of the Almighty, you made it to the shelter. Rhett threw himself down, lifting the iron bar that was fastened across the rusted doors. Hinges squealed as he heaved them open, and he pulled you forward, urging you down the rickety old ladder into the abyss below. 
You scrambled down, and he followed, slamming the door shut as he did so. When you reached the end of the ladder, your feet hit the floor unsteadily, and you yelped as your foot gave out beneath you, ankle twisting painfully. But your injury was the least of your worries. 
In the inky darkness, Rhett landed beside you and reached out, grabbing you, pulling you close. 
“Rhett!” You sobbed, burying your face against his chest as he cautiously guided you away from the overhead doors. 
“I’ve got you!” He assured you, holding you tightly. He pulled you both to the damp ground, and you curled up beneath him as he laid his body atop your own. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
He held you, his large hands covering your ears as the violent storm raged above you. 
Often, tornadoes were described as sounding like a freight train, and you would agree with that statement, having witnessed so many of them. But right now, as you huddled beneath the ground right below the savage phenomenon, it didn’t sound like a train at all. 
It sounded like the world was coming to an end. 
You weren’t entirely certain how long you stayed down there, pressed against the earth, as Rhett shielded you. It felt like hours. Days. Weeks. 
And then, all at once, it stopped. 
The world went quiet again. Nature went back to its natural order. The danger had passed. 
You laid there for a few moments, both of you breathing hard, hearts racing. You were trembling. So was he. But you were alive. 
“Are you okay?” Rhett asked as he lifted his body from yours, kneeling beside you. 
You sat up, trying to find your voice. “Y-yeah. Are you?”
“I’m fine,” he breathed. 
And then, “Oh my God. Perry, Bec and Lydia!”
You hurried to stand, and Rhett grabbed your arm, leading you both through the dark, feeling for anything that might be in your path. Once he’d grabbed onto the ladder, he ascended it first, grunting as he reached up to open the doors. 
Daylight flooded the cellar, and you shielded your eyes for a moment before you took hold of the ladder yourself and began climbing. 
As you both emerged, the sight you were met with was harrowing. The old Miller farmhouse was entirely decimated, blown flat to the ground like a house made of popsicle sticks. The barn was destroyed, too, pieces of red painted wood littering the surrounding property. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. That had to be an EF4. Maybe even a five,” Rhett said in utter disbelief, his eyes wide, jaw slacken. 
A sob tore itself from your throat as you turned, fully taking in the level of damage around you. There was seemingly no sign of Perry’s truck. 
“Do you think they found cover?” You asked, voice trembling. 
Rhett’s face was grim, but he still said, “‘m sure they did, they’re smart, they’re probably just hunkerin’ down in a ditch somewhere.” Then he grasped your hand. “Let’s head out to the road and see if we can fine ‘em.”
You intertwined your fingers with his and followed, but your stomach was in knots. What if your friends had been consumed by the storm? What if they were dead?
As you walked, you both called out for them, hoping they’d hear and yell back. But your voices bounced off of the eerily silent countryside. Such a contrast to the chaos that had just transpired. 
“They can’t have gone too far. They were right behind us,” Rhett spoke. You could hear the distress in his voice, although he was trying to keep himself steady for you. 
You scanned the horizon, and that’s when you saw it. A long ways off, the silhouette of an overturned truck could be seen. Perry’s truck. 
“Rhett,” came your whisper. 
“I see it.”
Together, you broke into a run, sprinting across the road and into the field on the other side. Faster and faster, desperate to see what was inside the truck. Praying it was empty, that your friends had found cover. 
You came to a stop once you were within a few feet of the truck, and Rhett held out his arm, glancing back at you as he caught his breath. “Just wait, I’ll check,” he told you. 
You shook your head, breathing still labored. “No, let’s look together.”
Holding his gaze, a beat passed before he reached for your hand again. Together, you cautiously approached the truck, which was turned onto its side. It was severely battered, damaged beyond repair. 
As you rounded the front, you peered down into the window and your blood ran cold. “Oh dear God.”
Rhett jumped into action, climbing atop the side of the truck. The driver's side glass was shattered, allowing him to reach in. “Per!” He exclaimed, gripping his brother’s shirt, tugging him upward. “Perry!”
But he got no response. The man was unconscious. A nasty gash marred the side of his head, crimson blood trickling down his face. He was terribly pale.
Beneath him, Rhett could see Rebecca. His heart sank like a rock. Just from the way she was positioned, he could tell she was not going to fare well. He couldn’t see if her chest was rising and falling or not. And when he squinted to look into the back seat, he saw Lydia, slumped over, but he couldn’t tell if she was dead or just merely unconscious.  
“Are they alive?!” You couldn’t tell from your vantage point. All you could see was Perry and Rebecca. If Lydia was still in the truck, she was concealed in the back. 
“I-I can feel a pulse, but Perry’s bleedin’ real bad. Call 911!” He didn’t give you any information about the girls. 
“Rhett, the girls! Are they—”
“Just call an ambulance!” He repeated with urgency. 
You did as you were told, hurrying to grab your phone from your pocket, hands shaking fiercely as you dialed the emergency number. You prayed you would get an answer, knowing the call lines would be flooded after the storm. 
Moments later, an operator answered. Panicked, you explained your situation, begging them to send help. The woman remained calm, asking for your name and location, assuring you that assistance was on the way. You had no recollection of what you said to her. Everything was a blur, adrenaline giving you tunnel vision.
After you hung up the phone, Rhett jumped down from the truck. You threw yourself into his arms as he neared you, tears spilling down your cheeks. “They said they’re on their way,” you whimpered. 
He hugged you close, and you could feel the way he trembled. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to pull him out. The EMTs should be the ones to do it, just in case anythin’ is broken.” While that was partially true, he was also terrified that if he started pulling everyone out, he’d find the girls were dead. It would bring reality crashing down upon him. The thought made his gut churn with dread, and he found himself praying to a God he didn’t even believe in, asking Him to spare his brother and his sister-in-law, and your dearest friend Lydia. 
It took longer than usual, because so many ambulances had already been dispatched to aid those harmed in the storm. But as time ticked on, the more worried you became. “I’m scared,” you whimpered.
Rhett held you tighter, resting his cheek atop your head. He felt so powerless. “I know. Me too.”
Moments later, the wail of emergency vehicle sirens could be heard. Multiple ambulances and a firetruck approached, all pulling into the grass toward the scene. Rhett let you go, the two of you jogging ahead to meet the first responders.
“There’s three of ‘em in the truck!” Rhett exclaimed, “they’re all unconscious, from what I could tell!”
“We’ll get them out!” One of them assured you both. 
You watched as they all rushed toward the truck, firefighters and EMTs alike. Helplessly, you remained on the sidelines, clinging to Rhett, fingers clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. 
He wanted to tell you they’d be okay. That everything was going to be fine, that your friends were unharmed. But in his heart, he knew nothing would ever be okay again. 
Perry was pulled from the vehicle first, still unconscious. Together, you watched as he was placed on a gurney, where an EMT hurriedly checked his vitals, searching for life. 
“I’ve got a pulse, but it’s weak!” The young woman shouted. 
He was alive. That was a good sign, right? Maybe it meant the girls were alright as well. You could only hope. 
A saw was taken to the door, and it was removed so that the inside of the truck was more easily accessible. Then they pulled Rebecca out. She was so still, unresponsive as she was hauled down to a second gurney. 
You heard a voice shout that they couldn’t find a pulse. 
You placed your hand over your mouth, a grieved whimper escaping your throat. Rhett’s name slipped past your lips, and you buried your face in his chest, unable to watch. You could hear his sharp intake of breath. 
Then Lydia was pulled from the wreckage. While you kept your face hidden against Rhett, he watched on, and he knew, just from the sight of her, that she was gone.
His grip tightened on you. It felt as if a dagger had been plunged into his chest. He sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, his eyes falling shut for a moment as the weight of what was happening settled upon him. 
You lifted your head at that very moment, and you turned, realizing your best friend had been taken out of the truck. On instinct, you tried to pull away from Rhett. Tried to run toward the scene, to see for yourself if Lydia was alright. 
But Rhett held you back. “No,” he told you. 
“Let me go, I need to see if she’s okay!”
He repeated himself. “No.” He would not release you, no matter how hard you struggled. 
Tears blurred your vision. “Rhett, please! I need to know if she’s alive!” 
He grabbed both of your shoulders and looked right into your eyes. “Darlin’, stop! Just let ‘em do their jobs!” He didn’t want you near it. Didn’t want you to witness death up close and personal like that. It would haunt you forever. 
Your knees buckled, and he caught you as you fell into him, wailing from the weight of your pain. Brokenhearted, Rhett cradled you in his arms, squeezing his eyes shut as his own tears made their way down his cheeks. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t real. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. 
And then one of the sheriff’s deputies was approaching. Linden Haynes. “You two need an escort to the hospital?” He asked, voice low. Knowing you’d both want to go in support of your friends. 
Rhett nodded, trying to find his voice. “Yeah…yeah. Thanks. I, uh, don’t know where my truck got blown to.”
Linden hummed, his face sympathetic. “No problem. We’ll find your truck somewhere. Once things calm down, I can see if we can get some deputies searchin’ for it.” He moved to walk away, motioning for you both to follow. 
“Linden, are…are they okay?” you heard yourself speak. 
He turned, trying to mask his expression, but you could see it in his eyes. He had witnessed the wreckage firsthand. He’d seen the EMTs and firefighters rescuing your friends. He knew. 
“Let the docs and nurses at the hospital tell you that, they’ll know more than me,” was his response.
Defeated, you followed him to his squad car, your body still leaning into Rhett. You climbed into the backseat together, and as soon as you were settled, you buried your face in your hands, trying desperately to hold yourself together. But you were unraveling, and the dread was threatening to swallow you whole. 
The hospital was in a frenzy when you arrived. So many people hurt in the storm. You heard murmurs of the tornado being an EF5, which made your eyes go wide as you looked at Rhett. It was a wonder you’d even made it to safety. 
Sitting there in that hospital waiting room was the most excruciating moment of your life. Hoping your friends would survive. Knowing that they might not. 
Rhett was on the verge of potentially losing his brother. And while his relationship with Perry had been tumultuous over the years, he cared about him deeply, and couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him. 
You sat side by side on vinyl-covered chairs, holding each other’s hands in a death grip, startling anytime a doctor or nurse walked by, thinking one of them was coming to give you an update. 
Finally, an update did come. 
You had no recollection of ending up on the floor. But there you were, crumbled against the cool tile as Rhett tried to console you, while simultaneously wracked with grief himself. 
They were dead. Lydia and Rebecca. They were dead, and they had been since they were pulled from the wreckage. Perry, however, was alive, but just barely holding onto life. 
The doctor was a family friend. He offered to contact yours and Rhett’s respective families. It was all a bur. And then you found yourself in Perry’s hospital room, which was stone silent, filled with dreadful anticipation. 
Your memory of that day was patchy at best. Your brain had filtered out some of the more traumatic parts, forcing you to forget. The weight of your anguish made it feel as if you were underwater, being pulled down by a cinder block tied to your ankle. No matter how hard you pedaled, you couldn’t come back up to the surface. 
Late into the night, Perry succumbed to his injuries, too. He slipped away, with his family surrounding him. Worst of it all? His four-year-old daughter was left an orphan in the wake of her parents’ deaths. 
You lost a piece of yourself when three of the dearest people in your life were taken from you. It sent both you and Rhett into a spiral. He blamed himself. You blamed yourself. It was something you could not move past. Every time you looked at him, it was a reminder of that fateful day a twister took everything from you. 
You couldn’t bear it any longer. So you ran. You left Rhett. You left all you had ever known. And you told yourself you would never come back. 
Present Day
Until now. 
You were hoping to go undetected. You weren’t sure if you could handle seeing anyone from your past. Least of all Rhett. With the way you left things between you and him, you doubted he wanted to see you anyway. 
But you should have known you couldn’t hide forever. 
You had been planning to stay in your aunt’s house while you were in town, but when you arrived and saw the dire state it was in, you realized sleeping there wasn’t feasible. So you decided to stay at the only motel in town. 
Before checking in, you needed to stop by the store to buy a few necessities that you had forgotten to pack. You wondered if anyone would recognize you. Had you changed much physically over the last six years? You thought you had, but maybe others wouldn’t notice the change. 
You managed to slip into the store without being recognized. You went about your entire shopping trip, remaining anonymous. You paid for your things without a single soul uttering your name. But just when you thought you were home free, you saw someone who made you stop dead in your tracks for the briefest of moments. 
Cecilia Abbott. 
Your heart rate picked up, anxiety sizzling through your veins like a live wire. She hadn’t seen you yet, too busy bagging her groceries to notice. Perhaps, if you were quick enough, you could evade her and make your escape. 
You almost did, too. Until you heard the sound of your name being called. 
You flinched, pausing for a moment, debating whether you should keep going. But then she was descending upon you and you had nowhere else to go. 
“It can’t be! After all these years?!” The woman exclaimed. 
Slowly, you turned around, trying your best to put on a pleasant expression, masking your look of distress. “Cece, hi!” You greeted. You had no idea how this was going to go. Would she be angry at you for walking out on her son? Would she welcome you back to town with open arms?
She stared at you in disbelief, shopping bag balanced in the crook of her elbow. “Goodness, how long’s it been?” But she knew how long it had been. She never lost count of how many years had passed since the death of her child. 
“Six years,” you heard yourself reply. You wanted to crawl out of your skin. 
“Wow. I can’t believe it.” Cecilia shook her head. “It’s almost like seein’ a ghost! Never thought you’d come back.”
“I didn’t either. But I, uh…I’m here cleaning out my aunt’s place.”
Her face softened, and she shifted, leaning toward you. “I’m sorry. She’ll be missed around here, that’s for sure. S’ a good thing you’re takin’ on the responsibility of cleanin’ that house, though. She did let it go in her old age.”
You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, she really wasn’t there mentally the last few years of her life. It’s sad. But, I’m hoping to have the house looking good as new when I’m done with it.”
Cecilia shifted her bag of groceries to her other hand. “Say, you got a place to stay while you’re in town?” 
“I was going to stay at the house, but it’s too much of a disaster. I’m just gonna get a motel room.” 
You should have known what she would say next. Gasping, she reached out and touched your arm. “Nonsense! You should come stay at our house!”
Your eyes widened. She wasn’t serious, was she? After all that had transpired? “Oh, I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 
But once Cecilia Abbott’s mind was set on something, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “No imposition at all! Home cooked meals, and a clean bed that doesn’t have bed bugs like that nasty ole motel does. The Bed Bug Inn, that’s what everyone calls it. Plus, we’re not that far from your aunt’s, just down the road. Closer than the motel is.”
She did have a point. But you couldn’t fathom the thought of stepping back onto the Abbott property again. You couldn’t face the demons you’d left there. “Cece, I appreciate it, but—”
“I insist. You at least need to come for dinner! I’m makin’ roast tonight, y’know, the one Rhett always loved? If you decide you still don’t want to stay after that, that’s fine. But you have to let me feed ya, I’m not gonna let you go hungry, girl.”
At the mention of Rhett’s name, your breath caught in your chest. “Oh, um… Rhett, how is he?” Your voice raised a little in pitch, and you cleared your throat. 
“He’s fine. Still livin’ in the house with us, but he’s gone all the time. Storm chasin’ business keeps him busy.”
He was still chasing? “I can’t believe he’s still going after storms,” you spoke in disbelief. 
Cecilia shrugged. “He never lost his love for it,” she mused. For a moment, there was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was remembering something. Likely the way she had lost her son to the very thing Rhett loved doing. 
Then she snapped out of it. “Anyway, come over for supper! Five o’clock!” Without giving you a chance to protest, she turned on her heel and bustled out of the store, leaving you with no choice but to take her up on her offer. You didn’t want to offend her by not showing up. 
But could you handle it? Stepping back into the past, into a version of yourself that you had not been in six years. You thought of Amy, Perry and Rebecca’s daughter. She would be nine years old by now. Would she even remember you? Would she blame you for the death of her parents?
Surely not. She had been four when they died. You doubted a four-year-old had the emotional or mental wherewithal to blame you for the loss of her parents.
But it wasn’t Amy you were afraid to be reunited with. Not really. You were utterly terrified at the thought of seeing Rhett again. Would he be happy to see you? Would he be angry? Hurt? Confused? What would he say to you? How would you respond?
All these questions swirled through your mind as you sauntered back to your car. Maybe he wouldn’t even be home. But if you chose to stay at the Abbott’s, you would likely run into him at some point. Besides, you weren’t sure how long you were going to remain in town. You felt like you were taking advantage of Cecilia’s kindness. So, you determined that you would only go over for dinner. You would not stay the night.
With that thought in mind, you climbed into your car and headed back to your aunt’s house. 
A few hours later, you were back in your car all over again, thrumming with anxiety, wondering if you were making the right decision. It would be so easy to turn back around, but you forced yourself to continue on, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel.
When you turned into the Abbott farm, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia so intense you slowed your car to a stop, staring at the house in the distance. It was the same as it had always been. A cozy house boasting of a well-kept garden, a bran off to the left with a nice coat of bright red paint. Chickens milled about the yard. Horses played in the field. Cows lowed in the distance. 
It still felt like home.
With a deep breath, you eased off the brake and urged your car down the long driveway. As you parked near the house, you caught sight of a young girl with honey-colored hair, swinging on the rope swing that was tied to the tree in the front. 
Your heart clenched in your chest. She’d grown so much. It was a reminder that life had continued in your absence. 
Upon seeing you, she hopped down, eyes alight with joy. “Gramma! Gramma!” She called, rushing into the house to alert Cecilia to your arrival.
You took a moment to steel yourself before you climbed out of the car, shoes crunching against dirt and gravel as you approached the porch. As you ascended the steps, you were once again greeted by the little girl. Amy.
“Hi!” She exclaimed. “I’m Amy. Gramma says you can come on in!”
You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Hi, Amy. It’s been a long time. Last time I saw you, you were this big!” You held your hand low, indicating her size.
“I don’t really remember you. But Gramma and Grampa do. They said you and Uncle Rhett used to date.”
You were slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly. “Uh, yeah…yeah, we did. That was a long time ago though.”
Amy shrugged. “I wish he was still dating you. You’re super pretty!” 
“Oh…thank you!” Was all you could say in reply. She certainly was prone to saying whatever came to mind. However, she moved on from it quickly, motioning you inside.
“C’mon!” She said, waving you on, and you moved to follow her, stopping at the door to take your shoes off before you ambled into the kitchen. 
The smell of food cooking made your stomach growl, and you realized only then that you were very hungry. A home-cooked meal would do you some good.
At the sound of your footsteps, Cecilia turned, her face lighting up at the sight of you. “You made it! I’m so glad. Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes.”
You smiled softly, nodding your head. “Is there anything I can do to help?” You wanted to make yourself useful, rather than standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. 
“You can help me set the table!” Amy chirped, already walking to the table with her arms full of plates. 
“Silverware’s in the drawer to the right of the sink,” Cecilia reminded you. But you remembered from the countless dinners you had been a part of here.
With a nod, you moved to gather enough cutlery for everyone, and as Amy set each plate down, you folded a napkin and placed the silverware upon it. You fell into a rhythm, stopping only to grab drinking glasses from the cupboard.
You noticed that the number of place settings was five. That had to mean Rhett was also joining the family for dinner, unless it was a place for someone else. You wanted to ask Cecilia if he was coming, but didn’t want to make things awkward, so you left it alone.
You were kept busy as she handed you different serving dishes full of various foods to put on the table. As you placed a basket of dinner rolls amongst the rest of the food, the sound of the back door opening caught your attention.
Your heart leapt in your chest, and you lifted your head, expecting to see Rhett. Instead, you were met with Royal’s look of surprise. Cecilia looked over at him and motioned to the sink. “Wash up, supper’s ready. We’ve got a guest.”
He nodded as he hung his hat on the peg on the wall, pausing to take off his muddy boots. “I’ll be damned,” he remarked, directing it at you. “Didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Saw her at the market today, so I invited her over. Didn’t tell ya because you an’ Rhett have been in that darn pasture with no signal all day.”
Royal hummed gruffly as he walked over to the sink to wash his hands. “Storm wiped that fence clean out. We had to replace every last post,” he sighed, “took us all day.”
“S’why we need to hire some hands, Roy,” Cecilia lowered her voice, but you still heard her.
Clearly this was something they talked about frequently, because he huffed and shook his head. But he didn’t continue the potential argument. Instead, he turned, drying his hands on a towel. His eyes regarded you kindly. “Been a long time,” he murmured. “Good to see you.”
You managed a smile. “Good to see you too.”
“Rhett on his way?” Cecilia questioned as she placed the final platter on the table.
Again, your heart fluttered anxiously at the mention of his name.
Royal nodded, pulling out the chair at the head of the table and taking a seat. “Yeah, he’s right behind me, he was just puttin’ up the horses.”
“Alrighty, we’ll wait to say grace until he comes in then.”
There it was again, that deep feeling of utter nostalgia. Cecilia had always been a religious woman, and not a meal went by where she didn’t pray over the food. That aspect hadn’t changed at all.
“You can sit here!” Amy announced, patting an open chair next to Royal. “Me and Uncle Rhett will sit across from you.”
You’d have to look into his face. You wouldn’t be able to hide your expressions from him. Rhett had always been so perceptive, more so than anyone gave him credit for. He was always considered to be aloof by those who didn’t bother to get to know him, but you knew that was far from the truth. 
There had been a time when you knew him like the back of your hand. You wondered just how much he’d changed, if at all. 
Just as you took your seat at the table, the squeak of the screen door opening filled the room, and the scrape of boots against linoleum followed. Seconds later, there he was. Blue flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows. Same brown hat he’d had since he was a teenager, which he pulled from his head to place on the hat peg. 
“Uncle Rhett! Uncle Rhett! We have a guest!” Amy exclaimed. 
He hadn’t turned yet. Didn’t know you were there. “Who’s that, li’l pea?”
“Your old girlfriend!” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.
He saw you then, and his eyes went wide. You swore the clock hanging over the sink stopped, causing time to stand still. Everyone else in the room faded into the background as Rhett became your sole focus.
Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, as if someone had taken their hands and squeezed the air right out of your lungs. In the background, you heard Cecilia talking, likely explaining that she’d seen you at the store and invited you over.
You doubted Rhett heard her, either. He was too busy staring at you.
Seeing him again brought so many overwhelming emotions to the surface. Pain. Sadness. Longing. And suddenly, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. You needed to bolt. 
Abruptly, you stood up, silently cursing yourself for your dramatics. “I–I’m so sorry, this was a mistake,” you squeaked, the legs of your chair scraping against the floor as you scrambled away from the table. 
And then you were fleeing. Just like you had six years ago. 
But this time, Rhett wasn’t going to let you go that easy. Shaking himself out of his momentary shock, his feet moved beneath him, carrying him after you. “Go ‘head an’ eat! I’m gonna talk to her!” He called over his shoulder to his family.
He threw open the front door, lurching out onto the porch. You were already at your car, wrenching the door open. “Wait!” He called out, dashing down the steps.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t want him to see. 
“Would ya just– just stop!” He reached out, hand against your door, impeding you from opening it. 
“Let go of my door, please.” You were surprised you had it in yourself to speak.
“Not until you look at me.”
You were afraid you’d fall apart if you did. “Rhett, please.”
A beat passed. Then another. You could feel his body heat, he was standing so close. You could smell the sweat and dirt that clung to him after a hard day’s work. But there was something else, too. Something sweeter. Like freshly baled hay. 
Against your better judgment, you found yourself turning, drawn to him like a magnet. Your eyes finally met his, and you gasped softly. They were even bluer than you remembered. So clear and bright. 
But there was so much emotion there, too. It swam within his irises, and you saw the glint of gathering tears. He drank in the sight of you, and his chest heaved as he took in a breath, then another. “I…I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered, as if speaking louder would cause his voice to fail him.
“Me too,” you agreed, as quiet as he was. There was so much you wanted to say. But most importantly, there were a few words he needed to hear. “I’m so sorry, Rhett.” You succumbed to your tears, as they slid down your cheeks in hot trails. 
His bottom lip quivered slightly, and he shook his head. “No, I…I should apologize. I shoulda been more understandin’. You were grievin’, same as me, and I wasn’t letting you do it in your own way. I made you feel like you had to run away, and I’m sorry.”
“Is that what you think? That it was your fault?” Your voice trembled. 
He shrugged, sniffling softly. “S’what I always assumed. Thought it had to be somethin’ I did.”
The thought of him living with that these last several years made your heart ache. “It was never your fault. It was me. I couldn’t face what happened. I thought…if I left, it would be easier. I could move on faster.”
Being reassured that it wasn’t his fault made him relax slightly, the tenseness leaving his shoulders. But there was still a shadow of sadness on his face. “Was it easier?”
At that, you shook your head, scoffing slightly. “No. Honestly, I think leaving you made it worse. I’m so sorry I did that to you. I’ve never really been able to forgive myself for it.”
“Guess we both have a lotta things we couldn’t forgive ourselves for,” he murmured. Then he bowed his head for a moment, gathering himself before looking at you again. “For what it’s worth, I ain’t holding it against you. Losin’ the three of them was the hardest fuckin’ thing we ever had to go through. I don’t blame you for leavin’ to see if it would make you feel better. You did what you thought you had t’ do.”
A fresh wave of tears welled in your eyes. “Oh, Rhett.” Without a second thought, you found yourself moving forward, wrapping your arms around him. He was caught by surprise for only a moment, and then his own arms, strong and steady, came up to encircle your waist. 
You stood there in the middle of the driveway, holding each other for what felt like hours. When you parted, you were both wiping at tear-streaked cheeks. 
“S’good to see you again, by the way,” Rhett said. “I mean it.”
“It’s good to see you too,” you replied honestly. Now that your initial upset was out of the way, you realized it felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. 
“What, uh, what are you doin’ back in town?”
“Cleaning out my great-aunt’s place,” came your answer, and he nodded in realization. “I ran into your mom at the store today, she invited me over. I didn’t really want to come, I was scared to face you again.”
He hummed in understanding. “She knew what she was doin’. She wanted us to talk. She’s a meddler like that.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. 
You couldn’t help but smile despite yourself. “I should’ve known it was a ruse. She’s convincing, that’s for sure. She’s also watching us right now.”
When Rhett turned, he found his whole family watching through the front window. Upon seeing him turn, they all rushed away from the window, dropping the curtain. 
He faced you again, and there was a smile on his face. “I’m glad she convinced ya, then. Can’t tell you how good it feels to clear the air after all this time. Losin’ you was rough on me, but I’m happy you’re back, even if it’s only for a small visit.” 
“I’m happy too. And I’m happy you stopped me from leaving this time.”
His eyes twinkled like stars, and he nodded toward the house. “Wanna head back in for supper?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Together, you walked back into the house. While there was so much you had missed in your time apart, and so much you still needed to reconcile with each other, you were relieved that the air was clear for the time being. You hadn’t expected Rhett to welcome you back with open arms, but you were thankful he had. 
It broke your heart that he had spent so much time believing he was to blame. It was your own inability to face your grief that was the culprit, not this sweet, blue-eyed cowboy. Never him. But maybe there was a new beginning between you. A chance to let the past remain where it belonged. 
When you stepped into the kitchen and took your seat at the table, the trio was pretending they hadn’t just been spying on you and Rhett. However, it was Amy who gave it away, giggling behind her hand. 
“You guys’re menaces,” Rhett grumbled as he placed a serving of potatoes on his plate. 
Cecilia tried to hide her smile, though ultimately failing. She looked at you, and her gaze was kind. “I’m sorry. Maybe I was a little…overzealous about makin’ sure you and Rhett saw each other again. But it worked, didn’t it?”
You couldn’t hold it against her. Without her meddling, you never would have spoken to Rhett. You likely would have done what you came to do and left town without a single glance in his direction. 
Cecilia had known that it was a chance for you to reconcile with Rhett. Holding on to something that happened years ago wasn’t healthy. She saw the opportunity to ease her son’s pain, and yours, and she took it. Thankfully, it had worked out in her favor. 
You couldn’t believe it had been that easy to reconcile with him. Even after you’d stormed off, upset, he’d still been willing to talk to you. It spoke volumes of his growth. Past Rhett wasn’t very good at communicating. But present Rhett seemed to have gotten much better at it. 
Dinner passed without a hitch, although there was still some slight tension. No one spoke of Perry, Rebecca, or Lydia. You got the sense that Royal and Cecilia were avoiding the subject. Likely because Amy was present. You had no idea how much she knew about that day, but you had no desire to bring it up. 
Conversation instead shifted to what you were doing with your life. 
“Where you workin’ now?” Royal asked, leaning back so that Cecilia could take his plate and clear the table in preparation for dessert. She’d denied your offer of help, insisting you sit and talk, because you were a guest. 
“I work for the National Weather Service, up in Silver Spring, Maryland.”
“No kiddin’?” He replied, eyes glimmering with intrigue. “What d’ya do there?”
You took a sip of your water before you answered. “I’m an analyst. I analyze weather data from all over the country. I work with a team and we try to predict, as best we can, what the weather is going to look like.”
“Sounds intense,” Rhett spoke up. You glanced over at him. He was leaning back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs. 
Until his mother slapped her dish towel against his arm. “Stop leanin’ back in that chair. The legs’ll give out.” 
He corrected his chair right away. You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. “It is kinda intense. But I love it. Keeps me on my toes,” came your reply. 
“Can’t take the storm chaser outta the girl, huh?” He hummed, catching your eye with a knowing look. 
He was right. Although you’d stopped chasing storms, you still did just that, except it was from a much safer distance this time, through a set of screens. There was no chance of those around you dying grisly deaths brought on by a wicked twister. 
“Guess not,” you finally agreed. 
Before the conversation could continue, Amy happily interrupted, flouncing up to the table to set down a handful of dessert plates. “Gramma made your favorite, Uncle Rhett,” she announced, beaming at him. 
He grinned, pulling her into his side as she squealed. “Did she?” He asked, laughter in his tone as he jabbed his fingers into her sides, while she laughed uncontrollably and tried to wriggle away from him. 
You watched the exchange, and your heart went warm in your chest. But you were also hit with a wave of sadness. This sweet little girl was growing up without a mother and father. These three people in this room were all she had in the world. 
“Y’alright?” Rhett’s voice jarred you, bringing you back to reality. You hadn’t realized that tears were making their way down your cheeks. 
“I…I’m fine,” you answered. 
“Alright, here’s some blackberry pie!” Cecilia’s voice rang across the kitchen, interrupting your moment of melancholy. But you were grateful for the distraction.  
The pie was cut, and everyone was given a slice, along with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and a cup of coffee. Conversation around the table shifted to Amy’s schooling, and she eagerly listed the number of weeks that were left of school. 
But you could feel Rhett’s eyes on you from across the table the entire time. The intensity of his gaze made you feel as if he could see right into your soul. That was how it had always been. Looking at him felt like staring into the sun, at times. So bright and beautiful, but impossible to stare at. 
That hadn’t changed, even years later. Same intense look. 
When dessert was finished, Amy got up to help Cecilia clear the table. Royal headed upstairs to presumably get ready for bed. And Rhett stepped outside onto the front porch. 
“Can I at least help you clean up for the night, Cece?” You asked, hoping to do something, anything to feel useful. 
“Don’t you lift a finger. Amy and I have got it.” 
“You sure?”
“‘Course I’m sure,” the woman insisted. Then, “Have you given any thought as to if you might stay here?”
You hesitated. “Oh, I, uh…I don’t know. I really don’t want to be a bother.”
She huffed, shaking her head. “I already told ya at the store, it’s no bother! ‘Sides, it’s gonna be dark soon, and it gets so pitch black out here, drivin’ into town isn’t safe. And if you stay, you’d be wakin’ up to a home-cooked breakfast in the mornin’.”
With a sigh, you finally relented. Mostly because you were too tired to argue with her. “You drive a hard bargain. Fine, I’ll stay.” It was a good thing you hadn’t taken your luggage out of the car yet. 
Cecilia beamed. “Then it’s settled.”
“I’ll just go get my stuff from the car,” you remarked, already turning to put your shoes back on. 
“Have Rhett help you. I think he just stepped out onto the porch,” she suggested. 
With a nod, you made your way out the door, hinges squeaking as you stepped onto the porch, shoes thudding lightly against weather-worn wood. 
Sure enough, Rhett was there, seated on the bench near the door. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and he was leaning back, eyes fixed on the sky. 
When you came out, his gaze shifted to you, and he smiled softly. “Hey,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. 
“Hey.” An awkward silence soon followed. There was so much hanging in the air between you both. Words left unsaid. “Your momma asked me to stay the night.”
He hummed, nodding as he looked back out across the sprawling land that was the Abbott farm. “Figured she would. Her and that bleedin’ heart of hers.”
“She suckered me into it with the promise of a home cooked breakfast.”
He scoffed playfully. “You get a home cooked breakfast and I get a piece of fuckin’ toast.”
“I’ll share with you.”
His smile turned into a grin. Then he fell serious. “Speakin’ of sharing, you can sleep in my room.”
At that, you shook your head. “Oh no, that’s asking too much. Isn’t there a pull-out bed in the living room couch? I can sleep there instead. It’s where I used to sleep when I’d stay over, remember?”
“Boy, do I,” he hummed. When you were teenagers, Cecilia was insistent that you did not share a bed if you stayed the night. You’d sleep on the pull-out bed in the living room, far away from Rhett’s bedroom upstairs. It didn’t stop him from sneaking down to talk to you in the middle of the night, though. 
He continued, “But ya already served your time on that old couch. I’ll sleep there. My bed’s all yours.”
“Rhett—”
“Hey now, don’t argue with me. We both know I always win ‘em anyway.” 
You rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest as you shook your head. He was right, after all. He’d always win you over with kisses dispersed all over your face until you relented with laughter. 
“Fine. I’ll take your room then,” you replied. 
He hummed in satisfaction, and silence fell between you again. It felt so strange, being back in his presence. You felt as if you didn’t belong here, on this porch with him in the late spring night. In your anxious imaginations, you had always assumed he’d never reconcile with you, so you never tried to reach out and make things right. 
But all it had taken was one tearful conversation, and a sense of civility had been restored between you. 
“Why did you forgive me so easily?” Came your question, spoken into the quiet air that hummed with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. 
Rhett eyes flickered to you. “Because I spent too long wallowin’ in hurt, and I couldn’t handle carryin’ all of it anymore. I don’t wanna be stuck in the past. I want to move forward. Forgivin’ you is the best way to do that.” Then he added, “plus, I never could stay mad at you. Guess that still holds true to this day.”
Tears welled in your eyes again as you digested his words. You hated that you’d caused him so much pain. If only you’d been able to work through your grief instead of running from it. But that was in the past. There was nothing you could do to change it. However, you could use it to be a better person in the future. 
“I’m sorry I—”
But he held up his hand. “Don’t need to ‘pologize again,” he assured you, gentleness in his tone. 
You closed your mouth and nodded, and then you decided to take a seat next to him. Several minutes of silence passed again. Again, you were the one to break it. 
“I’m glad I decided to come tonight. I almost didn’t take your ma up on it.”
“I’m glad y’ did too.” He turned his body toward you so he could look into your face. “Six years is a long time.”
“It really is. I can’t believe it’s been that long. And Amy…she’s gotten so big.”
“She has. That little girl’s the apple of Mom and Dad’s eye, I’ll tell you what.”
You couldn’t help but smile fondly. “Looks like she’s the apple of yours, too.”
Rhett made a noise of agreement. “I see ‘em in her. Bec and Perry, that is. She’s a bit of a firecracker. Takes after her dad in that way. But she’s smart as a whip, we’re talkin’ wicked smart, like her momma. And some of the things she says, the tone she says them in…god, it sounds just like Bec.”
“It must be so cool to see them live on in her like that,” you whispered. 
“It is. But it’s hard, too. Thinkin’ about the way things would be if they were still here.”
“Does she remember them?”
He shrugged, shifting his gaze to the night sky above you, shimmering with stars. “Bits an’ pieces. She doesn’t remember whole details. Plus she was so small…I don’t rightly know what she pictures in her head when she talks about it.”
Your heart broke for the girl. “Poor thing.”
Rhett nodded his head. “I know. But she’s doin’ alright. Brings a lotta joy into our lives.” Even in the dim light, you could see the way his eyes sparkled with love. Family had always been so important to him. Even more so now that he’d lost part of it. 
You had to swallow the urge to cry. “That’s good.”
A beat passed before Rhett changed the subject, eager to move on to lighter conversation. “So…weather analyst, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 
That drew a shy smile out of you. “It’s no big thing. I have a whole team of people who work with me.”
“It’s a pretty damn big deal to me. You an’ that smart brain of yours. It’s no wonder you want on to work for the fuckin’ National Weather Service.”
At his compliment, you ducked your head, a little embarrassed. “I really like the job. It’s kinda stressful, though. Weather never takes a break like us human beings do.”
“You’re tellin’ me. You shoulda seen the storms that rolled through here last week. One right after another.”
That prompted you to ask the question you’d been dying to know the answer to all night. “Your mom said you’re still chasing.”
Rhett nodded his head as he shifted against the bench, wood creaking beneath his weight. “Yeah. It ain’t just me, either. I’ve got a whole team workin’ with me.”
Your gaze fell to your lap, where your hands were loosely clasped. “Was it…was it hard getting back to it, after they died?” You softly questioned. That was why you’d never gone back to storm chasing. You couldn’t bear the thought of doing so after all you'd lost. 
“Sure was. I didn’t start back up until a year later. That first time I got back out there…man, I almost couldn’t do it. I just kept thinkin’ of them. But then it sorta turned into a way to honor them an’ keep their memory alive. So I’ve been doin’ it ever since.”
“That’s good you were able to get back into it.”
“How ‘bout you? Been out there runnin’ after any storms lately?”
“No,” you answered quickly. The thought made your stomach turn. 
“Y’ should join us next time it storms,” came his suggestion. 
“I’d rather not.” You were hoping he would drop it. 
“C’mon, it’ll be like old times.”
“I don’t want it to be like old times. We lost three of our best friends during old times. I can’t…I can’t face another tornado. I’m scared to death of them now. I’ll never storm chase ever again.” You were on the verge of tears.
He got the message then. “Alright, fair enough. Didn’t mean to upset ya.”
You sighed, shoulders dropping. “You didn’t upset me. It’s just more of a sore subject than I realized,” you said. Then, “and now that I’m back here, I’m so scared more twisters will come through.”
Rhett understood where you were coming from. But he also believed in facing one’s fears. For the most part, at least. There were still some things that filled him with fear that he couldn’t bear to face. 
“More will definitely come. They ain’t been that bad this season so far. Last week was rough though. Had a couple EF3s that hit some neighborin’ towns. We’ve been helpin’ out a lot. The team I’m workin’ with…they’re big into charity. We’ve been able to donate to people who lost their homes. We’re hopin’ to raise enough money to get building supplies that can help rebuild all the damaged homes.”
You raised a brow, surprised. Not over the fact that Rhett wanted to help people in surrounding communities, but over the fact that his team had done so much. That was more than you’d ever been able to do when you were chasing with Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. 
“That’s really amazing,” you remarked. 
“Yeah. Hate seein’ the damage twisters can do, but I’m glad we can at least do somethin’ to help, even if it’s small.”
You had so many more questions about his storm chasing. But you also wanted to change the subject. Your heart was heavy from the old memories going through your mind. So, you asked about another thing that was part of the past.
“Did you ever go back to bull riding?”
Rhett let out a sharp breath, suddenly finding a small tear in his jeans very interesting, fingers sliding over the work fabric. “Hell no.”
“I always wondered about that. If you’d gone back to it after I left.”
“Nah. Never could stomach the thought of gettin’ back on one of them beasts.”
“Yet you’ll chase twisters with no problem.”
“That’s different.”
“How? Both could kill you.”
Rhett didn’t have an answer for that. But he did know he never wanted to experience what he’d been through in that arena all those years ago. 
It happened before you’d started storm chasing together. He was gunning for a career in pro bull riding, and he was headed toward the top. He had it all. Until it came crashing down one night when he suffered a life-threatening injury when he didn’t get out of the way of an angry bull fast enough. 
You’d never forget that night. And neither would he. You’d been volunteering at the rodeo. You were certified in first aid, and you were able to work alongside the on-site medics tending to riders with injuries, so you had access to the riders-only area. 
But what Rhett suffered was no minor injury. The bull’s horn caught him right beneath the hem of his protective vest, impaling the soft flesh of his lower abdomen. You remembered so vividly the way you’d cried out his name. The way he’d been carried out on a stretcher. 
You remembered tearing his vest off of him and seeing blood. So much blood. You remembered pressing your hands to the wound in an effort to slow the bleeding as he grew pale beneath you. You remembered begging him to hold on, assuring him that help was on the way. 
You almost lost him that night. 
The injury scared the hell out of him. It required surgery to repair the internal damage, and it took him out of riding for months. And by the time the doctor cleared him to ride again, he knew he couldn’t. Not after he’d stared death in the face. 
He had a permanent scar on his abdomen, a reminder of what he had endured. 
Rhett never wanted to experience that again. So he hung up his riding vest for good. But he was still a thrill seeker. And when you expressed an interest in storm chasing, he’d eagerly agreed, because it gave him a chance to feel alive again, just like he always felt when he was sitting on the back of a raging bull. 
Now you had traded places. He was too afraid to mount another bull. You were too afraid to go after another twister. It seemed that you had more in common than you realized.
“Guess we’re both scared of something,” you remarked, wrapping your arms around yourself as the evening chill crept up on you like the chilled fingers of a ghost touching your skin. 
“Guess so,” Rhett agreed.
Your conversation fell stagnant, and you found yourself growing sleepy. You had only just arrived back in Oklahoma that morning, and the night before, you hadn’t slept well. The exhaustion was beginning to catch up with you. 
“I should probably turn in before I fall asleep out here,” you mumbled, followed by a yawn. 
Rhett made a sound deep in his throat before he rolled his neck, joints cracking. “I’ll help ya with your stuff,” he offered as he stood. 
You followed suit, motioning to your car. The two of you headed down the porch steps, where you popped the trunk, revealing your luggage. You watched as Rhett heaved the bags out of the car, his forearms and biceps bulging beneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt. 
You were reminded that he was still just as strong as ever. Lifting your suitcases hardly took that much strength, you knew, but Rhett was a farm boy. He’d been strong his entire life, thanks to lifting bales of hay and performing other tasks of manual labor. When he was riding bulls, his core and leg strength had been excellent. Those strong thighs of his allowed him to hold tightly to those raging animals. 
He’d taken on some size since you’d seen him six years ago. His shoulders were more broad. His arms were bigger. His thighs were meatier. Or maybe his jeans were simply too tight, hugging the curve of his quad muscles.
In the kitchen, you hadn’t fully admired him. But here, beneath the night sky, illuminated by the glow of the porch light, you saw him. His stubbled jaw, his twinkling eyes, his small pink mouth the button nose you’d always loved. 
You remembered teasing him and telling him he had an elfin nose, that he had inherited it from a mystical creature. You had adored the way his ears would turn red whenever you said it.
Oh, how things had changed. There had been a time when you couldn’t picture your life without him. And now, you’d been without him for so long that you’d forgotten what it felt like to love and be loved by him.
“Y’alright?” Rhett’s voice jarred you, and you shook yourself out of your reverie.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sorry. Just sorta zoned out.”
The knowing look in his eye told you he’d caught on to the fact that you were staring at him.
“C’mon, I’ll take you upstairs.” With that, he slammed your trunk shut and gathered your bags again before he headed toward the house.
You trailed after him, closing and locking the front door behind you, assuming everyone was in for the night. Then you ascended the stairs, allowing Rhett to lead you down the hall, all the way to the end, where his room was.
He nudged the partially open door with his foot, and stepped into the dark confines, depositing your luggage onto the bed before he bent to turn on the bedside lamp. You were met with the sight of a surprisingly neat bedroom.
The times you’d been here in the past, his room had never been terribly messy, but random clutter would accumulate in different corners. He was never really the type to make his bed either, because he always said, “I’m gon’ sleep in it again, so why bother?”
But now, the bed was neatly made, and hardly any clutter hid in the corners. 
“I ain’t been stayin’ here much, so it stays pretty neat,” he explained, as if reading your mind. 
“Too busy storm chasing?” You asked.
“Yeah. Stay in a lotta motels when I’m on the road.”
You sauntered into the room, taking in the coziness of it all. Hardly anything had changed. His plaid bedspread was the same. His curtains still matched the bedding. Art pieces of cowboys riding bulls decorated the walls. A picture of Lane Frost hung just above his desk.
A sense of nostalgia washed over you. Being in this room felt like coming home.
“Welp…guess I’ll, uh, let you get to bed,” Rhett murmured. He paused in the doorway, as if he wanted to say something. “I’m glad you’re back, by the way.”
That brought a smile to your face. “I am, too.”
He rapped his knuckles against the door frame. “Anyway, ‘night.”
“Goodnight.”
He reached out to pull the door shut, leaving you in silence, alone for the first time since you had arrived at the house. You let out a breath, and lowered down to sit on the edge of the bed, allowing yourself to process everything.  
Your arms splayed out on either side of you, palms skimming over the softness of the bed. You closed your eyes, and allowed the memories to wash over you. It was here, in this very bed, that you had lost your virginity to each other. You were young and in love and driven by your passion for one another.
Many times after that, you had made love in this room. And as you closed your eyes, it was as if you were reliving those memories. The feeling of his mouth on yours, and his hands on your heated skin. The way he would moan your name into your mouth when you shifted your hips against his own, searching for delicious friction, so eager to have him inside you.
As your eyes fluttered open, you were struck with a feeling of emptiness. How long had it been since you’d been with anyone in such an intimate way? Your job hardly left you time for romantic relationships. You hadn’t really put yourself out there, because you knew your busy career would likely deter anyone who wanted any sort of future with you.
As you readied yourself for bed, you thought about how alone you had felt these last few years. Alone in your grief. In your pain. At least Rhett had his parents to lean on as they endured the loss. You had no one who truly understood. 
Silver Spring was a perfectly nice community to live in, and you had made some good friends during your time there. But nothing compared to the community you once had here in Wabang. No one compared to Lydia, your dearest friend. Your bond had been a sisterly one. You were kindred spirits. You’d never been able to find that again in any of the friends you made in your current home city.
But now that you were back in Oklahoma, the sense of familiarity was nearly overwhelming. You were home. Even if you didn’t realize it yet.
That night, you got the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time. Rhett’s bed was comfortable, and the house was quiet. All that could be heard outside was the distant howl of a coyote, and the sounds of nightlife creeping about.
When you woke the next morning, it was to the sound of a rooster crowing. You lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, relishing in the feeling of being rested. Your body didn’t ache. Your head wasn’t swimming with tiredness. You were at peace, which was something you hadn’t felt in ages.
You could hear the sound of the Abbotts milling about the house. Cecilia was likely in the kitchen starting breakfast. Royal was probably already outside, getting a head start on the day’s chores. Rhett, too, who’d always been responsible for checking on the animals and making sure they were fed.
Not wanting to walk out in your tank top and sleep shorts, you were quick to throw on some clean clothes before you headed across the hall to the bathroom to wash your face and make yourself look somewhat presentable.
When you finally made your way downstairs, you were hit with the smell of food cooking. The coffee pot hissed and sputtered in the corner, nearly finished with its brew cycle. Amy sat at the table, doodling in a notebook. When she saw you, her face lit up.
“Mornin’! I was wondering when you’d come down! You slept for a super long time.”
“Amy,” Cecilia cautioned.
“It’s okay,” you assured her, before turning to Amy, “I needed the rest.”
“Well you came down just in time! Gramma’s making pancakes.”
“Sounds good!” Came your response, as you moved to grab a glass from the cupboard to fill with water. Your mouth felt parched.
“How’d you sleep, hon?” Cecilia asked as she stirred a bowl of pancake batter.
“Like a baby,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips to take a sip. You watched as she poured the batter onto a hot skillet, bubbling with melted butter. “Just so you know, I don’t expect you to make breakfast for me every day. I know you only make big breakfasts on Saturdays and Sundays, I don’t expect pancakes and eggs and bacon every day of the week.”
It was Thursday, so it wasn’t a typical day for her to make breakfast for the family. The weekday mornings were always called “fend for yourself” mornings, where the family was responsible for preparing their own respective breakfasts.
“Nonsense! I’m happy to do it, you need fuel if you’re gonna be cleanin’ that house all day,” she insisted.
You smiled gratefully. “Thank you. Really, it means a lot.”
She ushered you to the table, assuring you breakfast would be ready momentarily. You chatted with Amy once you settled into your seat, and just as breakfast was being put on the table, the screen door squealed open, and in stepped Royal, lifting his hat off his head and placing it on the peg on the wall.
He greeted you, nodding in your direction. “Mornin’,” he said as he took his seat at the head of the table.
Cecilia placed a cup of black coffee beside his plate, and he thanked her with a wordless hum. Typical morning small talk followed as everyone began filling their plates. But the quiet chatter was soon interrupted by the screen door opening again.
Rhett hurried into the kitchen, boots scraping against the floor as he made a beeline for the table. You could see a wildness in his eyes, and it made your heart rate quicken. Your gaze flickered to the kitchen window, where you could see distant gray clouds. 
“Gotta take breakfast to go, storm’s brewin’ over in Cimarron County,” he announced as he reached over Amy’s head to grab a pancake. He shoved a few pieces of bacon inside and folded it up like a taco. “Team’s on the way here to meet me.”
“Please be careful!” Cecilia called after him as he turned on his heel to head back to the door. 
He grabbed a backpack that was sitting on the bench in the entryway, presumably packed with necessities. “Always am, Ma,” he replied. Then he looked at you, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “You wanna come?” Hope was in his tone.
His offer shocked you. You certainly didn’t expect it, not after what you had told him last night. “No, I…I’ll stay here,” you answered.
“Alright, see ya soon!” And with that, he was off, door slamming shut behind him.
You weren’t sure what drove you to do so, but you found yourself surging up from your seat, feet carrying you quickly to the door. You flung it open and rushed out onto the porch. “Rhett!” You called. 
Midway to his truck, he stopped, whirling around. “Yeah?”
“Be safe!” He’d just come back into your life. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.
His face softened, and he smiled. “I will be. I promise.” Then he turned and continued on to his truck. Still that old GMC Sierra with the light bar on top. It had been blown off the road during the twister you’d narrowly escaped, but somehow, the truck was perfectly fine, and just needed a few repairs to render it driveable again.
Seeing that it had survived after all this time gave you hope that Rhett would make it back safely home again. 
He was gone for three days. You learned of his well-being through Cecilia. He would always text her after a storm passed to assure her he was okay. He was so good about giving her peace of mind. 
In his absence, you busied yourself with sorting through the overwhelming clutter in your great-aunt’s house. It provided a distraction from your worry. 
Living in Silver Spring, you’d had no cause to worry about Rhett. He crossed your mind often, yes, but you had no idea he was still storm chasing, and therefore remained blissfully ignorant. 
Now that you were back home, all those old memories had resurfaced, and you were forced to face the fact that you still cared deeply for Rhett. The thought of him dying out there made your stomach turn. 
At least when you’d been chasing with him, you were together, and he would die by your side if something did happen. Being apart from him now, you had no idea if he was okay or not, aside from updates from his mother. 
You were forced to come to terms with your feelings. Why did you feel so strongly about this? Yes, you cared about what happened to him, just as anyone else in his life did. But there was something more. 
You realized that perhaps you were still in love with him. 
However, you buried that realization deep. You couldn’t rekindle your romance with him. You had moved on, made a life for yourself, had a career you loved. You needed to leave your relationship with him in the past, and move forward with only a friendship between the two of you. 
Easy as pie, right? 
You hoped so. 
Three days later, just as you were arriving back on the Abbott farm after a long day of cleaning and organizing, Rhett returned. 
Relief washed over you from head to toe when you saw that old Sierra coming down the driveway. But he wasn’t alone. You could make out the silhouette of a woman sitting in the passenger seat. Behind the truck, a Ford F150 followed closely behind, and beyond that, an old RV. 
So this was the team he’d been talking about. 
Your gut fluttered at the sudden anxiety of meeting new people. You knew you looked worse for wear in your cleaning clothes. You’d been sweating all day, and you were planning on heading straight for the shower when you got into the house. 
But it would be rude to just turn and go inside, so you stayed put, waiting until all the vehicles came to a stop. 
Rhett jumped out first, slamming the truck door shut behind him. He was wearing his hat, and he was grinning. “Made it back in one piece,” he assured you. 
You couldn’t help but smile in return. “I can see that,” came your answer. 
Your eyes flickered beyond him as the woman in the passenger seat climbed out. She was beautiful, in the most natural of ways. No makeup adorned her face. Her eyes were large, the deepest shade of brown you’d ever seen. Her hair, a deep chestnut color, was curly and unkempt, pulled back into a ponytail. 
Her deep brown skin glimmered with perspiration. You could hazard a guess that the air conditioning in Rhett’s truck was broken. It always had been finicky. 
“Hi,” she spoke, reaching out her hand to shake yours, “I’m Zara Marshall. Nice to finally meet you! Rhett told me all about you.” Then she added, “good things, of course!”
“Nice to meet you, too. I didn’t realize you all were coming. I would’ve at least tried to look presentable.”
“Oh, you look beautiful, don’t even worry about that.” She blew a stray curl out of her face. 
“Zara here is the genius behind all our chases,” Rhett boasted. 
The woman looked at him and beamed, shaking her head. “Oh, hush. I’m no genius.”
An odd feeling blossomed to life in your chest as you watched their banter. The easy way they interacted. It wasn’t jealousy, was it? It couldn’t be. You had no right to be jealous. Not after you were the one that left him six years ago. 
Your moment of distaste was interrupted by the sound of car doors opening and closing. The rest of the team was getting out of their vehicles, clearly eager to stretch their legs after driving for so long. 
“You have to meet my wife!” Zara exclaimed. 
Oh. 
How silly of you to entertain the thought of jealousy when the woman wasn’t even interested in Rhett. 
Another woman came rushing over to the three of you, tall and lean, shoulder-length brown hair hanging loosely against the middle of her back, Tattoos decorated different parts of her body. Mostly her hands and wrists, and a few on her neck. When she smiled at you, it was warm like sunlight. 
“Hi!” She said, “I’m Jeslyn.”
You shook her hand and told her your name. Then you were quickly introduced to everyone else. 
There was Finn, handsome as could be, with bright green eyes and auburn hair. And then there was Danny, with eyes that were just a little less blue than Rhett’s, and graying curls that fell against his forehead. He couldn’t have been older than his early thirties, but he was already going gray. It suited him.
They were all so personable, and their welcome was warm. It made you feel at ease instantly. You should have known the people who chose to associate with Rhett were good people.
You learned that they were all staying for dinner, per Cecilia’s insistence. It was a flurry of organized chaos as everyone offered to help set up the tables outside, rather than crowding in the small kitchen to eat. 
While they were busy with that, you slipped away to take a quick shower, eager to wash the sweat and grime off of your body. 
You turned the water as hot as you could stand, stepping under the spray and closing your eyes. You hadn’t expected to be so exhausted. Your shoulders and arms ached from scrubbing and heavy lifting. Your legs were sore too. 
The steamy water helped loosen your tight muscles considerably, and once you were finished, you breathed out a sigh of satisfaction. Now you felt a little more prepared to face a dinner table full of people. 
But when you stepped out of the shower, you realized that you had forgotten something very important. A towel. Swearing under your breath, you stood in the middle of the bathroom for a moment, debating what you should do.
The linen closet was right across the hall. If you could sneak out there unseen, you’d be able to grab a towel and slip right back into the bathroom unnoticed. So, you cautiously opened the bathroom door and made sure the coast was clear before you dashed for the closet, yanking the door open and scanning for a towel.
To your horror, the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard, and you gasped, reaching for your towel, but you weren’t fast enough. A split second later, Rhett appeared at the top of the steps.
He froze, eyes widening, as you let out a squeak of surprise. Out of respect for you, he quickly turned away. “Shit, sorry!” He apologized.
Wordlessly, you clutched your towel and scurried away, slamming the bathroom door shut. On the steps, Rhett let out a breath, and he couldn’t help but shake his head. He hadn’t seen you naked in years. Of course the first time would end up being an awkward moment like the one you’d both just been subjected to.
He hadn’t seen much, in his haste to give you privacy. But he’d seen enough to make his brain short-circuit for a moment. Mentally, he scolded himself, but he knew, now that he’d seen you in that way, he wouldn’t be able to get it out of his head. Especially because there had been a time when he knew your body, inside and out. He’d had you in the most intimate of ways. And that was something he would never forget.
“Get it the fuck t’gether,” he grumbled to himself as he turned back around, heading toward his room, where he wanted to grab a clean shirt before you came back. He simply couldn’t entertain thoughts about you naked. It would do him no good. 
He shook the encounter off, and quickly changed his shirt, tossing the old one in the hamper. He stopped to glance in the mirror that hung above his dresser, running his hand haphazardly through his hair, which was slightly tousled from all the activity of the day. 
Then, quick as he came, he strolled out of his room and back down the steps before you ever stepped out of the bathroom again. 
Meanwhile, you were hurriedly going about your post-shower routine, your mind spinning. You knew you were making this into a bigger deal than it needed to be. Perhaps you should be grateful it was only Rhett, who’d seen you naked many times before, rather than his parents or Amy. 
But you still had an odd feeling swirling to life in your gut, a feeling that you didn’t want to face, because if you did, that would mean admitting you’d never gotten over Rhett. 
You pushed it down again. Choosing to deny, deny, deny. It would simply go away if you didn’t acknowledge it. 
With that, you headed out of the bathroom and back into Rhett’s bedroom, where you set your shower items down and made sure to hang your towel on the hook mounted on the back of the door. 
Then, with a deep breath for courage, you made your way downstairs. 
There was a flurry of activity happening. Cecilia was prepping Sunday dinner, while Zara and Jeslyn were gathering plates and silverware to set the table outside. Danny, Finn, and Rhett were carrying chairs outside.
Royal and Amy were in the living room, where she was very intently watching him whittle a figurine out of wood. Cecilia had likely shooed them out of the kitchen because there were enough people in the way as it was. 
For a moment, you stood there, in the middle of the house, taking in the sights and sounds, and it transported you back to the past. Sunday dinners with the Abbotts were always your favorite. Lydia and her family would join, and everyone would eat outside, weather permitting, just like they were going to do today. 
Many a good time was had around the large oak table that Rhett had built with his own hands when he was in high school, in woodworking class. One of the of the few classes he thrived in. The craftsmanship was beautiful, and it was still in good condition to this day. 
“Hey, y’alright?” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. You looked up to find him standing near, gaze soft. 
“I…yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “just reminiscing.”
He nodded. “Mm. Sure this brings back a lotta memories for you.”
“It does,” you agreed. 
He lingered for a moment. Then, with the lowering of his voice, he said, “I, uh, I’m sorry about earlier. Didn’t mean to walk in on ya like that.”
You cleared your throat, shaking your head. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”
“Good. That’s good.” He let his hands rest upon his hips, grimacing at the awkward silence that followed. 
“Guess I’d better see if your mom needs help,” you finally volunteered. 
“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m gon’ make sure the guys set up the table right.” He took a few steps backward before he turned and sauntered out the door. 
You breathed out a sigh, mentally berating yourself for the awkwardness. You hoped it wouldn’t linger for the rest of the day. 
Thankfully, it did not. Once dinner was ready and everyone was gathered around the table, the atmosphere melted into one of warmth and laughter. You didn’t feel like an outsider. The group of friends treated you like one of your own, and it did wonders to put you at ease. 
“I thought you’d like t’ hear this,” Rhett’s voice caught your attention from across the table. “Zara here’s workin’ on a way to stop twisters dead in their tracks.”
That definitely piqued your interest. You looked at her, where she sat between Rhett and Jeslyn. “Really? How do you plan to stop them?” You asked her, leaning forward in your seat. 
Tornadoes were impossible to stop. To your knowledge, no one had succeeded in doing so before. They were so unpredictable, one couldn’t possibly figure out when and where one was going to touch down fast enough to stop it. 
She sprang into her explanation. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s never been done before. But Jes and I have spent years coming up with a solution. There’s a lot of heat and moisture at the center of a twister. My theory is if you can cool down the center to the freezing point, you can stop the twister.”
You stared at her, eyes widening. There was no way it could work. Was there? “How would you cool it down?”
“Essentially, we release liquid nitrogen into the core of the tornado and it brings the temp way down.”
“Have you tested it out yet?” You inquired. You were still skeptical, but fascinated at the same time. 
Beside her, Jeslyn piped up. “We started small scale tests when we were still students at OU. Me, Zara, and some classmates built this machine that uses heat and moisture to simulate a tornado. Our nitrogen tests worked on it, but seeing as that was only a small, contained event…”
“You’d need a lot more nitrogen for the real thing,” you finished for her. 
“Yep.”
Zara continued where Jeslyn left off. “During the run we did this week, we decided to actually test it out and see if we could stop a twister. But…it failed miserably.” She laughed ruefully, and the rest of the team joined her, reliving the memory. 
You were struck with an odd feeling. Fear of missing out, maybe. Which shocked you, because you’d refused to go on the chase in the first place, because you couldn’t face your fears. Now you felt left out? It didn’t quite make sense to you. 
Maybe you did miss storm chasing, after all. 
“It’s hard to gauge how much nitrogen we need, especially because every tornado is different. We’ve been working on collecting as many tanks of nitrogen as we possibly can, but we also didn’t want to use up our whole reserve. We used half of it on what turned out to be an F3. Didn’t do shit,” Zara continued to explain, motioning animatedly with her hands as she spoke. Her face was incredibly expressive. 
You decided you really liked her. You could understand why Rhett enjoyed chasing with her. 
“So, how does that work? Like, do you set tanks of nitrogen on the ground and then open them and hope for the best, or?” You had so many questions, and you simply couldn’t hide your fascination. 
“We use that,” Rhett said, pointing over at his truck parked in the driveway. Hitched to the back was an open trailer, with several tanks of liquid nitrogen situated inside, metal gleaming in the light of the setting sun. 
“But how do you open them? Does someone have to open each one before the twister hits?” You suddenly became very aware of everyone’s eyes on you, and you shrank slightly. “Sorry, I know I’m asking a lot of questions.”
“No, you’re good!” Zara insisted, “it’s just, we’re all used to people telling us we’re crazy instead of actually showing interest.”
“I told ya she’d think it was cool,” Rhett said to her with a smile. He caught your eye. He still knew you well, even though time had driven you apart. 
“Basically, opening the tanks is up to us,” Finn piped up from beside you, motioning to Danny, who sat on the other side of him. He took a swig of his water before he continued. “We made these special remote control valves. As long as we’re within range, we can open the valves with the touch of a button and release the nitrogen into the air.”
“Honestly, it sounds crazy. But also brilliant,” you said, completely in awe. “You gotta show me all the equipment after dinner. I’ve never heard of anyone doing this kinda thing before.”
Part of you still doubted what they were trying to do would ever work. It went against all odds. Even if they did succeed in stopping a tornado, the method wasn’t necessarily feasible for stopping others in the future. It would require countless tanks of nitrogen and a lot of manpower. 
But just to be able to say one had stopped a tornado was a feat in and of itself. You couldn’t hold it against Zara for trying. It was clear she was passionate about her work and believed there was a possibility that it could be successful. 
The conversation around the dinner table soon shifted to other things. You noticed that none of them asked you about your storm chasing past. You wondered how much Rhett had told them, and if he’d instructed them not to ask about the details, at risk of upsetting you. 
It was very considerate of him, if he had. 
After dinner, everyone helped clean up while Cecilia ushered Amy upstairs, against the girl’s protests. “You’ve got school in the mornin’, early bedtime isn’t optional!” Her grandmother insisted. 
But Amy had to make sure she said goodnight to everyone first before she made the reluctant trudge up the stairs. Oh, to have the innocence of a child again, unwilling to go to bed because all the adults were still awake.
The evening carried on, and once the dishes were washed and the table was cleared, you were led outside to see all the equipment Zara had told you about. And what a setup it was.
The trailer attached to the back of Rhett’s truck was full of nitrogen tanks, sealed with remote controlled valves. The trailer itself was also remote controlled, according to Rhett. 
“Come see,” he motioned for you to follow as he opened the driver’s side door. He pointed at the center console, where there was a board of switches, framed by labels indicating what each switch was for. “Danny and Finn helped get this up an’ running. If we need t’ let the trailer go, all I gotta do is press a button and it’ll release. S’how we get the tanks in the path of the twister.”
You stared in amazement at the device. “How? Like, how do you figure out when to release the trailer? And how does it not just get blown away?”
A grin tugged at his mouth. “Figured that one out too.”
He led you to the side of the trailer, where he pointed at a compartment positioned directly between the wheels. “Soon as I get the trailer in place, I flip a switch and stakes lower outta this compartment here and into the ground. Usually we’re cuttin’ it close, but I can get the truck positioned in the path of the twister. Then I get the trailer settled and get the hell outta Dodge.”
“Then I hit the remote control for the tanks and release the nitrogen into the air,” Finn piped up eagerly.
“Meanwhile, Zara and I are tracking the storm pattern and trying to figure out exactly when to release the trailer,” came Jeslyn’s explanation.
You stared at all the equipment in total wonder. These people had thought of everything. More than you or Rhett ever had when you were chasing. Your operation then had been very bare bones, and really, you were just following storms for the fun of it. 
But this? This was an entire science experiment, and it was fascinating. Despite your refusal to chase again, you were very curious about what all of this would look like in action. If Zara ever succeeded in stopping a twister, she would make history. 
That was something you almost wanted to be a part of. Almost. 
Later that night, you found yourself curled up in an Adirondack chair, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as everyone sat around the fire that Rhett had built in the old fire pit. The place held so many memories. Namely, the night Rhett had asked you to be his girlfriend. It was right here. 
He remembered that night, too. You could tell he was thinking about it when he caught your eye from across the fire. 
Around you, the group settled into comfortable conversation. The kind that happened when old friends got together. Anything and everything was discussed as the night gave way to inky darkness, the stars twinkling above, like glitter spilled across a black velvet canvas. 
Before she’d retired for the night, Cecilia had warmed some apple cider on the stove, and a mug of it was currently situated in your hands, its taste spicy and comforting. You enjoyed listening to Rhett’s friends tell stories of different storms they’d chased, reliving all the exciting times they’d had together.
You wondered if you would be running with them, too, had you stayed here instead of moving to Silver Springs and taking your weather analyst job. Would it just be you and Rhett, or would fate have still decided to bring these people into your life?
Their passion was admirable. Zara was a very driven individual, hellbent on making a difference. “If I could at least slow down a twister, even if it doesn’t fully stop it, think of all the lives we could save. That’s why I do all of this. I wanna protect people.”
That was just it, wasn’t it? Saving lives. You thought back to the fateful day you had lost Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. If you’d had a way of slowing down that twister, or even stopping it altogether, perhaps they would still be here.
But you couldn’t think that way, because it was already done. There was no way to go back in time and save them. 
The thought made your chest ache, and you had to swallow the wave of grief that rose in your throat. Rhett caught your eye over the flames, and shot you a reassuring look, almost as if he knew what you were thinking.
To your relief, the subject soon changed from storm chasing, and moved on to lighter things. 
“Hey, rodeo’s on Saturday. We were all thinking of going together. You should totally join us!” Jeslyn suggested, nodding in your direction. 
“Yeah, you should!” Finn agreed.
That piqued your interest. “Sure, I’ll still be in town, so why not?” You hadn’t been to a rodeo in so long. Not since Rhett’s last ride, which had ended in disaster.
Jeslyn grinned over her mug of cider. “Great! We’re gonna have so much fun. We’ll take care of your ticket, so you don’t have to worry about it.” 
You raised a brow in surprise. “Really? You don’t have to do that.”
Everyone protested at once, insisting that they wanted the rodeo ticket to be their treat. You were touched at their generosity, and accepted the offer gratefully. Might as well make the most of your time in Wabang.
Soon, it was time for the group to disperse and head in their own respective ways. Rhett threw some sand over the dying embers, while everyone else folded up their chairs to store back in the barn. As you walked the group back to their cars, Zara turned to you, her face kind.
“I know you’ve got your reasons for choosing not to chase, I want you to know the invitation for you to join us is open, in case you ever change your mind,” she told you. 
You weren’t entirely sure what came over you then. Maybe it was your desire to make a difference. Maybe you were just foolish. But for whatever reason, you were emboldened enough to say, “y’know what? I’ve got a proposition.” You stole a glance at Rhett to make sure he was listening. “I’ll go on a chase with you guys if Rhett agrees to ride at next weekend’s rodeo.”
You knew Rhett. He had a competitive nature. He was going to say yes. Everyone’s eyes landed on him, awaiting his answer.
“Shoo-ee, you gonna accept that challenge, Rhett?” Danny asked with a grin, fully invested.
Beside you, Rhett grimaced. “Ain’t no way they’ll let me in the ring,” he protested.
“Does Beau still oversee the bull riding contestants?” You inquired.
You and Rhett both knew that Beau would agree to letting him ride, because only Beau Wilson was crazy enough to allow such a thing. 
“Yeah,” Rhett answered your question. He was well aware of the direction this was going.
“Then I’ll go talk to him. He’ll get you a spot in the ring. If you can handle it, that is.” You gave him a pointed look. 
“I can handle it, darlin’.” Despite the determination in his tone, the nickname settled over you like a warm embrace. He hadn’t called you that in so long. “So if I do this, you swear you’ll go on a run with us?”
“Pinky swear.” You held your hand out, pinky up.
Rhett eyed your hand for a moment before he linked his pinky finger with yours. “Fine. You got yourself a deal.”
Finn and Danny whooped in excitement, while Zara and Jeslyn looked between you and Rhett, bewildered. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the one to get him back on a bull? We always say he should try riding again, but he always says no,” Zara explained. 
You looked at Rhett, and he ducked his head, hand lifting to scratch the back of his neck. You swore you saw his ears turn red. “Guess he just needed some friendly competition,” you replied.
Not long after, goodbyes were said, and the group parted ways, climbing into their vehicles and driving off, leaving you and Rhett standing there in the driveway. Immediately, you realized that your proposition was a bit preposterous. 
“Oh my god, if you don’t want to ride, you don’t have to. I don’t know why I said that, I just…”
But he waved his hand, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ll do it. It’ll do me some good to get back on a bull. Just like it’ll do you some good to face another twister. Might help us both process some shit,” he reasoned.
You let out a breath. “Maybe so.”
You both turned to walk toward the house, and he asked you a question as you went. “What made you change your mind?”
You paused, glancing down at your feet before you looked at him. “I dunno, all of Zara’s talk about saving lives…it got me thinking. It would be so cool if it could work. Imagine all the people she could save! She’s making a difference, and I want to be a part of that.” And then, “maybe if…if we had something like that six years ago, Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia would still be alive.”
Rhett’s boots crunched against dirt as he absently kicked a few pebbles out of the way. “Don’t go spiralin’ into the ‘what ifs’. Universe saw fit to take ‘em, so it did. No machine could’ve stopped it. Not that kinda twister.”
You studied his expression. “Do you believe in Zara’s project?”
He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I do, but there ain’t no way it would stop an EF5 tornado. We’d be fucked if it hit us.”
“It’s still worth a try, though, isn’t it? If it works, and if she can get it going on a larger scale…she could save entire towns from being destroyed! Think of the history she’s going to make!”
Rhett’s mouth curled into a slight smile. “There she is.”
“What?”
“My storm chasin’ gal. You’re back.”
You shrugged. “I guess so. But just know this isn’t a permanent thing, ‘kay? I’m only going out there with you guys to see how Zara’s invention works. After that, I’m going back to Silver Springs. To my job, where I don’t have to live off of McDonald’s and Whataburger every day and stay in shitty motels while I wait for a twister to just fall out of the sky.”
He bit back his ever-widening grin, shaking his head. “Sure thing. I’m just glad you decided to face your fear, s’all.”
Facing your fear. That was what this was, wasn’t it? You knew that  if you could do this, it would show you that you were capable of moving past your grief that still felt crippling at times. But you couldn’t help but wonder; when staring into the face of a tornado, would you be able to stand your ground, or would you let your fear send you running like a frightened child?
You would soon find out. But you didn’t realize just how soon. 
-
taglist: tagging those who expressed interest or asked to be tagged (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)
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@nobody7102 @mearslot @torturedpoetspsychward @floydsglasses @hearteyesforlewis
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enanansbbg · 1 day
Text
Anhane’s relationship, and it’s complexity:
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this was originally uploaded onto twt, but I wanted to reupload it here because I was very proud of this analysis, so please enjoy and feel free to add anything I may have missed or skipped over!
With that being said, here we go! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶
Let’s start with the basics. The pure power of their aibouness, and its connections to vivid street.
To begin, you must understand what a partner is in VBS terms. In this case, it’s ‘a person who brings out parts of you never knew existed’.
In relations to Anhane, this is based off pure raw emotions. This is shown through An’s abandonment issues and Kohane’s want to make her heart pound.
Kohane wants to recreate that feeling she felt when she first heard An singing inside of An, to ‘make her heart pound’, while An’s abandonment issues cause her to fear Kohane’s rapid growth may lead to Kohane abandoning her.
This also plays into a certain factor about Kohane and the idea of her and angst, I believe.
Many people want Kohane to have some kind of angst event, especially related to her backstory, but that would go against all her motives.
See, Kohane’s pure movies for pursuing music—for working to surpass Rad Weekend all tie back to An. It was hearing An singing at WG that made her heart pound and An asking her to be her singing partner that caused her to even consider music as an option.
From here, their relationship develops into a lot more, and it’s when the idea of partners ‘bringing out an ugly side of you’ comes to play.
You can see even in the maim story An not seeing Kohane as an equal. It only gets called out and resolved in Singing in Sync.
Singing In Sync, ep. 1 and 3
🎧: “In the unlikely event that something does go wrong, I’ll cover for you and get you back on track, okay?”
🎧: “I failed as her partner…I couldn’t protect her…
🎧: “I mean, she’s my partner…And I wanted to guide her so that she could sing without worrying…”
🥞: “You don’t think of Kohane as one of the team.”
An telling Kohane “I’ll protect you if you mess up” subconsciously puts the idea into Kohane’s head “I’m not good enough, so I’ll probably mess up” This is what caused the entire issue in SIS to begin with.
But it’s once An tells her “you can protect me too” that Kohane is able to subconsciously think “I have the power to make her heart pound too”
Singing in Sync, ep. 8
🎧: “If I miss a cue at the next event…”
🎧: “Could you cover for me?”
🐹: “An… Sure, I can do that!”
After this we get Awakening Beat. Kohane is able to come out of her shell and fully adapts the idea “I can make her heart pound too” and has a large boost in confidence because of it. An both brought her confidence down and back up in the spam of one rotation.
Awakening Beat, ep. 8
🎧: (“It’s like she’s not even the Kohane I know. Could this be because she’s completely resolved herself?”
🎧: (“But even with just that, she can really change this much…?”)
However….In the same event, An’s insecurities begin to bloom and in Bout for Beside You, An has to face them for the first time.
Awakening Beat, ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 4
🎧: (“I was just gonna tell her she did amazing… That I never knew she could sing that amazingly, but…”
🎧: (“What’s going on? I just can’t get the words out—”)
🎧: “Kohane is…going to leave me behind?”
Here, An realizes her and Kohane ‘perfect’ relationship is more complicated now. While Kohane’s adapted the idea of “I want to make her heart pound”, An opens to idea of “I wont he able to make her heart pound anymore” (they doki doki more than ddlc i swear)
At the end of the event, An ask Kohane the golden question. “If I were to leave somewhere far away, would we still sing together?”
BFBY, ep. 8
🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”
🎧: “And I wanted to reach greater heights just like what Uncle Taiga did exploring the world. If I were to go to someplace even greater and far far away from here—”
Of course, Kohane affirms this. Naturally, Kohane takes a lot of pride in being An’s partner, being the only partner for her. (as said in ORS) She wants to keep singing with An forever.
BFBY, ep. 8
🐹: “Even so, I would want to keep singing with An-chan!”
🐹: “No matter where you go or what you become, I’d still want to be with you!”
🐹: “I want to properly stand beside you and sing with you!”
We’re gonna skip ahead a bit and jump up to KIUAN, where we get our lovely “She looks like Nagi-san” line, the line that killed every Anhane shipper in the tristate area.
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But what makes this line so special? Well, for that let’s discuss what made Nagi’s death (and the lie surrounding it) so impactful.
Nagi was someone An looked up to highly. So, when she was suddenly told that Nagi moved, not even saying goodbye, to pursue her music career, it left a mark on An. Added to the fact that Nagi wasn’t returning An’s messages or calls, just completely disappeared.
Now, looking to Bout for Beside you and KIUAN, you can see the importance of these lines. An fears that Kohane will improve so much that she leaves without a word, never talks go her again and just moves on. It’s why she looks so distressed.
VOT ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 8, KIUAN ep. 7
🎧: “…Aww. I wonder what Nagi-san is doing over in America? I wish she’d give us a call at least.”
🎧: “Ah! Maybe I’ll send her a text then! I wonder if she’ll be surprised~?”
🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”
🎧: “…She looks just like Nagi-san…”
And, it’s why she can’t even believe Kohane when she says just how important An is to her, how much she loves her and wants to sing with her because Nagi said the same thing and now Nagi is gone.
This manages to reach a resolve in WTWG, where An ‘fights’ Kohane, takes all those raw emotions out in a healthy way, through her song.
An’s card in WTWG is more than just ‘An takes her anger out on Kohane’, because in truth that’s not entirely what she’s doing. Instead, it’s An’s raw emotions taking form.
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An wants Kohane to grow, she wants Kohane to thrive fully, but that fear of abandonment—Fear that Kohane will leave and never speak to her again makes her want to hold her close and never let her go anywhere.
So what about Kohane?
Well, starting with thr WTWG card/story, Kohane wants to be An’s best partner. As she states, ‘to make An’s heart pound’.
So, to be vulnerable here is to accept all of An’s raw emotions. Let her lean on her and feel everything because to Kohane, that makes her a worthy partner.
She says over and over throughout the fight that An is amazing, that she wants to be like her, how much it makes her heart pound. Really, it reminds me of Kohane’s colorfes story.
WTWG, ep. 7
🐹: (“An-chan…really is amazing.”)
🐹: (“…Whenever I hear An-chan sing, it really makes my heart pound like nothing else. It makes me wish I could sing like her.”)
In it, Kohane goes to Vivid Street, but everyone thinks she’s An. This happens after she thinks about what it would be like to be An, but only going through this dream does she realize that she doesn’t want to be An, she wants to be her. She wants to be An’s partner.
Colorfes Kohane ep. 1 and 2
Record Store Onee-san: “You caught me off guard, using polite like that, An-chan!”
🐹: (“Did she just say An-chan…?”)
🐹: (“—An-chan’s so cool and strong…and there’s times I wish I could be like her…”)
🐹: (“I have to be me! Because—”)
🎧: “—Y’know, I was thinking, your singing is always so amazing, Kohane.”
🎧: “Whenever I hear your singing, it makes my heart race. The tension rises, and it makes me feel like I have to start singing right now!”
🐹: (“Because I’m An-chan’s partner—!”)
And to be An’s partner, is to drag all those raw, vertical emotions out of An, just like she does in WTWG.
In conclusion, Anhane explosion their relationship is so complex and strong and I love it
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alexanderwales · 2 days
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One of the dominant models of magic and superheroes is that everyone has their "thing", what I would call a bespoke magic system, but is mostly just a power that sits orthogonal to all other powers. This crops up all the time, because it's really really good for having dynamic fights, for characterizing people through their powers, for having new surprises and twists, and just generally keeping things going.
It's adaptable to all kinds of genres. Superheroes are the obvious one, whether it's canonized as Quirks or just an aspect of the setting. But I'm pretty sure that the basic concept was first invented in anime, with marital arts settings, where every character had their own jutsu or whatever, or the system in theory is all about ki manipulation or equivalent exchange but in practice everyone has their own particular niche. You can slot this into urban fantasy, giving every vampire their own special Power, or you can have some magical fantasy thing where everyone has their own unique Semblance.
So this is all well and good, but it leaves us with a narrative hole, which is progression. Having a unique power is cool, because you can think of new uses for it, have unique matchups, etc., but it doesn't give you that juicy sense of becoming more, and if you're facing down terrifying villains with their own powers, then a god-tier power is just kind of ... random. Luck of the draw, rather than the consequence of a powerful will or keen mind.
You can strip out limitations and amplify effects, and this is cool and good, or you can lean back away from uniqueness and toward uniformity, which I think is sometimes the right call, depending on your narrative needs.
So you say that actually the guy who can swap places with someone and the guy who can cut people from a distance are both unwitting hyperspecialists in the same field of magic or whatever, and that in theory, with unlimited time to train and experiment and explore, each could do what the other does.
This allows for a lot of snazzy narrative stuff. Two intense rivals "learn" each other's techniques, or at least adapt them into their own technique. Maybe the guy who does teleport swaps never learns to cut from a distance, but his teleport swap incorporates a cut into it, slashing at the person he's trading places with. A widower incorporates aspects of his dead wife's power, a mentor passes down elements of his technique to all his students, a young protagonist has some angst about using the aspect he got from his abusive father, etc.
If powers are a reflection of character, then you get to physically manifest a character's relationship with other people.
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jo-harrington · 2 days
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Become What You Were Meant To Be (Eddie Munson)
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Word Count: 2.4k
Themes/Warnings: Modern!Eddie, Older!Eddie, set in the mid-2010s, fandom lingo, nerd lingo, Star Wars, typical childhood bullying, angst, minor FOI reference, some canon divergence, coming of age themes, probably poorly written and not edited at all
Note: Happy Birthday to one of the backbones of this fandom, who supports and encourages so many of us, whose endless friendship I am so grateful for. Someone who has absolute endless creativity but doesn't give herself enough credit and grace, who is secretly sitting in the background pulling the strings on some of the best stories I've read and I've written. My muse, my life, my world, my cheeseburger. @fracturedarkness
Thanks to @dr-aculaaa for the beta.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
Eddie Munson was a nerd.
Point blank, end of story.
It was one of those badges he wore along with Freak and loser and...well, you get the gist of it. But it was a badge worn with pride. He owned his identity. Wasn't afraid to show everyone he came across who he was.
It hadn't always been that way.
There used to be a time when it felt like the worst thing in the world to be a nerd like that. The kids bullied him because he got overly excited talking about his favorite characters and favorite books that they found boring. They all teased him when he wrote stories about exciting heroes from fantastical worlds in English class, even though the teacher told him that his stories were ambitious and imaginative. And when he spent lunch doodling in his notebook instead of playing kickball or foursquare? Well, you get the point.
"You're so weird." They mocked him. "You're a freak. Draw normal things. Like normal things. Why can't you just be normal?"
It was cruel, in the way that children naively become perpetrators of cruelness. And it made Eddie sad.
Because what did that mean? He couldn't draw normal things, or like normal things, or do normal things. Then he wouldn't be himself anymore.
And that was the point where he decided normal was overrated. Why would he want to be normal when he could be...anything else.
He could pretend he was one of the Pevensies upon a throne at Cair Paravel. Or one of the Ghostbusters. Or a Jedi...
Of course, he couldn't actually be anything else; he was stuck being boring, old, nerdy Eddie Munson.
It wasn't until middle school--you know, middle school, when everyone decides to embrace who they are and become an individual--that he decided being Eddie Munson wasn't all that bad after all.
This epiphany definitely didn't happen after a Hot Topic opened up at StarCourt Mall. No sir. Not when one of the older kids that worked there, sporting armfuls of tattoos and a lip ring, told him the pen drawings on the toe caps of his sneakers were cool. Of course not. And not after he used the last bit of his birthday money to buy a cool band t-shirt and colored hair gel. Pssshhh...
So on the first day of 8th grade, he showed up rocking his dad's old leather jacket--the one that practically swallowed him--jeans that he ripped himself and a poor excuse for a mohawk, ready to accept the Freak label proudly.
He also accepted detention for breaking the dress code.
And a grounding from Wayne for cutting up a nice pair of jeans.
And a buzzcut because he'd done that poor of a job of cutting his hair for that mohawk.
But he'd gained a friend.
Several friends actually.
Ronnie Ecker and Doug Teague. They were both in the same grade as him, and shared many classes. And it might have been a little embarrassing, but a sixth grader named Jeff who told Eddie that he was his hero. That made Eddie feel like he was on top of the world!
They were friends that stayed with him all through high school, and when he repeated his senior year twice, even more joined the mix along the way.
Band kids and science fair nerds and...and...and...
He called them his sheepies, and he their shepherd clad in black band tees and ripped jeans.
And Eddie?
Eddie just got nerdier.
Got weirder.
Dug himself deeper into the pit of stark individualism that the close-minded town of Hawkins didn't know how to react to.
It was glorious.
He listened to music that made other kids cringe and turn away and neighbors complain about the noise; he liked it so much that he made his friends start a band with him. They played at every single school talent show until they graduated; they never won and sometimes people tried to plug their ears, but to Eddie and his friend, their sound and that stage was exactly what their hearts yearned for. To them, the auditorium might as well have been Madison Square Garden.
He started playing Dungeons and Dragons--started a club of his own design, Hellfire--when he found the guidebooks on a dusty shelf at the library. They were seemingly untouched since their initial publication in the 70s, but they were like a key that unlocked something inside of Eddie. Something that he seemed to have forgotten along the way of reclaiming the name "Freak."
Through DnD, the imaginary worlds that he left behind early in his adolescence opened their doors to him once again.
And his friends, his players, never made fun of him for knowing the ins and outs of the worlds of their fantasies. Worlds like Greyhawk and Faerûn.
Worlds like a certain galaxy far...far away...
---
Eddie's re-entrance into the world of Star Wars had been...an interesting one to say the least.
To Eddie, Star Wars meant the original trilogy. Cut, print, sign the check.
When he thought of Jedi, he thought of Luke Skywalker and Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan and a puppet Yoda. And of course he thought of the dreaded Darth Vader.
Yeah he had his books from the library, a whole extended universe with Mara Jade and Jacen and Jaina. But he'd missed out on the prequels growing up; from being a little too young to see them in theaters, to the whole fiasco of his mother's passing right before Revenge of the Sith had premiered.
As he got older, the need to see them just wasn't there, and hearing from friends and enemies alike that it wasn't anything to write home about was the nail in the coffin.
Until he met one Dustin Henderson.
It was the Jar Jar Binks t-shirt he wore on the first day of his freshman year that got Eddie's attention.
"What is that?" he flicked a finger against the graphic as he ran into Dustin and his friends in the lunch line. "Something from that new Star Trek movie?"
Cue a whole rant about the Gungans and the Separatists and an inter-galactic conflict that made Eddie happily fold Dustin and his band of nerds into the protection of the Hellfire Club.
Eddie still refused to watch the prequels, no matter how much Dustin begged.
"I like it when you guys talk about them," Eddie shrugged off the pleas. "Even better when you guys act out the whole fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan. I'd sell my left nut to relive seeing you and Lucas do that in Wheelers basement; it was the best day of my life Henderson, I swear to god. There's no way the movies could actually beat that."
He hasn’t expected that those little idiots would trick him into a movie marathon for Lucas's birthday.
Even Gareth was in on the whole plan. Traitor.
But it was the beginning of the end.
From the movies to the books to the cartoons, Eddie's love of Star Wars was rekindled. He even spent a short stint as a gamer playing The Old Republic on the old PC that was tucked into the corner of the trailer.
And when a new movie was announced, Eddie happily took his nerd-dom to the next level.
Yes, he was the one to suggest they all dress up for the midnight showing of The Force Awakens, but if anyone asked it was Mike.
He spent hours on a stupid Boba Fett costume. It was a different set of skills to the mini-figures he was used to crafting for DnD. He had to think on a different scale. Hot glue and spray paint and too much cardboard. Only to find real cosplayers used foam, not cardboard. His paychecks from Thatcher Tires went straight to the project, until he had something halfway decent for the premiere.
"What?" he laughed along with his friends when they joked about the hot glue spiderwebs that he'd been too lazy to clean up. "It's not like I'll have to do this again; we're not dressing up next time."
Or so he thought...
There was something so magical about sitting in a movie theater, in the middle of December, at midnight, surrounded by other people who decided to dress up for the occasion, and a few dozen plastic lightsabers all lit up.
To listen to the theme, to read the crawl on a big screen, to see the camera pan down into the vastness of stars...
This was what it was to be a nerd.
There was something extra special about finding a new favorite character. Something that touched something deep down inside of you when you saw something of yourself in them.
And Eddie had always been drawn to the villains. Whether in the media he consumed or the characters he created for DnD. He knew why; he wasn't totally oblivious. To be the hero of his own story, he often had to become a villain to someone else.
Besides, villains always had a little bit more fun.
So when Kylo Ren first made his way on screen, Eddie knew that he was done for.
The mask, the lightsaber, the Dark Side of the Force, the anger...how many times had he almost given in to the anger he felt at being mocked and teased. He'd overcome that time and again; what if he'd just given in?
There was also something about being Al Munson Han Solo's son.
Yeah. He could understand the anger there.
But then he was also Elizabeth Leia's son...the conflict.
It took Eddie a few days to get over the initial flurry of thoughts after seeing Force Awakens for the first time. That was when he realized he needed to see it again. And again. A matinee showing on Christmas Eve with Wayne, who he also treated to lunch. The last showing on a Thursday in January. Another outing with the guys, refusing to admit that he'd already seen it a few times between opening night and then.
Thankfully, this time, Mike was the mastermind behind their plans for the next movie as they waited for the previews to finish.
"So," Mike sat up straight. "I think I wanna get an early dibs on dressing up like Poe when Episode 8 comes out."
"I think I wanna try my hand at making an Admiral Ackbar costume," Dustin said with utter confidence, and then turned to Eddie. "What about you?"
It caught Eddie off-guard for a second; should he just say Kylo? Did they expect him to want to dress up as anyone else? Maybe they thought that he would want to be Poe, leader of their misfit group as he was.
"Eddie's obviously Kylo," Jeff piped up. Eddie's head immediately turned to him. "What? Don't think we didn't watch you drool over that lightsaber last time."
"And his ship?" Gareth cackled one seat over. "Fuck the Falcon. I swear, if you could turn the van into something that looked like that ship..."
"Oh my god, you're right!" Lucas cackled.
"Hey I think I could figure out a pretty convincing Snoke," Eddie argued, trying to deflect their teasing, but secretly pleased that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.
And that his friends knew him so well.
---
For two years, Eddie worked on his costume.
Two. Years.
He was practically a different person by the time of the Last Jedi's opening night.
And yeah his motivation faltered, but he never quit.
It was strange, the need to perfect the costume. He’d almost given up many times. When there was a certain skill he wasn't good at or when he'd felt like it would never be finished. Every time, he felt like that silly kid who everyone just told to be normal. To like normal things.
He was growing up. He was a grown up! Shouldn’t he be passed all of this…silliness? Everyone else in the world seemed to think so, as they put away all the frivolities of childhood. Were they working round the clock and pricking their fingers on needles and burning themselves with hot glue?
Probably not.
Eddie found himself still stuck there, watching a world lose its joy and think that it was normal, and he always wondered if he should try to be normal too. For once in his life. The first time in his life.
But every time he thought about letting it all go, about putting his dream aside...something would come and drive him to keep going.
New promotional images, a new trailer. Especially the ones focused on Kylo himself.
"Let the past die," Kylo Ren grumbled in the voice over. "Kill it if you have to."
That became Eddie's driving force.
He owed it to himself to finish. He owed it to his younger self...not to let his dream die...to keep being weird and nerdy and happy.
"Let the past die," Eddie told himself as he stitched the hem of the tunic the week before opening night.
"Kill it if you have to," he said as he distressed the plastic helmet that he'd ordered, giving it the right amount of realism so it didn't just look like something so fake and commercial.
"Let the past die," his child self muttered, front teeth missing from the day Johnny B pushed him over on the playground because he was playing superheroes wrong. Eddie put a hand on his head and then stepped into his boots.
"Kill it if you have to," his preteen self urged him, self-assured, mohawk looking stupider than he realized way back when. Eddie flicked his ear good-naturedly before adjusting the cape on his shoulders.
There he stood--Eddie Munson, the young man, the freak, the nerd--in his bedroom before the mirror. He was adorned in pieces of foam and layers of fabric from the craft store, helmet tucked under his arm.
But in the mirror itself? There was Kylo Ren...there he was as Kylo Ren. In the hallway of a Star Destroyer, layered in armor and the shadows of the Dark Side itself, like he was ready for a battle with the Resistance.
Ready for the battle within himself.
But there was no battle, and the armor was actually Eddie's skin. This was his real self, his true self. All of his work came to fruition, all of the time and effort that he put into the craft. Not just two years working on a costume, but an entire lifetime poured into becoming an Eddie Munson who proudly wore the title nerd and freak and loser.
The destroyer melted away, and he was back in his bedroom once again. Surrounded by posters and books and drawings, by all of his crafts and his guitars and his endless clutter.
He smiled at himself, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.
Eddie Munson was a nerd, and as he lit the lightsaber and he was washed in a glow of crackling red light, he knew that this was who he was always meant to be.
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cloudysarts · 3 days
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Hi there!!
I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential
I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust
Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:
maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head
Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper
Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy
I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language
I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!
first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)
you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!
first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed
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as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^
for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.
IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...
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i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...
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svtiddiess · 3 days
Text
Shadow
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Pairing: Guardian angel!Jeonghan x afab!reader
Genre: drabble, angst, unrequited love
Rating: sfw
Word count: 376
Warnings: none! Lemme know if I missed anything!
Note: This made me sad ㅠㅠ The next post will be super fluffy, I promise.
Click here to join my taglist!
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
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Baby I'm a shadow of you.
He's always been there, watching over you, protecting you. He has to. He's your guardian angel, after all. Jeonghan has seen it all. From your first ever day of school to your first crush, to your first kiss, to your first heartbreak, to your graduation, to your first job, everything. He's been with you through everything. Observing, protecting, and admiring. He's seen you grow from a cute and meek child into the beautiful and headstrong woman that you are today.
He's always tried to be the best guardian angel one could possibly be, and he was, but he has broken the one rule guardian angels aren't supposed to break: he's fallen in love with you. Guardian angels have many rules to follow, and the one main rule is to never fall in love with the person you're protecting, and Jeonghan had done just that.
He was in denial about it for a very long time. He's not in love with you; he's just admiring you; he just has a deep affection for you; he just cares for you a lot; he's just- he's in love with you, he loves you so much that he's willing to sacrifice his wings if it meant staying with you. But he couldn't, no, shouldn't think about doing such a thing.
What if…you don't like him back? He's been with you since you were a child; he probably knows you more than you know yourself. What if you think he's some crazy stalker and call the police on him? He'd end up losing you forever, and that's not something he could live with.
He's content with what he has now—watching over you from a distance. Even if it meant getting his heart shattered every time you look at your boyfriend like he means the world to you. Even if it meant he had to look away every time you kissed your boyfriend. Even if it meant that he had to clench his fists every time you cuddled your boyfriend. Even if it meant he had to wipe his tears every time you professed your love to your boyfriend.
Because alas no matter what, in the end, he'll always be only a shadow of you.
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velocesainz · 22 hours
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Seb n his F1 rival(from karting days) realise thru friends that they do love eachother thru their actions whether they admit or not
Unknowing love
F1 Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Taglist
Summary: Seb and reader have been rivals since their karting days and after years of rivalry and reaching formula one realise they’ve loved eachother throughout this time
Pairing: Rbr Seb x f1!driver!reader ft. Mark Webber
Warnings: a light bit of angst
Reader pov:
Me and Seb have been feuding for as long as we’ve known eachother which is over 20 years at this point when we met during my first karting race
Sebastian was this adorable boy who after the race had some rather rude words to say. It was really a shame, I really would’ve liked to be his friend.
After that day for the next year after every race he would have some rude or sexist comments to say to me which I ignored for the most part
After a while I started reciprocating these words to him as well and our rivalry grew even more intense
We were now in formula one, the pinnacle of motorsport and we still hadn’t grown out of our silly bickering
We were currently in imola and had just started the race being a few laps in when a red flag was raised and I was asked to return to the pits
“Who crashed? That’s quite the wreckage” I asked my engineer as to who crashed as I approached the crash site
“I believe that was the red bull of Vettel that went into the barriers there” my engineer replied
My heart dropped. Was he alright? That looked like a really bad crash
I didn’t think, I stopped my car by the side of the track and ran to check on Seb
Knocking on his helmet I invoked no response. My mind was spiralling. I helped the marshals get his body out of the car and was forced to return to my pitbox and not Seb who was being taken to the hospital.
The race resumed but all that clouded my mind was Seb. How was he? Did he sustain any serious injuries? Was he going to be ok?
I could barely focus and my team noticed too and asked me to keep focusing and told me they would update me on his condition which made me incredibly grateful
I finished the race on the second step of the podium but I didn’t care for the press or the celebrations and rushed through all of them
I was pacing around the paddock waiting for mark to go visit Seb at the hospital
“About time you guys realise that you care for eachother” he said as he approached me
“What are you talking about Mark? Also what do you mean about time? I’ve hated him forever. I’m just looking out for a fellow driver” I retorted.
“Any person not deeply in love wouldn’t care this much dear. Look at the rest of us. We care sure, but not so much that we drop everything and go visit him” Mark explained
Albeit it was a weirdly rude explanation I realised he was right.
We reached the hospital and let Mark go in first as he was his teammate after all
Mark pov:
Entering Sebs room I placed the flowers y/n has got for him insisting that I give to him in a vase.
“How did you know I love sunflowers?” Seb asked looking at the flowers
“ That’s because I didn’t, y/n got them and wanted me to give them to you” I said
“She’s here?”
“Indeed she is. She was worried as soon as she saw the crash site”
“Whatever not like I care she’s my mortal enemy”
“Aw don’t be like that, I know you have the most massive crush on her”
Seb started at me wide eyed with a red hue tinting his cheeks
“I’ll send her in, she’s waiting outside”
I left and sent y/n in who was relieved to hear that he was ok
Seb pov:
I saw y/n enter the room and looking at the immense concern etched into her face I asked myself why I decided to create such an enemity with this beautiful soul
I knew I had to confess soon as her potential suitors were getting harder to drive away.
“Hey”
“Hey”
“How are you feeling now?”
“I’m better now that you’re here”
I watched as her face heated up turning her into the cutest tomato
“I love you”
“Seb..”
“I love you y/n. I have since the day we met”
“I love you too Seb. Always have”
With that we connected our pups in the most magical kiss ever.
We broke apart to the sound of Mark Webber cheering for us from outside
Chuckling we embraced.
I couldn’t have asked for a better ending.
A/n: hello lovelies! I’m sorry it took me this long to complete I’m sorry but I’m much more free now and I’ll start posting more. I’m getting the catalogue ready and would love for any suggestions about what the theme could be! Let me know your thoughts. Kissies ✨
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jensengirl83 · 2 days
Text
You'll Accompany Me Chp 18
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Warnings- Some angst, fluff, mild descriptions of childbirth
Word Count- 3530
A/N- Sorry this has taken so long, but the series is finally finished! I'll be posting a chapter a week until the last one. I hope you all enjoy it!
It had been a month since Jensen had proposed to Y/N, and things were going well. She was still working on getting ready for the arrival of their baby. She was due to go to her next appointment to check on her condition later that afternoon, and Jensen had been trying to get her to reconsider not finding out the gender. 
“Seriously, honey, you don’t want to know what it is?” he asked, his tone almost begging. 
“No, Jay. I want it to be a surprise. Everything hasn’t gone so well since I found out I was pregnant, and I just want this one thing to be something to look forward to,” she chuckled. 
“How many times do I have to apologize for what I did, huh? I’ve tried to make it up to you in every way I know how. You know I’ll never forgive myself for it, so why did you have to bring it up?” he responded, his voice cracking with emotion at the end. 
“Jay…” she sighed, reaching for his hand, but he pulled it away. 
She knew that she’d struck a nerve, but she also needed him to let her explain how she was feeling, and she couldn’t do that if he wouldn’t even look at her. She reached for him one more time just for him to pull away again, not even looking in her direction. Not giving him the chance to withdraw from her, she cupped his face in her hands and turned his face to look at her. 
“I want you to listen to me, okay? Yes, what happened was hard, but that wasn’t what I was referring to. The fact that I was ordered on bed rest because of a serious health condition that could hurt me and the baby was a lot to deal with. Me being so stubborn and taking so long to forgive you and cut what time we could’ve been enjoying this pregnancy together is something else I have to live with. And I kick myself in the ass for that every day, but I have forgiven you, Jay. I really have. So, please, stop beating yourself up over it, and thinking that every time I bring up what a hard time I’ve had, that it means I’m talking about that, okay?” 
She could see his eyes begin to tear up, and she felt horrible. This isn’t where she wanted the conversation to go, but now she had to try and fix it. With a sigh of regret, she pulled him to her, kissing him softly, and wrapping him in a hug. She could feel the tension all over him, so she slowly ran her hand through his hair, whispering apologies and how much she loved him over and over until she could feel him start to relax. He eventually pulled away to look at her, and it compounded her guilt. He looked heartbroken. 
“Jay, I’m so sorry. Please believe me when I tell you that I forgave you a long time ago, and nothing I said was about that,” she whispered, hugging him around his waist and resting her head on his chest.
“It’s okay, baby. I believe you. I just…” he paused, looking down at her, her eyes letting him know she was listening and wanted to hear what he had to say, “I’ve never forgiven myself for leaving you like that, and I think that stress is what may have caused your preeclampsia in the first place. And that makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.”
“Please, Jay, forgive yourself. I did a long time ago. I was just too stubborn to admit it, and I’m sorry. But, baby, that had nothing to do with what happened to me. It happens to a lot of pregnant women, and you had absolutely nothing to do with it. I love you, Jensen, and if knowing the gender will make you feel better, then that’s what we’ll do,” she smiled, squeezing his middle in a tight hug. 
“We don’t have to find out if you really don’t want to. That wouldn’t be fair,” he sighed in contentment, kissing the top of her head. He loved her hugs. 
“No, it’s okay. Maybe it would be helpful in the end. That way we could buy exactly what we need without getting everything gender neutral,” she giggled as he tickled her ribs. 
“You have any idea how much I fucking love you?” 
“Probably not as much as I love you,” she sassed back, laughing when he sighed in faux annoyance. 
“Always busting my balls, Y/L/N.” he deadpanned, trying to hide his smile. 
“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” 
“No. No I wouldn’t, darlin’,” he replied, pulling her into his lap. She’d never know how grateful he was to have her there. To have her, period. 
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Y/N’s knee was bouncing with nerves as they sat in the doctor’s office later that afternoon. She was hoping for a good report and that she could lift some of her restrictions and be more active. Not being able to do much other than cook, light cleaning, and lying around was starting to drive her a little insane. But, something was eating at her that everything wasn’t going to be okay, and she couldn’t shake that feeling. She’d been having small Braxton Hicks contractions, but other than that, everything was progressing as it should. But something just wouldn’t let her feel like everything was fine. 
She jumped slightly as the nurse called her name to lead her back to the exam room. She didn’t think Jensen had noticed how nervous she was, but he had. As she stood, he took her hand, kissing it lightly and giving it a little squeeze to tell her without words that he was there and it would be okay. If only she could believe it. She hadn’t been in the small room long before Dr. Williams walked in with her million-watt smile she always had. It had always put Y/N at ease, but not today. 
“Good afternoon, mom and dad. How are we feeling today?” Dr. Williams asked, sitting down on the small stool and getting everything prepared for the exam. 
“I’m not going to lie. Other than the normal Braxton Hicks, nothing is going on, but I just feel like something is going to go wrong with the exam today,” Y/N answered honestly, Jensen looking over at her, one eyebrow raised in confusion and concern. She hadn’t mentioned feeling that way to him. 
“It’s fine, Y/N. A lot of mothers have that feeling at this stage of pregnancy, and especially if they have complications. Do we still not want to know the gender?” 
“No. Y/N agreed to find out this time,” Jensen replied quickly, his big smile letting Y/N know she’d made the right decision. If this made him feel just a little better about the pregnancy, then he deserved that. 
“Okay, then. How about we get the exam over first to ease mom’s worries, and then we’ll do the ultrasound. That sound good to you two?” 
“Sounds good,” Y/N and Jensen answered simultaneously, making all three of them chuckle. 
Y/N took a deep breath as the doctor started her exam. Having her cervix checked was never a fun time, and she hated it, but it had to happen. Luckily, it was usually over quickly. But she noticed that Dr. Williams was taking longer than normal this time, and her breathing started to pick up and her heart began to race. It didn’t help when she looked up and saw a concerned look on the woman’s face. Jensen had noticed, too, and before Y/N could say anything, Jensen was speaking. 
“What’s wrong, doc? Is everything okay? Is there something wrong with Y/N or the baby?” he rapidly fired the questions at the doctor, his palms beginning to sweat with nervousness. He didn’t know what he would do if something was wrong. 
“Just calm down, everyone. There’s nothing major going on,” Dr. Williams began before taking a breath to tell them what she had found, “But, Y/N is completely effaced and dilated to 5 centimeters.” 
“What the hell does that mean? She’s only thirty-five weeks along. There’s no way she can be dilated!” Jensen shouted, his fear beginning to take over and panic setting in. 
“What?! I can’t be. It’s too early! I can’t have the baby now,” Y/N cried, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.Something was wrong and she knew it, knew something was wrong with her baby. 
“Everyone calm down. This isn’t unheard of with women that have preeclampsia. Yes, it’s a little early, but the baby will probably be just fine.” 
“Probably?! I’m not fine with a probably,” Jensen was yelling now. 
“Mr. Ackles, many women have babies at this stage and most are just fine. Of course, I can’t give you an absolute guarantee, because there isn’t any when it comes to these things. But, I can tell you that I think mom and baby are going to be just fine. Now, I have to go get her a room ready for labor and delivery. A nurse will be down soon to get her moved to that floor. I know this isn’t easy, but I need you both to try and be as calm as you can. That’s what’s going to help mom and baby get through this happy and healthy,” Dr. Williams smiled, patting Jensen on the shoulder as she left the couple alone to try and come to terms with their impending situation. 
“Jay…” Y/N’s trembling voice brought Jensen out of his panic. He was by her side in an instant, running his hand over her head, and kissing her face. 
“It’s okay, honey. Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered while soothing her, hoping that he would eventually believe his own words. 
“But what if it’s not? What if the baby is too small and…” she began to cry when he interrupted her. 
“No, uh uh. You’re both going to be fine, baby. This is a great hospital, and babies are born more prematurely than ours all the time and are just fine. All you need to worry about is taking care of yourself and bringing our little peanut out to meet us. Okay? I’ve got everything else,” he reassured her, even though he felt as if he would crumble at any moment. 
She nodded her head and cried. She knew that she had a rough journey ahead of her, and she would need all the strength she had to deliver the baby. But she couldn’t stop worrying about whether he or she would be okay. And she knew she had to have Jensen make her a promise before all the craziness got started. 
“Jay, no matter what happens in there, you stay with the baby. No matter what,” she begged, knowing she couldn’t do this without that promise. 
“Y/N…” 
“No, Jay. You have to promise me. Please, I'm begging you. Take care of our baby if anything goes wrong. Please promise me Jay,” she wailed, the tears and fear of what could happen overtaking her. 
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I promise, honey. I'll stay with the baby no matter what. But you have to make me a promise. You gotta promise me that you’ll do everything you can to be okay. We’re both going to bring this precious baby home together. You hear me?” he pleaded, his tears finally breaking free and dropping down to her forehead where he had rested his against it. 
“I promise,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his face and kiss him softly, just as the door opened and the nurse came in. 
“Ms. Y/L/N, we’re here to take you upstairs.” 
“I’ll be right behind you,” Jensen kissed her one last time as the nurse walked over to wheel her up to delivery in her bed.
“See you soon, handsome,” she smiled, squeezing his hand as they began to wheel her out of the room. 
Jensen was pacing the floor waiting for the nurse to come tell him he could be with Y/N. Once they had gotten her upstairs, they told him he needed to wait outside in the hall while they got her settled in and hooked to all the monitors, and an IV inserted. He had already made all the phone calls he needed to make. Jared and Gen were on their way, his parents were heading out as soon as they could, and Dee and the kids knew that she would be delivering soon, and wanted to wait until she was in recovery before they came to visit. All he was waiting on now was the okay to be with his future wife. It felt like an eternity before the nurse came out and took him in to see Y/N. Dr. Williams was there when he walked in. 
“Hello, Mr. Ackles. I’ll get you up to speed on what’s happening. Sorry, it took so long to bring you in, but her water broke when we moved her to her new bed. So, that means that there’s an increased risk of infection if her labor doesn’t progress in a timely manner. Which means that I put her on a Pitocin drip through her IV. Unfortunately, that means her contractions will be more intense than usual, but that also means that little Ackles will make their debut sooner.” 
“Okay, so what do I need to do?” he asked, completely at a loss about what he should be doing. 
“Same thing you did with your other three children when your wife was in labor,” the doctor said, a look of confusion on her face. 
“Well, see, that’s the problem. All three of my other kids were scheduled c-sections. I never had to go through the labor part of it,” he answered sheepishly, feeling stupid for not knowing what to expect. 
“Oh! Well, then that makes sense,” the doctor giggled, “No need to be embarrassed. Just do whatever you can to help her be comfortable, and be her support when she needs encouragement. Other than that, buckle up and enjoy the ride. This will be a completely different but amazing experience for you.” 
“O-Okay,” he stuttered, a little overwhelmed with everything going on around him.
“Jay, it’s okay. Just come sit beside me, please,” Y’N’s voice broke him out of his stupor, her tired smile and outstretched hand making his legs finally work to have a seat by her side. 
“How are you feeling, baby?” he asked, running his hand over her head. 
“Remember that scene from Alien?” she chuckled dryly. 
“The chest burster?!” he gasped at the visual image in his head. 
“Yeah, that one. Kinda like that,” she frowned as a strong contraction hit. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay,” he huffed, her hand feeling like it was going to crush his  fingers as she squeezed. 
Jensen kept repeating to her that everything was fine and that she was doing amazing, and that it would all be over soon as each contraction had her gritting her teeth and crying in pain. He hated seeing her in so much pain, and he would do it for her if he could. But since he couldn’t, he stayed by her side with words of encouragement, little kisses on her face and head, and wiping the sweat away with a cool cloth. And after what felt like an eternity, the doctor told them that it was finally time for her to push. 
The flurry of activity in the room as the doctor and nurses prepared to help bring their baby into the world had his head spinning, but he tried to keep his focus on Y/N, and do everything he could to make it as easy as he could for her. Once the doctor told him to hold Y/N’s leg up, he knew the show was starting, and he didn’t know if he wanted to jump for joy, throw up, or pass out. 
“Jay. I can’t do this,” she cried after twenty minutes of pushing, her body feeling as if it would give out at any moment. 
“Yes you can, baby. You’re doing so good. They’re almost here, and we’ll know soon whether we have a son or daughter,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her temple, “I’m so fucking proud of you, honey. You’ve got this.” 
‘Come on, Y/N. I can see the head now. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor yelled out, making Jensen look down. 
“Don’t you dare look at that! It’ll scar you forever,” Y/N screamed, groaning through another contraction. 
“Baby, nothing could ever make me think any differently of you,” he said sweetly, looking back down to where the doctor was, “Oh my God! Honey, I can see the head! It has so much hair!” 
Jensen was elated. He couldn’t have imagined that this experience would’ve been so profound. Of course, seeing his other children being brought into the world through c-section was absolutely amazing, too. But this was a completely different ballgame. 
“Okay, Y/N. One more big push and you’ll meet your baby,” the nurse beside her said, holding her leg up higher to give her more leverage to push. Jensen followed suit, and leaned back to Y/N. 
“Come on, baby. You can do it. One more and we get to see our baby,” he cooed, kissing her forehead as she gave one last push. 
The sound of a loud cry pierced the room, and Y/N and Jensen both let out cries of their own at the wonderful sound. She’d done it. She’d endured the worst pain of her life, and now, her son or daughter was there, screaming for the whole delivery floor to hear. She’d never heard such a beautiful sound in her life. She continued to cry tears of joy as Jensen kissed all over her face, his tears mixing with hers, him showering her with praise for what a great job she had done.
“Mr. Ackles, would you like to cut the cord?” Dr. Williams asked, a bright smile on her face, “You have a very healthy baby over here.” 
Y/N and Jensen began to sniffle at her words. Their baby was perfectly healthy. All the worry of them being premature and having complications melting away. Jensen walked over to cut the cord. His breath caught in his throat when he looked down, the doctor smiling at him. 
“How about you cut this cord, and then you can go tell mama what the gender is, huh?” 
Jensen just nodded. He was speechless. This experience had been one of the most nerve-wracking but beautiful he’d ever had, and he couldn’t wait to tell Y/N what the gender was. Once the cord was cut, and the baby cleaned and wrapped up, Jensen slowly walked back to his fiancee, a face-splitting smile on his face. 
“Honey, would you like to hold our son?” he asked, a tear slipping down his cheek at the way Y/N’s face lit up with his words. 
“It’s a boy?” she whispered, her voice breaking with all the emotion she was feeling. 
“It’s a healthy little boy,” he beamed with pride, gently placing their son in his mama’s arms. 
“Oh my God, Jay. He’s beautiful, and just perfect,” she said with awe, kissing the little boy’s nose, forehead, and cheeks. 
“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” he hiccuped with emotion, placing kisses all over her face between every word of thanks. 
“You don’t have to thank me, Jay.” 
“Yes, I do, baby. I have to thank you for being my friend all those years, for giving me the chance to be your boyfriend, for forgiving me when I fucked up so royally, for agreeing to be my wife, and especially for giving me what I didn’t even know I needed, another baby to love. So, yes, darlin’, I’ll owe you thanks every day for the rest of my life,” he whispered, afraid all the emotions he was feeling would take his voice if he tried to speak any louder. 
“I love you so much, Jay,” she smiled through tears, reaching up to cup his face. 
“I love you more than I’ll ever be able to tell you, baby,” he leaned down to capture her lips in a soft, quick kiss. 
Jensen leaned back to look down at Y/N and their son. The love in her eyes as she looked at their son took his breath away. How could he have been so selfish to have even thought to deny her this? She was going to be a great mother, and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her, raising their kids, and just loving her. He knew at that moment just what a lucky son of a bitch he was, and he was going to do his damnedest to never take that for granted again.
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