#i hope this was worth...anything to someone

[writingwisterias]

All of me for All of you

DI!Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Fem! Reader Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Fluff, Friends - Lovers, Insecurities, Oral (F- receiving), Praise Kink, Slight Breeding kink ;), Unprotected sex, Summary: He was always the best at surprising you Words: 2.8k Happy valentines day! I know I said it would be a drabble but I'm starting to think I don't actually know what the word is. Stay safe tonight if you do have plans! and hope you all have fun ;))

It was probably better for you that he cancelled instead of waiting in the restaurant for the dickhead to show up with some cheap chocolates and dying flowers in exchange for sex. Dating was hard enough these days, with all of the apps being used for a quick fuck instead of a meaningful connection. Did that not matter to anyone anymore? The idea of a relationship with someone who felt like your best friend seemed like a distant dream at this point. 

Instead, tonight you were sitting in your apartment with a glass of wine and some expensive chocolate you treated yourself to. It just always felt so sad spending the one holiday that is meant for people to declare their love to each other like this. To make matters worse you were the only one alone today, you couldn’t even have a galentines day since their dates didn’t decide to cancel. The only person you knew that was free was Leon. A recent edition in your life after joining his workplace. Your relationship progressed quickly into best friend status as your skills worked well together, trusting each other almost immediately. Humor even more so. 

The ideal couple if the office had anything to do with it. You wouldn’t be yourself by ignoring the blossoming crush you had on him. After all he was the office heart throb there were many others that felt the same. Yet, with his lack of text today you assumed he was slumped in some bar or busy on a mission. Too busy to deal with you stewing in your self worth. 

The rom-com playing in the background did nothing to improve your mood, only adding to the sense of loneliness that suffocated your brain. You hadn’t realised how sad it felt being alone when there were so many people booking up the restaurant spaces. To make a bad evening worse you couldn’t even get a takeaway dinner because of all ‘Love day’ deals. 

Leon however had remembered the brief comment you made yesterday about the date cancellation. The backpack he was wearing was full of dinner supplies, wanting to make sure that at least you had something to make you feel better. Did he have a date because you had one? Yes. Did he cancel it because yours was cancelled? Also yes. 

Perhaps this is just the life of someone smitten. It took him a while to even gather the courage to ask you on a date, spending days calculating every moment of it so he could finally admit how he felt only for you to crush it by showing a picture of sir dickhead. His plans ruined and replaced with some woman he found that same night at least then he wouldn’t be alone he thought. Hopefully you’ll settle for some homemade pizzas as the poor guy couldn’t even get the shop bought ones in the frozen section. 

The knock at your door surprised you more than anything, scrambling the mountain of blankets you had on the sofa for your phone in case you missed a text. He could hear your feet thudding to the door. Leon stood in the doorway, rocking on his feet as you turned each lock but the nerves settled quickly when he caught a look at your adorable face. You were wrapped in a blanket, hair down and messy, the house highlighted by the soft glow of the fairy light he helped hang up a few weeks ago. It felt like you, a ball of warmth. 

“Happy valentines day?” He chuckled holding out the squashed flowers from where they were crushed in his backpack along with a squashed box of chocolates. He grinned as the confusion on your face was slowly wiped into a happy expression. The corners of your mouth twinging upwards slightly until it finally broke into a fill on grin. “Leon, what are you doing here? I thought you had a date or something?” You questioned, stepping aside anyway to allow him to enter. He placed the flowers and chocolate on the table, his jacket finding the spot you reserved for it on the hanger by the door. “It..uh…got cancelled? Anyway, no point in us being lonely” He spoke. 

The backpack landed on the table with a thud before he started to unpack it. Various pizza toppings, bags of many types of cheeses. “What is all this?” You asked, picking up a few items trying to correlate his plan. “Well I tried to pick up some pizzas but there wasn’t any. It might be fun to try and make our own, I thought” 

You could have melted in a puddle right there and then you swore as you turned to look at him. The smile he wore was genuine for a change not the forced one he often used around the office or when the team went out for drinks. He really wanted to be here with you tonight, even going as far as to conjure up a last minute plan. So with a large grin you turned to face him, rolling up the sleeves of your pjs “Guess we better get cooking I’m starving” 

Music slowly filled the kitchen, flour covering every surface as well as each other as you both shaped your pizza bases. “We should do hearts, to keep in theme” You suggested as you started to create the arches perfectly. Leon nodded, giving an attempt himself laughing at the mess. “At least we will tell each others apart,” He joked. Whilst he lacked the artist approach that yours did it was still endearing anyway, it gave it character. “I can see the attempt” You giggled, resting your chin on his shoulder as you looked at it. Leon’s breath faltered – he hadn’t expected the night to turn so domestic, to feel like a relationship with you was something he always missed. It fuels the determination inside him to correct it to ensure that no matter what he succeeds.

“Yeah well yours was always going to be perfect, everything you do is” He spoke, catching your eye briefly before turning to look at the pizza creation he was working on. It was a prime opportunity to wrap your arms around him, hold him close and just feel his warmth seep into your bones. You didn’t though; instead you reluctantly peeled away moving towards the oven to begin cooking them. It felt like time had slowed as you both waited, sitting on the counters opposite each other whilst the pizzas baked in between you too. “So how come your date cancelled on you then?” You asked him, legs thumping on the cabinets as you swung them. 

Leon shrugged he wasn’t sure if was ready yet to admit the truth, the real reason why he was here. He was currently enjoying the atmosphere. He spent time with you often breaking his rule of allowing people close, letting them worm their way into his closed off world in case they got hurt. You didn't even need to try. You just did it, made him crumble and falter; gave him an adrenaline rush of something that wasn’t fighting death. “Rather be here instead anyway” He stated. You believed him, the look in his eye told you he was content. Happy even. The beeper on the oven interrupted your own admittance, cutting the tension you had both created before it was too late. You didn’t want to ruin this. 

“How come I have the shit blanket?” He grumbled as you both curled on the sofa, the pizzas cut and ready on plates in your lap. He was letting you choose the movie today, after all he chose the last one a few weeks ago. “Because this one is my favorite” You stated eyes glued onto the screen. You were both a respectful distance away, curled up in either corner of the sofa, your legs touching slightly as you sprawled out at a diagonal. You had managed to find a cheap candle, lighting them around the tv which added to the warmth of the room. It was the perfect night in. “I like that one as well though” He whined. You knew he did, he stole it every time you got up to the bathroom, used it when he slept on your couch. It smelt like him every time he left; that's why it was your favourite. 

“Cry about it. I could have not given you one” 

It was true he supposed, he could have been left to the cold. His body moved before he thought logically about it, sliding across the couch holding his pizza carefully. Worming his way next to you under the blanket. You stiffened as he moved the pillows around to create a fake arm rest, kicking his legs out on the coffee table in front of him. He was so close, you could feel his arm brushing against yours as he moved them to bring the food to his mouth. Brushing his hand against your thigh as he rubbed the crumbs off his finger tips. 

“This pizza’s great, what a great idea. I wonder who came up with” He joked but when he turned to look at you his breath caught in his throat. You gazed at him with a soft smile, your eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. Your hand landed on his, holding it gently. “How do you want your credits?” You whispered, heart pounding as you leaned closer. Leon could feel your breath against his cheek, feel the weight of you as you leaned in closer to him. His eyes scanned you, looking for any sign that he was reading the situation wrong only to find that yours were doing the same. Waiting for the rejection from him, for him to push you away and leave you alone again. 

Leon didn’t dare, not when your lips tasted this sweet once he finally closed the gap. Your skin soft underneath his palms as he held your face and brought you close. The empty plates clattered to the floor, the sound muted as the blanket fell with them. Leon dominated you, pushing you back against the couch. “Are you sure about this?” He asked nervously, his body caged you in. His aftershave intoxicating you as you nipped at the skin of his neck. “I’m sure” You whispered against the stubble that covered his jaw. Slowly making a trail back to his lips. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing because we are lonely” 

“Good. Me neither” 

With a smirk his fingers began to slide up your pj top, helping you remove it quickly. “No bra?” He teased as he pulled one of the hardening buds in his mouth. Sucking at the flesh loudly, his tongue circling the bud with an infinity symbol flicking as he moved over it. You couldn’t even respond to him if you tried, your heart thumping as he kissed along the valley of your breasts. His fingers replacing his lips on the breast he left behind. Your fingers tugged at the strands of his hair, pulling him closer to your chest like you were trying to suffocate him with the sweet smell of lavender that lingers on you. 

You felt him smirk his teeth grazing the bud, small nibbles around the area that was soon to leave marks. He wasn’t even doing anything but devouring your breasts and it got you all hot and bothered. Your breathless moans were your only form of communication; words failing you as he continued to move south. His grip was gently – barely there as he moved his hands down to your thighs. Leon’s fingers dug into the soft flesh prying your legs apart. Your grey shorts are already displaying your eagerness to him. “Never pictured you to become this horny” He teases, his tongue moving up the insides of your thigh marking the journey he made. You felt him suck against the fabric, moaning deeply as the muted taste of you hit his tongue. 

His fingers returned their teasing touch, hovering above the waistband of the shorts. Leon however paused, glancing back up to you waiting silently for a final form of approval before doing anything. Your fingers stroked the soft strands of his hair as you smiled down at him and nodded. The shorts were removed fairly quickly and discarded somewhere in the room. “Cute” He chuckled upon seeing your underwear. You had totally forgotten about the heart shaped ones you wore this morning after not expecting company. “I…I wasn’t planning on this” You chuckled nervously. Your cheeks are heating up as embarrassment flooded through your system. You knew he didn’t care, not when his lust blown eyes watched the unveil of your underwear as he exposed your pussy. 

He watched the poor thing clench around nothing, the cold air making it twitch and spasm as you silently begged for attention. Who was he to deny you? This is what he wanted after all. To finally prove his affection and how much you mean to him, how much effect you had on his life since entering it. His kisses were firm, your arousal was just as sweet as your personality. Now sweetening up his bitter outlook on life. Fuck it was addictive, to ellicite each whine and whimper as he devoured your taste. His cock throbbed in his jeans. It was almost painful.

You didn’t miss the subtle shift in his hips as he ground them into the couch trying to give himself any form of pleasure he could. “Leon- please..more” You whimpered, tugging at the soft strands of his hair to get him to face you. His mouth curved into a grin upon hearing your request. Your slick coating his lips like lip gloss as he finally lifted his head to face you. “Anything for you” He grinned. The warmth seemed to follow him as he stood up, his presence immediately missed as began to remove his jeans and boxers in one fluid motion. 

His cock was pretty, the tip flushed red – cum beading in greeting of your greedy eyes. The shaft decorated in veins you knew would feel perfect as he moved himself through your folds. He knew he should fiddle through his pockets for that shiny wrapper, keep each other protected but at this moment he didn’t seem to care. Not when you were looking at him like that. Your legs spread even wider, pulling them back towards your chest as he returned to his spot. The couch had barely enough room for this type of motion, the coffee table limiting his leg room meaning it was an awkward angle. It didn’t matter in hindsight, not as he sunk himself in your welcoming warmth.

For the first time in years his mind was empty, no thoughts except for the pleasure that coursed through his cock, all of his blood rushing south. Fuck you were devine, he wouldn’t regret what he did to get to this moment. That poor woman who thought she was going to get lucky is now sobbing at home alone. He didn’t care not when you felt this fucking good. Tasted this fucking good. 

“I’m never letting you go” 

His obsession with you was rising, jealousy making him sick with thoughts of the competition he didn’t even have. Leon poured everything he could in the movement of his hips, hoping you’ll never forget the way his cock curved slightly as he entered. The tip brushed against your cervix as he pushed you further into the couch. Your nails grounded him, dug into his shoulder blades as you lost yourself to the feel of his cock. “I don’t want you to” 

The words were breathless, teased against the nape of his neck as you spoke them. His eyes met yours, he didn’t have to explain anything. Not with the history of his love circling around them. You had both been through too much, the job you shared demanding so much of everything. You both needed this. Something to return to – to remind you both you were still human. 

Your orgasm builds up quickly with his rhythmic thrusts hitting every spot you need him to. Your back arched with a gasp as it finally shattered through you, Leon smiled at the sight of you, his hips moved against yours at a bruising pace. It was a dangerous line to push himself this close without pulling out, the claim he could have by finishing inside you. Prevent you from finding anyone else, get anyone else from looking at you. He craved you for so long and it was gone too soon. “Where?” He grunted, burying his head in the crevice of your neck. “Inside” you whispered. 

He smiled against your skin, biting down as he finally let himself go. Your nails dragged along his skin as you felt his warmth flood through you. The two of you laid there, basking in the aftermath of your affection. Breaths mingling as you stared at each other with giddy smiles. “Happy valentines day” He whispered before bringing your lips in a sweet kiss. “Thank you, Leon” 

[crushoncaleb]

Be my valentine

Rafayel x reader

Fluff

1.4k words

You try to ask Rafayel to be your valentine. The keyword is try.

A/N. First time I have written something for a holiday or event and actually managed to post it in time! Basically, I couldn't sleep, and Rafayel possessed me. Hope y'all enjoy!

Is this...rejection?

You'd spent some time planning it, even bribed Thomas to get Rafayel the day off. But when you and Rafayel arrived at your usual spot at the beach. He didn't seem to take note of the seagulls at all.

The seagulls you had somehow managed to train into landing in the right order so the letters you stuck to them would ask him to be your valentine. Now, you'd be the first to admit, the whole plan was a little crazy, but with your and Rafayel's history and connection to the seagulls choir, you'd thought it would be cute.

If it had been any more subtle, you might've believed he genuinely missed it. But it's quite hard to believe someone like Rafayel would not see the literal seagull choir the two of you were here to visit. So naturally, you had to assume he was letting you down easy.

Even being let down easy hurt. It completely blindsided you. You were absolutely certain something had been brewing between you and the artist. Hell, last time you'd spent time with him after wearing new perfume, he'd spent about an hour shoving his face against you to breathe you in. You were SO certain that crossed the line of platonic.

You start questioning if perhaps you'd been reading social interactions wrong your entire life, as next to you, Rafayel starts getting antsy.

"Cutie, as much as the sky is beautiful today and I would love to spend time staring at it with you, we should go get lunch now. Thomas' endless texting has tired me out, and I'm huungry. " He speaks, his tone light and whiney as always, and for a second, you consider him world's greatest actor.

You decide that what you felt for Rafayel combined with the effort you'd put into this plan was worth the risk of heartbreak, so in a final effort to get him to acknowledge you, you speak up.

"Don't you want to see your trusty choir first? They're right there behind you. I'm sure they've missed their conductor." You're not sure if you manage to keep your tone quite as light and playful as intended, desperation tinging the edges of your words, but you've spoken them, now he HAS to respond.

A pause, anticipation clogs your veins, and you practically feel your blood pressure rising. "...there's a boat ride with a buffet that might be nice today, since the weather is so nice and all."

Your eyebrows raise, the casual tone of his voice so steady that you almost start questioning if you even did bring it up at all. But the quick look he takes at you and the way he turns away tells you he is definitely doing this on purpose.

It was truly rejection then, your stomach twists and a buffet and a boat ride with Rafayel suddenly sound daunting. You could get over rejection, but maybe not within 10 minutes.

"Hmm, that sounds nice but I'm actually starting to feel a little off," you muse on your excuse "I think I might head home a little earlier than planned today, Rafayel, rain check?"

He turns to face you now, slowly. Eyes wide and brows furrowed, expression reminiscent of that time you gave him a single apple when he checked himself into the hospital. A mix between shock, offense, and a silent command to change your mind.

He grabs your wrist and starts pulling you along. His expression changes in a heartbeat, and it's like you never said anything.

"They apparently have like a super long waiting list, but I got in pretty easily. Guess being well known does have its perks after all, huh?" He keeps talking in that same casual tone of his, which is starting to frustrate you to no end.

"Rafayel, I get that a rain check for the boat might not be easy if it's like that, but I really need to go home." You plead, trying to pull yourself out of his grip but he just turns to you, gives you that same expression that you're convinced only Rafayel can make properly, and then keeps going like you never opened your mouth.

You're baffled at his behavior, and by the time you recover, the two of you are making your way onto the boat.

"Now, I'm going to need you to stop looking so surprised, cutie." He reaches out to gently smooth his fingers over the muscles of your brows, which you will admit are a little tense from how you've had them raised the entire way here. "I need you looking as cute as you always do for the pictures we're gonna take here."

It was one thing to completely ignore what was practically a confession, another to blatantly ignore your request to go home, but the audacity to tell you to not be surprised at his antics? That was too far.

He tries to pull you along again, but you hold steady. He shoots you a questioning look. As if you're the one acting out of the ordinary.

"Rafayel, I want to go home," and you're proud of yourself for standing on business, convinced there is no way for him to just ignore that. In your defense, he doesn't.

Instead, he huffs, his gorgeous features taking on that oh so familiar, annoyed expression. His response is a short "no, you don't" before he takes a step closer to you, only to link your arms and pull you along with the new leverage that gives him.

Then, before you know it, you're standing at the front of the boat as it slides through the water. With no way home except a very prolonged dive.

Rafayel entertains you, and the entire situation had been confusing enough to distract you from his blatant rejection, but now that his weird behavior seems to be settling, reality starts creeping in. You're stuck with him now, so you'll have to keep yourself together until you manage to get off this boat. How vexing.

His first cough doesn't shake you out of the deep thoughts you're in and neither does the second so, Rafayel resorts to nudging you with his elbow when a red fish surfaces with a bottle in its mouth.

You look at him, but he pointedly looks away, like he didn't just practically poke your ribs out. When you lean towards the railing, the fish jumps, and the bottle flies towards you.

You're not actually in the mood to catch it, but your hunter instincts kick in, and in the blink of an eye, the intricate glass bottle is in your hands. You can see a note neatly curled up and tied with a bow, resting inside it.

"Wow, cutie, those are some reflexes." Rafayel feigns being impressed and then presses on. "You should open it. You won the bottle's secrets fair and square once you saved its life."

You narrow your eyes at him. This could not possibly have been more obviously set up by him. Though you will say, his sheer determination to have things go his way is admirable.

You comply, already knowing the only other option was to face his huffing and puffing before then having to comply after all.

The cork takes more effort to open than you'd like, and Rafayel smiles fondly at the slight flush that rises on your face in result. Once you unroll the note, though, your eyes widen.

There, in Rafayel's eclectic handwriting are the very words you'd strung up on your seagulls.

A beat passes, and Rafayel looks at you expectantly. A cute expression on his face, and for a second, you are torn between accepting just to keep him looking like that and raining down righteous retribution on him.

You decide you'd do both. "Rafayel, of course I'll be your valentine, but did you really ha-" his lips halt yours before you could complain at all and you feel said complaints melting away.

The kiss is sweet, Rafayel brings you into his arms as he starts to deepen it, you'd always suspected he'd be a needy kisser, but he pulls away before he gets carried away.

"Sorry, cutie. Couldn't have you interfering with my plans though, you have no idea how long I've waited to make this move." His voice sounds breathy, and his eyes don't leave your lips. His words are so sweet you could almost ignore how he's pretending this was your fault. Almost.

Yet, you'll let it slide. Because as he leans in for another kiss, you just can't find it in yourself to be upset with him.

[tucsonhorse]

@notenderlaith has good points here about considering inequality, the effect it would have on the land and most marginalized people, and where the resources would come from. These are all very important factors that must be considered and weighed.

As someone who lives in the middle part of the country where we're too far to benefit from sea commerce, too vital resource lacking to claim our own industry, and whose town in fact was a boom town when the railroads were built, I say the rest is patronizing bullshit. Let me cover some of the specific points here. (This is not intended to be condescending, this is the easiest way for me to organize my thoughts and a bit sarcastic because the tone I got from your post feels extremely paternalistic to me)

"Most parts of the US are livable from the land itself when it is taken care of". This is true, especially with trading with neighbors. It also ignores the need/desire for material goods that are unavailable and cannot be created in all locations. Do you like cotton clothes? You better live in the south cause without long distance trade you won't be able to have them. Do you enjoy things constructed of wood? Better not live on the great plains cause there's very little wood there, definitely not enough to support the needs of a full community. Need healthcare? Better hope it's only basic stuff cause individual towns aren't going to have enough call for specialists for it to be worth training any.

Oh, but you say that people could still travel between places? You're right, but if we rely on cars and individual transport alone that's going to continue being extremely harmful to the environment. And you mention the concern for Indigenous people, the poor and others. It's good you're concerned, because they're the ones who are going to have the most trouble traveling between places by car alone. The people who use our current passenger train options, at least out here in the empty middle of the country, are the poorest among us. Because train travel is far more affordable for them.

"ultimately the whole reason those trains exist is the reason the poor communities exist in the first place. Greed." So you're saying that isolated, poor communities in the middle of the country didn't exist before the railroad? You're going to want to learn about the history of these places because for one the Indigenous people already lived out here (and the ones I know rather like having inexpensive and easy transport to other places when they want to go there) and for another, people wanted the land and the freedom promised. Not everyone wants to live in a city, and a whole lot of people lived in the center of the country before the railroads and were poor then too, not because someone was greedily keeping things from them but because it's just plain difficult to get things across that long a distance any way but railroads. So if the people living here, especially the poor people as you point out, want access to anything that cannot be made right in their town it's going to have to be transported long distance over land.

"America got out of the great depression through infrastructure building..." No, America got out of the great depression through WW2 and the massive changes it caused.

"reworking the rail system would be a further driving force of capitalistic greed" The thing is that the rail system as it is right now is *great* for the capitalists. It is constantly moving huge amounts of freight, especially fossil fuels like oil and coal, and doing it really damn well. Reworking the rail system to make it both more useful for passenger rail and primarily passenger rail would actually counteract that. Passenger rail is not lucrative. If it were there are lots of companies that would jump right on to developing it further. It is something that only makes sense as a project done for the good of the people at large.

What it comes down to is that you can say "we should" all you want, but our communities becoming more self sufficient is not going to happen easily and even if it does happen it won't be anywhere near soon enough to stem the damage being done by fossil fuels. And remember that "self sufficiency" is itself a very colonialist mindset.

Improving the current rail system to make it better for passenger rail, and yes expanding it, would be far less damaging than continuing to use gas powered cars to move people (and goods) through and to those same areas. You're right that the expansion would create jobs immediately, it would also create significant physical mobility for people. And people aren't going to just stop wanting that even if individual communities were to become perfectly self sufficient over night.

Your comments suggest to me that you likely live in a city, though I do not claim to know this for sure. Creating self sufficient communities would require significant changes in what labor is being done, primarily requiring many more farmers, which will likely be difficult seeing as the current number of farmers is rapidly dwindling because children don't want to take over and their parents are unable to farm any more. It also means a significant change in what food people eat and how we store it. If anyone in the north wants any fruit or vegetables, really any produce, from November (some years October) to maybe June those have to be imported from warmer climes or preserved from the previous growing season. The physical distribution of people would also need to be significantly altered in order to add people to the small towns that have as few as 5 (there's even some with just 1 but at that point I wouldn't even call it a town) up to 50-100 people and significantly decrease the size of cities. Small towns will need far more people in order to complete just the basic tasks required to feed and clothe the town year round, and cities wouldn't have nearly enough land within easy travel distance to support all the people living there.

All of these changes can probably be made, *if* millions of people can be convinced that they need to be made and the logistics are somehow coordinated. But in the meantime goods and people will need to be moved, which would be more energy efficient and eco friendly if done by train.

I don't have a problem with anarchist philosophy, though I do think it ignores some basic realities, and I am very definitely anti-capitalist. I also am very aware of the reality we live in and just how slowly any societal level change will happen. I do not think that people will ever be willing en masse to go back to living as "simple farmers" and I know that the current lifestyle of your average US resident cannot be maintained in self sufficient communities. So we need to focus on making the current lifestyle less toxic and harmful to ourselves and the earth, rather than refusing to accept any option that is not the perfect ideal of the end result we want, because if we will accept only perfect then we will never change from where we are now.

yankee train posters be like "we should electrify [network that specifically exists to transport the largest amount of imperial loot inland]". deeply concerning

Do you want to rip out every rail line on the North American continent, you do realize how damaging that would be for the environment, if the infrastructure already exists, we should use and improve it

[aventurineswife]

Hello! Hope you're doing well!

So I sorta got rejected for Valentine's this year :cc so I was wondering if I could ask for Aventurine, Phainon, Dan Heng and maybe also Anaxa helping the reader with cope with rejection

Hope you're having a good day! Please take your time!! 🫶

Every Closed Door Leads to a New Beginning

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rejection, Healing, Emotional Support, Slow Burn, Self-Discovery, Inner Strength, Self-Worth, Healing Journey.

Warnings: Mentions of rejection, Emotional vulnerability, Mild angst.

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that 🫂 (sorry for the late response too😔🙏)

Tagslist: @themiddletenmasibling

Aventurine had seen countless deals collapse, empires crumble, and fortunes shift with the flick of a wrist. Rejection was just another spin of the wheel, an inevitable part of the game. But when he found you curled up in quiet devastation, he realized—this wasn’t just a failed wager to you. This was real, raw, and deeply personal.

He sighed, leaning against the edge of the table where you sat, hands folded in your lap. “Ah, rejection,” he mused, tilting his head dramatically. “A bitter drink, isn’t it? Like ordering the finest wine and finding it’s corked.”

You didn’t respond, only staring at your hands. The silence was an answer in itself. Aventurine’s usual smirk softened as he observed you—he could read people like open ledgers, and right now, you were on the verge of shattering.

“Tell me, darling,” he said, lowering himself to sit beside you, “what makes this so unbearable? Did you truly lose, or did you just not get the outcome you expected?”

You swallowed. “Does it matter? It still hurts.”

Aventurine clicked his tongue. “Of course it matters. If you lost, then you grieve and move on. But if it was only an outcome you didn’t anticipate, then all that’s changed is the direction of the wind.”

You shot him a glare. “So what? I should just pretend I don’t feel anything?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, no, my dear. Feel it. Wallow in it, if you must. But don’t let it define you.” His fingers ghosted over yours, deliberate yet light. “You know, if I let every rejection—every ‘bad hand’—dictate my life, I’d still be groveling in the dirt, licking the boots of men who never deserved my loyalty.”

You looked up, startled by his uncharacteristic sincerity. He smiled, but this time, it wasn’t sharp or teasing. It was something… quieter.

Aventurine stood, brushing imaginary dust off his coat. “Come,” he offered, holding out his hand. “I’ll teach you a lesson more valuable than gold—how to turn rejection into opportunity.”

“…And if I don’t want to?”

His grin returned, brighter now. “Then I’ll simply stay here, bothering you with endless metaphors and tragic poetry until you beg for mercy.”

A small, reluctant smile broke through your sadness, and Aventurine knew—he’d won this round.

Phainon found you standing alone, the weight of rejection pressing down on you like an unseen force. Your shoulders were tense, your breathing uneven, and he knew—he recognized the look of someone fighting to keep their heart from crumbling.

Without a word, he stepped beside you, his presence warm and steady. “You don’t have to talk,” he said gently. “But if you do, I’ll listen.”

You hesitated before finally whispering, “I wasn’t enough.”

Phainon’s brows furrowed. “That’s not true.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “How would you know?”

He turned slightly, eyes searching yours. “Because rejection doesn’t mean you lack worth. It only means this wasn’t the path meant for you.” His voice carried an unwavering kindness, a softness that wrapped around you like a shield against the pain.

You exhaled shakily. “It still hurts.”

Phainon nodded. “Of course it does.” He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “But you’re allowed to hurt. You’re allowed to grieve. Just don’t believe, even for a second, that this defines you.”

You looked down, squeezing his hand back. “How do you deal with it?”

He smiled wistfully. “I remind myself that my worth isn’t determined by someone else’s acceptance. And when that’s not enough… I turn to those who see me for who I truly am.”

You met his gaze, and in that moment, you realized—Phainon saw you. Not as someone rejected, but as someone strong, someone deserving of love and understanding.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

Phainon’s smile grew, bright and unwavering. “Always.”

Dan Heng wasn’t one to offer words freely, but he noticed the way your movements had lost their usual energy, the way your eyes seemed dimmer. He didn’t ask. He didn’t pry. Instead, he simply placed a cup of tea beside you and sat down, his presence solid and unwavering.

You stared at the tea, then at him. “You heard, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

“…And?”

Dan Heng took a slow sip of his own tea before speaking. “It isn’t the end.”

You scoffed. “Sure feels like it.”

His gaze remained steady. “It’s not.”

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… grounding. You found yourself tracing the rim of the cup, trying to gather your thoughts. “Why does it hurt so much?”

Dan Heng set his tea down. “Because you cared.” His voice was quiet but firm. “Because you invested a piece of yourself into something that didn’t return the way you hoped.”

You clenched your jaw. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

He looked at you for a long moment before answering, “Heal.”

You let out a shaky breath. “And if I don’t know how?”

Dan Heng shifted slightly, as if considering his words carefully. Then, he spoke with a certainty that made your chest ache.

“Then let me help.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the raw sincerity in his voice. Dan Heng wasn’t one for grand gestures or excessive reassurances, but this—this was real.

His presence alone was enough to remind you that even in rejection, you weren’t alone.

And for now, that was enough.

[ribbonedreverie]

“Unsent Love Letters”

Words they will never say, letters they will never send.

──────────

💌 Osamu Dazai – “To the One Who Almost Made Me Stay”

My love,

I wrote this knowing you will never read it.

Isn’t that the safest way to say what I mean?

I have always been a man of contradictions—laughing at things I do not find funny, living in a world I have no interest in staying in, reaching for love while knowing I will never hold it long enough to keep.

You, my dear, were the cruelest of them all.

Because you almost made me want to stay.

And that—that is something I can never forgive.

You saw too much. You noticed too much. You looked at me as though you understood, and I have spent too long hiding to let someone see me so clearly.

And yet, I almost let you.

Almost.

If there is another life, I hope I love you properly in that one.

Yours (but never truly),

Osamu

💌 Chuuya Nakahara – “To the One I Would Have Burned the World For”

Hey, doll.

I don’t know why I’m writing this.

Maybe it’s because I never told you enough. Maybe it’s because I told you too much. Maybe it’s because you left, and I don’t know what to do with all the words I never said.

I would have burned the world for you. You know that, don’t you?

I would have given you everything I had, even the pieces of me I don’t know how to share.

But love—love is cruel.

And I am my own kind of monster.

I wonder if you ever think of me. If you ever wonder what would have happened if we had met in a different life, in a different world, where love did not come with a price.

I would have been better for you in that one.

But here? In this one?

I loved you the best way I knew how.

And I hope, somehow, that was enough.

Yours, always,

Chuuya

💌 Fyodor Dostoevsky – “To the One Who Thought They Could Save Me”

My dear,

You were a fool to love me.

A fool to believe in me.

A fool to think that someone like me—a man built of conviction and cruelty and ruin—could ever be softened by something as fleeting as love.

But you tried anyway.

You touched me like I was something fragile. You spoke my name like it was something worth whispering. You kissed me as if you thought I could be saved.

And for that, I will never forgive you.

Because for a moment—just a moment—I wanted to believe you.

That is the greatest sin of all.

I will not apologize. I will not beg. I will not ask for you to stay.

But if you do—know that I will ruin you in return.

Yours, if you dare,

Fyodor

💌 Nikolai Gogol – “To the One Who Should Have Known Better”

Ah, my dear!

Do you regret it? Do you wish you had run? Do you ever think back to the moment we met and wonder if things would have been easier if you had never looked my way?

Because I do.

I think about it often.

I think about how simple it would have been if I had never touched you, never kissed you, never let you get close enough to make me hesitate.

(Oh, what a terrible thing—hesitation.)

But you were fun. You were so fun.

And I am not a man who lets go of his entertainment so easily.

So tell me, darling—was it worth it?

Would you do it again?

Even knowing how this ends?

With a smile,

Nikolai

💌 Sigma – “To the One Who Made Me Feel Like More Than a Gamble”

I’m scared.

That’s all I know how to say.

I’m scared of what it means to love someone. I’m scared of what it means to be loved. I don’t know if I deserve it, if I know how to return it, if I know how to hold something that is not meant to slip through my fingers like all the other things I have lost.

But I wanted to try.

With you, I wanted to try.

I wonder if that is enough.

If you could be patient with me. If I could learn how to love without fear.

I don’t know how this story ends.

But if you are in it—I hope it is a happy one.

Yours (if you’ll have me),

Sigma

💌 Ryunosuke Akutagawa – “To the One Who Showed Me Softness”

I do not know how to say this.

I do not know how to say anything, really—not the things that matter, not the things you want to hear.

So I will say this instead.

I see you.

I see the way you wait for me to speak, the way you listen even when I have nothing to say.

I see the way you do not flinch when I reach for you, the way you do not ask for things I do not know how to give.

I see the way you are patient with me, even when I do not deserve it.

And I think—I think I love you for it.

I do not know if I will ever say this aloud.

But if you ever wonder—know that I have never tried this hard for anyone before.

And if that is not love, then I do not know what is.

Yours, in whatever way I know how,

Akutagawa

💌 Ranpo Edogawa – “To the One Who Already Knows”

Why would I write a letter when you already know what I’m going to say?

You always do.

You read me too well. You know my moods, my habits, the way I lean against you like a cat seeking warmth but refuse to admit I need you.

You know I will never say I love you outright—because it’s obvious, isn’t it?

I do not waste time stating facts.

I do not waste time on things that are already understood.

But if you need to hear it—if you ever need proof—just look at the way I let you stay.

Look at the way I let you close.

Look at the way I never correct you when you assume I love you.

Because you are right.

You always are.

Yours (as if that wasn’t obvious),

Ranpo

──────────

There’s something tragically beautiful about unsent love letters—words aching to be read, confessions swallowed by time. They hold a love that lingers, untouched by reality, forever suspended in what-ifs. Perhaps in another life, I sent them. Perhaps you read them. But here, they remain unread, and maybe that’s where they were always meant to stay. ♡

[mrsshabana]

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 ♡ 𝐄𝐦𝐨!𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♡

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Emo!Gyutaro x female!reader, modern au, college au, fluff ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words. Sorry I'm posting this so late, I had almost no time to write it so it's very rushed. But I wanted to give everyone something to read today even though it's short. Happy Valentine's Day!

God, did Gyutaro hate Valentine's Day.

Everything about it disgusted him. From the bright colors and sweet smells to the mushy feelings and love confessions. Thinking about the horrid day made him gag.

It didn't make sense to him. Half of these people who celebrate Valentine's Day together will be broken up before the year ends. So what's the point? Haven't they learned yet that love is a facade that only ends in a broken heart?

Maybe that's the emo in him speaking, but can you blame the boy for feeling that way?

His heart has never beat for another. To be honest, most people would be convinced that his heart doesn't beat at all. From his never-ending brooding attitude and his overtly emo attire.

Love isn't something he often thinks about. But deep down he does fantasize about having someone to love, especially around this time of year. That's why you'll rarely see him leave his dorm during February, except for attending mandatory classes of course.

Seeing all of these couples holding hands and being all lovey-dovey, a part of him yearns for it. Sure they are probably inevitably destined to end in heartbreak. But sometimes he wonders if experiencing love is worth the heartache. Maybe that's why people always come back each year to celebrate this dreaded holiday.

By now he's pretty convinced that love wasn't meant for him so he does whatever he can to drown everything out. Because there's no way in hell a girl would ever take interest in him, so it's better to just avoid them all.

When Valentine's Day finally comes Gyutaro begrudgingly leaves his dorm. But not before he puts on the heaviest, most anti-normal person emo garb that he has. Of course, he has his usual graphic tee, skinny jeans, and black jacket with the sleeves rolled up. But today he makes sure to put the black eyeliner on heavy and wear spiked bands around his wrists. The combat boots and metal chain on his hip top the look off.

He hopes this will be enough to deter anyone from speaking to him today. He only has two classes so as long as he can get through that then he'll be fine. Steering clear of any painfully romantic couples canoodling all throughout campus.

The day goes by longer than it should, but eventually, he gets through his classes.

Though he can't shake this heavy feeling inside of his chest. He tries to ignore it but as he saw more and more reminders of what today symbolizes the feeling only got stronger and stronger.

"Why am I feeling this way...?" he mumbles to himself as he clutches his chest. Inexplicably his eyes begin to water as the feeling worsens.

Panicked and annoyed, Gyutaro quickly leaves the building and walks towards one of his favorite spots near campus, a small secluded creek surrounded by tall trees that make him feel like he's in another world. He has to trudge through some shrubs to get there, but he always goes here when he wants to be alone.

Sitting down on a fallen log and lighting a cigarette, Gyutaro sighs.

He doesn't want to admit it, but he does feel incredibly lonely. Sometimes he internally curses everyone who has things that he doesn't, especially when it comes to having a loving relationship. He knows he isn't the easiest guy to get along with so the relationship would probably go south anyways. But that doesn't stop him from yearning for it. All he wants is to be loved. Is that really so much to ask?

He closes his eyes and takes a drag of his cigarette, trying to shift his thoughts to anything else.

But he's quickly snapped out of it when he hears a twig snap behind him.

"Shit," he mutters and puts out his cigarette. Did someone follow him? Maybe it's just an animal...

"Hello?" he shouts, hoping that it is indeed just an animal and not a couple that wanted to sneak away together.

"Erm... hi, um... sorry to bother you," you say with a shaky voice as you emerge from the trees.

"Y/N?" his eyes widen as he recognizes you as one of the girls in his art class. Honestly, he only remembered your name because he thought you were really cute. Not to mention sweet too. You haven't talked to him much, but the few times you did you were always abnormally kind to him. Something he wasn't used to from people.

"Yeah, sorry I um," you stutter not sure what to say as you realize how weird it would be to tell him that you followed him out here.

"What're you doin' here?" he raises a brow.

"I-I wanted to give you this!" you shout, your nerves getting the best of you as you force yourself to just spit it out already, "Happy Valentine's Day!" You swiftly hold out a velvet heart-shaped box.

"What..." he whispers in disbelief, "This for me?"

"Yes! I hope you like it," your entire face is red as you awkwardly hold the item, hoping he'll just take it already.

He narrows his eyes as if he doesn't believe you, but he takes the box anyway. Flipping it over, inspecting every detail, seeing his black painted nails shine as he moves his hand around the box. God do you love how he paints his nails.

"What is it?" he asks skeptically.

"It's a bomb," you respond.

His eyes widen as he stares back at you like you're a madwoman.

"Gyutaro, I'm joking!" you chuckle, lightening the mood, "Just open it already!"

He scoffs, holding back a laugh as he opens the velvet box. Inside are messily decorated chocolates in heart shapes.

"They taste better than they look, I promise..." you say sheepishly, hoping he won't hate them.

"Did you... actually make these?"

"Mm hm," you nod, "I tried to at least..."

He genuinely can't believe it. He doesn't even care that half of the chocolates look like turds, he's just touched that someone went out of their way to make something for them. Hell, he would have been happy if you just bought a box of chocolates from Walmart. But this? He never expected someone to do this for him.

"Are you trying to fuck with me?" he says in disbelief, his mind telling him that there's no way this isn't a joke or a cruel prank.

"W-Well um... maybe after a few dates..."

"... what?" his cheeks go red, "N-No! That wasn't what I meant- fuck um... never mind," he stutters, flustered by the thought that a pretty girl like you actually is considering having sex with him.

"Th-thank you," he spits out, "I love it." An awkward smile pulls on his lips, revealing his crooked teeth.

But it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

You've been crushing on him so hard ever since you met him this semester. He hasn't talked to you very much, but he doesn't seem unpleasant. Just quiet.

But when you happened to see him talking to his friends one day after class, you witnessed him smile for the very first time. And it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You wished that one day you could make the cute emo boy smile like that.

And you finally did. Even if he ends up rejecting you, you don't care. You made him smile and that was what you were really aiming for. A rare reaction you barely see cross his face.

But honestly, Gyutaro doesn't know how to react. He's awkward and shy and totally not used to interacting with people like this. Let alone cute girls.

In an attempt to show his desire to get closer to you, Gyutaro scoots over and pats the spot beside him, "Wanna join me?"

"S-Sure!" You say eagerly as you take a seat beside him.

Gyutaro leans back, staring up at the sky as he tries to process everything that's happening right now. But there's one question he can't get off his mind, "What made you wanna give this to me?"

"I think you're really cool..." you shyly admit as you fiddle with your fingers, not brave enough to look at him as you confess your feelings, "I like your style and I always wanted to get to know you better. But I never knew how."

He's internally kicking himself for making himself appear so unapproachable. Sure it kept the normies away like he wanted but it also kept cool people like you away that genuinely wanted to get to know him.

"Aw man... thanks. I think you're pretty cool too," he smiles, putting his hand on top of yours, "Maybe we can hang out sometime outside of class... I-If you want to."

"Of course! I'd love to," you beam excitedly, not only because he wants to hang out with you but also because he's touching you right now, "Y'know I um... I'm not doing anything tonight."

"Me neither," he blushes and turns to you, "Wanna come over? I have a sick record collection we could listen to."

"I'd love that, Gyutaro," you say, squeezing his hand. Just happy that you get to see the emo boy smile. But this won't be the last time, you'll be seeing that crooked smile of his a lot more after today.

[juniperskye]

Mr. Bear

Based on the following ask: @itzvenus04 Aaron X reader where Aaron is a little jealous of when reader cuddles the teddy more, but he rather have her cuddle the teddy when he’s away on a case then someone else or something like that, especially when reader made sure the teddy smelled like him, but one morning he makes the bed and holds the teddy and looks at it, seeing some marks on it and stains and a few holes and a small tear on its side, clearly loved by reader for many years now and it makes him a little sad seeing the teddy like this and how sad his gf will be one day if she has to throw it away, knowing full well she wants to pass down the little teddy bear to her kids no wait their kids someday, hopefully a baby girl someday but then he decides to fix the teddy and clean him up or ask someone to help him maybe someone like Garcia idk and surprise reader with the teddy looking brand new and reader is so happy Aaron can’t be jealous of it because the smile on reader face is so worth it even if she cuddles a another man *wink* he’s literally a teddy bear – this is a short one babe, it’s a super cute idea and I loved writing it!

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader Fluff Word count: 997

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, one use of y/n – it was unavoidable, age gap (non-specified), reader has a teddy that she cuddles when she sleeps, jealous Hotch (in a teasing way), Garcia being the best, let me know if I missed anything.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“You cuddle that thing more than you cuddle me.” Aaron whined teasingly.

“Oh, I do not!” You giggled, turning over and nuzzling into Aaron’s strong chest, your hands still clutching your beloved teddy, Mr. Bear.

“I don’t know babe, I’m thinking I might have to be worried. You have maintained a very long and serious relationship with this guy…and now look, he is quite literally coming between us.” Aaron’s tone was completely unserious as he playfully fought to take Mr. Bear from you.

Aaron shifted so he was hovering over you, his hands tickling your sides relentlessly. You writhed beneath him, desperately trying to get away from his grasp.

“Okay I surrender! I surrender!” You giggled, booping Aaron in the nose with Mr. Bear.

Aaron couldn’t help but notice that your teddy had smelled just like his cologne. The thought made him smile, you spraying your bear with his cologne just so it would smell like him, cuddling it while he was away.

--

“Okay! Coffee?” You asked.

“Coffee would be great.” He smiled “You go, I’ll make the bed.”

You made your way to the kitchen and got a pot of coffee going. You then began heating a pan to make some eggs, throwing some slices of bread in the toaster to go along with it.

Aaron when through the motions of making the bed, pulling the pillows off while he tugged the sheet and duvet up to the top of the mattress. He neatly arranged the pillows, noticing Mr. Bear at the foot of the bed. Aaron hadn’t realized how threadbare your teddy had really become; he was very clearly well loved.

Aaron thought about what he could do to fix him up, knowing that you had hoped to eventually pass the bear down to your future child.

--

“What can I do for you sir?”

“Garcia, what do you know about restoring plush toys?”

“Oh sir, I went down a seven-hour rabbit hole of stuffy restoration videos on TikTok, what do you need?”

“Well, I want to surprise y/n, she’s had this teddy since she was a child and he’s looking a little worse for wear.”

“Leave it to me…do I have your permission to work on it today – provided we don’t have a case?”

“Of course. Thank you Penelope.”

“Any time sir.”

--

Aaron had discretely placed Mr. Bear in his bag for work, gathering the remainder of his things. He made his way to the kitchen to have breakfast with you.

He helped you clean up before you both headed out for work.

“Aar, I have conferences tonight, so I will be home later than usual.” You reminded him.

“That’s right! I’ll get dinner started for us when I get home.”

“You’re the best. I love you baby, drive safe! Let me know if you guys get called away okay?” You requested.

“I love you too honey, I will. Drive safe, see you tonight.”

--

Aaron had made his way straight to Garcia’s office as he arrived at the BAU. He pulled out Mr. Bear and handed him over to Penelope, making her swear that she’d be careful with him.

“You got it sir.”

Penelope had brought in everything she could think of to help her repair your teddy. Penelope began by opening Mr. Bear and removing his stuffing so she could wash him carefully using warm water and a gentle detergent. Letting it dry, using the bathroom hand dryer to speed that process along before checking out where she might need to patch a few things. She used a technique called darning to patch the few small holes that had been created through years of love; once this had been done, Penelope brushed Mr. Bear’s fur to get him looking fluffy again.

Penelope had made two small hearts out of some scrap fabric, filling them both with Mr. Bears old stuffing, she placed one inside him as she stuffed him with new polyfill and kept the other one out as a keepsake for you. Once he was all filled up, she sewed him closed, brushed him once more and tied a neat ribbon around his neck.

The process had taken her the entire workday, though she and her boss didn’t seem to mind.

--

Aaron had been amazed with the work Penelope had done, Mr. Bear looked brand new, and he couldn’t wait to see your reaction to him!

“Hi honey, I’m home!” You called out, entering the apartment.

“Hi baby, in the kitchen.”

The apartment smelled amazing, it had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to eat whatever it was that Aaron had been cooking. Truthfully you wanted to eat and then curl up into bed and watch a movie.

“Mmm it smells amazing!” You sighed, taking in the table set up. Amongst the place settings sat a giftbag. “Did I forget something? I know it’s not our anniversary.”

“No honey, you didn’t forget anything, I just wanted to do something special for you.” Aaron explained. “Go ahead and open it.”

Aaron sat across from you, having already set the food on the table. You looked at him skeptically, pulling the bag into your lap and carefully pulled out the tissue paper. A shocked gasp escaping you as you revealed its contents.

“Aaron, what is – what did you – I don’t…I don’t know what to say.” Tears sprung to your eyes.

“I know how much he means to you, and I thought it would be nice to have him fixed up a bit, you know, so he’ll last a while longer.” Aaron wore a sheepish smile.

“This is amazing. You are so thoughtful.” You leaned over the table, pressing your lips to his.

You couldn’t believe that Aaron had done this, going as far as spraying him with his cologne so he’d still smell like him. Aaron was the best thing that ever happened to you, and every time he did something like this, it reminded you of that.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[emsdevs]

No Strings? pt 2

a/n: surprise!! i took a break from the celly prompts (i have sooo many more to go through i promise I'm still working on them) to work on part 2 of No Strings?! i had wayyy too much fun with this one! hope you guys enjoy!

ps: keep an eye out for our guy eliis!

masterlist | NFL Masterlists | Justin Herbert Masterlist | No Strings?

It had been two weeks since you saw Justin in that cafe, and slowly but surely, you’d been getting better. It took a while, but you finally realized you were worth more than getting pushed aside. You realized Justin had been lying the whole time. His career wasn’t what was keeping the two of you from being together officially. It was the fact that he didn’t actually feel anything for you because if he did, you’d be the girl tabloids are currently writing about. Every online gossip page you’ve seen over the past week has been about nothing but the girl who has “locked down” the Chargers’ star quarterback. After getting over the initial nausea that it caused, you decided you shouldn’t sit around waiting for someone who obviously didn’t care about you, so you got dressed up and went out for the first time in a long time.

While at a bar you used to frequent, you met a guy named Ellis. He was nice enough, and he spent the night buying you drinks, which you loved. However, when the night came to an end, you couldn’t let yourself go home with him. You just weren’t in the right place for that, and as much as you hate to admit it, you weren’t over Justin. Tonight, though, you were ready to move on, to give yourself another shot at finding someone you could love, love openly.

You decided to go out again, putting on your favorite dress. You put on some makeup and curled your hair, and after blasting some music and taking a couple of shots to hype you up, you were with your girls headed for a fun night out. Soon enough, your group had completely let loose, and you were on the prowl for someone you’d let take you home. After looking for what feels like forever, you call it quits and let one of your girls drag you out to the dancefloor. It’s while you’re there that he finds you.

You feel a gentle hand on your waist, so you turn to meet one of the most attractive guys you might have ever seen. He’s giving you an easy smile, and in that second, any thought you might have had about Justin flew from your mind.

“Hey, pretty lady. You alone tonight?” he asks in a silly voice that somehow makes you want to laugh and swoon simultaneously.

“Yes! She’s completely free!” your friend chimes in for you. 

“Mind if I steal her from you then?” his attention is directed toward her now, and you begin to think you want it to always be on you. 

“Go right ahead!” she gives him a cheery smile before turning her attention to you, “We won’t wait up! But please keep us updated!”

“Promise!” you assure her before she walks off to find the rest of your group and most likely tell them about your suitor.

“I was gonna ask you if you wanted to dance some more, but I’m thinking it might be a better idea to find some place quieter?” he makes the statement sound like a question, leaving the ball in your court. 

“I’m down for that,” you’re pretty sure you’d be down for almost anything he wanted to do right now.

“Perfect! C’mon, I know this great little diner down the street,” he grabs your hand pulling you outside with him. Once you’re right outside the doors of the bar, he comes to an abrupt stop, “I’m so sorry. Where are my manners? I’m Trevor,” that easy smile is back and brighter than ever.

After sharing your name with him, he begins guiding you toward the diner. The two of you shared nice conversation on the way, getting the typical small talk out of the way then. When you get to the diner, Trevor orders a side of fries for you both to share, and you each get a milkshake. The two of you talk back and forth for a while, just chatting about recent events in both of your lives. That leads to Trevor asking what brought you to the bar tonight after telling you he needed a break from the stress his work brings him.

“Oh, god,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat and throwing your head back a little, “You probably don’t wanna know.” You laugh a little, playing off your nervousness.

“C’mon, I won’t judge. You getting over an ex or something?” he sends an easy smile your way.

“Yeah, actually. I am.”

“Oh. Well, please, share with the class.”

“You sure you wanna hear it?”

“Yep. I’m all ears,” his eyes meet yours as he pops a fry in his mouth.

“Well,” you lean toward him, ready to share your sob story. “So basically, I went on a few dates with this guy, and when we were about to hook up for the first time, he told me he couldn’t be in a relationship because of his job. So I was a little delusional and agreed to no strings attached, but eventually, I caught feelings for him.”

“Oooh,” Trevor grimaces.

“Just wait. There’s more,” your tone says everything he needs to know, so he gestures for you to continue. “So I end up telling him, right? Of course, he tells me we can’t see each other anymore, so I leave his house literally sobbing. And to beat it all, just a few months later, I saw him out on a date at a coffee shop we used to regular. Obviously, that sent me reeling, and now all I see online is the girl that ‘tamed’ him,” you finish your story with a roll of your eyes.

“Hold up. I have a few questions,” Trevor raises his hands a little and closes his eyes.

“Shoot.”

“Okay, so you’re seeing his girlfriend in the headlines? I might be overstepping, so you definitely don’t have to answer, but who is this guy?”

“Justin Herbert,” you’re grimacing once again.

“The Chargers’ quarterback?” he’s whisper-shouting in your face.

“Trevor!” you match his tone.

“Sorry. Sorry. I just didn’t peg him as that kinda guy, ya know?”

“Oh, trust me. I know.”

“Okay, yeah. Good point. Okay, so next question. He really lied to you about not being able to have a girlfriend just to hard launch one a few months later?” “It’s insane, right? Like he literally told me that it would be better that way anyway because he just wouldn’t have the time to fully commit. Turns out, he just didn’t wanna commit to me.”

“Well, he’s an idiot. I mean, I’ve known you for like an hour, and I’m ready to commit right now.”

“Smooth, Trevor,” you roll your eyes again.

“I’m being so serious, right now. Go on a date with me. I’ll treat you the way you deserve to be treated,” he lays his hand out on the table, giving you a physical offer as well.

You look at him for a moment, deciding how much you trust him. After finding nothing but earnestness in his eyes, you move your hand to lay in his before he wraps it up. “Okay. I’m holding you to that, Trev.”

“Ooh, nicknames already? You’re moving fast. Am I that irresistible?” that beautiful bright smile is back, and you’re thinking you want to see it every day from now on.

~~

You and Trevor had been going out for about two months now, and you’d officially been his girlfriend for just over a month. Everything had been going so wonderfully, and you can’t believe how lucky you are to have found him. Tonight, he decided to come hang out at your place after practice. You two had ordered some takeout and put on a movie while you ate. Your food was all gone, and you and Trevor had been cuddled up on the couch for a while now, content to keep the movies playing while you enjoyed each other’s company.

Both of you jumped a little when you heard a knock on the door, neither of you expecting it. After sharing a confused look with Trevor, you get up and make your way to the door. When you pull it open, you freeze. The last person you expected to see on the other side was Justin Herbert.

“Justin?” his name falls from your mouth quickly, like it’s not supposed to be there. Really, it’s not anymore.

“I really need to talk with you,” his eyes are pleading, but it won’t work on you. Not now.

“Now is seriously not a good time,” you pull the door closer to you, trying to get your point across.

“Please. I just- I messed up,” he steps closer, but you hold your ground.

“Justin, no. You had your chance, okay?”

“Please, baby, you have to hear me out, okay?” tears are brimming his eyes now.

“No. No. You don’t get to do that. I’m happy now, Justin. Go back home.”

“No, please! I messed up letting you go. I thought I wasn’t ready to commit and that I wouldn’t have time, but when you left I felt this hole in my heart. It won’t go away, no matter what I do. I got a girlfriend to convince myself I was fine, but she’s not you. Please, baby, just give me one more chance,” he’s begging at this point, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. 

Just as you’re about to tell Justin to leave again, you feel a hand on your waist and hear Trevor’s voice behind you, “Who’s this, babe?” He presses a kiss to the top of your head when he finishes his sentence, and if you had to bet, he probably looked at Justin while he did it. He knows exactly who Justin is. He could just tell he wasn’t gonna leave anytime soon and figured he’d come to help you out a little. He’d never minded being a little messy sometimes. “Hey, man I’m the boyfriend, Trevor,” he’s shooting Justin a wicked grin, not caring at all about whatever Justin might be feeling after how he made you feel.

“Boyfriend?” Justin is only looking at you now.

“What? You can move on, but I can’t?” your words have a bite to them.

“I just told you I never moved on?” his statement is formed like a question.

“Well, I did, and the only reason that was able to happen is because you let me go. I’m sorry you regret that, but actions have consequences, Justin. If you wanted me so badly, you should’ve kept me around when you had a chance.”

“But-”

“No, man,” Trevor pushes the door open a little more and steps around you. He begins to usher Justin away from your doorstep, “She’s said her peace. She’s moved on. It’s time you do too. Okay, bud? Scurry on back to whatever model you were using to distract yourself from my girl, alright?” 

When he deems Justin is far enough away, he turns back around to head back to you. He urges you inside before slamming and locking the door, being sure Justin knew he wasn’t welcome. 

“C’mon, baby. Let’s go make out in front of the window, so he knows what he’s missing,” he has that same bright grin on his face, and suddenly, any negative feelings you had are gone. You laugh with your head tipped back as he drags you along, content to go along with whatever antic he thinks up.

a/n: guess i should fix the banner huh? sorry to any justin girlies! i just made him too much of a jerk in pt 1 :( reader deserved better! so um crossover episode i guess! banner fixed below

taglist: @heartsforjh @irishmanwhore @heartforherbert @jusaints @one-sweet-gubler @dancerbailey3 @fofiquierellorar @devilinpradaheels @macklin-celbrini-71 @puckmedude @pickedapuck @alexxavicry 

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[saythenametotheworld]

Guilty As Sin | l.dh (18+)

A summer in Mykonos, a tumultuous romance, and a classmate who’s always been trouble—only this time, you’re too broken to care. What starts as an escape from the wreckage of your past relationship soon becomes a mess of its own. Was it worth it?

one | two | three | FOUR | five

Genre: destination au, smut Pairing: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), mentions of alcohol and drug use Notes: 24k words. Part four of the Campus Confessions series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. This took too long. Sorry. Song prompt was Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

Playlist: Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift, Tsunami by NIKI, Fresh Outta Slammer by Taylor Swift

I'm seeing visions am I bad? Or mad? Or wise?

In the sea of sweaty and intoxicated clubgoers, you moved to the music—loud, pulsing, and perfect for drowning out the thoughts you didn’t want to face. You weren’t sure how long you’d been here, but the sticky warmth of the crowd and the sharp burn of whatever you’d drunk earlier were enough to keep you from caring.

Someone came up behind you, his presence invasive before his hand even brushed your waist. “Hi, there. You alone?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the bass.

You ignored him, stepping away, but he followed, leaning in too close. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Just one dance.”

“I’m not interested,” you said sharply, turning to face him.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the grin on his face didn’t waver. “Alright, alright. No need to play hard to get.”

You moved farther into the crowd, hoping he’d lose interest, but it didn’t work. His hand wrapped around your wrist, and you stumbled as he pulled you back.

“Let go,” you snapped, yanking your arm, but his grip only tightened.

“Don’t be such a bitch,” he growled.

The slap came before you even thought about it and the sharp crack of your palm against his cheek cut through the music. His head snapped to the side, and when he turned back, his expression was dark. 

Before he could do anything, someone grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “I think she said no.”

You didn’t need to look to know who it was—you’d recognize that voice anywhere. Donghyuck was grinning, his voice was light, but the pointed look on his face was unmistakable. The guy dropped your wrist, and you stumbled back as Donghyuck stepped between you.

“Come on, man. Let go of the lady,” Donghyuck said, his tone conversational but his gaze cold. “Unless you like being remembered as the creep who harasses women because he can’t take no for an answer?” he added, nodding toward the crowd.

The guy hesitated, his gaze darting to the growing attention of the crowd. He muttered something under his breath before walking away.

Donghyuck turned to you, his grin softening into something more playful. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you muttered, rubbing your wrist.

“No, but you needed it,” he said with a shrug. “You’re lucky I’m so chivalrous.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I think you’re a much bigger creep than he is, Lee Donghyuck,” you mocked, but he simply shrugged, ignoring what you said.

“You’re a long way from your usual crowd, looking like that.” His eyes scanned you, just for a second, taking in the cling of your dress. “What’s the story? No friends? No boyfriend? No Jeno?”

The name hit like a slap of its own, but you didn’t flinch. “Stop asking. It’s none of your business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You made it my business the second you walked into my line of sight.” His grin turned wicked, as if he enjoyed your irritation. He leaned even closer, his lips almost brushing your ear. “If I stopped asking questions, would you go home with me?”

You huffed a laugh, but it came out harsher than you intended. “Never in your wildest dreams.”

Donghyuck hummed, as if you hadn’t just shut him down. “Didn’t think you’d say yes anyway. But it doesn’t hurt to try, does it?” He pulled something from his pocket—a sleek, black hotel keycard—and slid it into your hand. “In case you change your mind.”

You stared at him, but he was already walking away, disappearing into the crowd like he hadn’t just said something so suggestive. Though, that didn’t do much to derail your night. You stuffed the card into your purse and threw yourself back into the music, letting the alcohol burn away the irritation.

Later, as you stepped out of the club, the cool night air sobering you slightly, your eyes caught Donghyuck by the sidewalk. He was leaning against a taxi, phone in hand, looking like he had all the time in the world.

He looked the same as he always did on campus—a plain black shirt with a small logo and matching black cargo pants, white sneakers, and his chestnut brown hair falling loosely across his forehead. The only thing missing was a jacket to complete his everyday look.

Now, why would someone wear their usual college fit in a club? You have no idea. But since it was Donghyuck, he needed not to worry about his clothes. His best suit had always been the air around him—charming, confident, and effortlessly magnetic. The kind of aura that made it impossible to ignore him, no matter how hard you tried.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone—not even to yourself—but Donghyuck had a pull on you. And it was infuriating, like a loop of thread you couldn’t untangle, no matter how many times you swore you’d cut it.

“Lee Donghyuck,” you called, exasperation slipping into your voice. “Not you again.”

He looked up, his grin widening when he saw you. “Of course, it’s me again. I couldn’t leave without my keycard, could I? How else would I get into my room tonight?”

“You shouldn’t have left it with me in the first place,” you shot back, walking toward him.

“Maybe I wanted to see if you’d use it,” he quipped, eyes gleaming.

You held the card out, but instead of taking it, he grabbed your hand. “Last chance,” he said, half-smiling. “Sure you don’t wanna come with me? No strings, just one night for friendship’s sake? Or two, if you find me worthy enough. I know you would.”

“What friendship are you even talking about? We’re not friends.”

Donghyuck nodded thoughtfully. “You know what? I agree. Why should we be friends when we can be more than that?”

“Give it a rest, Hyuck,” you sighed, pulling your hand free. “It’s pathetic at this point.”

He didn’t seem fazed, flashing you a wink before sliding into his taxi. “Alright then, good night, princess.” As the cab pulled away, he blew you a kiss through the open window, and you could only shake your head in exasperation.

Then, you hailed your own cab, and told yourself the night was over, that you wouldn’t let him get to you. But as the city lights blurred past the window, his voice echoed in your mind. Then, as if to fan the fire, the taxi happened to pass by a posh hotel with a glowing sign that was impossible to ignore. It was the same hotel on Donghyuck’s keycard.

“Take me to that hotel,” you said before you could think twice.

It took three minutes to pull up to the entrance. Donghyuck was just stepping into the building when you got out of the cab.

“Lee Donghyuck!”

He paused, turning slowly as the porter held the door for him. The smirk on his face was triumphant—bright and infuriatingly charismatic, as if he knew all along that you’d change your mind and follow him in the end.

“There you are, love, ” he drawled, his voice smooth as silk.

The next day at home, you sat quietly at the dinner table, listening to your mom and sister talk about you, but not to you—a habit they unknowingly developed whenever you had your occasional quiet days where you’d rarely speak a word to anyone about anything.

Apparently, your sister is going on a business trip to Greece and wants to take you with her. And right now, she’s having a discussion with your mother who thought it was a bad idea.

“I’m not trying to hold her back from having a grand vacation, but—” Your mom’s voice softened as her gaze shifted to you. “Have you seen her these days? She’s not okay. Something is going on, and she wouldn’t even tell us.”

Her hand reached for yours on the table, her touch warm and familiar. “But it’s fine, sweetheart. You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

You flashed a sheepish smile just as your sister started her counter-argument. “Exactly, mom. That’s why this trip is good for her. It will help get her mind off of things. She can relax, have fun, and experience Mykonos. It’s a beautiful place. I have only seen pictures for now, but I already know a place like that is definitely gonna cure my depression.”

Your mom sighed, exasperation flickering across her face as she gave your sister a pointed look. “We do not make light of serious conditions,” she said sternly.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry.” Your sister held her hands up in surrender before glancing at you. “But you get my point, right?”

You merely nodded, looking down at your food and poking it with the fork.

Your family had no idea what happened back in NCIT, just that you came home after the semester looking glum and stayed indoors all week. Then you stayed out yesterday and didn’t come home until noon today. Hence the subject of tonight’s dinner conversation.

“She didn’t leave the house all week, except for last night. Isn’t it possible she doesn’t want to go at all?” Her gaze lingered on you. “What do you think, sweetie? Say something.”

You looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time. Her worry was evident, but so was the hope that you might open up, even just a little.

“It’s alright, mom. I’ll go,” you said simply, glancing at your sister. “Yeah, I’d love to go.”

You put no real effort into packing. A few pajamas, some random dresses, some swimsuits for the beach—you figured it would be enough. But your sister, ever the perfectionist, had other ideas.

She poked her head into your room and took one look at the mess of your suitcase. “Are you serious? This is what you’re bringing to Greece?”

“What? It’s just a trip,” you muttered, flopping onto your bed and watching her roll her eyes like you’d committed a crime.

“A trip to Mykonos. You’re not going to a sleepover.” She marched to your closet and started rifling through it with the precision of someone on a mission. One by one, she pulled out pieces—skirts, blouses, sundresses, bikinis—and tossed them onto the bed.

“I’m fine with what I packed,” you tried, but she waved you off. “It has all the essentials.”

“Girl, I know you can do better than this, but I understand that you’re not as excited as your ‘fun’ self would’ve been, so just let me do this for you.” She paused, holding up a pair of bikinis. “This is definitely going in. You’ll thank me later.”

You let her do her thing, too lazy to argue. As she packed, she rattled off questions in her usual rapid-fire style. “Do you have your passport? What about your ID? Did you check your phone chargers? Oh, and don’t forget a power adapter. European outlets are different, you know.”

With a sigh, you got up and started gathering the essentials. “I’ll get them,” you said, trying to tune out her nagging as you went through your drawers.

A few days later, you stepped out of the airport and were greeted by a burst of sunlight and the crisp, salty breeze of Mykonos. The sky stretched endlessly above, with a vivid shade of blue that seemed too perfect to be real.

You had expectations for this trip—mostly vague ones of decent hotels and laid-back beach days. But the reality was something else entirely.

A sleek black sedan waited for you at the curb, the driver holding a sign with your sister’s name on it. You glanced at her, eyebrows raised in amazement. “Seriously?”

She grinned, tossing her carry-on into the trunk. “What? Did you think we’d be taking a bus?”

The ride to the hotel was smooth and scenic, winding past white buildings and crystal-clear waters. But nothing prepared you for the sheer opulence of the place where you’d be staying.

The car pulled up to a sprawling five-star hotel on a cliff, with its white walls blending seamlessly with the island’s iconic landscape. A porter took your bags as you followed your sister through the grand entrance, your footsteps echoing against the marble floors.

When you stepped into your suite, your jaw nearly dropped. The room was massive—far too big for just the two of you—with floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto a private balcony overlooking the Sea. The sunlight poured in, highlighting every inch of the furniture and sleek decor.

“Okay,” you said, blinking at the view. “This… is not what I expected.”

Your sister laughed, flopping onto one of the oversized beds. “Yeah, the company’s pulling out all the stops. They want me to close a deal with some big-shot investor, so they’re making sure I’m comfortable. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you echoed, still taking in the room with amazement. “I think this is ridiculous.”

She shrugged, a playful smirk playing on her lips. “Ridiculously awesome, you mean. Now, hurry up and change. We’ve got a whole island to explore.”

You wandered to the balcony, the sea breeze brushing against your skin. For the first time in weeks, there was a wave of relief in your heart. Your sister was right, this place is beautiful enough to cure depression.

First night in Mykonos, your sister took you as her plus one to an exclusive party. It was the kind of event you’d only ever seen in movies—swanky in every imaginable way. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above the ballroom, and servers in black and white uniforms roamed through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes. The guests were equally dazzling, dressed to the nines and carrying themselves with an effortless air of wealth and privilege.

“This is a lot,” you muttered under your breath as your sister handed you a glass of champagne.

“You’ll survive, I know it,” she said with a wink before leaning closer. “I’m about to go meet the investor. Try to enjoy yourself, okay? Mingle, sip your drink, and—”

“Don’t make bad decisions,” you finished for her, earning a laugh.

“Exactly. Have fun.” With that, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone to navigate the glittering hall.

You were still wondering how you’d accomplish her vague instructions when you felt the presence of another person beside you. Turning, you found Donghyuck leaning casually against the bar, his dark eyes unapologetically taking in the sight of you in your backless dress.

“I’ll be damned,” he drawled, smirking. “My princess herself, all the way here in Mykonos.”

“Donghyuck?” you asked, incredulous. 

“The one and only,” he lilted, gesturing to himself. “Once again, fate has brought us together.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Me?” He gestured to himself with mock surprise. “I’m swooping in before anyone else can claim you. At parties like these, competition is stiff for a trophy like you, you know?”

You frowned, your annoyance rising as you realized he wasn’t entirely wrong. A quick glance around confirmed what he’d said—more than a few sets of eyes were darting in your direction.

“I didn’t come here to be anyone’s ‘trophy’,” you shot back, taking a sip of your champagne to hide your unease.

Donghyuck tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Then why do you look like a trophy wife for these rich degenerates?”

Your jaw dropped, peering down at your outfit. “Do I really?”

He shrugged with a maddening nonchalance. “Depends on who’s looking.”

Before you could retort, he stepped closer, draping an arm over your shoulder with the ease of someone who didn’t care about boundaries. He guided your gaze around the room, pointing out different groups.

“To those men over there, you’re a trophy wife. To that table of twenty-somethings in designer suits, you’re an unfamiliar face so they’d assume you’re a model, and they’re imagining how great you’d look in their arms for a few weeks. Months, if you’re lucky. And that balding creep in the corner?” He chuckled darkly. “You’re a potential mistress in his eyes.”

You crossed your arms, bristling. “How insightful.”

“As for me…” He let his eyes roam the lines of your back, exposed by the dress, before meeting your gaze. “You’re whatever I want you to be. Pick me.”

“Pick you?” you scoffed, stepping out from under his arm. “I didn’t come here to ‘pick’ anyone, Lee Donghyuck. Save your sales talk for someone who’s interested.”

You turned to leave, but Donghyuck was faster, blocking your path with that infuriating grin still in place. In one smooth motion, he slid his arm around your waist, leaning in just enough to make your pulse stutter.

“It’s Haechan,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“What?”

“Haechan,” he repeated, extending a hand as if to formally introduce himself. “I’m not here as Lee Donghyuck.”

You swatted his hand away, narrowing your eyes. “What are you even talking about?”

“Identities are important, you know,” he said with a shrug. He reached up, brushing his fingers near your face, but you slapped his hand away.

“Get a grip, Hyuck,” you huffed, stepping around him.

“Your loss,” he called after you, lilting.

Without turning back, you raised a middle finger over your shoulder, earning a laugh from him that echoed behind you.

The swanky party was clearly not for you. You had lasted just long enough to grab a glass of champagne, exchange a few polite smiles, and endure Donghyuck’s insufferable antics before deciding you’d had enough. How his bum ass got invited to this party—or managed to come all the way to Mykonos was still beyond you, but it wasn’t worth your mental energy. You shoved him out of your thoughts and decided to make the most of the trip instead.

The next morning, you went to the hotel spa—quiet, luxurious, and promising some much-needed relaxation. After a soothing massage that left you feeling like a puddle of melted wax—in the best way—you headed to the sauna to unwind further. The warmth and the scent of eucalyptus welcomed you as you stepped through the door.

And then you froze.

There, in the dim light of the sauna, was Donghyuck. A girl in a hotel uniform straddled his lap, her lips pressed against his as his hands roamed freely. The sound of the door shutting behind you startled them apart. The girl scrambled off him, covering her face, as she darted past you without a word.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered. His gaze locked onto you, and a slow, predatory grin spread across his face. “Fancy meeting you here,” he drawled.

Your fingers tightened around the edge of your towel. “Seriously?”

“What?” He leaned back, completely at ease, the lines of his robe parting slightly to reveal the toned chest beneath. “You can’t blame a man for enjoying the amenities.”

“I should leave,” you muttered, but you stopped. Didn’t you just decide not to let him ruin your vacation? Well, you were gonna do just that, even if it meant sharing the space with him.

You took a seat as far away as possible, your back straight and your gaze fixed firmly ahead.

“You’re staying in this hotel too?” he asked, breaking the silence. “If this isn’t fate, then, I don’t know what else to call it.”

“I think you’re following me,” you shot back without looking at him.

He feigned a gasp. “Goodness, princess. I may be willing to lose a limb or two just to get a taste of that pussy, but I wouldn’t go as far as stalking.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the absurdity of his statement. Willing to lose a limb but wouldn’t do stalking? Does that even make sense? “Can we mind our own businesses?”

“Of course, of course,” he said with a shrug. “Don’t mind me.”

You were determined not to, but the sound of him shifting in his seat drew your attention. Your eyes darted to him before you could stop yourself. His hand was resting casually on his crotch, and though his robe concealed him, the motion of his fingers left no doubt about what he was doing.

“Donghyuck!” you hissed, mortified.

“What?” His tone was utterly unapologetic. “I told you not to mind me. But you’re welcome to help if you’re feeling generous.”

“You’re disgusting.”

He chuckled, unbothered by your insult. “Come on, princess. We both know you don’t mean that.”

“Ugh!” You grabbed your towel and stormed out of the sauna, your face burning, and annoyingly enough, it was not just from the heat.

Back in your suite, your sister looked up from her laptop, her brow furrowing at the sight of you. “What happened? You look pissed.”

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, heading straight for the bathroom.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” she called after you. “Did someone say something? Do I need to go talk to the staff?”

“No, it’s fine,” you insisted, shutting the door behind you.

You leaned against the sink, taking deep breaths as you tried to push the memory of Donghyuck’s shameless smirk from your mind. Moving to another hotel briefly crossed your mind, but you dismissed the idea. It was probably impossible anyway since you were not the one paying for your stay.

Still, as you splashed cold water on your face, his voice echoed in your ears, smooth and teasing. We both know you don’t mean that.

And that infuriating smirk lingered in your mind far longer than it should have.

You hadn’t meant to follow him. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you stepped out of the taxi in front of the sleek hotel, your heart pounding for reasons you refused to examine too closely.

“Lee Donghyuck!” you called out, your voice cutting through the night air.

He stopped just before the glass doors, turning with an infuriating slowness. The smirk on his face was triumphant as if he had been expecting you all along.

“There you are, love,” he asked, stepping back toward you. “Changed your mind?”

You folded your arms, trying to mask the nervous energy in your veins. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Too late for that,” he quipped, offering his hand for you to hold.

Inside, the lobby was grand, all marble and golden light. You stayed close to him as he guided you to the elevator, your resolve wavering with each step.

The ride up was silent at first. You stood side by side, watching your reflection in the mirror walls. You stole a glance at him—looking sharp despite his laidback outfit. His lips were slightly curved as though he could sense your gaze.

The seconds stretched unbearably long, you could almost swear the elevator had stopped. How long did it take to get to the 21st floor anyway?

“Are you always this patient?” he asked suddenly, his voice low and teasing.

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Instead of answering, Donghyuck moved, closing the gap between you. His gaze dropped to your lips, and before you could form a coherent thought, his hands were on your waist, and his mouth was crashing on yours.

It was hot and all-consuming. The tension that had been building all night exploded in that small elevator. Your back hit the cool wall as your lips moved hungrily against each other’s, his hands roaming as though he couldn’t decide where to touch you first.

As soon as you heard the soft ding of the elevator reaching your floor, Donghyuck pulled you with him into the hallway, his grip firm but not forceful. You didn’t even register the number of his suite as he unlocked the door, leading you inside.

The urgency didn’t fade. His jacket hit the floor, and his fingers found the zipper of your dress, tugging it down as he trailed kisses along your neck. Your breathing was ragged, your thoughts were a mess, until you felt his cold hands on your bare waist.

“Wait,” you exclaimed, your voice trembling as you stepped back.

Donghyuck paused immediately, looking at you with curious eyes. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t,” you blurted before you could stop yourself, hugging your arms around yourself. 

There was a glint of disappointment in his eyes, the usual confidence in his expression disappearing. For a moment, you both just stood there, the tension slowly fading away. Then, to your surprise, he smiled. Not the cocky grin he always wore, but something gentler.

“Alright,” he said, stepping back. He pulled the sheets from the bed, gently wrapping them around you. “You should stay. It’s too late to go home now.”

You blinked at him, unsure if he was serious or joking. But then he didn’t say anything and just walked to the door.

“Hyuck…” you called softly, still confused at the sudden turn of events. “You stay. I’ll just take a cab home.”

He looked over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “Sleep tight, princess.”

You jolted awake in your hotel bed, your breath coming fast. The sunlight streaming through the curtains was far too bright, too cheerful, for how you felt. You recognized the white walls, the furniture, and the comfortable bed you were laying on. Right, you were in Mykonos for a vacation.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, sitting up and running a hand through your hair.

Of all the things to dream about, it had to be the memory of that night. You had been so close to crossing a line, so dangerously close to giving in to something you weren’t sure you could come back from. And it annoyed you that the memory didn’t feel nearly as regretful as it should have.

“Get it together,” you told yourself, swinging your legs out of bed.

That morning, you joined your sister for sightseeing, determined to keep busy and push Donghyuck out of your head. The sun was high, casting a warm glow over Mykonos’ iconic white-washed buildings and cobalt blue accents. Your sister was giddy, snapping pictures and dragging you along to every Instagram-worthy spot.  At one point, you sat to rest on a bench overlooking the Aegean Sea, and then she sat down next to you, studying your face with a curious tilt of her head.

“I see the Greek charm isn’t growing on you yet,” she said, her voice lilting with teasing. “Still thinking about Jeno?”

The question caught you off guard, and you stared at her blankly. “What? No,” you said, the denial slipping out faster than you intended. You hadn’t thought about Jeno in days. Donghyuck had taken up all the space in your head, much to your dismay.

Your sister raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then why the long face?”

“I’m not—” you cut yourself off, sighing. “How do you even know about Jeno?”

“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I saw your posts. You never post guys, so of course, I had to stalk him. Did you know his social media is, like, painfully normal? He only has, like, four posts, and it’s all gym selfies. No wonder things didn’t work out.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You don’t even know half of it.”

“Well, I would’ve known if you told me,” she retorted, smirking. “Doesn’t matter. He’s old news. You’re here now. Why don’t you look around and find some hot European guy of Greek descent and have fun?”

“Pass,” you said firmly, shaking your head.

She gave you a side-eye, skeptical. “Seriously? You’re hopeless.”

Later that day, you found yourself lounging on a beautiful beach. The clear blue waters stretched endlessly before you, and the sound of waves was almost enough to lull you into a rare moment of peace. Almost.

That peace shattered the moment you spotted Donghyuck, casually draped over a sunbed at the nearby beach bar. His hair was tousled by the breeze, with a cocktail in one hand, and a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he ogled you.

He got up and strolled over with a confidence that was as irritating as it was magnetic. “Hi there,” he drawled, his gaze sweeping over your swimsuit. “We meet again.”

“You really have a knack for showing up where you’re not wanted, don’t you?” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

Donghyuck smirked, clearly enjoying your resistance. “Now, that’s not true. You are happy to see me. And if you’re not, well,” he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping, “I can change that.”

You huffed. “What do you want, Donghyuck?”

“Just to extend an invitation,” he said, stepping back and spreading his arms dramatically. “There’s a yacht party later. Lots of drinks, music, and, well, other fun stuff. You should come. It’s not every day you get to live the life of the rich and questionable.”

The invitation was tempting, as much as you hated to admit it. A sunset yacht party did sound incredible, but the idea of spending more time around Donghyuck made you hesitate. “Why would I trust you not to make it unbearable?”

He tilted his head, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I like to go with the flow. See where it takes me.”

“Which means you’re not going to behave.”

“Depends on what you mean by behave,” he said, his tone teasing but his gaze intent. “So, what do you say? Risk it?”

You hesitated, knowing you should say no, but curiosity and excitement got the better of you. “Fine,” you said at last. “But play nice, or I’m leaving.”

Donghyuck chuckled, looking far too pleased with himself. “I can try.”

Later that evening, you were in your suite, pacing the room impatiently. The dress you’d chosen—a sleek, simple maroon mini dress with an open back and thin straps—was something you’d usually wear, but for some reason, you felt a little exposed in it. Your sister told you it was nice, despite its simplicity, but before she left for her dinner appointment, she suggested you change into something nicer.

You already felt naked as it is. There was no way you’d change into something more skimpy. You glanced at the clock. There was still time to back out. It’s not like Donghyuck would care if you didn’t show up. You could just crawl into bed and—

A few knocks at the door made you freeze. You weren’t expecting anyone, but you kind of had an idea who was on the other side of the door. Slowly, you walked over and opened it, only to find Donghyuck leaning against the doorframe. He looked annoyingly good in a loose black linen shirt and tailored trousers, his hair falling just right. He gave you a slow once-over, and his lips curved into that familiar smirk.

“Wow,” he said, his voice laced with teasing approval. “You really never disappoint.”

“Why are you here?” you asked, crossing your arms to hide the fact that his gaze had flustered you.

“Why am I here?” He pushed off the doorframe, standing a little too close. “I’m here to pick you up, that’s why. You didn’t think I’d let you walk down to the dock alone, did you?”

“I was actually thinking of canceling,” you admitted, stepping back as he strolled into the room uninvited.

“Too late. I’m here now, so you’re coming,” he said confidently, glancing around the suite before turning his attention back to you. He flashed a wicked grin. “Or if you want, we can just stay and have a good time. Just the two of us.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him to grab your clutch from the desk. “Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

The streets of Mykonos were lively with a crowd of tourists enjoying the island’s nightlife. You and Donghyuck walked side by side, his hands tucked casually into his pockets while you held onto your clutch like it was a lifeline.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone light but probing.

“Why would I be nervous?” you shot back, a little too quickly.

He hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You’re gripping that bag like you’re ready to hit someone with it. You’ll have fun, trust me.”

“I don’t trust your idea of fun,” you muttered, earning a chuckle from him.

“You wound me, princess,” he said, feigning hurt. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll keep it PG tonight.”

You side-eyed him. “For some reason, I doubt that.”

“Smart girl,” he quipped, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “You know me so well.”

Donghyuck held your elbow, urging you to stop walking. You looked up at the sleek yacht before you, proud and majestic with the unmistakable sound of party music coming from it. You were both nervous and thrilled, your dress feeling slightly too casual and too much all at once. Donghyuck, on the other hand, looked completely at ease in his casual outfit, the top buttons of his shirt undone just enough to be enticing.

“Stop fidgeting,” he teased, watching as you adjusted your dress for what must have been the tenth time. “You look stunning. Besides,” he smirked, holding out a hand to help you climb aboard, “if anyone says otherwise, I’ll personally throw them overboard.”

Rolling your eyes, you took his hand and let him guide you up the gangway. His hand rested lightly on your lower back as he steered you through a maze of well-dressed guests. The yacht was packed with people who oozed wealth and influence—designer outfits, champagne flutes in hand, laughter echoing over as the boat swayed gently in the water.

“Welcome to the world of spoiled brats and trust fund babies,” Donghyuck said, leaning close so only you could hear.

“Really?” you replied, scoffing at the obvious snark in his tone.

He tilted his head toward a man talking to a small group. “That guy’s been disinherited twice and keeps crawling back. The woman next to him? Reality TV star. That one there has a ‘tech start-up’ which was an obvious cover for something much less legal.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How do you even know all this?”

He grinned. “I have friends in high places.”

Before you could respond, a loud voice cut through the crowd. “Haechan Lee! Is that you, mate?” A tall, blonde man with a British accent bounded over, pulling Donghyuck into a bear hug.

Haechan Lee. The name echoed in your mind, unfamiliar and jarring.

Another man joined them, clapping Donghyuck on the back. “Haechan! Fucking finally, man! It’s been too long!” said another.

You stared, trying to piece it together. You’d only ever known him as Donghyuck, and so had everyone else back at university. Does he actually have a different name? Was this some kind of alter ego? Or could it be a rich-people thing—having multiple names for different aspects of their lives?

Now that you thought about it, was Donghyuck rich?

Looking at him now, standing in the midst of wealth and luxury, he seemed to fit in effortlessly. His charm and the way he mirrored the polished demeanor of everyone else here—everything about him looked the part. But you’d known him since freshman year and you knew he had been living with Mark Lee, possibly mooching off of him like a homeless man. He even got kicked out last semester and had to sleep in the library for days.

Your train of thought broke when the blonde man turned to you, flashing a grin. “Now, brother,” he began, his gaze sweeping over you with polite curiosity, “won’t you introduce us to your lovely date?”

“Please tell me she’s not some pretty lady you randomly picked up on your way here?” the other friend chimed in, his tone light, though the comment struck a nerve.

You raised an eyebrow, slightly offended although there was no hint of insult in his question. Donghyuck’s hand found your waist.

“Ah, of course,” he said smoothly, his gaze flitting toward you. He introduced you by name, his voice carrying a subtle possessive hint. “She’s a very good friend from university.”

The British man extended his hand. “Harvey. Pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Luca,” the other one added, shaking hands with you as well. “I’m hosting this little gathering.”

Little gathering? You echoed in your mind, looking around said gathering which was nowhere near ‘little’ at all.

“Nice to meet you. It’s a lovely party,” you chimed, saying whatever comes to your mind just to be polite.

Luca smirked, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Lovely is one way to put it.” He gestured around the deck. “Give it an hour, and let me know if you still think it’s lovely by then.” He winked at you before being pulled away by someone from the crowd. Harvey got swept away too.

“Okay,” you said, glancing at Donghyuck. “What does he mean by that?”

Donghyuck shrugged, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You’ll see. Come on, let’s get something to drink.”

He led you further into the party, weaving effortlessly through the crowd as if he belonged there. His hand remained on your back, a touch that felt both reassuring and entirely too intimate. He introduced you to several other people. You shook hands with a couple of young entrepreneurs, exchanged polite smiles with a famous model, and even shared a laugh with an actor you’d seen from a popular Netflix series. Each introduction was seamless, and each of them seemed like they genuinely knew who Donghyuck was.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” he said, sipping champagne as the two of you moved to a quieter corner of the deck.

“At what?”

“Schmoozing,” he replied, gesturing toward the crowd.

You shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it schmoozing. Just... reading the room and playing the part.”

“And what part is that?”

You grinned teasingly. The alcohol you’d been drinking all evening had made you loosen up a little. “Haechan’s lovely date.”

Donghyuck’s lips curled into a boyish grin that was equal parts charm and mischief. He stepped closer, his hand finding your waist again as he leaned in slightly. “They’re not wrong. You are very lovely. What do you say, we go and check out the lower deck? Luca promised me my own cabin for tonight, you see.”

You rolled your eyes, gently pushing him back. “Come on, Hyuck. You can at least try to be subtle about it.”

He chuckled, unabashed. “Nah. Subtle or not, you’d still say no.”

“You knew that and yet, you never get tired of asking,” you teased, side-eyeing him as you turned on your heel, leaving him to follow in your wake.

Behind you, Donghyuck chuckled softly, and even without looking, you knew damn well that he was smirking and ogling you from behind.

You tried to resist the pull of his charm, keeping your responses to his flirting curt, sharp, or sarcastic. But Donghyuck had a way of disarming you, his persistence wearing down your defenses one witty remark at a time. His fingers lingered on yours each time he passed you a glass of champagne. And his teasing seamlessly turned into genuine compliments that made you glance away just to hide the faint smile tugging at your lips.

“You’ll fall for me eventually,” he teased, catching your elbow when you almost lost your footing on an uneven plane. “I think you should slow down.”

“Are you kidding me? There is an unlimited amount of Dom Perignon just within reach and you want me to slow down?” you quipped, grinning playfully.

“I feel like you’re only here for the drinks,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

That made you cock an eyebrow at him. “You said there’d be drinks and food. That’s why I’m here.”

Donghyuck feigning a pained expression. “And here I thought you came to spend quality time with me. My poor fragile heart.”

You laughed a tad too loosely, throwing your head back as you held onto his arm to keep yourself steady. He laughed too, nice and unguarded, but then your gaze met his, and something about the way he looked at you made your breath catch for just a moment.

Clearing your throat, you straightened up and set your glass aside. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m laughing at something you said,” you murmured. “I must be drunk.”

“It’s okay to admit that I’m charming and sexy, princess.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Sexy? Where did that come from?” you quipped, shaking your head but unable to fully ignore the warmth creeping up your neck.

The party’s atmosphere had shifted. The laughter around you was louder, the dancing more uninhibited. Couples huddled close, their kisses and touches bolder under the dim lights. In every corner of the deck, groups lounged on plush seats, passing around vapes with glowing tips and tiny glass bottles you quickly recognized as poppers. People on the dance floor danced with carefree, euphoric movements suggesting the effects of something stronger than alcohol.

Your stomach twisted. It wasn’t unexpected. Wild, exclusive yacht parties like this were known for their hedonistic nature. But seeing it firsthand was still unsettling.

Donghyuck caught your change in demeanor instantly. He leaned down, voice low but teasing. “Am I to assume this is your first time seeing rich kids go off the rails?”

“Not at all. I go to swanky yacht parties every weekend. This is nothing,” you deadpanned.

He laughed just as a guy approached, holding out a slim vape, a small pill, and a bottle of poppers. His grin was loose, his pupils wide—already several levels deep into whatever he was offering.

Donghyuck waved him off with an easy smile. “Not tonight. Tryna stay sober.”

The guy shrugged and moved on, but not before turning to you with the same offer. You hesitated, your curiosity gnawing at you, but Donghyuck’s hand was resting on your back protectively.

“You don’t need to indulge these people,” he whispered in your ear. “It would be better if you didn’t try any of that tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “Since when do you get to tell me what to do?”

“I’m not telling you what to do,” he replied, his smirk matching yours. “Just saying, you wouldn’t want your first time getting high to be on a yacht full of strangers.”

You tilted your head, feigning curiosity. “What makes you think this would be my first time?”

He studied you for a moment, his smile softening. “Just a hunch.”

Before you could retort, Luca appeared between you, his presence sudden and disorienting. He threw an arm around both your shoulders, and you caught a whiff of the faint scent of champagne and something sharper clinging to him. His pupils were wide, and his grin was crooked and lazy.

“Still think this party’s lovely?” he slurred, glancing between you and Donghyuck.

You shot Donghyuck a look, but he only raised an amused eyebrow, his hand steadying you against Luca’s weight.

Luca grinned wider, extending a hand—offering you a small pill. “How about a little something to really enjoy it?”

You glanced down at the pill in Luca’s outstretched hand, then back up at his expectant face.

“I’m good,” you said, waving him off with a smile.

Luca huffed dramatically, slipping the pill back into his pocket. “You two are so boring.” Then, with an exaggerated stumble, he turned to a nearby group, seamlessly inserting himself into their little party within the party.

Donghyuck glanced down at you, his smile smoldering as his hand subtly tightened around your waist. “Good girl,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know. I’m just saying, it’s a good choice,” he replied, patting your head. “I do some of that stuff too. But, you have to be in the right state of mind to enjoy it.”

“I see. Thanks for the input,” you said, though it came out a little sarcastic.

Donghyuck chuckled, tugging you closer as he leaned into your ear. “Tell you what—how about we ditch the party for a bit? You, me, a quiet cabin, and maybe… just a little more champagne?”

You gave him a sideways glance. “You really can’t be subtle, can you?”

Donghyuck shrugged, completely unapologetic. “Why be subtle when you’ve already made it clear I’ve got your attention?”

Your eyes fluttered to his lips, so close that if you moved an inch, you’d definitely kiss. How nice would that be? You knew damn well that he was a really good kisser.

The image of you kissing him flickered in your mind, jolting you back to sobriety. You pushed him away gently, maintaining the teasing tension between you despite the sudden surge of embarrassment. 

“Nice try. But I’m not here for whatever you’re selling.”

He leaned back slightly, still grinning. “You sure about that? ‘Cause I’m feeling like you’re just one more drink away from saying yes.”

“Don’t count on it,” you replied, shaking your head with a mock-serious expression.

Donghyuck’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Ah, the classic ‘don’t count on it.’ The universal no with a little bit of yes mixed in it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time, then?”

You couldn’t help but smirk back, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. “Maybe,” you said.

You were both laughing with a group of his friends swarmed in, their energy louder than the music.

“Haechan, let’s go!” one of them shouted, grabbing his wrist. “We need you for a shot roulette.”

“I’m in the middle of something,” Donghyuck protested, his hand brushing yours in the motion.

“Oh, come on,” another whined, already pulling him away. “It’s tradition.”

He turned back to you, grinning. “You coming?”

You shook your head. “I’m good. Go be a menace somewhere else.”

He grinned, squeezing your wrist before he let them drag him away. “Don’t get too lonely without me.”

You rolled your eyes, watching as he disappeared into the crowd.

Alone now, you took a deep breath, scanning the party with fresh eyes. The energy had thickened with the haze of something heavier than champagne. You wandered aimlessly for a while, letting the party wash over you, until your gaze landed on a familiar figure in a loose circle of people near the edge of the deck.

It was Luca. He caught your eye instantly, grinning as he lifted a hand and beckoned you over.

The reasonable part of you told you to turn around, to find Donghyuck or just enjoy the rest of the night without venturing too far into unfamiliar territory. But curiosity tugged at you, insistent and tempting.

Luca raised an eyebrow, waving a slim vape between his fingers. It wasn’t like a pill, wasn’t like the tiny bottles of poppers you’d seen passed around earlier. It was just a vape. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you stepped forward.

Luca’s grin widened as you joined the circle. “Look who finally decided to live a little.”

Someone handed you the vape, its tip glowing faintly in the dim light. You turned it between your fingers, your heart starting to beat a little faster.

Then, before you could change your mind, you lifted it to your lips and took a hit. The taste was sweeter than you expected, a smooth burn trailing down your throat before settling in your lungs. You exhaled slowly, watching the vapor float into the night air.

Luca chuckled, leaning in. “Not so boring after all.”

Hanging out with them was far better than you were expecting. Maybe it was the warmth of the night, or the wholesome laughter rippling through the circle. Maybe it was the THC threading its way through your bloodstream, making everything feel just a little lighter. Either way, you found yourself enjoying their company.

They were less obnoxious than you’d assumed and more entertaining than you’d expected. They cracked jokes, gossiped about people you didn’t know, and shared wild stories about past parties.

At some point, the topic drifted to Donghyuck.

“He’s usually the life of the party,” someone said, taking a slow drag. “Kind of weird seeing him so… tame.”

Luca smirked. “Yeah. Makes sense that he’s more focused on her than us, though.”

You frowned. “Why’s that?”

He gave you a knowing look. “Because you’re not like the rest of us.”

You weren’t sure what to make of that. But before you could dwell on it, the high started creeping further in, smoothing over your thoughts. Your giggles came easier, the music felt richer, and your body moved to it more fluidly.

You swayed to the beat, your limbs loose and weightless. The world blurred just enough to make everything feel softer, dreamier. That’s when you felt fingertips tracing over your thigh.

You turned your head, locking eyes with a girl beside you. She was pretty. Glowing in the low lighting, with her dark sleek hair, and her lips parted in a knowing smile. Her touch was featherlight, uncertain but confident, while her eyes were holding yours as if waiting for a reaction. And in your hazy, heady state, you recognized the look in them—bold, inviting.

She leaned in, her breath warm against your cheek, and you felt yourself tilting forward, drawn into the moment and into her. 

But just as your lips were about to meet, a hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. You barely had time to process it before you were being pulled back, yanked out of the circle with a force that snapped you out of your haze.

Your head spun as you stumbled slightly, catching yourself against Donghyuck’s firm chest. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he said in a low but sharp voice. He kept his grip steady, with an unreadable expression as he looked down at you.

The world felt like it tilted slightly under your feet, the high still buzzing in your veins. You blinked up at him, dazed, confused. Donghyuck exhaled sharply and pulled you through the crowd, past drunken laughter and swaying bodies, until the noise faded gradually. He pushed open a cabin door and led you inside, closing it behind him with more force than necessary.

“Are you out of your mind?” he demanded with a sharp voice, cutting through the haze in your head. “You don’t just get high with people you barely know!”

You scoffed, barely processing his words. “Why do you care?” Your voice came out slurred with irritation. “Who are you to drag me away like you have a fucking say in what I do?”

Donghyuck exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. “Jesus, you’re impossible.”

You caught the way his jaw clenched, the way his lips parted mid-breath, the way frustration sharpened his features in a way that made your stomach flutter. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the vape. Maybe it was the way he looked at you; exasperated, unyielding, so stupidly attractive it made your head spin for a completely different reason.

Before you could think, you grabbed onto his shirt, yanking him down as you crashed your lips into his.

His back hit the door with a thud, freezing for a split second. Then his hands found your waist, and his lips parted under yours.

Then he kissed you back—hard, reckless, like he’d been waiting for this as much as you had. You had no idea where you strength was coming from, but you managed to haul him from the door to the bed, pinning him down and trapping his arms on the mattress.

He smirked under your gaze, shaking his head. “Let’s not do this right now.”

You tilted your head, batting your eyelashes as you leaned down to kiss his jaw. “Why not?”

You let go of his hands and started unbuttoning his shirt. Donghyuck let out a breathy chuckle, catching your wrists before you could strip him out of his shirt.

“Princess,” he drawled, reaching for your cheek and kissing the side of your head. “Calm down.”

“Why?” you whined, scowling in irritation.

He planted a soft kiss on your lips and said, “Let’s not do this tonight.”

“Why?” you pressed, getting more impatient now. “I thought you wanted me?” 

His grip on you tightened. He did. God, he did. More than he’d ever wanted anyone before. But now that he was here, trapped between your legs, he couldn’t seem to make a move on you. “You’re drunk and high.” 

“I know what I’m doing,” you scoffed, slapping his hands away and tugging his shirt off. You lowered your lips to his neck, letting your kisses trail down to his collarbone and chest.

Donghyuck groaned, running a hand down his face. “Hah, I’ll be damned.”

You raised your head to look at him, pouting. “Just stay with me,” you lilted, reaching for his cheek and leaning to kiss him but he avoided it, looking away as he took your hands off his face.

“Come on. I’ll take you back to the hotel,” he insisted, sitting up.

“No!” You jumped off his lap, running to the back of the cabin.

With a sigh, Donghyuck shook his head, only to freeze in place when he saw you unzipping your dress. The silky fabric pooled at your feet. Then, with zero hesitation, your underwear followed. You stood there, completely bare, eyes bright with mischief.

“Come on, Haechan,” you called out, opening your arms wide. “No one is tearing a limb off of you. So come have a taste of this.”

Donghyuck clenched his fists. Then unclenched them. He had no idea whether to groan in frustration or throw his head back and laugh.

Instead, he crossed the room in long strides, grabbing you by the waist and crashing his lips to yours. The heat between you reignited in an instant, your fingers tangling in his hair, his hands gripping your bare hips like he might lose his mind if he didn’t touch you.

But then he pulled back and annoyance surge through you again. Your breath was heavy, lips swollen as you snapped, “What is it this time?” 

Donghyuck exhaled sharply, dark eyes boring through you. “Tell me you won’t regret it.”

“I won’t,” you replied without missing a beat.

His face visibly relaxed, the flamboyant smirk finally returning. “Good,” he said before he kissed you with an intensity that stole the breath out of your lungs.

You woke up to a dull headache and an aching clarity about the night before. The memories washed over you like a cold bucket of water. You blinked, trying to recognize the room. You could feel Donghyuck warmly pressed against your back.

You were naked. So was he. You didn’t need to rack your brain to recall everything, you were sure something had happened between you. You remembered initiating it but everything after that was a blur of kisses and an intoxicating high.

Carefully, you slipped out from under the covers, scanning the room for your clothes. Your dress was crumpled on the floor but your underwear was nowhere in sight. Great.

“Come back to bed,” Donghyuck murmured, his voice thick and slurred with sleep.

Before you could protest, he caught you by the waist and tugged you back down. You landed with a small bounce, his arms securing around you like he had no intention of letting go.

“I’m not some awful one-night stand,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “Don’t treat me like one.”

Your cheeks warmed. “I wasn’t.”

He hummed, burying his face into the crook of your neck. The brush of his lips against your skin, accidental or not, sent a nice shiver down your spine. “Are you regretting it?” he asked.

You swallowed. “No.” A pause. “I mean… I basically begged you for it, so no. I don’t…”

Donghyuck shifted behind you, pressing even closer. The heat of him was overwhelming, his skin smooth where it brushed yours. You tried to ignore it, but it was hard not to melt in his warmth.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “That’s new. You're apologizing.” You turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of him. “You’re not exactly the type.”

He exhaled. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

You hesitated. “Don’t be. Like I said, I asked for it. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”

Donghyuck scoffed in amusement before propping himself up on one elbow, peering down at you with a smirk. His dark eyes flickered with mischief. “You don’t remember anything at all, do you?”

You scoffed defensively, turning your head slightly. “I do. Duh. I don’t black out when I drink.”

He chuckled, his amusement only making you more uneasy. “Where are we right now?”

“In the yacht…” you trailed off, looking around only to realize you were in a spacious suite, with sunlight streaming in from the balcony doors.

“You didn’t black out, princess,” Donghyuck prompted, chuckling. “You fell asleep.”

You stiffened. “What?”

“You begged for this dick and knocked out right when I was about to give it to you.”

Your eyes widened. “WHAT?”

Donghyuck snickered, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Didn’t think you were the snoring type.”

Your mortification doubled. “I don’t snore!”

“How would you know?”

“How would I not know?”

He only grinned, flopping back against the pillows. “Why don’t you stay a little longer and I’ll tell you all about it?”

Before you could wriggle away, he pulled you in tighter, his grip warm and firm, lips dangerously close to your ear.

You stayed like that for a while, tangled in the sheets, wrapped in his warmth. The slow rise and fall of his chest against your back was almost lulling, the quiet morning stretching between you.

“How did we…” you paused, hesitating. “When did we leave the yacht?”

“I brought you here after you passed out.”

“Did we really not do it?” you asked again, voice softer this time.

Donghyuck groaned. “Stop. I’m already annoyed about it as it is.”

You bit back a laugh, twisting in his arms until you were facing him. His eyes were still close, but your movement made him crack one open, dark and heavy with sleep as they locked onto yours.

You tilted your head slightly. “How about doing it now?”

That seemed to wake him up in an instant. His eyes dragged over your face, lingering on your lips as his signature smirk appeared. “I know I’m irresistible, but I didn’t think you’d become this desperate for me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

Then you kissed him. Donghyuck didn’t even hesitate, flipping you onto your back as he deepened it, his hands already sliding down your sides, warm and possessive. 

Somewhere between breaths, he pulled away just enough to murmur against your lips, “Just a warning. I’m not very gentle.”

You smirked, fingers twisting into his hair. “Promises.”

“Oh,” he chimed, impressed. “I’ll take that as a challenge,” he added, chuckling as he dipped to kiss you again.

His laughter melted into the kiss, deep and rich, like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. And knowing Donghyuck, he was. He loved this, he’d wanted this for so long. Now he’s teasing, pushing and pulling, all while enjoying the way your breath hitched when he touched you just right.

His hands roamed freely, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, then lower, pressing into your inner thigh but not touching it just yet. His lips explored the sensitive parts of your ear, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. Each kiss left an imprint that would not only brand your skin, but would most definitely leave a mark on your soul too. Every movement felt like he was testing, learning exactly how to unravel you.

“You’re quiet,” he mused. His eyes, dark and half-lidded, swept over your face like he was savoring every little flicker of emotion you were making. “Second thoughts?”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be unbothered. “No.”

His smirk deepened. “Then what’s got you so shy?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but his fingers teased at your sex, sliding up once, just enough to make you shiver in anticipation and need.

He was waiting. He wanted you to squirm first.

You swallowed, pulse racing faster as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I’m not—”

Donghyuck hummed, cutting you off as he firmly pressed against your clit. “You sure?”

His fingers pressed harder, his eyes glimmering as he watched the way your breath hitched. “So bold and sexy when you ask for it, but the second I touch you, you get all shy on me.” His finger traced your folds, making you bite your lips to stifle a gasp. “It’s cute.”

You scoffed, trying to look unaffected despite the desire that was starting to engulf you. “You talk too much.”

He grinned. “And yet you keep kissing me.”

To prove his point, he leaned in again, capturing your lips. He kissed you like he wanted you breathless, like he wanted to hear every little sound you made. You barely had time to think before he shifted, pressing closer, the heat of him sinking into your skin.

Donghyuck’s hand slid to your thigh, all the way back to your cunt, his thumb stroking absently over it once he’d cupped it. He didn’t rush—just watched you, waiting, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

Your breath came uneven as you held his gaze. “Lee Donghyuck, I swear to god, if you keep this up, I’ll—”

His lips were on yours before you could finish, swallowing your words with a deep, satisfied hum. And just like that, you lost yourself to him again. His fingers toyed with your sex—pressing, pinching, going in and out with the precision of someone adept at this kind of thing. You couldn’t even let out a sound with his lips ravaging yours.

“Ready, princess?” he whispered in your ear, and you hadn’t even fully processed it yet when you felt the sharp, unmistakable sensation of his manhood sliding into you.

You gasped loudly, surprised in the best way. You could feel it—all of it, in its entirety—the delightful stretch, the tingles spreading through your nerves and awakening your entire being.

Your nails dragged lightly up his spine, just enough to make him shiver. His response was surprising—a sharp inhale, the slight flex of his dick inside you. You realized then that he wasn’t as composed as he appeared to be, with his brows twitching ever so slightly as he eased himself into you.

“Hyuck,” you breathed, searching his face.

Donghyuck forced a laugh, leaning down to kiss you again. “I knew it,” he said against your lips, grinning. 

“Knew what?” you whispered back, your breath hitching when he rutted his hips slowly.

“It’s so much better than in my head.” His weight pressed you into the mattress, one hand braced beside your head, and the other keeping your legs open. He was everywhere—his scent, his heat, the drag of his hips against yours. There was nothing careful about it, nothing soft.

At some point, the stimulation got so overwhelming that you had to push him back in a futile attempt to regain control of your own body.

“Relax,” Donghyuck whispered, his voice like velvet. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, sending a shiver down your spine. “You asked for this, didn’t you?”

You swallowed hard, unable to look at him, but he wasn’t having that. He caught your chin, tilting your face toward him. His eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, filled with something that made your cunt clench against him.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he teased. His lips curved into a smirk as he felt the way your body tensed at his words. “What happened, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?”

You exhaled shakily. “Shut up.”

A low chuckle. “Not a chance.” He moved his hips again, thrusts both slow and heavy, like he was savoring every reaction he pulled from you. 

You exhaled sharply, covering your mouth to stop yourself from moaning. Donghyuck took your hands and held them tightly, pressing them on the mattress above your head.

“Don’t be shy, love. Let’s hear you sing,” he lilted, ramming harder and faster, making you moan and whimper louder. “I like hearing you like this. All breathless. All mine.”

You were reeling, spiraling deeper down into the vice of his cock. Each thrust was sending so much pleasure through your body that you feared you’d levitate—you actually thought you would if you don’t hold onto something, anything.

But when you tried to free your hands from his grip, Donghyuck only tightened his hold until your wrists started to hurt. And even the pain of being restrained was delightful, sending you further up the clouds and turning you into a mumbling, whimpering, moaning mess.

“Look at you,” he murmured, gaze dragging over your face, down to your parted lips. “So fucking beautiful.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more dangerous. “You like this, don’t you?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, but the way your body arched into his and your hips bucked for more said enough.

“Yeah,” he hummed in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought,” he added, shifting his pace from fast to languid, and then faster again with heavy thrusts that made the bed shake.

“Hyuck,” you breathed out, mouth gaping open and your eyes rolling back.

He laughed, low and smug, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Then, just to be a menace, he stopped, pulling back slightly to watch you squirm. His fingers played with your nipple, and he focused on your neck for a moment, sucking and smooching while his hand kneaded your boob. It was pleasant in itself, but you couldn’t ignore the obvious emptiness between your legs.

“Donghyuck, put it back inside,” you whined, your voice both pleading and annoyed.

Donghyuck chuckled darkly. “You’re so impatient.”

“And you’re—” You sucked in a breath as he pushed his dick back into you. You glared. He was enjoying this way too much—watching you melt under him, forcing you to beg him for it.

So you did the only thing you could do. You tugged your hands free and kissed him hard, knocking him off balance just enough to flip him onto his back. He let out a surprised grunt, but the shock barely lasted a second before he was grinning up at you, hands already sliding down your thighs as you straddled his hips.

“That’s cute,” he mused, fingers pressing into your skin. “Taking control like the bold woman that you are.”

Your nails dragged down his chest, slow and teasing. “You don’t like that?”

“Me? Oh, I love that,” he replied, his hands flexed on your thighs. “Show me what you’re made of, princess."

Your breath caught. He dared you to. “I hate when you call me that,” you smirked, moving your hips slowly, steadily, his dick filling you up deliciously.

You leaned down, letting your lips graze his jaw, his throat, tasting the heat of his skin. His pulse was steady beneath your lips, but when you bounced your hips against his, his breath would hitch, fingers tightening against your hips.

Then, in an instant, he moved. A sharp gasp left you as he flipped you back onto the mattress, pinning you beneath him once more. The room spun for half a second, and then he was there again, hovering over you, lips curved in that annoyingly attractive smirk.

“Cute,” he murmured. “But not today, princess. I’ll let you have your fun next time.”

He kissed you then, slow and deep, as if he had all the time in the world to ruin you. His words didn’t stop, not even between breaths, not even when his thrusts became erratic and relentless, setting every nerve in your body on fire.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, lips grazing the corner of your mouth. “So fucking perfect.”

Every touch, every word pulled you deeper under his spell. He was guiding you, coaxing you, drawing out every little reaction like he was trying to study and remember them.

And when your breath hitched, when your body trembled from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it all, he smiled against your skin. It was sudden and dizzying, like losing control and finding it at the same time. Your muscles tensed, hands clawing at his shoulders desperately.

“That’s it,” he whispered, biting your ear. “Let it go, princess. Don’t be shy.”

He rammed harder and faster, riding your high while chasing his own. You lost control of your own voice, screaming and moaning out his name as he drove you further to the edge.

Just as you felt like you’d lose your mind from the intensity of it all, the world suddenly stopped spinning. Donghyuck fell on top of you, his weight slowly bringing you back to your senses. For a moment there was only the sound of breathing and groaning, both of you still a little lost in the haze of what had just happened.

Then Donghyuck spoke. “How was that?”

You scoffed, pushing him off of you. Donghyuck let himself fall on the bed beside you, watching you with a satisfied smirk on his face. He looked tired, and oddly attractive, with his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and that ever-present smirk on his lips.

He reached to push the stray hairs out of your face, gathering them in his fingers and bringing them to his nose. “You’re pretty like this.”

Heat flared in your cheeks, and Donghyuck noticed because of course, he did. His grin turned wicked. “You blushing?”

“No.”

He hummed, thoroughly unconvinced as he leaned in and brushed his lips against your ear. “Liar.”

A shiver ran down your spine, and he felt it, because he laughed again—soft, smug, entirely too pleased with himself. “It’s okay. I think it’s cute.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so—”

“Charming? Handsome? Completely irresistible? Incredibly good in bed?” You glared at him, and he just grinned, tilting his head. “If you have a complaint, I’m all ears.”

He was impossible. But he was also looking at you like he wanted you, like he needed you, and you had never felt so dizzy off someone’s attention before.

You huffed. “Just—kiss me again.”

Donghyuck let out a satisfied breath. “As you wish,” he murmured, and then he did.

It was almost noon when you stirred awake, still in Donghyuck’s suite, still sore from the morning’s events. The space beside you was cold, and the sheets rumpled, but you didn’t have time to wonder where he’d gone before the balcony door swung open.

Donghyuck stepped inside, looking annoyingly fresh—showered, well-dressed, sunglasses perched on his nose. He spotted you sitting up and grinned.

“You’re up?” He pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them onto a nearby chair. “Good. Let’s get you dressed and ready.”

You blinked at him, still groggy. He strolled over, settling onto the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other. His gaze roamed over you with something like admiration, but mostly smug satisfaction. “I’m taking you out. Exploring, shopping, some fun.”

“Why?” you mumbled, leaning against his chest, still half-asleep.

Donghyuck chuckled, brushing a hand down your back. “To reward you, of course.”

Your brows furrowed, but you didn’t pull away just yet. “For what?”

He tilted his head, grinning. “That pussy was immaculate. I consider it a great honor to have experienced it, so you deserve a treat.”

You snapped upright and glared at him. “You’re treating me because I had sex with you?”

He nodded, completely unbothered. “Yeah. Why?”

“Don’t you think that’s objectifying me a little too much?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “So?”

Your mouth fell open. “So?”

Donghyuck laughed, amused by your outrage. “Listen, princess. If you’re expecting me to say I love you after what happened this morning, don’t count on it. That might’ve worked for you before, but I don’t give my heart out that easily.”

Your irritation flared into something hotter. “What? That’s not even—” You cut yourself off with an exasperated exhale before grabbing the nearest pillow and hurling it at him. “Get the fuck out.”

His grin widened. “This is my room.”

You shot to your feet. “Then I’ll get the fuck out.”

Before you could storm off, Donghyuck caught your waist and pulled you back onto the bed, pressing you into the mattress with a slow, deliberate kiss. It was deep, teasing, like he was daring you to stay mad at him. When he pulled away, he was smirking again, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.

“If you don’t want to go,” he murmured, “just say so. We can stay here, and I can repay you in other ways.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, thank you. My legs are weak and I have no energy.”

He hummed, tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin. “Then I guess we’re going shopping.”

That was it. You shoved him off you, sitting up with a scowl. “I’m not some whore who needs to be paid, Hyuck.”

The words left your mouth before you could soften them, but you didn’t regret them. You stood up, grabbing your dress and purse from the floor, before reaching for the robe you’d left in the bathroom.

Donghyuck sat up, confusion flickering across his face. “Hey, come on now, princess. I didn’t say you were.”

“Then stop with this repayment bullshit and leave me alone,” you snapped.

For a moment, he just stared at you, completely caught off guard. You held his gaze, sharp and unwavering, before turning on your heel and storming toward the door. Even as he called after you, you didn’t look back. The door slammed shut behind you.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the sharpness in your eyes not faltering while he looked genuinely shocked by the turn of events. With a huff, you walked toward the door, not sparing him a glance even as he called after you. You slammed the door shut in his face and let out a sigh.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath, exhaling sharply as you made your way back to your suite.

Your sister had just stepped out of the shower when you walked in. She took one look at your expression—the furrowed brows, the lingering frustration—and blinked.

“Did something happen?”

You ran a hand through your hair. “You’re not gonna ask where I was last night?”

“I knew you went to a yacht party.”

“Yeah, and I’m coming back just now.”

She shrugged, grabbing some clothes from the closet. “You texted me this morning, didn’t you?”

Right. You had. Just a quick I’m fine. Safe.

“What happened?” she asked, glancing at you. “Was he a jerk?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Yeah. A big one.”

You didn’t tell your sister much about what happened, and thankfully, she didn’t press. She seemed to understand, offering only a knowing glance before changing the subject.

“Come have lunch with us. The person I came here to meet,” she clarified, checking her phone. “Lee Taeyong. He’s the one I’ve been negotiating with.”

You didn’t have much of an appetite, but sitting alone in your room didn’t sound appealing either. So you agreed.

The restaurant was upscale but relaxed, with a bright open-air terrace overlooking the ocean. The salty breeze and chatter of well-dressed patrons made the atmosphere feel light despite the heaviness still lingering in your chest. That was where you met Lee Taeyong.

You’d expected an older man, maybe middle-aged with graying hair and a sharp suit. But instead, the man who stood when you and your sister approached was young. Around your sister’s age. He was handsome, not in an intimidating way, but in a way that made you understand why your sister had made an effort to dress up a little today.

He extended a hand as soon as he saw you. “You must be her little sister.”

You shook it. His grip was firm and warm. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said, giving you a quick, assessing glance. “I’ve heard about you.”

You shot your sister a look. “Oh?”

“She told me you’re in college abroad,” Taeyong said, smiling as he sat back down. “That must be exciting.”

“I guess.” You slid into your seat, not sure what else to say.

“All my siblings went abroad for college, except me, so I’m a little jealous of you,” he chimed, smiling.

He was polite, friendly, and surprisingly accommodating. At one point, he even offered to upgrade your suite, but your sister waved him off with a smile. “That’s so nice of you, sir, but we’re fine. We’re well taken cared of.”

“It’s Mykonos. Surely you lovely ladies would love to have some privacy while you’re here,” he said, his tone suggestive but not prying.

Your sister laughed lightly. “I think my sister might. We’ve been here three days and she’s already having a blast.”

“Ah, youth,” Taeyong remarked, and then the two of them laughed heartily.

You simply smiled, looking away as you took a sip of your drink. “You guys are not that old,” you murmured to yourself, finding their banter amusing.

Lunch was pleasant, though most of the conversation was between Taeyong and your sister. They talked about business—negotiations, investment plans, projected growth. You barely followed along, focusing instead on your food. Every now and then, they’d bring you into the conversation with a casual remark or a question, but you mostly just listened.

After lunch, Taeyong excused himself to attend another meeting, leaving you and your sister alone at the table.

“Nice guy,” you commented, swirling the last of your drink.

Your sister smirked. “He is. And he’s impressive, too.”

She leaned forward, lowering her voice slightly as she added, “He’s got an insane background. Top of his class, multiple investments, speaks like five languages. And—” she gestured around, “—this hotel? His family owns it.”

You raised an eyebrow. Of course he wasn’t just an investor. Guys like him didn’t just invest in places like this. They owned them.

“Isn’t he from South Korea?”

Your sister shrugged. “He is. Don’t even get me started. They have more hotels in Korea and hotel business is not even their family’s main business.”

“Oh, damn. He’s a nepo baby.”

“Of course, he is. South Korea is big on conglomerates and dynasties. But the best thing about Lee Taeyong is that he’s really, extremely capable.”

Your sister finished the last of her wine and set her glass down with a satisfied sigh. “So, wanna go shopping?”

You made a face. “I just ate.”

She laughed. “Perfect time to walk it off, then.” With no better plans, you sighed and got up to follow her.

The streets of Mykonos were lively as usual—tourists drifting in and out of boutiques, the occasional rev of a motorbike, and the distant sound of a street musician playing for spare change. You strolled beside your sister, the sun still warm against your skin despite the cooling breeze.

Your sister, on the other hand, was in her element, scanning the shop windows with a sharp eye. She had already bought three dresses, a pair of sandals, and some accessories, yet she showed no signs of slowing down. You, on the other hand, had only picked up a couple of things—a flowy linen top and a bracelet you grabbed at the last minute just to avoid looking completely uninterested.

It wasn’t until she pulled you into another boutique that she finally took a good look at you, her gaze narrowing slightly before her lips curled into a smirk.

“Are those—” She leaned in, squinting at the side of your neck.

You didn’t need to follow her gaze to know what she had spotted. The heat of embarrassment crept up your spine as you instinctively raised a hand to cover it. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” she echoed, raising a brow. “You’ve been back for a few hours, and I just now notice these? Damn. Whoever he was, he was thorough.”

You groaned, swatting at her arm, but she only laughed, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“It’s temporary, so is he,” you muttered, stepping away and flipping through a rack of dresses just to avoid looking at her. “Won’t happen again.”

She hummed, unconvinced. “Sure.”

You ignored her, pretending to be very interested in a dress you weren’t even planning to buy. But you could feel her watching you, that knowing amusement still on her face. By the time you returned to your hotel, the sky had started to darken. Shopping bags filled the bed, most of them your sister’s.

“I can’t believe this is all you got.” She glanced at the two small bags you placed on the nightstand.

“I didn’t need anything else,” you shrugged.

“Well, I need a drink,” she said, stretching her arms over her head. “I’m going out.”

You blinked. “You are?”

“What, did you think I came to Mykonos just for work?” She shot you a grin. “There’s life outside business, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was something oddly reassuring about seeing her loosen up.

��Don’t wait up,” she added, slipping into the bathroom to freshen up.

You didn’t. You went straight to sleep after a quick shower. It surprised you how quickly you were knocked out, realizing it only when you woke up to the blinding sunshine pouring into your suite. You pushed yourself up, blinking at the unfamiliar room.

Right, Mykonos. You keep forgetting that.

After washing your face and changing out of your pajamas, you ordered room service and then plopped onto the balcony table. You’d seen it every day for the last four days, but the scenery before you never failed to take your breath away. So serene and beautiful.

Breakfast soon arrived and some hotel staff set the table for you. You didn’t realize how much you missed hearing familiar voices until the FaceTime call connected and Karina’s face appeared on screen.

“Oh my god, finally!” she exclaimed, before turning to Giselle and Ningning, who were squeezed into the frame. “She’s alive!”

“Barely,” you muttered, propping the phone against the pitcher so you could use your hands to eat.

“Long face? I thought you’re supposed to be having the time of your life there?” Giselle teased.

You huffed. “Yeah, well. Guess who’s here?”

The three of them waited, and when you didn’t immediately answer, Ningning’s eyes widened. “No way. Jeno?”

“What? No,” you scoffed. “Worse. Donghyuck.”

All three of them gawked at you through the screen. Karina choked on whatever she had been drinking, Giselle let out a laugh of disbelief, and Ningning practically gasped.

“You’re joking.”

“I wish.”

“You mean the Lee Donghyuck we know? The same one who—” Giselle trailed off, exchanging looks with the others. “—could barely afford a proper meal back in freshman year?”

“That’s the one,” you confirmed.

“And he’s vacationing in Greece?” Karina asked, still looking skeptical.

“I know, right?” you exhaled, shaking your head. 

Giselle narrowed her eyes at you through the screen. “Did he scam someone? Win the lottery? Make a deal with the devil?”

“I was thinking sugar mama,” Ningning deadpanned.

That actually made you laugh, though the question had been lingering in your own mind as well. Donghyuck in Mykonos of all places. In a luxury suite. Wearing designer sunglasses like they were disposable. None of it made sense. And yet, here you were.

“I have no clue how he could afford it, but he’s here. And, uh… something else happened, too.” The three of them leaned in, sensing the shift in your tone.

“What is it?” Karina pressed.

You hesitated, biting your lip and poking at your food for a second. Then, deciding to rip the band-aid off, you said, “I slept with him.”

Dead silence. Then—

“WHAT?!” The collective scream nearly blew your eardrums out. You winced, backing away slightly as their voices erupted all at once.

“When?!” Karina demanded.

“How?!” Giselle’s eyes were impossibly wide.

“WHY?!” Ningning practically shrieked.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, it had better be,” Ningning exclaimed, still looking utterly baffled. “Lee Donghyuck in Mykonos, and you having sex with him? That’s a wild turn of events, babe.”

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Karina said, narrowing her eyes. “You—who literally hates his guts—somehow ended up in bed with him?”

You frowned. “I don’t hate him.”

“Babe,” Ningning scoffed. “You called him a menace to society at least once a week.”

“Look, I know it sounds insane, okay? But it just happened,” you said, sighing.

“Just happened?” Giselle echoed, eyes sharp. “Like you tripped and fell on his dick?”

“No, but, basically,” you muttered. Giselle burst into laughter, while Ningning covered her mouth in sheer disbelief.

“Oh my god,” Karina muttered, rubbing her forehead. “You actually slept with Lee Donghyuck?”

You sighed again. “Yeah. I told you. I did.”

“But why?” she demanded. “Since when did you even look at him like that?”

Giselle snorted. “Guess all his efforts to sweep her off her feet finally paid off. Talk about tenacity.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” said Karina, glancing at your other friends. “I thought the whole flirting thing wasn’t serious. Like he’s just doing it to annoy you.”

Before they could bombard you with more questions, a sudden knock at the door made you glance up. You barely registered the sound, assuming it was your sister who had spent the night outside and was finally returning.

“Hold on, I think my sister’s back,” you mumbled, striding across the room to open the door.

But when you swung the door open, it wasn’t your sister standing there.  It was Donghyuck. He had a bouquet of fresh, colorful flowers in his hand and that signature smirk playing on his lips. For a second, your brain short-circuited.

Ningning’s voice echoed through the speaker, “Babe, where are you?”

You met Donghyuck’s gaze, his eyes full of mischief, and his posture relaxed like he had all the time in the world. Without a word, you ran back to the balcony to hang up the call.

“Good morning,” Donghyuck greeted, following you into the suite without waiting for permission.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shutting the door behind him.

He turned to face you, holding up the bouquet like it explained everything. “Brought you flowers.”

You crossed your arms. “Why?”

He blinked. “Because girls love flowers?”

Your deadpan stare did nothing to shake his confidence. Instead, he took a slow step forward, lowering his voice just slightly. “And because I figured showing up empty-handed might not work in my favor after yesterday.”

You eyed him suspiciously, ignoring the way your heart picked up its pace. “You think flowers are gonna help your case?”

Donghyuck grinned, setting them down on the table. “Nah, but they might get me in the door. And look, I’m already inside.”

You rolled your eyes. “Unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming,” he corrected, tilting his head. “Come on, princess. Would it kill you to say thank you?”

You exhaled sharply, but despite yourself, a tiny smirk threatened to tug at your lips. “Depends. What exactly are you here for?”

Donghyuck’s smirk deepened as he stepped closer. “Would you believe me if I said I just missed you?”

You deadpanned so he stepped back and laughed. “Of course, you won’t. Okay. Here’s the thing…”

He picked up the flowers again and handed it to you. “I’m sorry if my actions offended you. I’ve thought about it, and I realized how that may have sounded. But I, genuinely, didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything. I really just wanted to take you out and show you around.”

You hesitated, your arms still crossed, your eyes narrowing as you studied him. Donghyuck’s confident smile wavered slightly, but he kept his ground, watching you with eyes of hope and impatience.

“Come on, princess. I’m trying here,” he said, voice light but with an underlying sincerity that made you pause.

The silence stretched between you, and you bit your lip, internally fighting the urge to cave. But despite your annoyance, you couldn’t deny that this may be unnecessary.

“Fine,” you muttered finally, uncrossing your arms. “I’ll admit, I might’ve... overreacted a bit.”

Donghyuck’s expression softened just slightly, though his grin still held that mischievous spark. He took a small step forward. “Not at all, I totally get it. We could’ve just talked about it properly, though. No harm in a little open communication, you see.”

“I know,” you pouted, looking away and crossing your arms again. “I accept your apology. Let’s get over it.”

“Fine with me,” he said, stretching the flowers toward you.

You took them and walked toward the patio table, where you carefully removed the old flowers from the vase to replace them. While you were busy with that, your mind replayed the events of the morning. The rawness of what happened between you two was still fresh, and it hit you all over again with a familiar heat prickling your skin—pleasant, euphoric.

Then came the familiar stubbornness that had fueled your earlier outburst. It was probably because you told yourself, over and over, it would never, ever happen. You would never, ever get too close to Lee Donghyuck, let alone sleep with him. But here you were, caught in his charming smile and flamboyant personality.

You felt his warmth behind you, followed by his arms wrapping around you. He kissed your cheek and took a peek at your face. “Wanna go to the beach with me? Today’s weather is very lovely.”

“Hmm?” he prompted when you didn’t respond.

You took a deep breath and sighed, turning to face him. His arms stayed wrapped around you as you reached up to his shoulder, patting down his shirt. Donghyuck’s expression faltered slightly, but before he could say anything, you pulled him toward you, closing the space and kissing him slowly and deeply, an apology of sorts.

When you finally pulled away, he let out a soft chuckle, his hands resting at your waist. “Good. Now we’re on the same page.”

Donghyuck scooped you up in one smooth motion, lifting you off your feet effortlessly. You gasped in surprise, but then he kissed you again, his lips soft but insistent.

Pulling back just enough to look at you, he said, “By the way, how would you like to join me in a swanky party full of pretentious rich people tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, reminded of the yacht party you went to last time. “No.”

He chuckled, that cocky grin back in full force. “It’s a decent one, this time. Just downstairs. Boring, and slow, but with good alcohol. No drugs or naked people making out beside you.”

You gave it a good thought. “Can I still say no?”

“Of course you can, princess. But if it helps you make a decision, you should know I’d be glad if you joined me.”

“Well,” you said, your smirk widening as you placed your hands on his chest, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

He set you back down to your feet. “Alright. I’ll have a dress sent up for you.”

“No, it’s okay. I brought dresses.”

Donghyuck deadpanned. “Can’t I just send you a dress, princess? It’s not a payment and I won’t get you something too expensive, so can I just do that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why? Are you scared that I’d go there in an ugly dress?”

He laughed mockingly. “First of all, you’d look great even in a garbage bag, so it’s impossible for that to happen. Second, I really just wanna do this for you, princess.”

You grimaced. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“What? Princess?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded with a pout. “Because I want to. It suits you.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, turning to the closet. “Just take me to the beach.”

Came nightfall, Donghyuck arrived to pick you up, grinning at the sight of you in the red dress he had sent up a few hours ago. He was proud of himself too for getting your measurements right without asking you beforehand.

“I touched you thoroughly to know your exact size,” he said, eyes fixed on your busts.

You shoved your purse in his face. “Do you ever stop thinking gross thoughts, Lee Donghyuck?”

Laughing, Donghyuck took your hand from his face and intertwined it with his. “It’s not gross, love. It’s sexy.”

You took the stairs down, walking from your suite to the hotel’s grand ballroom where the ball is being held. The moon was bright up in the sky, adding to the warm glow of the lampposts around you and making your surroundings more majestic. You glanced sideways at Donghyuck, who was quietly leading you down the stairs with your hand on his arm.

“What are you doing here, Hyuck?”

He glanced at you briefly. “I’m here to take you to a ball.”

“No, I mean, here here. In Mykonos. With a nice suite, getting invited to these luxurious parties, and knowing all these people. What’s the deal?” you asked, genuinely curious.  “I mean, back at campus, I was under the impression that you were… homeless,” you added, feeling sheepish all of a sudden.

Donghyuck blinked at you, a bit confused. “What do you mean?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve seen you mooch off of Mark Lee. Generous guy, letting you crash in his apartment and all. I just figured—”

Donghyuck burst into laughter, the sound carefree and light. “Homeless and mooching off Mark Lee? That’s hilarious.” He shook his head, still grinning. “You’re not wrong about the mooching part, though.”

“So you’re not homeless?” you teased, but he just waved you off.

“Nah, I just didn’t bother getting myself a flat. Too much work,” he said, shaking his head. “Mark and I are cousins so he doesn’t mind. Except now that he has a girlfriend. Suddenly, he wants his space,” he added, casually dropping the bombshell.

You stopped walking, blinking up at him in disbelief. “Wait, what? You and Mark are cousins?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah. We literally have the same last name.”

You stared at him for a second, still processing the fact that Donghyuck, the carefree guy who seemed to drift through life, was related to Mark Lee, the campus’s ‘smart boy’ and all-around golden child. 

“Well then, sue me for having common sense and thinking that not everyone with the same last name is related,” you muttered, recovering from the shock.

Donghyuck smirked, as if he’d expected that. “Obviously, not everyone is. But Mark and I are.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Right? It would be funny if you were related to every Lee out there. I mean, that would be a big ass family.”

Donghyuck just watched you, his fond smile never faltering. 

Then, you suddenly added, “Imagine if you were related to Lee Taeyong. Now that’s something.”

“Lee Taeyong?” Donghyuck repeated, sounding slightly confused.

“Yeah. He’s the CEO of some company, I forgot which one. My sister’s here to close a business deal with him or something,” you explained, glancing sideways at him. “He’s really cool. And very handsome too.”

Donghyuck hummed, not looking particularly impressed. “I’m sure he is.”

You leaned in, a little more adamant now, “He really is. I thought he’d be some boring middle-aged CEO guy, but he’s into F1 and even makes music. Speaks a lot of languages too. The guy’s a legit Renaissance man.”

Donghyuck’s smirk widened, amused by your expressions. “Yeah, but he hasn’t done any of that in the past year, so he’s pretty stagnant.”

“What?” you blurted, completely caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Donghyuck looked at you with a slight shrug. “He’s been buried in work lately, so he’s gotten a little rusty. Not exactly the Renaissance man you’re picturing.”

You stared at him, trying to make sense of it. Your mouth opened as the realization slowly crept in. “No way.”

Donghyuck didn’t even flinch at your reaction. He just shrugged again, the same casual indifference written all over his face. 

“Are you and Lee Taeyong—”

Before you could finish your question, you found yourselves standing at the grand entrance to the ballroom, the sound of the party flooding your ears. The grand chandelier above sparkled as guests drifted in and out of the ornate space. Donghyuck grinned at you, clearly enjoying the way the evening had been unfolding.

“Well, here we are,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Ready to meet the ‘pretentious rich people’?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “I guess.”

He nudged you playfully, his arm brushing against yours as you both entered the ballroom. “Don’t worry, princess. It’ll be a night to remember.”

As you stepped into the ballroom, you took in the sophisticated air around you. People were conversing in groups, champagne glasses were clinking, all while a soft symphony played in the background. The guests, dressed in designer suits and elegant gowns, moved about with an effortless grace that made it clear they belonged there.

You turned to Donghyuck, ready to make some remark about how this was far from the kind of scene you pictured him thriving in, but before you could, a familiar voice called out from across the room.

“There you are,” your sister called out, making her way over. She gave you a quick once-over and complimented you before turning to Donghyuck. “You must be Lee Donghyuck.”

“I am. Nice to meet you,” Donghyuck replied, shaking hands with your sister.

“Nice to meet you too,” your sister chimed. “I’ll leave her in your care tonight, okay?”

Before Donghyuck could reply, another voice joined in.

“Haechan.” You looked up just in time to see none other than Lee Taeyong approaching. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, the kind tailored to perfection, exuding the confidence of someone who owned the room without needing to announce it.

Donghyuck, in contrast, had his hands casually tucked in his pockets, his ever-present smirk still in place.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck greeted, the term slipping out effortlessly as he extended a hand. But instead of shaking it, Taeyong pulled him into a brief but firm hug before stepping back.

Your brows shot up. Hyung?

“How are you finding Mykonos so far?” Taeyong asked, studying Donghyuck with a knowing look.

Donghyuck grinned. “Having fun, obviously. Thanks for bringing me along.”

Your sister looked mildly surprised by the exchange, glancing at you inquiringly but you were confused too so you just shrugged.

Taeyong nodded. “Good. Thought you could use a little vacation.”

“You’re too generous, really,” Donghyuck said with mock sincerity, pressing a hand to his chest. “It’s almost touching.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes but didn’t bother responding to that. Instead, his gaze flickered to you. “Good to see you again. I hope you enjoy the evening.”

You decided that you’d be the one to ask the question. “Okay, so I’m missing something here. You two know each other?”

Donghyuck shrugged. “You could say that.”

Taeyong sighed, deciding to be the one to fill in the blanks. “I’m Haechan’s brother.” That piece of information landed like a bomb in your brain. Then he turned to your sister and said, “Shall we?”

You watched them walk further into the party, leaving you and Donghyuck by the entrance. When they were finally out of earshot, you turned to Donghyuck, arms crossed. “Brother?”

Donghyuck chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “I did tell you Mark and I are cousins. Guess I forgot to mention that that guy there is my older brother.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. “You—what—” You turned to Taeyong in disbelief, watching them mingle with the crowd. “He’s your brother?”

You turned back to Donghyuck, trying to make sense of it. “You’re telling me you’re actually rich rich?”

Donghyuck snorted. “Define rich rich.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “This is giving me a headache.”

The entire time you’d known Donghyuck, you had never—not once—gotten the impression that he came from money. Sure, he was charming enough to talk his way into any situation, but you had always assumed he was just a broke, freeloading menace who somehow managed to land on his feet every time. Now, standing here, you were suddenly realizing that maybe you’d been playing a completely different game than you thought.

Donghyuck, ever the picture of unbothered confidence, just shot you a wink. “Come on. I’m here to work.”

For the next hour, you played the role of an observer, sipping champagne and watching Donghyuck—Haechan, as these people called him—navigate the room like it was second nature. He charmed investors, shook hands with CEOs, and exchanged pleasantries with people whose last names probably meant something in this world. But you noticed the slight tension in his smile, the glint of something close to boredom in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

Not you, though. You were looking. Every now and then, he would lean toward you, his voice dropping just low enough for only you to hear.

“This guy’s been talking about stocks for ten minutes straight. Please put me out of my misery.”

“I swear on my life, the dude in the navy suit just namedropped Elon Musk in an actual conversation. Do you see what I deal with?”

Despite his grumbling, Donghyuck handled it all flawlessly. A smooth word here, a perfectly timed joke there. He knew exactly when to nod, when to feign interest, when to switch gears and talk about things they wanted to hear. It was effortless. But you saw it for what it was, a performance.

So when it looked like there was no one else for him to greet and he turned to you with that familiar gleam in his eye, you already knew what was coming. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, fingers grazing your wrist.

You didn’t hesitate. He intertwined his fingers through yours and pulled you away from the glittering ballroom, slipping past guests and ducking into the night.

The warm Mykonos air wrapped around you as you ran, your laughter echoing in your wake as if you were kids sneaking out past curfew. The party faded behind you, replaced by the gentle sound of waves meeting the shore.

By the time you reached the beach, you were breathless, giddy. Kicking off your shoes, you felt the cool, damp sand under your feet, the hem of your dress brushing against it as you twirled around, feeling lighter than you had all night. Donghyuck caught you mid-spin, pulling you against him. His arms snaked around your waist, his warm breath fanning your cheek.

“You looked good in there,” he murmured, his lips pressing on your cheek. “But you look so much better out here.”

You tilted your head, smirking. “Again with your lines.”

“Aw man, is it not working?” He stole a kiss, slow and teasing, before pulling away just as you started to chase after him.

It turned into a game—kisses stolen between laughter, between whispered jokes, between grains of sand sticking to your skin. At some point, you reached the dock, the wooden planks cool under your bare feet. Small yachts and sailboats swayed gently with the waves, their white decks gleaming under the moonlight.

Donghyuck stopped in front of a particular sailboat, glancing at you with a raised brow. “Ever been on one of these?”

You shook your head, making him grin. “Then let me be your first.”

Offering his hand, he helped you step aboard, steadying you as you found your footing. The boat rocked slightly, the sea stretching wide and endless around you.

“Is this yours?” you asked, not even second-guessing yourself now. He was wealthy, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he owned a boat or two.

“It’s my dad’s. He gave it to me but I haven’t used it much because I don’t know how to.”

“He didn’t teach you?” you questioned out of genuine curiosity, only to realize that it might hit a nerve.

“Businessman fathers don’t have time to teach, princess,” he replied, chuckling as he crouched in front of what appeared to be a console under the helm. He fished a key from his coat pocket and fiddled with the controls. A few seconds later, the sailboat engine started roaring. “There we go.”

“Are we going somewhere?” you asked, joining him there.

“Not too far. Just getting some privacy,” he replied, grinning. You narrowed your eyes playfully at him.

“I can see your ulterior motives very clearly, Hyuck.”

Oddly enough, Donghyuck didn’t try anything funny. He sailed the boat a few meters from the dock, anchoring just far enough to give you both some privacy. From where you stood, you could get a panoramic view of the iconic landscape before you, glittering and glowing under the night sky.

Donghyuck joined you at the bow, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you gently so you were face-to-face with him.

“Now, tell me, princess,” he asked, tilting his head. “Are you falling for me yet?”

You let out a soft laugh, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Donghyuck, this is not a romance.”

He shrugged. “You’re right,” he replied, grinning. “No love stories here.”

You both laughed, the sound carrying over the quiet waves. Then he added. “But you gotta admit, it’s quite romantic up here, no?”

You giggled. “Fine. It is.” And just like that, under the watchful moon, he kissed you again.

“I have a bed inside,” he whispered in your ear, his warm breath and the suggestion tickling your skin.

“You know, this would be more romantic if you could just calm your dick for once,” you teased, letting him kiss your neck.

He led you inside the cabin. It was small, dimly lit by the warm glow of a lantern hanging from the ceiling. The rocking of the sailboat beneath you made everything feel untethered, like the night itself was swaying. You barely made it inside before Donghyuck’s lips were on yours again in a slow and indulgent kiss.

Your hands fumbled at each other, stripping away layers of clothing with breathless laughter. When the last of your clothes hit the floor, Donghyuck reached for his bag at the edge of the bed.

“I brought something you might find interesting,” he chimed.  He held up a small tin case, popping it open with a flick of his fingers. Inside, a row of round, pastel-colored pills sat neatly in place.

You knew exactly what they were. The same ones Luca and his friends had been passing around on the yacht a few nights ago. You had been curious then, idly wondering what it would feel like, how it would taste, how it would change things.

Donghyuck held out a pill between his fingers, watching you carefully. “You still wanna try?”

You hesitated for a second. Not out of fear, but because there was something exhilarating in knowing you were about to cross another line with him. But you trusted him. So you took it from his palm and placed it on your tongue.

He did the same, popping his own pill before cupping your face and kissing you deeply.

The effects crept in slowly, like warm water rising over your skin. At first, it was just a buzz beneath your flesh, a whisper in your nerves. But then it spread, warm and glowing, turning every breath into liquid gold.

The world seemed to slow down. Donghyuck’s lips traced over your jaw, your neck, down to your belly and it felt like his mouth was leaving heat trails in his wake, until he stopped between your legs. He pried your thighs open, holding them down as he buried his nose against your sex. And when he started using his mouth, every nerve in your body bloomed under his touch. The sheets under you were impossibly soft, while the dim lantern light cast shadows that stretched and warped like living things.

You whimpered and writhed, pleasure taking over your entire being. Your hands were numb, but they were gripping his hair tightly, tugging him forward and bucking your hips against his face as desperation took control of your senses.

And when your orgasm erupted, you let out a throaty moan, back arching and mouth gaping. Donghyuck appeared in your line of sight. His pupils were blown wide, dark, and endless, his lips parted just slightly. He looked at you like he was seeing something divine.

“This must be heaven,” he whispered, his voice drenched in honey, in heat.

“No, Hyuck.” Your fingers traced his collarbone, slow and lazy. “This is so much better.”

He grinned, a little dazed, a little drunk on you. “Totally,” he replied, laughter spilling between you as his lips found yours again.

And then everything unraveled slowly, beautifully, like waves rolling in and out. Every touch electrified your skin, every sigh stretched into infinity. You melted into him, into the warmth, into the way the night folded around you like a secret meant only for the two of you. Nothing else existed. Just this. Just him. Just the soft, glowing haze of pleasure that refused to end.

The afternoon light filtered in through the small cabin window, golden and hazy. You stirred awake, your body feeling warm, and weightless, like you were still caught somewhere between dreaming and waking. A slow breath, a stretch, and then the world registered clearly into view.

It was morning and you were still in the boat. Your phone was dead, its screen stubbornly black when you tried pressing the power button. With a groggy sigh, you pushed yourself upright, the sheets pooling around your waist. Donghyuck was nowhere to be seen.

That was when you felt the slow and rhythmic sway underneath you, different from the night before. The boat was moving. Frowning, you climbed out of bed, slipping on whatever clothes you could find before stepping out onto the deck.

Donghyuck stood at the helm, one hand lazily gripping the wheel as he guided the sailboat back toward the docks. The breeze ruffled his hair, the sunlight catching on his skin, making him look almost too picturesque for someone who was probably winging this whole thing. He must have heard your footsteps because he glanced over his shoulder and smirked.

“Look who finally decided to rejoin the living.”

You squinted against the light. “What time is it?”

“Noon,” he said, voice amused. “Figured I’d let you sleep. You looked like you needed it.”

You stretched with a groan before eyeing him suspiciously. “How about you?”

He shrugged. “Had to get us back to shore somehow.”

You sighed, leaning against the railing as you watched the island come into view. “My phone’s dead.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” he quipped. “Forces you to live in the moment.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could reply, he reached for your waist, pulling you into him with ease. The kiss he pressed to your lips was slow and sweet. When he pulled back, he looked a little too satisfied with himself.

“You always do that,” you muttered.

“What?” he grinned. “Kiss you? Or cut you off when you’re talking? Either way, I’m not sorry.”

You shoved at his shoulder, and he just laughed, turning back to the wheel.

“By the way,” he said, adjusting the course slightly, “I ordered room service in my suite. Figured you’d be hungry after last night.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at the water around you. “What, no fresh catch?”

Donghyuck snorted. “If I could fish too, I’d be entirely too perfect for this world. That’s not fair to other people.”

You shook your head. “Right, because you’re just so amazing and talented, aren’t you, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing you a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling as the boat drifted closer to shore. You spotted a few handful of people standing on your spot at the docks. Squinting helped you recognize that one of them was your sister.

The moment your feet hit the dock, you knew you were in trouble. Your sister stood a few steps away, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her sharp gaze locking onto you the second she spotted you. Next to her, Taeyong looked slightly more composed, but the tension in his posture made it clear that you were both in trouble.

Donghyuck exhaled beside you. “Okay, what’s going on?”

You barely had time to react before your sister stormed up to you.

“Are you serious?” she snapped. “Your phone’s been dead for hours, you didn’t text me last night, and I had to find out from him—” she gestured toward Taeyong, “—that you weren’t missing, just being reckless?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but she wasn’t done. “Do you know how worried I was? I thought something happened to you!”

“I’m fine,” you assured her quickly, hands raised in surrender. “I just—”

“Just disappeared without a word and left me to assume the worst?”

Okay, yeah. When she put it like that, it did sound bad. You glanced at Taeyong, who gave you a look that read as both unimpressed and relieved.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, had his hands shoved into his pockets, looking every bit the picture of someone who’d been through enough lectures in his life to know when to just take it. But your sister wasn’t about to let him off so easily.

“And you,” she turned on him now, eyes narrowing. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Donghyuck blinked. “In my defense, I did nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong? You took my sister out to god knows where without telling anyone—”

“She’s an adult,” Donghyuck pointed out, his tone almost amused. “She can make her own choices.”

“She also doesn’t think before she acts sometimes,” your sister shot back, exasperated.

You scoffed. “Hey.”

“She’s right,” Taeyong added mildly, looking at Donghyuck. “You could’ve at least made sure to let her know where you took her sister.”

You winced at your sister. “Okay, I was gonna text you, but my phone was dead.”

Your sister wasn’t impressed. “And you didn’t think to borrow one?”

Donghyuck nudged you. “That is a good point.”

You shot him a glare. “Not helping.”

His lips twitched like he was fighting back a laugh. Your sister exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. “Look, I won’t tell you what you can and cannot do, okay? But please don’t disappear on me like that again.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “It won’t happen again. I’ll let you know next time.”

She huffed but seemed to relax slightly, the anger giving way to lingering concern. “Good.” Then, with one last glance between you and Donghyuck, she muttered, “You guys are unbelievable,” before turning away.

Taeyong stayed a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Tto Donghyuck, he said, “Try not to cause too much trouble.”

Donghyuck’s grin was mischievous. “Can’t make any promises.”

Taeyong just sighed, shaking his head as he followed after your sister.

Once they were out of earshot, Donghyuck let out a low whistle. “That went better than expected.”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t say that. Your sister was right. I’m just glad I didn’t get banned from seeing you,” he said, wiggling his brows. “I’d call that a win.”

You rolled your eyes, but when he threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in with a lazy smirk, you let him. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

Mykonos swallowed you whole, pulled you under its spell, and refused to let go. Days bled into nights in a whirlwind of reckless and wild indulgence. It was the kind of summer you knew you’d never be able to recreate anywhere else.

You and Donghyuck did anything and everything. You spent hours tangled in hotel sheets, barely surfacing for air between kisses and tangled limbs. When you weren’t in bed, you found other places—a quiet corner in an art gallery where he pressed you against the wall, his lips trailing along your jaw as you struggled to keep your composure; the backseat of a borrowed car where you climbed onto his lap, his hand gripping your waist as you moved with urgency in a cramped space.

Some mornings started late, sunlight spilling through hotel curtains onto bare legs, skin still sticky with the aftermath of the night before. Other mornings started early—too early—because Donghyuck was shaking you awake, grinning like a devil as he pulled you out of bed for some ridiculous adventure.

One morning, you found yourself on the back of a rented scooter, clinging to him as he sped through Mykonos Town’s narrow, winding streets. He took sharp turns without warning, nearly tipping you both over more than once, but all you could do was shriek and laugh, your arms tightening around his waist. When he skidded to a stop near a cliffside just to “appreciate the view,” you smacked his arm, finding it not worth the danger.

Afternoons were spent stretched out on the warm sand of a private beach, the waves lapping at your toes while Donghyuck traced lazy circles on your thigh. Your sister and Taeyong sat under the shade of an umbrella, deep in discussion over numbers and contracts, completely oblivious to you and Donghyuck sneaking off into the water.

“You two are like teenagers,” your sister muttered when you returned, wet and glowing, Donghyuck shamelessly draping himself over you.

You just grinned, stealing his sunglasses and perching them on your nose. “Isn’t that the point?”

Summers in Mykonos meant rich kids and yacht parties. At another yacht party, this one even wilder than the last, you drank expensive champagne straight from the bottle, your bodies slick with sweat as you danced under the flashing neon lights. Donghyuck was in his element, standing at the center of it, laughing, dancing, getting shots poured straight into his mouth by some rich kid who looked equally as wasted.

You had no idea whose yacht it was, just that it was another friend of Donghyuck’s. He pulled you close, murmuring into your ear that you were the best thing about this entire trip.

“You keep up with me so well,” he mused at one point. “I’m impressed.”

You rolled your eyes but hooked a finger into his collar, pulling him closer. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

It was a blur after that—dizzy kisses, greedy hands, laughter and giggles against skin. You ended up in one of the lower cabins, skin-to-skin, lost in the high of it all.

Some nights were quieter, but no less intoxicating.

Like the time he dared you to break into a private infinity pool perched on the cliffs. You stripped down to your underwear, slipping into the cool water, laughing when Donghyuck cannonballed after you. He then swam behind you, pressing his chest on your back and undoing your bikini top.

“You know this is illegal, right?” you whispered, the stars reflected in his dark eyes.

“Only if we get caught,” he grinned, lips brushing your bare shoulder.

Later, you lay side by side on the pool’s edge, toes skimming the water, shoulders brushing. Donghyuck turned his head, watching you in the moonlight.

“You’re a bad girl,” he said softly, teasing.

You smirked, not looking away from the stars. “Oh, yeah? Well, you’re obsessed with this bad girl.”

And he was. You could feel it in the way he kissed you, touched you, and looked at you like this summer was something he never wanted to end.

“This isn’t a romance,” you muttered, because it was easier to say it before he could.

Donghyuck huffed out a laugh, tilting his head toward you. “You beat me to it by two seconds.”

It was an inside joke now—one you repeated like a charm to ward off whatever this was turning into. 

But you didn’t have to talk about relationships and statuses. You just kept moving, kept laughing, kept reaching for each other in the dark. You lived recklessly, selfishly, like the world outside this island didn’t exist. And maybe it wouldn’t last. Maybe it wasn’t meant to. But in Mykonos, under the heat of the sun and the glow of the city’s endless nights, it was everything.

Day 9 in Mykonos. The sky was so clear that the stars felt within reach. You lay on the sand, legs stretched out, and Donghyuck was right there beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from him.

You swapped stories, sharing bits of your past that never seemed important enough to bring up before. Stupid childhood memories, embarrassing moments, harmless secrets. You told him about the time you and your friends snuck into a Rated-18 adult bookstore and almost got caught. He told you about the time he got kicked out of a club for pretending to be a celebrity’s cousin.

At some point, you turned to him, the sky reflecting in his dark eyes. “Why do people call you Haechan?”

His smirk faltered, just for a second. You didn’t expect him to answer so seriously, but when he did, his voice was quiet and soft.

“My parents weren’t married when they had me,” he admitted. “My mom was my dad’s mistress longer than she was his wife. For most of my life, I was just Donghyuck. But when my father finally decided to introduce me to society as a member of the family, they gave me a new name. Haechan.”

You stared at him, suddenly feeling like you were seeing him differently. Donghyuck, who belonged so easily in every room, every crowd, every moment, had spent years being someone who didn’t belong anywhere.

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing. And maybe that silence opened something up in him because then he exhaled and said, “And I’ve known you longer than you think.”

You frowned. “What?”

His lips pressed together in a small, almost nervous smile. “There was an international high school science event,” he said. “I was a delegate. I was having a shitty time—family stuff. I snuck off somewhere quiet and… I don’t know, I just sat there, trying to pull myself together. Then you walked up. You didn’t say anything, just handed me your handkerchief, patted my back, and walked away.”

For a moment, you just stared at him. Then, you let out a small laugh. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“That doesn’t even sound like me.”

“You were nice,” he said with a small shrug. “At least for a second.”

You rolled your eyes, but something about it was so absurd that you almost laughed again. You tried to reach back for the memory, but it was hazy—just a vague recollection of an unfamiliar boy hunched over in some dimly lit hallway, his face buried in his hands.

It had meant nothing to you. But apparently, it had meant something to him. It was funny. Until it wasn’t. Because then, Donghyuck looked at you, really looked at you, and said, “I’ve been in love with you since that day.”

Your stomach dropped, and suddenly, the world didn’t feel so light anymore.

“No,” you said, almost instinctively.

“No?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“You can’t say shit like that,” you muttered, sitting up, wrapping your arms around your knees. 

“Why not?

You chuckled nervously. “What if you’re wrong? What if that girl wasn’t me? I don’t even remember that.”

“I knew it was you. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.”

“No, Hyuck,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You can’t do this. Don’t do this. Don’t ruin this.”

Donghyuck scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Ruin what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Whatever this is.”

“What is this then?”

“Nothing!” you snapped.

His jaw clenched, something flashing in his eyes—hurt? Anger, maybe?

“Nothing?” Donghyuck scoffed, sitting up now. He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “So what? We just hang out, we fuck, and that’s it? After this, we go back home and pretend none of this ever happened?”

“Yes.” The word came out harsher than you intended.

Donghyuck stared at you, waiting for you to take it back, waiting for anything. You didn’t.

“You don’t love me,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

You hesitated. That was enough of an answer. Donghyuck exhaled, shaking his head. “You can’t even say it, can you?”

You took a breath. “I can’t. I can’t love you.”

His lips parted slightly, but whatever he wanted to say, he swallowed it back. He nodded once, like he had just come to a decision. Then, without another word, he got up and walked away. And you let him.

In the morning, everything would go back to normal. He’d come around after you’d both pushed this conversation past you.

But he didn’t. You sat in your suite all day, waiting, wondering, hoping. You kept waiting for him to show up—cracking jokes, finding excuses to touch you, dragging you into whatever trouble he had planned for the day. But he never did.

You debated going to see him, making up excuses to go there. You’d basically been living there all week. You had some of your stuff up there too. But try as you might, you couldn’t bring yourself to lower your pride and seek him out first.

At some point, you found yourself at a lounge bar, trying to distract yourself with a drink, and trying not to check your phone even though you knew there was nothing to check. That was when you spotted Taeyong, tucked in a booth scrolling through a tablet, looking every bit the serious businessman. 

You walked over. “Hey.”

He looked up, taking a second too long to study your face. “Hey. You look…” He trailed off, like he wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said. “Just… needed a drink.”

Taeyong didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide. “You looking for Haechan?”

You were hoping he’d ask you that. But now that he did, you realized just how badly you wanted to see him. “I was actually wondering where he is,” you admitted.

He exhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers against the table. “There’s a cocktail party downstairs and he was invited. I’m not sure if he went.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an invitation. “Here, why don’t you go check? This was for me, but I feel like you’d enjoy it more than I will.”

You took the card, hope suddenly filling up your heart. “Thanks.”

As you turned to leave, Taeyong spoke again, his voice softer this time. “I like you. You’re good for our Donghyuck.”

You glanced back, caught off guard. He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, just swirling his drink like it was a passing thought, but there was warmth in his eyes. In the past few days that you were here, this was the first time you heard him use the name Donghyuck instead of Haechan.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you didn’t. You just nodded and left.

Back in your room, you got ready, but the whole time, your thoughts wouldn’t shut up. You changed into a dress, one you knew he’d like, one you knew you looked good in. You fixed your hair, added a little makeup, anything to make yourself feel more confident. More beautiful.

And then, right on cue, doubt kicked in. You stared at your reflection, almost accusingly. “What am I doing?”

Dressing up for him and trying to impress him after you told him to leave you alone? You had to be out of your mind.

You should’ve stopped there. You should’ve wiped off the makeup, taken off the dress, and stayed in. But despite all the warnings in your head, your feet carried you to the door.

The hallway felt longer than usual as you made your way downstairs, heart pounding wildly. The party wasn’t huge, but it was packed with people around your age, though they weren’t like you. They were effortlessly glamorous, effortlessly rich.

You scanned the room, hoping he was there. And he was. Donghyuck stood near the bar, deep in conversation with a group of people. Your pulse quickened as you walked toward him. But the closer you got, the clearer it became. Something was off.

“Hyuck,” you called softly.

When he turned, his eyes met yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, they weren’t warm. There was no teasing smile, no playful glint. Just cool detachment, like he was looking right through you.

You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, he turned back to his friends, as if you weren’t even there.

You hesitated. Tried again. “Hey,” you said, forcing some lightness into your tone. “I see you’re having fun.”

He didn’t even glance at you. Just shrugged. “Yeah. Can I help you?”

His tone was sharp, telling you to leave him alone despite saying something else. That was it. No nicknames, no smirk, not even a glance your way.

So this was how it was going to be. He wasn’t going to argue. Wasn’t going to fight. He was just done. You stood there a second longer, waiting for something—anything—but Donghyuck was already back to his conversation, shutting you out completely.

You had no choice but to leave.

The noise of the party faded behind you as you stepped outside, the night air cooling the heat creeping up your neck. You exhaled sharply, leaning against the stone wall, trying to shake the feeling sinking into your chest.

You should be angry, right? He was the one who confessed. He was the one who made this messy. Your reaction was valid, but you didn’t know you’d miss him this much. You told him to leave you alone. You told him you couldn’t do this with him. You couldn’t go back on that now. Could you?

“Why not?” your sister asked when you told her everything that night.

You both sat on the balcony, mirroring each other—feet tucked in, arms wrapped around your knees, gazes fixed on the dark horizon. The air was warm but your chest felt tight, like there wasn’t enough air to breathe.

“Because…” you groaned, resting your chin on your knees. “Jeno.”

Your sister didn’t say anything, just waited.

“It’s different, I know,” you admitted. “It’s not fair to compare. Jeno never tried. He didn’t care enough to try.” The words felt sharp in your mouth, but they were true. Jeno let you slip through his fingers like you were nothing. Donghyuck wasn’t like that. He had only ever shown you how much he wanted you, how much he adored you in his own perverted and unconventional way, but it was hard to ignore.

The problem wasn’t him. It was you. You had given your heart to someone before, and he hadn’t known what to do with it. He was careless with it. Now, you weren’t sure if you even knew how to give it again, or if you even wanted to.

Your sister sighed, reaching over to smooth her fingers through your hair. “Sweetheart,” she said, her voice soft, “you don’t have to hand over your heart to someone else. It’s yours. You take care of it. You protect it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t share it.”

You swallowed, staring at your hands.

“If you love yourself enough,” she continued, “if you know how to hold your own heart gently, no one else can break it beyond repair. Do you get what I’m saying?”

You did. And for the first time, it wasn’t a question of whether Donghyuck would break your heart. It was whether you would let yourself love him.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” you blurted, standing up before you could even think twice.

You hurried out, riding the elevator to his floor. But before the doors could close, doubt crept into your heart so you rushed out instead.

You stood there for a moment, eyes fixed on your reflection in the steel doors. “I need a drink,” you muttered to yourself, and turned toward the bar.

The alcohol burned its way down, but it wasn’t doing its job fast enough. You tapped your fingers against the bar, willing your nerves to settle, but they rattled harder. Another shot. Then another. Liquid courage, right? That's what they called it. But all it did was blur your thoughts and spin your head.

By the time you reached your tenth shot, your vision was doubling. You were drunk, and you knew it. But you knew where you had to be.

Somehow, you found yourself in front of Donghyuck’s suite. Your fist hit the door—once, twice, then again, harder, louder, more persistent. You had no idea what time it was, but it had to be late, because when the door finally swung open, Donghyuck looked like he had just been about to call it a night. His hair was tousled, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, and his eyes—God, those eyes—were heavy and unreadable.

You swayed slightly, gripping the doorframe for balance, but you didn’t say a word. Neither did he. The silence stretched and then, without thinking, without speaking, you kissed him.

It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was desperate, heated, almost punishing. You tasted like alcohol and something bittersweet, and Donghyuck’s sharp intake of breath against your lips made you want to pull away. But you didn’t. You needed this, needed him.

His hands settled on your waist, steadying you, but he didn’t pull you closer. Didn’t kiss you back the way you wanted him to.

When he finally pulled away, you chased after him, but he held you at arm’s length. His breathing was uneven, and his eyes were dark and unreadable. “What do you want from me?”

The question hit harder than it should have. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You didn’t have an answer to that.

And then you saw someone. A girl stood a few feet inside the suite, tall and striking, wearing an expensive silk dress that clung to her frame exquisitely. The kind of girl who belonged in his world, who probably knew all the right things to say and do. She wasn’t looking at you with pity or amusement—she was just there, existing in his space.

Your stomach turned. You shoved Donghyuck away, stumbling slightly in the process, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t look at him, didn’t let him speak. You just turned and left, ignoring the sound of him calling after you.

You had no idea where you were going, but anywhere was better than here. You kept walking, climbing stairs, descending them. It was a maze of white buildings, your chest heavy with the alcohol and the weight of your issues with Donghyuck. You kept walking until you finally found yourself in the hotel parking lot, disoriented and alone.

You didn’t know why you ended up there, what you were even trying to do anymore. You were drunk, confused, and angry, yet you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Then you heard his voice. It cut through the quiet night, sharp and frustrated. “Hey!” He was standing in the distance, looking at you with frustration and concern in his expression.

“Fuck you,” you shouted. But he didn’t flinch. He just walked toward you.

“You’re drunk. I’ll take you back to your room,” he said softly, reaching for your arm.

You swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” you cried, hugging yourself. “Don’t touch me with those hands.”

“Princess…”

“And don’t call me that either!” You laughed, bitterly, stepping back. You could feel the rain starting to fall, light at first, then heavier. “Go back to your woman, Donghyuck. You can’t be out here chasing another while someone’s waiting for you in your suite.”

He sighed, rubbing his neck like he was physically exhausted. The rain picked up. “It’s not what you think. She's not my woman. Just… come with me. Let’s go back inside.”

You backed away when he reached for you again. “You think I’m the problem, don’t you? You think I’m the one who’s been messing this up. But you’re the one who made it all so complicated. You ruined this, Donghyuck! You told me you loved me, and then you…” Your voice broke, and your knees gave way.

You sank to the ground, spinning from the alcohol. Donghyuck crouched beside you, his hands on your shoulders, steady but not comforting.

“You left me alone,” you sobbed, weakly hitting his chest.

His jaw tightened. “You told me to leave you alone. I only did what you asked.”

“Yeah, well maybe I didn’t mean it!” you snapped, looking up at him, desperate to make him understand. “Maybe I didn’t want you to leave me alone! But you just walked away, acted like nothing happened. The next morning, I was a stranger to you!” Your chest was tight, voice cracking as you finally let yourself say it out loud. You didn’t know when you’d been this vulnerable before. Maybe never. 

“I’m not a stranger,” you added softly, burying your face in your hands, the tears falling freely now.

His eyes softened, and for a moment, there was something gentle there. His voice was quieter when he asked, “What do you really want, princess? Tell me. Because I don’t know how to fix this when you can’t even make up your mind.”

Your head spun. You wanted to yell at him. Tell him to never leave you alone. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you kissed him again.

It wasn’t a kiss born from clarity or understanding. It was desperation. A way to make all the emotions, all the anger, and the hurt disappear. His hands cupped your face, and for the first time in days, something felt real.

Then the image of the girl in his room registered in your mind and suddenly, you were furious again. You pushed him away, sending him to the ground with a confused look on his face. Tears mixed with the rain as you stood, storming away. You couldn’t stop crying, and you didn’t know if you were mad at him or yourself. Everything was too much.

Then, you heard his voice again, rougher this time. “Hey! Wait!”

You turned around to see Donghyuck running toward you, his footsteps slapping against the wet pavement. You didn’t want to hear him. Didn’t want to see him. But there he was, pushing past you, grabbing your arm to stop you.

“Let go of me!” you snapped, pulling your arm free.

“I’m not letting you walk away from this, damn it!” His voice cracked, and suddenly, you were face to face with him again. “You can’t keep running from this.”

“I can. Just stop chasing me!” You shoved at him, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled you closer.

“Why do you keep doing this to us?” he demanded.

“I don’t know!” you cried, your voice breaking. “I don’t know, Donghyuck. I don’t even know what this is anymore.”

The next thing you knew, a sports car screeched into the parking lot, headlights blinding you both. You both froze, caught in a moment of shock, and then, in one swift motion, Donghyuck shoved you out of the car’s path.

You hit the ground hard, pain shooting through your body. But before you could even process it, the sound of screeching tires and the crash of metal against metal filled your ears.

The world spun. You heard Donghyuck’s voice calling your name, but it was distant, muffled. Blood rushed to your ears as the pain hit your side, and everything went black.

You were aware of the beeping first, then the scent of antiseptic in the air. You blinked a few times, your eyelids heavy like they weren’t yours. The world was blurry at first, and then, slowly, it began to sharpen. The white walls of a hospital room greeted you, sterile and unfamiliar. For a moment, you couldn’t remember how you got here, but the dull ache in your body reminded you of the crash.

“Hey, you’re awake!” The voice was familiar—your sister’s. You turned your head slightly, finding her sitting beside you, looking like she hadn’t slept in days. Her eyes were red, and there was a worried line etched between her brows. “You had us so scared, you know that?”

You swallowed hard, your mind immediately going back to the scene before everything went blank. Donghyuck. You had to know if he was okay.

You tried to speak, but your throat was dry, the words trapped there. Instead, you reached out weakly, and she immediately grabbed your hand, squeezing it with relief. She called the nurse, and moments later, a doctor came in with a couple of nurses in tow. They adjusted the IV hooked up to your arm, checking your vitals and asking you simple questions—name, date, where you were.

The doctor nodded as you answered everything correctly, then gave a reassuring smile. “Everything looks good. You’re going to be just fine. Just need some more rest.”

You nodded in return, barely processing what he was saying. Your gaze kept flicking toward the door, hoping to see a familiar face, but no one came. Then, through the small crack in the door, you saw Taeyong.

He entered the room, his face stern, but there was a touch of worry in his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, hoping Donghyuck would follow him in, but he didn’t. 

You stared at him, struggling to get the words out, your voice hoarse. “Where… where’s Donghyuck?”

Taeyong hesitated, his eyes flickering between you and your sister, who had stayed quietly at your side. He sighed, the lines of worry deepening on his face. “There was an accident,” he started slowly. “A drunk guest was driving, and they crashed into the parking lot. Donghyuck… he tried to get to you but he was a little too late and this happened.”

You didn’t understand. “What happened to him?” you demanded, your voice firm despite the dizziness that still lingered in your head. “Is he okay?”

Taeyong seemed to weigh his words before continuing. “He’s fine. Everyone’s fine. You were actually the last to wake up. After the accident, things got complicated. Lawsuits, settlements… The other party’s insurance is involved now. It’s a mess. But the good news is, you’re okay. Just a few injuries, nothing too serious. The shock made you pass out for a couple of days, that’s all.”

You barely heard him as he spoke, your mind only focused on one thing. Where was Donghyuck? Your eyes scanned Taeyong’s face desperately. “Taeyong. Where is he?”

Taeyong looked to your sister, who nodded at him. He stepped back and gave a small, regretful smile, excusing himself with a murmured, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, your sister turned to you and you could see the hesitation in her eyes. There was an answer to your question that she didn’t want to give. 

“Donghyuck left the island this morning,” she said quietly, her voice strained. “He’s not here anymore.”

Your sister was watching you carefully, like she was bracing for your reaction.

“He left?” Your voice came out flat, barely above a whisper. “Why? Where did he go? Did he go back to NCIT?”

Your sister sighed. “Honey, he won’t be going to NCIT anymore. Donghyuck went back to Korea. He is to finish his studies there. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’ll see him again.”

A laugh—bitter and humorless—escaped your lips before you could stop it. You waited for her to say something else, to clarify, but she didn’t. 

“So that’s it?” you asked, feeling the sting of it settle deeper. “He didn’t even wait for me to wake up?”

Your sister looked at you, her eyes full of sympathy, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. A suffocating ache built in your chest, and your breath hitched as you finally let yourself feel everything. The betrayal. The confusion. The pain. Tears spilled over, one after another, wetting your pillow. Your sister reached out to comfort you, but you pulled away, turning your face to the side, unable to face her, unable to face the reality of it.

“I wanna be alone,” you choked, your voice breaking. “Please. Just go.”

Your sister’s lips parted, but she said nothing. She rose to her feet and left quietly, closing the door behind her.

You were left alone with the silence of the room, the soft whirring of the machines, and the overwhelming regret of what you couldn’t change. The tears didn’t stop, but there was something strangely calming about the release. You cried for the things you didn’t say, for the things left unsaid, for the way everything had slipped through your fingers like sand.

It was stupid, really. You should have known better. You did know better. You were right all along, weren’t you? Love—whatever the hell that was—only ever ended in heartbreak. Yours, specifically. 

Your fingers clenched the blanket as you let out a shaky breath. Maybe if you had just been a little braver, if you had let yourself be more open, things wouldn’t have ended like this.

But that was wishful thinking. Because at the end of the day, Donghyuck had made his choice. And you were left here—again—trying to figure out how to pick up the pieces.

When you landed back home, the sight of familiar faces waiting at the airport nearly made you cry. Ningning, Karina, Giselle, Jaemin, and Renjun too. They spotted you the moment you stepped past security, their worried faces instantly breaking into smiles. Before you could react, Ningning threw her arms around you, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Oh my God, you have no idea how worried we were!” she exclaimed, squeezing you so tightly it was hard to breathe.

Karina was right behind her, arms crossed but eyes filled with relief. “You could’ve at least texted more, you know. ‘I’m alive’ doesn’t cut it.”

Giselle nodded in agreement, hands on her hips. “Seriously. We were two seconds away from hijacking a flight to Mykonos.”

Jaemin grinned, stepping forward and ruffling your hair like you were a kid. “Welcome back, troublemaker.”

Even Renjun was there, standing slightly behind the group with his usual composed expression. But when your eyes met, he gave you a small nod. “It’s good to see you.”

It was overwhelming, all of it—their presence, their concern, the way they made you feel like you truly belonged here. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down and forced a smile. “I missed you guys,” you said, voice soft but genuine.

“Duh.” Ningning pulled away, smacking your arm lightly. “Come on, let’s get you home. Your mom’s been cooking all day.”

The drive back was filled with laughter, inside jokes, and playful bickering—just like it always was. They didn’t know what had happened in Mykonos. None of them did except your sister. To them, this was just a trip gone slightly wrong, not a summer that had unraveled you. And maybe that was for the best.

Back home, your mother had prepared a warm meal, welcoming everyone inside like it was some kind of homecoming celebration. The house smelled of home-cooked food, the kind only your mother could make. Your mom appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel before pulling you into a hug. She held you for a few seconds longer than usual, her grip firm, like she needed to reassure herself that you were really here.

Dinner was loud, filled with laughter and stories. No one asked about Mykonos, about the accident, about him. It was as if the summer never happened.

But you knew better. It did happen. And though your heart still ached, you told yourself it was okay. Because Mykonos was beautiful—wild, messy, unforgettable. You would remember it like a fever dream, something distant yet vivid, lingering in the corners of your mind.

But would you ever go back? No. Some things weren’t worth reliving. A broken heart wasn’t worth it.

Still, you wouldn’t trade the scars. They were proof of something real—something fleeting, intense, and impossible to hold onto. And at the end of the day, that was enough.

To: LDH/LHC Though it didn’t last, I hope our paths cross again -x

[fin]

[ihopesocomic]

It's 2025 and it's been years since the last episode/update: can we as a species please move on from shit like MP? Every time I read about some new defense that MP fans are coming up with just so they can watch it guilt-free, I can only sit and think why? Even if the show was written decently: the creator is transphobic, she slapped multiple people (including a trans VA) with false allegations because her fweelings got hurt and she bailed rather than face criticism. Stop supporting her already.

I think the saddest part of all of this is Tribble doesn't even like her fans. So many creators in and out of the industry keep in contact with their fans because obviously without them, they wouldn't be where they're at. There's an innate gratefulness there. Tribble can't even be bothered to tell her fans that Season 2 is never happening, she's never making a comic, or whatever crumbs everyone is groveling for. I'm sure she'll be back if she needs some money from Makeship or whatever, with continuous months of no news. Is that someone who respects you? Is that someone who's worth your undying fealty?

I know a lot of her remaining fans are young teenagers who would rather watch a cartoon than read, but no one's forcing her to do a cartoon or nothing with her own content. She's already offered to write it as a book (like she also offered to do with COTW) but then she says she's only willing to do it if people subscribe to a Patreon, therefore getting fans' hopes up for no good reason. Whatever her reasons are, she certainly has enough drive to test the waters and see how far she can get by doing the least amount of work possible. Proof is in her community tab for the doubters who insist we're wrong.

Tribble always intended to leave because people were already openly criticizing her and seeing her for the person she truly was for nearly a year before we said or did anything. Because she's a thin-skinned coward and because MP wasn't raking in the opportunities she thought it would (who could've predicted this?). Her fans just don't want to accept this because 1) the mental gymnastics of blaming us for "driving her away" are too great to resist and 2) they don't actually care about what she did and actively play things down as opposed to us saying that her show isn't that great. God forbid.

You'd think that RJ having followed her work for years and us having years' worth of conversations with people who have worked for her on top of everything else out in the open would be sufficient evidence that we're not just making shit up. (Ironically, making up reasons to like/hate something is what these people excel at.)

Some have come to terms that Tribble just used them so she can get paid and bounce, but too many still have a vice grip on this embarrassing slop that only exists because Tribble has Warrior Cats views on Youtube. And since people confuse YT popularity with quality, well, we all know the ending to that sad story. Because of that mentality we get more slop like HH/HB.

The majority of these people have to make something up in their head to "defend" MP's writing, like quite literally all the "explanations" for characters' actions are 100% fabricated and was more effort than Tribble put into her own show, so how exactly do your headcanons cancel out anything that's there in front of your face? And these are the same people who have the temerity to say shows like Big Mouth and Velma are bad but MP and HH/HB are good, when MP and HH/HB are also offensive shoddily written dreck made by privileged individuals who don't care about you until they want more money from you.

And then people want to turn around and say IHS sucks because it's "not realistic" (even though we've never said we're trying to be realistic) or "just like Warrior Cats or TLK". Pick a real reason to not like our comic, I'm begging. If our comic was "just like Warrior Cats", hell they'd probably like it because it would have no gays and enough ableism to last them a quarter of a century, ha. But I'm clearly not interested in pandering to these smooth-brained goons whose highest standard for xenofiction is "no gays", if they can even get as far as opening so much as a Kindle or Audible app.

And I don't feel bad for saying this. Even other once-fans of MP can concur that current day MP stans are some of the most homophobic, transphobic, sexist, ableist, victim-blamey trash we've ever had the misfortune of giving the benefit of the doubt. (It's no wonder why they like the show so much because the characters - like Hover - enable this kind of atrocious behavior.) Quite a few of these testimonies are on our review alone. And I'm over it. The shit that's going on in the world has driven me to be exponentially less tolerant.

We now live in a point in time where being LGBT+ is considered a legit federal offense and we're just done. Some of you can piss and moan all you want when we say "no" and block you when 90% of your complaints about our comic concern it being LGBT+ and the other 10% is made-up or incorrect nonsensical bullshit that isn't worth writing on toilet paper. Why should we listen to you exactly? Why should we take everything out of this comic that - whether you like it or not - provides solace to people just to satisfy your bigotry that you try and hide behind a veil of pretentiousness? Get fucked. lol

And I am beyond tired having to keep explaining this to people who appear to not be used to the idea that maybe the thing they like has a ton of problems that far outweigh anything good about it. But then they go ahead and take it personally, because people are so chronically online, their identity is welded to "entertainment". Bot behavior, truly.

Even the existence of I Hope So is tainted, simply because MP was so indefensibly awful about queer/disabled representation. IHS shouldn't need to exist, but because of people like this it has to. Some people just want to read something that has animals, queer rep, and no ableism. But to some of these people, we may as well have killed their dog in front of them. We have seen people who have all but made it their life's mission to purposely misconstrue the whole comic. They should thank whatever space fairy they pray to that they're a bunch of nobodies whose only value is being a lolcow.

The best thing I can hope for these people is them moving the fuck on to literally anything else. They'd be happier for it, or less miserable at the very least. There has been so many good comics and cartoons to come out over the last 4 years. Maybe if people removed their head from their ass for two seconds, they'd manage to see some of it. - Cat

[senkuideas4all]

I’m sure you guys know about the movie “Flipped,”right? Or at least the concept of PersonA openly expressing their affections for PersonB, only to get shut down every time, and personB soon developing feelings once personA no longer likes them/isn’t as affectionate as they once were.

…

This troupe + Senku has so much potential—

PersonA should be someone who’s known Senku for an extremely long time, I think—maybe a neighbor or kindergarten classmate. He’s not someone who can be enticed by romance easily (or at all if we’re looking at a canonical standpoint. Thankfully this is fanfiction) so he’ll need a LOT of time and exposure for said person to grow on him.

I imagine Byakuya patiently waiting by the door for his son, only for Senku to come home after his first day of kindergarten with an irritable scowl on his face and another kid clinging onto him. Please, he was crying tears of joy once he found out that his stern son actually made a friend. His first friend!

PersonA probably squeezed their way in into every experiment and reading session. There was a day when Senku went home on his own (which he thought was suspicious and lonesome without a certain person clinging onto him and annoying him) and was greeted by a grinning Byakuya (which he also found suspicious). All the skepticism soon made sense once he entered his room and found the very person who wasn’t there to bother him a few minutes ago. Surprised and huffing out, he slams the door shut and makes his way towards his father who was startled by the noise.

As his son rambled on and on about what PersonA could possibly be doing in his room without his knowledge, Byakuya couldn’t help but grin even wider than he ever did when he noticed his son’s relieved expression. It probably wasn’t obvious to anybody else but him at the time, but the child was clearly disappointed upon his return home.

Senku doesn’t know it yet and won’t know about it until years and years later, but the child upstairs was worth tens of billions and meant so much more than his son could possibly imagine. He just hopes his son won’t take them for granted.

I envision Senku labelling PersonA as an annoying and persistent hinderance (with a few other quirks that he’s noticed over the years) but would still treat fairly…somewhat well. Someone who he occasionally pays special care and attention to only because “my old man likes them a lot and would give me an earful and take my equipment away if he hears I don’t treat them good enough.”

Maybe he can reminisce about PersonA during and after the petrifaction since in all his years of knowing that ‘bothersome’ person, this was probably the furthest and longest time they’ve been apart. Now that he’s given the space that he’d always wanted, he starts to wonder if it was always this quiet. When was the last time he had such a thick, deafening silence? He never really noticed it in the first few years he’s been in the darkness of the petrification—he was too busy counting every passing second and thinking of what could’ve possibly lead to this situation to have such thoughts.

He’d always fantasize about complete, utter silence to ‘focus better’, but was soon disappointed that it wasn’t as great as he’d expected. It wasn’t until 3,700 years of counting that he finally broke out of the stone. As he’s roasting his dinner one night, his mind drifts off. Now that he thinks about it, he never once thought of PersonA within the first month he escaped that stone prison. Survival was the priority, but to not think about the person who’s been with you the most in your entire life was…strange? He picked up the skewer and stares at his meal. They used to always insist on making his meals. Ever since Byakuya left Japan, they’d constantly check up on him to make sure he’s eating anything aside from ramen…or just eating anything at all.

Who knew doing all this on his own could be so different? He used to believe that his life would still flow the way it did whether or not they were there by his side, but now, even eating felt odd without a certain someone talking and filling in the silence.

—————

I actually spewed all that up?Unfortunately, that’s all I could put together with my dwindling energy. I can’t decide on whether or not Senku’s realization of his feelings will actually occur pre-pertification/post-petrification/no-petrification au. I did mention about post-petrification(albeit sloppily)but that’s only because I don’t have much interesting or unique scenarios for the other two. I’ll leave that to the other writers out there. I’m so disappointed with my post-petrification word vomit so don’t let that part hinder your own ideas about the troupe.I might also request this to any willing author if I find one. If you do, do me a favor and request for a Flipped-inspired fic? I want to read their take on the troupe <3.

[theambitiouswoman]

How do I overcome self-esteem issues in dating?

Growing up, I don't have pretty privilege like some of my girl friends do, and guys normally would not approach me because I come across as "intimidating" (I have a RBF). I've approached guys I had crushes on at school but I always get rejected, they say that I'm better as a friend than a romantic partner.

I thought my luck finally turned around when I met my ex on a dating app. He checked off many things on my list e.g., successful career, financially independent, exercises regularly and takes care of himself. But after several months I realized that he only dated me because he was lonely and it was convenient for him. He didn't want to commit to me when I asked for something serious. I was crushed. I felt like I was undeserving of love and am convinced that I'll never find someone who will accept me as a partner because I'm not my type's type.

I'm trying to pick myself back up again. I started going to the gym, doing proper skincare, eating healthier, and dressing up better to feel good about myself. But I still find myself secretly hoping for the validation of successful and attractive men when I'm in social settings, as if that proves that I am an equal or "at their level".

I'm aware that this mindset is toxic but I'm struggling to find an effective way to grow out of it. Appreciate your thoughts on this.

Hi beautiful girl

I just want to say how much I admire your self awareness and the effort you’re putting into bettering yourself. It makes you stand out in the best way 🤍 It’s so hard to be dedicated to growth when we don’t feel our best. Use this as a building block for your confidence in case no one has ever told you.

Now, let’s talk about this whole “pretty privilege” thing. Yes, some girls might have an easier time getting attention, but attention and genuine connection are two very different things. You’re not looking for surface level validation—you’re looking for someone who truly sees you & trust me, that’s worth way more than a few extra DMs from guys who just like a pretty face who want you for bad reasons. Pretty privilege is not just about looks and I hate how much the internet emphasizes it. Because pretty privilege is also about your confidence and self respect. How tall you stand. How you put yourself together. How you treat others. I see countless girls who aren’t wildly attractive by societal standards who get treated with “pretty privilege” and you know why? Because they are confident.

I totally get the frustration of feeling like you’re “not your type’s type,” but that’s just a story your past experiences have made you believe—it’s not a fact. First of all, men don’t date who they want, they date at the level of their self esteem. I’ve said this many times before and I’ll repeat it. Men literally never know what they want. Anything you hear men say that they do, it really means the opposite. I’ve never seen this not be true. Because men will always cling to a woman who makes them FEEL, since men have so much trouble with emotion. The right person will find you incredibly attractive, not just in looks but in energy, presence, and personality. You already have so much to offer & you don’t need to prove your worth to anyone, especially men who don’t recognize it. So instead of worrying about if a guy likes you, ask yourself if you like him. Learning to disconnect from the approval of others is important for confidence. And if you approve of yourself, you don’t care what other people think.

You’re already doing amazing things for yourself—the gym, skincare, eating well, dressing up—and that’s exactly where your focus should be. Instead of seeking validation, shift the energy into being the woman you admire. And when you walk into a room, don’t wonder if successful men will notice you—ask yourself, Do I even find them impressive? (promise most aren’t lol — you’re going to have to trust me on this) Do they bring the same value to the table that I do? That little mindset shift will change everything.

Become your own biggest fan. Ask yourself, If no one could see or comment on what I do, would I still want to do it? If the answer is yes, that’s self approval. Unfollow or distance yourself from anything that makes you feel like you need to prove your worth. Instead of trying to impress others, focus on whether they impress you. The most magnetic people are unapologetically themselves. Thats incredibly hot. And everyone is drawn to a woman whose life revolves around herself. Seriously that’s all you’re missing!!! You’re doing so great!

Decenter everyone and center yourself!

You’re not behind, you’re not lacking and you’re absolutely deserving of a love that feels easy, mutual, and aligned. Keep growing, keep glowing and trust that the right people will come into your life because of the confidence and self worth you’re building—not because of how much you chase external validation.

Love you, most of these guys don’t deserve you anyway. Especially with all of the work you’re doing for yourself. Too good for most. A man needs to earn you and work twice as hard to keep you. And men love working for something babygirl.

[aandvarchaeology]

I’m studying archaeology at the moment and I didn’t get into my university’s field school this year as I have not super good grades from being chronically ill and having three knee surgeries while at university so far and its just mentally upsetting. But I’m still dedicated to doing archaeology and I was wondering what advise the two of you had for students? Love reading about what you both do btw

Hi Anon, Mod V answering here :D. Mod A is currently on sick leave and will add his thoughts as soon as he is better. First of all - thank you for the compliment! And second of all - that really sucks, and I'm so sorry for you. Also, I hope I can even give you any good tips, because I have to preface the following advice segment by saying that I don't have any experience with university systems outside of Germany (besides what I learned from tumblr osmosis, which is not a lot), and the fact that you mentioned that you have a MINIMUM GRADE REQUIREMENT to get into a FIELD SCHOOL is a pretty big clue that you're not based in Germany. Because we don't do either of that shit here.

(click on read more for advice I hope is maybe a little bit relevant to your situation)

If you were in Germany, my advice would be pretty simple: Go to your university's disability rep (because you qualify for accomodations [I hope that's the correct word, in German "Nachteilsausgleich", literally compensation for disadvantages] both for the chronic illness and the bum knee), milk your situation for all it's worth, then put in a request for a semester off due to health reasons, during that semester do everything you can to heal up your knee and maybe revise some of your notes and do some reading, come back in 6 months stronger and with better grades. Which you wouldn't need to get into a German field school, because field basics are part of your university curriculum here and your uni organizes teaching excavations that you maybe need a passing grade in Grabungstechnik [lit. excavation technique, I'm sorry I don't know what the subject equivalent in English would be] for, but that's usually it. Also, take advantage of university mental health counseling.

But, I'm guessing (because most Engish speaking countries have MUCH higher tuition costs that here) that taking a semester off isn't an option. Regardless, some of my advice stays the same, starting with: Know your rights. Here in Germany, if you have a disability (defined as any sort of illness or condition that keeps you from functioning at average person levels for longer than 6 months), universities are legally obligated to get you some kind of help for that. If you have dyslexia, you're entitled to more time on exams. If you're a wheelchair user, you're entitled to lectures in rooms that you can actually reach. If you have migraines, you're exempt from compulsory attendance. You get it. I would very very strongly recommend finding out if your country and/or your university have something similar.

Even if there isn't - tell your profs that you're having difficulties. You don't have to go into detail, you don't have to reveal anything personal, but showing up to office hours, saying something along the lines of "due to illness that makes it hard for me to do X I struggle with Y aspect of the coursework", and asking for help (I would recommend going into the conversation with some reasonable idea what that help could look like, for example if you're hard of hearing asking the prof to speak facing the classroom and keep a seat near the front free for you) will often either get you an accomodation or an extra assignment to boost your grade (if you struggle with something like chronic fatigue or depression and extra assignments would make your grade worse, tell them if they offer you any). If there is a such thing as a Fachstudienberatung [lit. Subject-specific advisor, basically someone who you can go to who will help you with admin stuff like exam credit and your schedule but not a secretary, again, I really don't know how universities outside of Germany work] at your university, that may also be someone worth talking to.

My personal, subjective advice for studying with chronic illness and/or disability in general: Make peace with the fact that it will most likely take you a lot longer than your peers to reach the same degrees. I've been studying for my bachelor's for five years (not joking). That doesn't mean I'm going to be or am a worse archaeologist than anybody else. It simply means it took me longer. And once you have your degree, I promise no employer on earth will care. (How do I know this? I spent 3 days at the beginning of October last year being repeatedly told by about 50 professionals from any and every field imaginable that nobody cared that THEY took 2-7 years longer than they should have to get their bachelor's/master's/doctorate.) It's also important not to compare yourself to others doing it faster. I know this is hard, but again, it really doesn't matter (except on a financial level) (which, I realize, may be a lot bigger thing for you than it was/is for me).

Try to take advantage of any accomodations offered to you, even if you're embarrased to do so. Try to make as many friends as you can, involve yourself in as many clubs and organizations as you can. University contacts can become business contacts in a few years, and even if not - in Germany we say "geteiltes Leid ist halbes Leid". Dealing with hard things, as studying with a chronic illness is, is easier when you're not alone. Also: Do everything you can to show your profs that you're trying. Go to office hours, take part in class discussions, ask questions even if you think they're dumb, do your absolute best for assignments. Even if your grades are bad, if you show you're trying your absolute hardest, your profs will want to give you a leg up. I know you're probably already doing all that you can. The key word is "show" - literally go to office hours and say that you are. Make yourself visible.

Now, for my advice for field work with chronic illness, a knee that you needed multiple surgeries on, and grades so bad you didn't get into field school. First of all, unless you're literally on your last semester and you won't graduate if you don't do it, I wouldn't even think about field school at the moment. I hope I'm not ripping the proverbial bandaid off too harshly when I say that, for excavating, a knee that is in any way not healthy is bad. There is a lot of kneeling involved in digging. That is NOT to say that you should give up your field ambitions, but it IS to say that, when you do go into the field, you should a) be VERY sure your knee is healed, and b) be EXTREMELY careful not to hurt yourself again while working. Where- and whenever you do your field work qualifications, make sure the person in charge knows about your knee condition and lets you take breaks. If they don't do that, leave.

That being said, field work, even commercial field work, isn't all digging. If you do your field school and find that digging is something that just isn't sustainable long term, there are options. Archaeology is steadily working toward integrating more and more geophysical prospecting methods, like geoelectrics and geomagnetics, and lots (if not most) of commercial archaeological companies (at least here in Germany) are integrating them as well. 3D scanning technologies for heritage conservation are gaining more and more importance. So are mapping techniques with ArcGIS, QGIS and CAD-programms. Just to name a few things. And even outside of field work, archaeology is a pretty broad field. My advice for digging would be - make sure your knee is as healed as possible, try it, but don't "hang your heart on it", as we say in Germany.

Beside digging, I would STRONGLY encourage you to do a little bit of career orientation. I'm not saying this because I think you "won't make it" digging (also I do not think that), this is not "just" advice for you or any other chronically ill or disabled student of archaeology reading this, I truly believe this is one of the most important things you can possibly do during your university career. In Germany, you have to do you career orientation yourself unless you're really lucky and your university offers a seminar on structures in archaeological work and teaching or something, I don't know how it is at your university - if they have a service or a job fair or anything like that, USE IT. If not, there may be conferences - in Germany we have ARCHAEOworks and ARCHAEOskills. (ANY GERMAN ARCHAEOLOGY STUDENTS READING THIS: GEH DA HIN UND NIMM DEINE KOMMILITON*INNEN MIT.) Google them, find them, go there, talk to people. I cannot overstate how important this is.

Another thing to consider is that you can get field work experience through other means than a field school. (I'm talking about internships.) (I'm also really hoping that there isn't some sort of law against interning on archaeological excavations where you live.) The pros of internships are, of course:

You don't have to pay for them.

In fact, YOU might get paid!

Most archaeological firms don't care about your grades, they care about cheap labour and that's what you are as an intern.

You're much more likely to get insights into what actual day-to-day work looks like than at a field school or a teaching excavation.

You have an opportunity to establish first business contacts.

If you do a good job a company might make you a job offer, whether that be now or for when you graduate.

There is a lot more variety to choose from than there is in field schools (Do an internship at a museum! Do an internship at a conservation lab! Whatever takes your fancy!).

Depending on your university, an internship might count towards your degree as an alternative to field school.

In Germany, there is also the option to just...work at an archaeological excavation, either as a volunteer or as a working student. Both ways, you even get paid. I've heard through the grape vine that this may not be an option in some other countries, but hey - asking doesn't hurt!

Lastly, I'm going to take a wild stab in the dark and guess that you might be...U.S. American? and tag @chaotic-archaeologist, who can surely tell you much more about managing field schools and disability in the U.S. than I can, and might be so friendly as to correct me if I advised you to do anything illegal above. Any archaeologists from other English-speaking countries who have experience with these problems, please also feel free to add on! I wish you the best of luck, Anon, and I truly hope Archaeology will work out for you. Keep us updated if you want, we would love to hear how it's going from time to time!

[lynnie-s3all]

Do you think i should continue...?

Ambience.

Guest 1337 x reader.

(platonic.)

"Hey... (name)."

Guest came up to you when you were out at night, stargazing. You thought about going back to your old home, the very place you belong. But now you're stuck in the cabin with other people trying to outrun a killer in every round.

You sat down on the dock outside and put both of your feet on the water. It's really soothing to just relax and try to get your mind to wander off instead of thinking about... home.

Even if you miss the place.

"Yes? Is there anything you need? Or do you just want to relax with me?"

"I guess relaxing here isn't what i usually do, but of course."

He sat down on the dock right next to you. You saw him looked down on himself. Maybe he was tired? You're not sure about it but you ask about a different question.

"Do you... miss going back to the place you belong? Because i do. Ever since we came up here for no reason, just to survive a bunch of killers. I think it's pretty tiring so to say myself. "

He sighs back once he heard the question you were asking, and feeling the guilt and sorrow after he was teleported here. He really misses his own family. It felt lonely without them.

"Yeah... I pretty much do. I miss my own family. I miss my wife. But i still kept our picture together. I truly miss my own home after the war... happened."

You couldn't help but felt really bad for this man. He did suffered too much, but you just pat him on the back as you couldn't really comfort someone properly. I know it's not much of it all, but you're trying your best to help.

"I know how that felt... Atleast you still have the others. Maybe if this whole thing was over, we can go back. I hope."

You heard small sobs coming out from him.

Even you too, have small tears coming out of your own eyes.

You truly miss your own home. And maybe... You will go back. One day.

(Btw if you want me to get several ideas of some sombre / angst core. Listen to yume 2kki. It's worth the shot. i do this most of the time.)

[hippolotamus]

Can’t sleep and having Thoughts™️ about Self Loathing Tommy. Hot young firefighter who wants to fit in, but he knows he’s Different. And he knows exactly why. It’s the reason why he went to the seedy bar on the other side of town last night. The reason he let some nameless twink suck his dick in the bathroom. Why he took home a different nameless man to fuck him- someone bigger, sturdier, who could get the job done. Why he’s giving the guy cab fare and sending him on his way. Because now he needs to crawl in the scalding hot shower, with its piss poor water pressure, and scrub all of that off. Until his skin is pink and raw, and every miserable ounce of shame is washed down the drain.

He steps out when the water runs cold, dries himself off, and changes into fresh sleep clothes. Now that he’s clean, he strips the bed - comforter and all - to replace the sheets and blankets. Finally he climbs in for what turns out to be a restless five hours. Everything haunts him when he closes his eyes. Who he is. What he’s done. What he’s about to do.

There’s a woman at dispatch. She’s warm, friendly, great hair, always seems to know what to say. They’re going for their first date later today. He doesn’t like to pin a lot of his rom com hopes on his personal relationships. But they’ve talked a lot and she has potential. She could be something. The one even. He hopes. Because he’s tired of searching and being the odd man out.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes and stares at the ceiling.

“God. I’m pretty sure you aren’t real. At least not the way everyone says. But in case you are, I need a favor.” He pauses, gathering his words while choking back tears. “Please, if you never do anything else, just let her be the one to fix me. Let me have this one thing. It’s all I need, I swear. Just take this away and I’ll never ask for anything else.”

He doesn’t know if his plea actually went anywhere. He’ll deal with the fallout later. But Nonna believed in all this repent and salvation bullshit. So it has to be worth something.

Right?

[f-imaginings]

It’s Valentine’s Day! Please can you share something cute like a headcanon or something with billford? Like did bill and ford celebrate Valentine’s Day sometime in kmky? Just anything! We need something for this romantic holiday!

Just for you I wrote a little scene in my notes app in my phone that got a bit out of hand and ended up being its own short story haha. I hope you enjoy a pre-betrayal KMKY Billford scene that may have happened on February 14th 🤷 who can say (certainly not the author lmao)

Enjoy! 🥳🥳🥳❤️❤️❤️❤️

In Fiddleford's absence, the engineer having taken yet more of Stanford's egregiously given "annual leave" to go celebrate February 14th with his wife in Palo Alto, Bill was left with two options.

Annoy Sixer into making him a lavish late breakfast or capitulate and join the scientist at the Diner for the travesty known as "brunch".

"You see it's a portmanteau of breakfast and lunch, which deserves its own separate menu for some reason." Stanford explained in the car, his six fingered hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel as he drove.

Arms crossed sullenly in the passenger seat, Bill turned his nose up at the concept as a whole. "That's not creating something new, that's just smashing two words together. Anyone can do that. Watch. Deflammestrate."

Stanford blinked and tilted his head as he pulled into the parking lot, mulling that one over. An amused smile tugged at the edges of his lips as he cast an indulgent look at his muse.

"Deflammestrate."

Putting on a stuffy academic voice, Bill postured. "You see, it's a portmanteau of defenestrate and flammable. Comes in handy for throwing people out of windows as they spontaneously combust."

Scoffing a brief laugh, Ford parked and undid his seatbelt. "Well. Let's hope it catches on."

"I'm sure it will." Bill insisted pettily, undoing his own seatbelt. "Like wildfire."

"I'm sure." Ford laughed indulgently as he got out of the car, only to pause, his expression souring rapidly as he observed the onslaught of pink decor that covered Greasy's exterior. "This holiday makes me want to deflammestrate myself. Dear god, could it be any more garish?"

Bill got out of the car and slammed the door shut, surveying the pink hearts and paper cherubs glued onto the windows of the diner curiously, then back to Stanford as if to measure his response.

"Well, the hearts are hardly anatomically accurate if that's your issue. Missing a few key ventricles there. What's the big deal? Isn't this just more inane human pageantry?"

Rubbing his hand over his stubble, Ford debated getting back in the car and going somewhere else. Somewhere less 'in your face' obnoxious about the holiday season.

Was 'brunch' worth this?

"Alright, fine. I suppose I'll just have to grit my teeth and bear it." Ford shook his head, muttering to himself. "Not like there's any other diners in this town. Come on, let's find a booth."

The bell above the door clanged as they entered and received a perfunctory greeting from old Mrs Wentworth behind the counter, making their way to their customary seats at the end booth.

This booth, and indeed all the booths were covered in an excess of pink heart shaped confetti and glitter, and someone had suspended paper cherub decorations from the ceiling above each booth with string, adding to the holiday spirit.

Sliding into the booth, Bill continued to watch curiously as Ford scowled at the cartoonish eyes of the cherub hung above their booth, snatching it down and folding it in half to avert its judgemental stare.

Reaching for the brunch menu, Ford grumbled to himself as he scanned through the page, his bizarre reaction piquing Bill's interest.

"What are you having?" Ford asked bluntly as he swept confetti off the table derisively, his sour mood delighting his partner.

"Oh, gee, I guess I'll have whatever it is that crawled up your butt and died today." Bill teased giddily.

"What?" Ford blinked at him, jarred from his humbug behaviour.

Flicking a handful of confetti at Stanford, Bill laughed when he flinched, the paper hearts stuck in his fluffy brown hair. "Boo!"

"Bill, stop it!" Ford complained, immediately moving to brush the confetti off him, casting an irritable look his way. "Can't I order a meal without being accosted by this holiday?"

"Not until you tell me why you hate it so much." Bill pried. "Unless you were a gang member shot dead in Chicago in 1929, miraculously reincarnated as a pocket protector wearing nerd you should have no reason to act this grumpy."

Stanford winced, before waving his hand, explaining. "Valentine's day isn't - well you could say it's not my favourite holiday."

Ripping the paper top off one of the sugar packets, Bill tipped the sugar in his mouth, gesturing with his hand as he prompted. "And you could say more on that."

"Why do you want to know?" Ford's shoulders hunched defensively.

"I thought this was a thing we're doing now, where you ask me invasive questions and I get to do the same." Bill shrugged, chewing on the sugar as he spoke. "Like that question you asked me this morning?"

"When I asked your favourite colour?" Ford squinted, trying to piece together Bill's logic.

"Yeah! That one! Super invasive! That's like me asking you what your favourite letter of the alphabet is! Totally redundant."

"My favourite letter is S." Ford replied cageily. "And you didn't even answer that question this morning."

"And now you're not answering mine." Bill crossed his arms, feigning disappointment. "You see. We're not getting anywhere at this rate. May as well just give up now."

Tensing his jaw stubbornly, Stanford raised his eyebrow. "Fine, I'll tell you why I hate Valentine's day so much if you tell me something about yourself."

Bill opened his mouth to say something blatantly obvious but Ford cut him off, too familiar with him to allow that.

"Something genuine. Something I don't already know."

Bill's mouth snapped shut and pressed into a thin line as he pondered that ultimatum before he rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward in the booth.

"Fine. But you go first."

"Fine." Ford agreed, but his disclosure was interrupted by Stacey's sudden arrival.

"Happy Valentine's day y'all, can I take your order?"

"Oh, right, yes. Do I have to order off the brunch menu or can I just get the big breakfast?" Ford asked, peering at the menus on the table.

"Brunch menu is Suzie's idea. You're so lucky she's not here, else you'd be gettin' your meal with a side of a dozen roses, Mr Mystery." Stacey scoffed as she jotted down Ford's order. "And is that the chilli fries, steak sandwich and an unhealthy amount of mustard on the side for you as well."

"You don't know me food wench. Don't pretend that you do." Bill narrowed his yellow slitted eyes at Stacey contrarily.

Stacey then looked to Stanford, her dry expression speaking to her years of customer service experience, able to weather any storm.

"Also two teas, if you could." Ford added with a meek smile.

"AND seven milkshakes!" Bill added imperiously.

"No." Ford countered, reaching across the table to lower Bill's hand.

"Six milkshakes!" Bill haggled.

"One milkshake max." Stanford insisted.

"You drive a hard bargain IQ." Bill shook his head scornfully. "Too cruel."

"You guys are cute." Stacey observed, popping her pink bubblegum before jotting the order down with flourish. "I'll be right out with that milkshake."

As Stacey walked away, Bill turned his attention back to Stanford, blinking expectantly at him.

"You were saying."

Shaking off Stacey's comment Ford clenched his jaw and resigned himself to telling his story.

"It's not that I didn't get attention on Valentine's Day. That wasn't the issue. I mean, the girls at the chess club tried their luck with anyone and they weren't exactly subtle." Ford winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "Between Stanley's loud boasting about his conquests and the general scrutiny from family members that comes along with the holiday, it felt like there wasn't an option to go about your day unaccosted if you didn't want to partake in all this frivolity. It's not a holiday for scientists. It's a day where people throw all logic out the window and give in to their baser instincts."

"Uhuh." Bill nodded, tilting his head to the side as he swiped his tongue over his teeth, licking sugar from his gums. "Sure. What's the real reason?"

Stanford blanched and leaned back in his chair, his chin rearing back into his neck.

"I don't know what you -"

"Don't try to kid me Sixer. I like to think I know you better than that. If it were just the principle of the thing ticking you off you wouldn't be acting like cupid here murdered your firstborn." Bill pointed out, lidding his eyes at Ford. "This holiday doesn't just offend your sensibilities, it's hurt you somehow."

Crossing his arms, Ford sat with his shoulders bunched up around his ears contentiously, stubbornly silent until Stacey returned with their order.

"Here you go, your milkshake, two teas, the big breakfast and the usual monstrosity. I'll come back with a dessert menu when you're done."

Bill watched her retreat and shook his head, before turning back to face Ford, watching him push his food around on his plate.

Reaching forward to snag his hash brown, Bill made it clear through his continued silent eye contact that he wanted an answer.

Pursing his lips, Ford sucked in a deep breath before exhaling loudly and reaching for his cutlery.

"Cathy Crenshaw." Cutting into his sausage and stacking scrambled egg and mushrooms onto his fork, Stanford took a bite, continuing to speak as he chewed. "She ruined the holiday for me. She was the most popular girl in my high school. Blonde, head of the cheer squad, vivacious. I should have been more suspicious when she started being nice to me but I thought she just wanted homework help, or a study partner. I thought she was being sincere."

"It was a set up?" Bill asked, piling chilli onto his steak sandwich and lifting the dripping concoction to his mouth.

"For public humiliation." Ford nodded, making another carefully curated forkful of food, slicing into the grilled tomato and crispy bacon. "She sent me a Valentine's card, instructing me to meet her under the bleachers. I didn't tell Stanley. I thought he'd make fun of me, although in hindsight I probably should have told him. He always could spot a con from a mile away."

"What did she do?" Bill asked, chewing on his chilli steak sandwich messily.

"Her friends were in the bleachers above us. They weren't the most inventive bullies. Jocks and cheerleaders mostly so given their respective IQ their humour catered to the lowest common denominator." Ford recounted, chewing his food and hardly tasting it. "They couldn't touch my academic prowess because the school valued that, and since Stanley brought knuckle dusters to school one time, physical bullying was out, so they took aim at the obvious."

Bill's brow furrowed, confused at what the obvious could be if the bullies weren't just jealous of Sixer's IQ.

Ford looked up at Bill's expression then back to his plate, his hands clenching around his knife and fork.

"They poured hot dogs down on me from the bleachers. Hot dogs and hot dog water. The smell didn't wash out of my hair properly for a week."

When Bill continued to appear perplexed, Ford set his cutlery down and flexed his hands in the air in front of him.

"Hot dogs look like fingers. I did say they weren't the most inventive."

The outrage that crossed Bill's features then was a true sight to behold. It was beautiful (despite the chilli on Bill's chin), Ford thought, suddenly wistful for someone who would have been outraged on his behalf in the past, wishing he met Bill sooner.

"To this day I can't stomach the smell of hot dogs." Ford remarked with a shrug, as if this memory hadn't coloured his opinion of February 14th. "That's why I'm not fond of the holiday."

"Well, did you ever get back at them?" Bill asked indignantly, wiping his face with a napkin.

"They say success is the best revenge."

"What, have they never heard of anthrax before? What about a pipe bomb? A good old fashioned Molotov cocktail? What about napalm?" Bill gesticulated wildly as he spoke. "Nothing says successful like immolating your enemies. How 'bout a little deflammestration, huh?"

"While I've definitely thought of it -" Ford laughed, and tipped his head forward. "And now I have this wonderful new portmanteau to describe that grisly outcome, thank you for that, I just think - what's the point? They've moved on with their lives. I certainly have, and there's no point dwelling on it any more than I already have to. I just want to pretend it never happened."

Bill stared at Ford, as if judging his sincerity here, before scowling and pushing aside his empty plate.

"Fine, but they don't get to take this day away from you. If anything you should enjoy this day twice as much, just to spite them!" Bill declared, shaking his fist in the air for emphasis.

"A novel idea." Ford raised one eyebrow skeptically. "Maybe I would if I ever had someone inclined to celebrate it with me, assuming the saccharine nature of the holiday doesn't give us some sort of congenital heart disease merely by partaking."

Bill pondered this, before he reached across the table grabbing Ford's hand. "I'll celebrate it with you. I'm great at spiting things. You're not due for a heart attack until you're 92 and I'm not even sure if this body processes sugar the same way you meatsacks do. It can't be that hard, right?"

Ford blinked at Bill then looked around the Diner cautiously, flexing his six fingers around Bill's hand.

"Really?"

"Sure. What does being a Valentine entail? What do I have to do?" Bill asked expectantly, sitting upright in his chair.

"Well, usually two people would share a meal together somewhere out in public." Ford explained, looking around the diner now, noticing all the other couples boothed up just like they were.

"Well my meal's already gone, but it looks like Stink Eye put two straws in my milkshake. I'm willing to share but it's gotta be a 60/40 split. Maybe 70/30 since you cheated me out of the other six milkshakes." Bill haggled.

"I'm honestly surprised you've never had a stomach ache." Ford laughed, sliding the milkshake between them and fiddling with the straw. "I don't think a human appetite could stomach that much dairy without consequences."

"I haven't had a stomach ache YET but if someone let me get the other six milkshakes maybe we'd get somewhere."

"Just drink your milkshake." Ford laughed, taking a sip, only for Bill to grasp the other straw and start furiously sucking, unwilling to give up his 70/30 split.

Over by the counter, Stacey shook her head at the two of them and popped her bubblegum, rolling her eyes.

Typical Valentine's Day nonsense. Next year she's taking the day off. Valentine's day in customer service is the worst.

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