#if i want to buzz all my hair off it will take a few years to grow back to an interesting length
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Sittin'
Joel Miller x F!Babysitter Reader No outbreak Joel Miller AU - Words: 10k
Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI
You're working your way through medical school, supporting yourself by taking the occasional babysitting gig. One local single Dad needs someone to look after his 10 year old daughter Sarah on nights when he's late back from the jobsite. And it's all fine and good until your neglectful boyfriend decides to crash the party. Warnings: small age gap (Joel is 32, reader is in medical school), reader is babysitting Sarah as a side hustle to support her studies, Sarah is cute, reader has a shit boyfriend, Joel is trying really hard to resist, exhibitionism, thigh-riding, praise, dirty talk, thigh-humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, general defiling of a perfectly good granite countertop, Joel has opinions about how a woman should be treated as is not afraid to demonstrate them.
A/N: My attempts at writing PWP almost always end up like 10k lol. Whatever, I like a good slow burn. If you enjoy, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you - Freddie x
It was a hot night, the latest in a long line. You knew you were lucky getting to spend some of your evenings over at the Millers, simply because it meant you got to sit under Mr Miller’s air conditioner, the box wedged firm into the window in the living room, little droplets of water condensing and running down the pane of glass underneath it. You’d put a dishtowel down to protect the carpet.
You knew you were lucky, too, because once Sarah went off to bed you could spread your books over Mr Miller’s kitchen table, listening to the buzzing of the fridge as you tried to memorise the functions of the lobes in the brain. In class, your biomedicine professor had blown up balloons and handed out sharpies, inviting her students to draw the lobes in the right place, and yours had popped when you pressed too hard on the occipital lobe, and your lab partner had laughed and said that it was ironic, but you couldn’t figure it: the motor cortex would have been ironic, this was just startling.
You cracked your neck, rolling your shoulders and looking over to the clock on the wall. Nearly 10:30 PM. Mr Miller would be coming back soon.
Sarah was a good kid, and some nights she stayed up to ‘help’ you study, mostly by pointing to pictures in your textbooks and asking you to explain them to her. She’d hated the full-page coloured illustration of the eye, but had been fascinated by the heart, trailing her finger along the arteries, into the chambers, tracing the pathway in and out again. You’d make a cardiologist of her, yet.
Tonight, she’d only made it to twenty minutes past eight, her eyes growing heavy as she turned the pages of your book. This one didn’t have as many pictures, and you could sense her fatigue in the stuffy air.
‘What kind of doctor do you want to be?’ she’d asked, and you’d pulled your hair up off your neck to try and get some air on your skin. You weren’t sure how to explain it without sounding gruesome, without giving her nightmares. She was only 10.
‘When people have emergencies and they have to go to the hospital right away, they need to see a doctor to patch them back up again…’ you’d said, and she’d stared at you with a tiresome expression on her face.
‘I’m not a baby,’ she said, disapproving. You smiled at her.
‘Trauma surgeon,’ you replied. She nodded her head, deeming your answer satisfactory, and taking herself up the stairs to bed.
She was one of the easiest kids you’d ever babysat for, and over the years you’d racked up quite a roster. You’d started in high school, first saving up enough for the prom dress right in the storefront window, and then later keeping yourself fed during your undergrad. When you’d moved to Austin you’d rented a studio apartment in the back garden of a little old lady, a woman who had revealed herself to be an excellent cook if militant about her hydrangeas. You’d letterboxed the neighbourhood and picked up a few odd jobs but nothing lasting, until the evening you’d got a call from a very frantic Mr Miller, who was so beside himself he only asked how quick you could get there and didn’t even ask about your rates.
It turned out Mr Miller got caught up at the jobsite some nights, staying back later than he expected with his little brother to finish framing, or guttering, or wiring. He was running out of favours with his neighbours, he’d explained, and Sarah was still too little to feed herself. You hadn’t minded, his deep southern drawl doing something to you even over the phone, such that you found yourself cancelling plans just to go and sit on his couch that very evening, textbook over your knees.
Some nights with Sarah tucked up fast asleep you’d stand and stare at the pictures of the two of them, her holding up a soccer trophy nearly twice her size, him standing with his hand in his pocket, his other over the shoulders of a younger man you assumed was Tommy. If you were feeling particularly bold, or were procrastinating especially hard, you’d extend a finger and run them up and down the strings of Joel’s guitar, resting sentinel against the windowsill. You imagined his fingers pushing into the fretboard, the strings indenting the flesh.
It wasn’t even that he was handsome, although he definitely was. He was a young father, doing it almost entirely alone, and on any other man that would have made for grumpy, for overly tired, for entitled. On Mr Miller it made for kindness, for a nurturing type of strength, corded tight under his skin. For a single dad always thinking about his daughter, only ever wanting the best for her. For a man focussed on doing right for his family, small as it was.
You rolled your shoulders, the pre-frontal cortex just about beating you for the night. Just as you were wondering if the Millers kept any ice cream in the freezer, you heard the key in the front door. You listened as Joel followed the same routine, first toeing off his boots, letting out a little grunt as the second one hit the floor. You heard him huff as he stretched his back, rolling his hips in a little circle to try and get some stretch into them, before dropping his keys on the table and padding, surprisingly light on his socked feet, into the kitchen.
‘Hey, Sweetheart,’ he said, his pet name for you emerging on only the second time you’d sat for him and still, even after this many months, causing your stomach to do a little flipper.
‘Evening, Mr Miller,’ you said, and he tutted at you, moving over to the fridge and extracting a beer.
‘Told ya not to call me that,’ he muttered, but you could see the grin behind it. ‘How was my girl tonight?’
‘Perfect, as always,’ you said, smiling at him as he poured you a glass of sweet tea from the jug in the fridge without bothering to ask if you wanted any. You accepted it gratefully, suddenly noticing how dry your throat had become.
‘She’s a good kid,’ he said. He sat down, heavy, in the chair opposite you. The ceiling lamp buzzed above you both, and the light bounced off the fine sheen of sweat accumulating on his arms, on his cheeks. He glowed, even if it was under a layer of exhaustion.
‘You look tired, Mr Miller,’ you said, and he cocked a little grin.
‘You sayin’ I look like shit, Sweetheart?’ he asked.
‘No, never,’ you said, instantly regretting how quickly, how fervently, you had responded. He continued to grin at you, lopsided, the dimple on his right cheek popping out to greet you.
‘What is it tonight?’ he asked, and you held up your book to him. ‘The bio-mech-an-ics-of-thought: phys-ee-ol-o-gee of the brain,’ he intoned, before letting out a low whistle. ‘I don’t know how you do it,’ he said.
‘It’s interesting,’ you defended, unsure why. ‘So long as there are diagrams,’ you added.
‘So that’s where the magic happens?’ he asked, gesturing to the illustrated image of the brain in the centre of the page you had been working from.
‘This is where thought happens,’ you nodded. ‘Kind of like…where decisions are made.’
‘Must be a woman’s brain,’ Joel deadpanned, taking a swig of his beer. ‘Can guarantee men make their decisions someplace else.’
You caught a glimpse of something dark in his eyes as he glanced over you. You blushed, swearing it was just the heat, and furious with yourself. This wasn’t like you; you weren’t some shrinking violet type. You’d had boyfriends, you’d had fun in college. You had no idea what it was about Mr Miller that made you immediately go all giggly, all girly, but whatever it was you wished it would fuck off.
The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. You were used to this from him, the way his mind seemed to drift, the way he seemed content enough to let it. Gently, so as not to jolt him out of his thoughts, you closed your book, gathered your pens together. Everything tucked away in your bag you were surprised when you looked up to see he was watching you.
‘Apparently Sarah’s taken an interest in science,’ he said after a moment, his warm eyes watching yours for a second. You felt a tingle of pride in your chest.
‘Oh yeah?’ you asked.
‘Mmhmm, apparently after she pushed Simon Strzelecki off the monkey bars, she offered to patch him up again.’
You grinned before you were able to catch yourself.
‘That’s…very, umm…’ you trailed off and he huffed out a little laugh.
‘It’s very Sarah,’ he agreed.
‘M’sorry, Mr Miller…’ you started, but Joel stood up, waving you off.
‘Don’t be, Strzelecki’s a little shit’f the highest order,’ he said. ‘You gonna let me give ya a lift this time?’ he asked, and this time you shook your head at him.
‘No, I can walk it.’
‘Y’know I don’t like ya walkin’ around out there on yer’own,’ he grumbled, and you felt the insane urge to reach your hand out to rest on his bicep, to ease his evident discomfort.
‘I can handle it,’ you said, instead.
Something stole over his face for a moment, a sharpness in his eyes. For a moment you gazed up at him, the furrow in his brow deepening, the muscles in his jaw twitching as his eyes roamed over your face. Standing this close to him you were reminded how tall, how broad he really was. You dropped your eyes to his arms, crossed over his chest, and imagined him holding you with them, circling them around your back as you leant, safe, into his skin. You blinked yourself back to reality, worried for a second he could read your thoughts.
‘Know you can handle it,’ he said, his voice low, ‘just don’t like it, is all.’
You did this every time, this stand-off. You worried one night you would waver.
‘G’night, Mr Miller,’ you said, over dry lips. He nodded, once, at you, still evidently displeased something dark, something haunted, passing over his features before he brought them back into line.
He stood on the front porch, light still on, until you rounded his driveway and disappeared past the oak tree by the front lawn.
--
Mick was a guy from your Tuesday morning bio class, and you only realised he was your boyfriend when he introduced you to a few of his friends that way. You’d just gone with it, because it had seemed easier, and he was nice if a little full of himself at times. He was the son of the one the big ranching families, had been almost guaranteed a position at whatever college he chose on the day of his birth, hadn’t ever really considered that money was something you saved, something you worked for.
But he would never let you pay for dinner, and often he showed up to class holding a coffee just for you. You’d been on your own for a long time, had been self-sufficient well before you had any business to, and it was kind of nice to let yourself be cared for, if that’s what this was.
On nights when you had to work he would pout and complain, and you told yourself it was because he cared about you, because he wanted you around, even if some part of you knew he just didn’t like to be alone. Every once and while he would ask if he could come with you, ‘feel you up on the couch like it’s eighth grade’, and it made you feel exactly fourteen years old, like this was a summer job you had failed to grow out of. It didn’t help that he more than once referred to your sitting job as ‘cute’. His mother had stayed at home the moment she fell pregnant with Mick’s older brother, and as far as you could tell was yet to leave. You never asked about a future with Mick, terrified of what kind of picture he would paint.
On one such evening, after he’d been particularly insistent that you blow off your job and come and hang out with him and his friends, he’d starting blowing up your phone just as Mr Miller sat down beside you, weary-boned and sleepy-eyed, at his kitchen table.
You ignored the calls, tried to carry on reading even as Mr Miller arched his brow at your insistently vibrating device. You huffed, knowing at some point Mick would get bored.
‘You’re popular tonight?’ Joel prompted after a while, making you lose your place in the paragraph you’d read over at least ten times already.
You huffed out a sigh, reaching out and scrolling through the stream of notifications. He’d started texting, sometimes just sending a single emoji, sometimes entire paragraphs about how badly you were letting him down. You felt an ache bloom behind your right eye socket, and you reached up to your temple to try and massage it away.
‘It’s my boyfriend,’ you told him, and with your eyes still closed you didn’t see him scowl. ‘He wants me to come out to some bar with him and his drunk friends.’
Joel considered this for a long moment. When you opened your eyes they blurred under the sudden light, and you blinked away sleep to see him clearly again.
‘You should be out with your friends, it’s a Friday night…’ he said, almost looking guilty for a moment, and you rushed to reassure him.
‘No, no trust me…this is better. They’re boring when they’re drunk. And also when they’re sober.’
Joel smiled, straining just slightly, at this.
‘He a good man?’ he asked, and you scoffed a little.
‘He’s barely a man at all,’ you said, automatically. Later you’d reflect on this moment, feel it turn you inside out and scold your skin with the heat of your own shame. For now, though, you were too tired, and it was too hot in the kitchen, for you to catch it.
Joel caught it, though. He cleared his throat.
‘We met at college, and he’s…well, he’s kind of set up for life. He doesn’t have to worry about grades, or proving himself. He’s almost guaranteed his residency.’ You were aware you were starting to sound bitter, and maybe you were just a little. Something about Mr Miller, sitting at his kitchen table late in the evening with a beer, muscles wrapped in a plaid, his soft brown eyes watching you carefully, made you think he’d understand.
‘He doesn’t make you feel good enough for him?’ he asked, after a while.
You considered this, eventually shrugging your shoulders. ‘I don’t know if he makes me feel anything,’ you said, truthfully.
Joel leaned forward, elbows on the table, his chin resting in his hand as he watched you, gazed at your face.
‘What do you want him to make you feel?’ he asked.
‘Seen,’ you said, without hesitation.
‘Just seen?’ he asked. His voice was deathly quiet now, almost entirely gravel. His eyes were burning, sharp. You watched as they darkened, stealing your breath out from under you.
‘Desired,’ you almost whispered. He dropped a hand to the table, his fingertips only inches from yours, resting casual on your textbook.
‘What man’s out there runnin’ round this town not desirin’ you?’ he asked, almost as though he couldn’t believe it, and you felt scorching heat on your cheeks, rushing down your sternum, pooling heavy in your core.
You blinked, terrified to move in case you broke whatever spell had befallen him. He turned thoughtful, his eyes dropping to the woodgrain of the table.
‘Y’been working a lot here…can’t imagine hanging out with me and a ten-year-old girl is the same as bein’ out there, living your youth…’
You felt something heavy shift in your belly, something essential curdle and erode.
‘I like it here, Mr Miller,’ you said, all big eyes and almost quivering lower lip. Joel moved away, sitting up straight and peeling the label off his beer.
‘Pretty thing like you, shouldn’t be spendin’ all night waitin’ on us,’ he said, almost to himself. You shook your head again, but he was closing off on you, you could see it in the way his shoulders were folding, the way his mouth was tugging down at the corners.
Without even considering it, operating almost entirely on instinct, you reached your hand out to rest on his bicep. You watched as his eyes drifted close, a long exhale through his nose. He grimaced, almost like you were hurting him, until he lifted his hand and held yours fast to him, wrapping his paw around you.
‘I really love spending time with Sarah,’ you said, just over a whisper, as he stared hard at the table. You could sense he was avoiding your gaze, and you wanted to say something to draw him to you, wanted to give him a little nugget of truth that he could take into himself, hold deep and quiet in his depths. ‘I love spending time with you,’ you said.
He raised his eyes to yours. His hand was so warm over yours, your cheeks so pink in the sleepless heat of the late evening. You saw his eyes fall to your lips and you slipped your hand from under his, reaching up to trace the contours of his jaw with your fingertips.
‘Baby…’ he whispered, ‘I been’ resistin’ you so long, don’t know if I can…’ and you pushed a finger to his lips. You didn’t want him to break whatever spell you were both suddenly under. Didn’t want him to take this from you both, whatever it was turning out to be.
‘Don’t argue,’ you instructed, quietly. With brows saddled, he nodded his head.
And he didn’t argue. Not when you moved your finger from his lips and traced it down over the hollow of his neck, over to his pulse where it thundered under your tough.
Didn’t argue when you leant forward, pressing your nose to his, giving him time to pull away, to move from your lips.
Didn’t argue when you pressed them to his, a little soft and quiet thing, earning you a wanting gasp from him, a prize you would hold in the cavity of your chest so long as your heart stayed beating.
Later, when you had gathered yourselves, when he had gazed at you and you had felt the want in him mixing with the regret, with the necessity of the un-having corrupting the want to take and take and take, you had simply gathered your books, tucking them quiet and neat into the bag at your feet. He didn’t argue with you about driving you home that night, suddenly quiet in a way that set your teeth on edge, and you felt an ache in your belly you couldn’t account for when he closed the door. You waited behind the trunk of the tree at the end of his driveway, counting the minutes he left the light on for you after you’d slipped from view, giving up when you got past 15.
--
You were unsettled. Joel hadn’t called for two weeks, and you were starting to worry that you’d ruined things, your silly little kiss bubbling corrosive at the base of your spine. You couldn’t help going over the whole evening again and again in your head.
You should have told him you preferred spending the nights at his house, that the way it smelt like play-dough and sometimes sawdust, sometimes pine, was so unique to the both of them that you felt your nerves settle the moment you stepped over the threshold. That the house was warm and quiet, that you could spread out your books and something essential to you, that in this space with them you felt more yourself than anywhere else on the planet, even locked away in your little studio apartment, even just you and your reflection in the bathroom mirror.
You wanted to tell him Sarah was funny, and smart, and kind, and being around her made you nostalgic for the childhood you never had but ached for, that you felt all that time with her she was giving you something precious and absent, something simple and something sweet. That there were nights you weren’t sure who was sitting who.
You wanted to tell him you didn’t expect anything from him, that it didn’t matter to you if nothing ever happened, if he regretted letting you kiss him, if it had just been that it was too awkward in the moment to say no. Just that you wanted to keep sitting for him, just that if all you got was a casual conversation at the end of the evening and an argument about driving home that would be enough for you, because it would have to be, and so you could make it so.
You begged off seeing Mick for the second Friday night in a row, wanting to be available in case Joel called. You felt silly but you could use the cash. Your textbooks were $400 a piece, and next semester you were taking three classes. Just feeding yourself was enough to stop your studies in their tracks.
Two things happened in the span of ten minutes. A knock at your door stirred you from your lecture notes, and your phone rang. By the time you had it in your hand you were holding Mick back from your face, your palm to his chest, as you craned your neck away from him to speak.
‘M’sorry, Sweetheart, it’s just…I know, it’s a Friday…’
‘It’s fine, Mr Miller,’ you said, ignoring the way Mick was making smoochy faces over your shoulder. ‘I don’t have any plans.’
When you got off the phone Mick was pouting again, and you sighed.
‘I thought I was your plans?’ he said, and you shrugged at him.
‘It’s good money for easy work, babe,’ you said, the nickname sitting heavy on your tongue.
‘I can give you money,’ he said, pulling you towards him by your belt loops and nipping at your jaw. You cringed away from him.
‘That would make me your whore, right?’ you said, and he grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrows.
‘Never seemed to bother you before…’ he said, and you bristled against him.
‘The fuck does that mean?’
“Oh, fuck me, babe, make me yours…” he imitated, his voice high in a general approximation of yours. You blushed, furiously. ‘You think good girls beg like little whores?’ he asked, and you knew he was kidding around, knew that he wasn’t smart enough to do it without outright insulting you, knew that you’d put up with this shit before so there was no reason why he wouldn’t assume he couldn’t get away with it now. You knew the way he spoke to you was basically your fault, and you couldn’t yell at him now that the precedent had been set. You felt yourself crumple, landing with a thump on the edge of your bed.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ he was saying, grinning at you like he’d won his prize. ‘You put the kid to bed, and I’ll come by and keep you happy ‘til Dad gets home.’
You hated the idea, the thought of Mick in that space you’d almost come to think of sacred making your stomach churn.
‘No,’ you said, and you watched as he arched his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You can’t come in…’
‘Say no more,’ he said, grinning again, and for whatever reason, you didn’t.
--
He arrived, just after 9 PM, already drunk. You winced as he parked his car in the driveway, right in Mr Miller’s spot, worried for a moment he was going to swipe the mailbox when he took the angle too fast. He skidded to a stop mere inches from Mr Miller’s garage door and you exhaled, realising you were bracing for the sound of splintering wood. He ambled over to where you stood on the front porch, tugging at your shirt sleeves in the cool night air.
‘Babe!’ he called, and you shushed him almost instantly. He was carrying a sixpack of beers, three of them already gone. His breath reeked and you wrinkled up your nose when he slung his arm over the back of your neck and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss.
‘This feels like high school,’ he said, and giggled.
‘This is my job, y’know,’ you corrected him, but he wasn’t hearing you, backing you up against the side of the house. You thumped into the brick, wind temporarily knocked from your lungs before he was on you, slipping his entire tongue into your ear in a way that made your skin crawl.
‘Easy…’ you said, and he ignored you, his hand not holding the beers rising up to paw at your breast over your shirt.
‘Mmm…such a tasty little slut,’ he said, and you closed your eyes. ‘Little naughty baby-sitter.’
‘Keep your voice down,’ you stage-whispered, not sure how well your voices wouldn’t carry over the breeze in Mr Miller’s cul-de-sac. He leant down, resting the beers on the front porch so that he could grope you with both hands.
He groaned as he rubbed his cock at your clothed centre. You moved your face to the side, letting your eyes slide closed again.
You tried to think of a romantic movie. Tried to remember some of the fragments of the romance novels your mother had kept stowed under the bed and that you snuck into the den to read to your giggling friends. Tried to imagine a different man, a stranger’s hands on your chest, a stranger’s fingers pinching at your nipples. Tried to imagine what it would feel like if they found the sweet spot, if they sent electric shocks into your belly, into your cunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push the sound of Mick’s heavy breathing out of your mind, focusing instead on rough and calloused fingers, the scruff of a beard teasing along your skin. Heavy accent and sweet pine, a groaned little ‘Sweetheart…’ as he slipped your shirt up over your shoulders.
‘The fuck’s going on here?’ you heard a gruff voice as your eyes sprang open, pushing Mick from you hard enough that he stumbled, backwards, landing on the grass.
‘Mr Miller!’ you exclaimed, shame burning bright on your cheeks as you righted your clothes. ‘M’so sorry, he just dropped by…’ you started but Joel was striding up his driveway, as you realised with a new flash of guilt he’d had to park on the street.
‘Hey, man…’ Mick was saying, his hands up in front of his face. ‘Just checkin’ in on my girl…’
You cringed, this particular pet name always feeling more like ownership when it came from him.
Joel looked up at you, his brows saddled. ‘You OK, Sweetheart?’ he asked you, and you realised for the first time he wasn’t angry but concerned, his fists balled up like he was ready to spring to your defence.
‘It’s Mick,’ you explained, glancing down at him as he tried to climb to his feet, getting as far as his knees and settling there for a second to plan his next move. ‘He…he wanted to…’
‘Yeah, I saw what he wanted to,’ Joel huffed out, reaching down to pull Mick upright by the back of his shirt. ‘Saw the way you were bracing away from it too,’ he said, looking directly into Mick’s grinning face.
‘What else you see, old man?’ he asked, and Joel dropped him back onto his knees.
‘You got your keys?’ he asked him, and waiting for the younger man to root around in his pockets.
‘Don’t steal my ride,’ he said, handing them over and not noticing when Joel slipped them into his pocket.
‘M’going inside, and I’m gonna call you a taxi, and you’re getting in. She can drive your car back to you tomorrow mornin’…if she doesn’t decide to drive it off a cliff,’ he said, abandoning Mick on the front lawn and coming towards you, grabbing your wrist gentle but firm in his hand and pulling you inside. ‘C’mon, darlin’,’ he said, and you followed, almost entirely on autopilot.
‘I’m so sorry, Mr Miller,’ you started but he waved you away, placing a call for the taxi while keeping you fixed in your spot with his glare. When he was done, he rolled his shoulders, sighing.
‘You sit,’ he said, striding into the kitchen and emerging moments later with two glasses of sweet tea. You realised, as you lifted your hands to take your glass from him, that you were shivering.
‘I didn’t know he was going to do that,’ you said, and Joel shook his head. You felt the waves of disappointment rolling off him and you worried for a moment you might cry.
‘He always touch ya like that?’ he asked, palming at the back of his neck.
‘Like what?’ you asked, your cheeks burning again.
‘All…clumsy and…disrespectful,’ he said, quiet. He stared at the floor between you while you perched on the edge of the couch.
‘Well…’ you started, but you weren’t sure how you wanted to finish that sentence. Sometimes he doesn’t even bother to touch me at all, you thought.
Joel scoffed, his jaw squeezed tight. ‘Guys like that are all the same, Sweetheart, just…selfish. Even in the bedroom. No lady should be touched like she’s a piece of meat.’
You considered, for one crazy moment, if Joel wasn’t so much disappointed in you as he was in Mick’s prowess. Suddenly you had to stifle a giggle.
‘What’s so funny?’ Joel asked you, surprised.
‘Just…I mean, they all go to such fancy schools, get all that college for basically free…’ you started, trailing off when you saw him starting to smile. ‘He can’t even boil an egg, and I don’t mean mine,’ you said, and he laughed then, free and loud, and the sound of it made a little fizzle of joy spark up your spine.
This was fun, you realised, shitting on your terrible boyfriend with the most handsome single Dad you’d ever laid your eyes on. This was really, really fun.
‘So, I take it he don’t make you breakfast in the mornin’,’ Joel joked, and you snorted. ‘What you eat for breakfast, anyway?’ he asked, turning to you now, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You swallowed. ‘No, wait,’ he said, ‘let me guess.’ He pretended to look you up and down, his brow arching as he considered. ‘You’re not a waffles kinda girl,’ he said, thoughtfully. You grinned and shook your head. You’d never liked the sponginess. ‘But you’re too fun for plain old oatmeal,’ he said, and you felt a blush crawling across your chest. ‘You’re a pancake princess,’ he decided, finally. ‘Am I right?’
You pretended to consider it for a second before nodding happily at him. ‘Maple syrup and berries,’ you agreed.
‘Maple syrup and berries,’ he said, grinning in his victory. He paused, something passing between you. Suddenly he shifted forward, his knees just barely brushing yours. You found yourself mirroring him, leaning in enough that you had to put your hand out to steady you, landing it on the cushion only inches from his thigh. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek when he whispered in your ear, ‘tart…but a little bit of sweet for m’sweetheart.’
You felt heat scorch its way up your chest, reduced to kindling beside him.
‘Bet he don’t kiss ya like ya should be,’ he said, and you thought for a second of Mick, grinning and drunk out of his mind on the front lawn. You wondered if the taxi had come for him yet, and had absolutely no interest in going out to check on him.
‘Mr Miller…’ you whispered, and he groaned, then, his eyes rolling back in his head.
‘Please, baby, when you call me that…’ he trailed off, eyes blown wide and you felt, then, the thundering in your chest. From this distance you could see his racing pulse in his neck, the same pace as yours.
‘Mr Miller…’ you said, again, staring now at his lips. You wanted to reach out and just take a little nibble.
And he was on you, grasping the back of your head and bringing it down to him, crashing his lips into yours as you gasped, swallowing the echo down into his throat. His tongue, scorching hot, exploring your mouth as he teased it open, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheeks.
‘Thought about you…’ you said, without even thinking, and Joel pulled back a second to appraise you; your swollen lips, your doe-eyes gazing up at him.
‘Say that again,’ he mumbled.
‘When he’d take me, I’d think about you,’ you said, and you watched as his eyes fell shut, taking the moment to glance down at his heaving chest, the aching bulge between his legs. ‘Thought about your hands on me, Mr Miller, about your mouth.’
‘Fuck, Sweetheart…’ he said, almost as if it pained him, before his eyes snapped back open to gaze at you.
‘Kiss me?’ you asked, sweet as you could for him while you tried with both hands to hang on to the moment, to stay here in it with him. You would need to remember this, every corner of the room, every detail. Would spend nights reconstructing his face in your mind, the way he was looking at you now, wanting and red-cheeked, dark eyes and a hot little huff as your words landed their blows on him.
‘Canna touch you, baby?’ he asked, and you were nodding, pulling him towards you as he slid his hands over your waist. Threading your hands through his hair he brought you over him, straddling him on the couch as he stared up at you, brows arching high, as if he couldn’t quite believe it was happening. You smiled at him, feeling like his prize, as you brought your hips down on him and watched his eyes ease shut, heard his breath stutter. He was big, you could feel it even as the seam of his jeans rubbed at your core. You could feel yourself aching for him, hot and pounding where you ground yourself down.
‘Fuck, Mr Miller…’ you gasped as you felt him push his cock up into you, his hands on your hips and pulling you down.
‘So beautiful, baby,’ he whispered, reaching up with one hand to cup your breast, squeezing the nipple between his fingers that, even through your shirt, shot lightning bolts to your cunt. You gasped, a high-pitched little sound you were sure you’d never made before, and he soaked it down into his skin, kept it held tight and precious in the core of him, to keep him warm on cold evenings.
You felt yourself shivering, even as his warm fingertips dropped to lift the hem of your tee and trace their way back up to your tits along the skin. His enormous hands almost completely captured it, and you felt small, then, and shy, but when you looked down into his warm, brown eyes you saw only safety there, only naked desire for your pleasure.
You let your hips roll, that building ache in your core. You’d only ever felt this alone, had never had another person bring it out of you, and you felt the sharp edges of it as you felt a shard of panic slice through your gut. No one had ever done this for you, before. You weren’t sure if your body would allow it, weren’t sure if you could let go enough to fall.
‘Hey…’ Joel said beneath you, his eyes roaming your face. ‘Relax, Sweetheart,’ he whispered, reaching his hand from your hip to your jaw, pulling you down to rest your forehead on his. ‘Just you n’me, baby,’ he whispered as you rocked on top of him. ‘You can take what you need,’ he promised. ‘I got you.’
‘Joel!’ you gasped, the shiver in your body now ratcheting up your spine, your thighs burning as you rolled your hips on his lap, his cock still tucked away in his jeans. ‘I don’t know if I…’
‘Sssh…’ he cooed, raising a thumb to your lips and slipping it between your teeth. You sucked instinctually, swirling your tongue over the tip and letting your eyes drift closed. ‘Just feel it, baby,’ he said, ‘don’t force it. Let it grow.’
Never in your life had you felt like this. You took his thumb between your teeth as you ground, the spark of fear in your belly engulfed by the roar of your desire. You could feel your hips stuttering, could hear yourself starting to pant.
‘Good girl…’ Joel encouraged, slipping his thumb from your mouth now and smearing it across your lips. ‘Right here for ya, baby,’ he said. ‘Wantchya to feel so good.’
You cried out, smacking your hand over your mouth to stifle your cries. He was going to kill you, and you would let him again and again, let him bring you back to life just to kill you this way all over again. You had no idea bodies were made to feel this good.
‘Oh!’ you gasped, all the warning you could muster as he grabbed your hips with both hands, slamming his bulge up into you as he pulled you down, the seam of his jeans rubbing hard into your clit. ‘Yes!’ you whispered, your body shuddering as you felt yourself crest, the pleasure roaring from your cunt to your chest, exploding out of your skin as you rolled, roiled, boiled on top of Mr Miller.
‘Jesus, there she is…’ he whispered, and you opened your eyes to gaze down at him, your breath still coming in gasps as he watched you, awe and desire on his face. ‘There she is,’ he said again, like a prayer, a benediction.
--
You woke slowly, the dappled light streaming in through the oak tree beside Joel’s window. It took you a moment to orient yourself, to remember that you were in his bed because he’d considered it too late for you to take yourself home, even if you had Mick’s car. Because the pleasure he’d wrung out of you on his couch had left you boneless, because the idea of ripping yourself from his smell, from his heat, was unthinkable in that moment.
You stretched, noting that the other side of the bed remained made, that he had spent the night on the couch. You remembered that you had wanted to ask him to stay, that the words had formed on your lips, and that in that moment you saw the regret on his face, the longing to tuck himself in beside you and pull you into his chest, let the weight of the night take him and you with him, but that he wouldn’t allow it, that he was holding back. You weren’t sure why, but you assumed out of decency, out of respect. Out of some vague employee-boss professionalism you would both cling to in an attempt to paper over the grasping maw of desire opening up between you.
You had wanted him, and you had denied him, allowed him to deny you. You rolled to your back in a frustrated huff, surrounded by the scent of him, of his cologne and the scent of his skin imbued in the sheets beneath you.
After a while you heard noises in the kitchen and you left your cocoon, pulling your clothes on and padding down the stairs constructing a cover story for Sarah as to why you were still there. When you rounded the corner, though, you saw only Joel –in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else, standing at the stove.
‘Hey, Sweetheart,’ he said casually, as if you hadn’t come on his lap less than twelve hours before, ‘Sarah’s headed off to soccer practice, so you and me’ll have to take care of all these.’
He gestured over his shoulder to the kitchen table, where a stack of cooling pancakes stood proud. You felt a shiver of shock run though you at the sight of them, turning to Joel with the curl of tears tickling the back of your eyes. ‘No berries, sorry darlin’,’ he said, without looking up. ‘But we got enough syrup to make it up to ya, I hope.’
You weren’t sure anyone had ever done anything like this for you. You wanted to sob, wanted to walk over to the table and pick up the pancakes in your fists and mash them into your skin, wanted to drown them in syrup and eat until your belly distended, wanted to force feed them into Joel. Instead, you stepped forward, your arms opening all of their own accord, wrapping yourself around his back like a Koala. He huffed out a surprised laugh, growing serious when he turned you in his arms to face him, seeing the gathering tears at your waterline.
‘Hey, what’s this?’ he asked, and you grinned, watery, up at him.
‘No-one has ever…’ you started, catching your words before they spilled too much of the truth. Understanding passed over Joel’s face.
‘Oh, my sweet girl…’ he said, and you glowed for a minute, the words reaching down into your chest and igniting something long extinguished.
He leaned down towards you, pressed his nose to yours, his forehead resting gently on yours. You inhaled him, his scent and the sweet smell of the pancakes on the stove, tried to imprint the memory deep in your DNA.
‘What the fuck is this?’ an angry voice sounded from behind you, and you snapped away from Joel, taking several steps back. Mick, still in his same clothes from the night before, stood furious in Joel’s kitchen.
‘The fuck, you let yourself in?’ Joel asked, matching Mick’s anger with his own. ‘This is a private residence, man.’
‘That’s my girlfriend, man,’ Mick spat, his face twisting into an ugly mask you weren’t sure you’d ever noticed on him before. ‘The fuck you doing feeling her up? You stealin’ my car and my girl?’
‘Mick…’ you started but he was ignoring you, advancing on Joel. You stepped towards him, hands up to placate, but Joel was suddenly beside you, tucking you behind him and shielding you with his broad chest.
‘Back up, buddy,’ Joel said, a whispered warning.
‘Me, back up?’ Mick seethed, about to go on before Joel interrupted him.
‘Yeah, you back up. You need to sit your arse down and learn yourself somethin’,’ he said, advancing on Mick so that the younger man took several steps backwards, heading towards the kitchen table. You wondered if anyone had ever actually stood up to him, if usually his wealth was enough to make people cower. He backed into a kitchen chair, slamming down into it with a thud as he stared up at Joel, the older man red faced and pointing a finger at his chest. ‘You think that little display last night was any way to treat a woman?’ he grit out. You watched as Mick shook his head no. ‘You think she enjoyed that, being pawed at in the dark like a fuckin’ street walker?’ he asked.
‘She looked pretty whorish a few seconds ago,’ Mick responded, petulant and stupid. You could see by the way Joel braced his shoulders, his back expanding in resplendent fury, that Mick had made the wrong fucking choice.
‘Ya little shit,’ Joel said, stepping back from Mick and towards you. He held his arm to you, beckoning you into his chest and you went to him, tucking yourself against his side.
‘You have a woman like this, you fuckin’ cherish her,’ Joel muttered, tracing his fingertips along your side and making you shiver. ‘Look at these pretty little tits,’ he said, moving to cup them as you blushed, tucking your face into his neck. You heard Mick’s sharp intake of breath, mirroring your own as Joel rolled your nipples through your shirt. ‘The way you were grabbin’ at ‘em last night, you think that felt good? You make her groan like this?’ he asked, applying just the right amount of pressure on the sensitive nubs, eliciting a moan from you, unbidden.
‘Listen, man, this is…’ Mick started but Joel cut him off with just a look, stern and disapproving, before his face shifted back to adoration when he turned to you.
‘Let’s show him, baby?’ he asked, his brows saddled high. You knew you were safe with him, that at any moment you could call it off, but you wanted this. You wanted Mick to see what Joel could do to you, the sounds you could make. Wanted him to feel small and insignificant in the presence of a real man, of real pleasure. Wanting him to see what money couldn’t buy.
You nodded your head at Joel and watched as the grin bloomed over his face. ‘M’good girl,’ he said, quiet enough that only you could hear it, and you felt the bolt of want shoot down into your core. Your cunt already aching, already dripping for him.
‘Show me where,’ he said, stepping back as you surveyed the space. You nodded towards the kitchen island, the bench just above your hip height. Joel nodded, lifting you up easily to perch on the edge, your body facing Mick as he sat, frozen, at the table in front of you.
‘Slip these off, baby,’ Joel said, tugging at your sweatpants and you lifted your hips as he slipped them, your panties along with them, out from underneath you. The granite countertop cold on the top of your thighs you revelled in the sensation of it, the hard, cold surface so different to Joel’s hot body as he hovered at your side.
‘Show him,’ he said, tapping you on the knee. You spread your legs, hooking one thigh over the edge of the counter and the other widening out to your side, your cunt unfolding before the two men in front of you. You watched as Mick’s face turned pink, sweat appearing on his brow. You turned to look at Joel, the hunger in his eyes as he devoured every inch of your skin. He reached over, running his fingertips over the inside of your thigh, moving closer to you, leaning over your body to whisper into your ear.
‘You’re dripping onto my countertop, baby,’ he said, and you could hear the glee in it, the wanting.
‘For you, Joel,’ you clarified. ‘Not him.’
‘Nah, never for him, I reckon,’ Joel agreed, his fingers slipping further towards your slit. You felt totally exposed and wanton, whorish, as Mick had put it, and your cunt was pulsing, aching from the desire of it. You felt like a priceless piece of art admired in a big city museum, like a stripper opening up her legs for hoards of braying men, like a girlfriend letting her disappointing boyfriend know in no uncertain terms he would no longer neglect her. You felt power coursing through your veins and into your cunt, your slick pooling on the top of your thighs as the most beautiful man you had ever seen stood beside you and teased the pleasure from every nerve.
‘Fuck…’ you whimpered as Joel’s fingers landed light and dexterous on your clit, the little bundle of nerves sending the pleasure roaring through your core and into your chest. You bucked your hips, nearly slipping from the countertop, Joel coming forward again to brace you against his chest.
‘God, look how much she wants it,’ Joel said over your head to Mick. ‘Bet you’ve never made her jump like that.’ You opened your eyes, not even having realised they’d closed, to watch Mick swallow hard and heavy. You beamed back at Joel, letting the pride in his face radiate warmth down upon you.
‘So good f’me, so good t’me,’ he said, spreading your lips apart with his fingers and pushing a fingertip inside. You gasped, shock on your face at the intensity of the need for him burning where he touched.
‘Please…’ you whimpered, just wanting more and just wanting him to never stop, just wanting him to reach inside you, to wring the pleasure out of you, to make you come so hard you forgot your own name.
‘Sshh…’ he cooed to you, ‘your boyfriend needs to concentrate so he can learn.’
You emitted a squeal of frustration, bucking your hips on his hand to try and draw him in, earning you only a chuckle from Joel.
‘Ok baby, m’sorry. Just like teasin’ ya,’ he grinned at you, before sliding two fat, rough fingers hard into your cunt.
For a second you lost touch with reality, your head flying back to the ceiling as sensations strong enough to take your breath roared from your cunt. The stretch was delicious, the heel of Joel’s hand rubbing hard at your clit as his fingers reached deep inside you, opening you up for him, your slick gathering in his palm.
‘Look how wet she gets,’ Joel noted, over his shoulder to Mick. ‘Such a shiny little cunt when she’s drippin’ like this. You ever work her up like this?’
You heard Mick grunt, a pleading note of displeasure, and you sighed as Joel started pumping, stoking the fire in your cunt that threatened to eviscerate you and everyone within the vicinity.
‘Joel!’ you gasped, rolling your hips again, trying to shove him deeper into your greedy little cunt as it grasped at him.
‘Could lick ‘er up, whatchyu reckon?’ Joel asked, already getting down on his knees as you groaned, certain now he was going to send you into the stratosphere. ‘Can I, baby?’ he asked, and you nodded, frantic, unable to form words.
‘Bet she tastes sweet,’ Joel said to Mick, who was inching closer in his chair, peering over Joel’s shoulder as your cunt swallowed his thick fingers. ‘Like watermelon on a hot summer day. You ever taste her, Mick?’ he asked. You watched as the shame bloomed over Mick’s face. Joel scoffed. ‘Course not, ya fuckin piss weak little prick,’ he spat before turning, diving in to lick a fat stripe at your folds, settling in to lap at your clit as his fingers worked you.
You screamed, sucking in huge lung-fulls of breath just to let them keen out of you, your hips slamming shut on Joel’s head as he sucked at you, every nerve ending screaming now as you felt the blooming heat of release.
‘Oh, he’s gonna make me…’ you said to Mick over Joel’s shoulder, watching you with owlish eyes.
‘Don’t talk to him,’ Joel admonished you, pulling your focus down to him as he perched between your legs, ‘you talk to me,’ he said.
‘Sorry, Mr Miller,’ you said, watching as his eyes rolled shut, a shiver passing over his shoulders.
‘Be the death of me…’ he muttered, returning his attentions to your pulsing cunt. You gripped his hair, rolling your hips on his face and rocking into him, chasing the release now gathering at the base of your spine.
‘Jesus…oh, fuck…’ you cried, trying desperately to warn him, your eyes slamming shut only to open in shock as he found new ways to wring the pleasure from you.
Joel worked you up, his tongue never fatiguing, setting up the perfect rhythm to hold you just on the edge. You could feel your sweat pooling on your skin, the heat in your cunt spreading down your legs, the pull of the knot in your belly.
To your utter dismay Joel stopped, lifting his face to address Mick at his shoulder. ‘You ever make her squirm like this?’ he asked, and you cried for him, then, scrabbling to grip his shoulders, his chin, to push him back to your desperate cunt. He laughed, nipping at your fingertips as they passed by. ‘Look at her graspin’ for me. You seein’ this? This is what real pleasure looks like.’
You cracked open an eye, the room spinning around you as you fought to regain control of your limbs. You saw the look of shame embedded deep into Mick’s face now, the sight of it somehow intensifying your pleasure, the building pressure in your cunt.
‘Fuck me,’ you gasped, turning your attention back to Joel, his eyebrows shooting up. ‘Show him how to fuck,’ you groaned, pushing off the countertop and spinning up onto your toes, laying chest down on the granite now hot to the touch from your writhing body on top of it. You spread your legs a little, knowing that your puffy little cunt lips would be revealed to them both, and you heard them both groan, Joel’s chesty moan full of grit, Mick’s high pitched and brimming with regret.
‘Don’t do this, man…’ he pleaded, and you heard Joel’s little scoff.
‘That’s the thing, buddy, the lady always gets what she wants.’
You felt him come to stand behind you, heard the rustle of his sweats as he pulled his cock over the waistband. It took everything in you not to turn and admire it, knowing in that moment you would have plenty of opportunity.
‘Fuck, she’s got me weepin’,’ Joel said, and you heard the unmistakable sound of skin on skin as he wrapped his hand around himself and tugged. ‘Got me harder than a railroad spike, this little cunt…’ he muttered. You whined, swivelling your hips to try and entice him, begging him to move faster as the walls of your cunt fluttered for him. You heard him sigh, a happy little sound. ‘Ok, baby, I’m here,’ he said, running a hand up your spine to hold you gentle and firm at the back of your neck, the head of his cock nudging at your cunt. ‘Gotta be gentle with my sweet little pussy,’ he said to you, leaning over you to place a chaste kiss in the cup of your shoulder blade.
‘Please, let him see it stretch me,’ you said, and you felt Joel shudder, notching himself at your entrance.
‘Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll chain him up in the basement, make him watch me fuck you every day,’ he muttered, pushing gently at first, the tip enough to make you gasp.
He was big, you realised. All of this time working you up he’d been leading to his moment, preparing to tease you open. ‘Oh, shit…’ you gasped as he pushed.
‘You ok, baby?’ he asked, pausing until you nodded, frantic, hands gripping at the edge of the counter for purchase as you pushed back into him, sliding in a few extra inches, as Joel moaned.
You were dimly aware that Mick was moving, coming to stand in front of you, a look of sorrow and unabashed heat on his face.
‘Please, can I?’ he asked, rubbing himself through his pants and you swatted him away.
‘No, fuck you,’ you said, emboldened by Joel’s desire for you, by his cock currently splitting your folds. ‘You never get this pussy again,’ you hissed at him, and you felt a bloom of pride at the look of hurt crossing his face just as Joel cheered from behind you.
‘That’s my beautiful girl!’ he gasped, bringing a finger to your clit and rubbing tight circles into it, making you gasp as you let your head fall, resting on the countertop. ‘So good f’me.’
The burn in your cunt from the way he stretched you abated, the pleasure Joel was giving you from your clit causing more slick to gather, your cunt grasping him again, your walls fluttering as you felt the ache turn to sweet pleasure, to a blooming rapture.
You lost touch with the ground, Joel’s harsh thrusts pushing you further up the counter, completely at his mercy as your legs hung useless beneath you, hands braced against the granite to give him purchase. In this moment, spread out on his cock, your cunt open and dripping for him, the pleasure ripping the words from your brain, gasps racking your throat, you felt completely under Joel’s spell, his touch, his heat. Mind-numb, thoroughly fucked out, gripped in this moment between the build up and the threshold of release.
‘Oh, you’re gonna make me…’ you warned but Joel had you, was there already with you.
‘I know, baby, I know,’ he grunted between thrusts. ‘Can feel it, can feel that sweet little cunt grippin’ me.’
You cried out, nodding your head furiously, entirely at his mercy now. ‘Yes, yes…Joel, it’s gonna…’
‘Let it go, baby,’ he moaned, and you felt none of the panic, none of the terror at your impending release, wrapped up safe in Joel’s body, in his groans of rapture, in the pull of the knot as it threatened to snap entirely.
‘Watch me make her come,’ he spat out over your head, and you were only dimly aware of what he was saying as your release sped towards you.
You writhed, your breath stolen from you by the roar of the wildfire across your chest. The push of your orgasm slipping you under, crashing your body into the shore, rolling and quaking underneath it as indescribable lust coursed through your veins.
‘Oh, fuck, there she goes,’ Joel spluttered, his hips stuttering as he started to deepen his thrusts. ‘Gonna fill up ya girl,’ he grit out, his final movements sloppy and desperate as he approached the edge.
‘Do it, baby,’ you whimpered beneath him, words finally able to escape the cage of your throat. ‘Need you.’
He did, then, his come exploding into you and washing you clean, cleansing you of Mick, of all your disappointments, of all your fears. You looked back over your shoulder at him as he crested, his eyebrows saddled and his eyes trained on you, a look of reverence and hunger, of sweet shock, as though he couldn’t believe how good it felt either, as if everything for him was also slotting into place, as if he knew in this moment he would never let anyone separate you, would never let anyone take you from his side, that in his moment you were his just as much as he was yours, that this was a forging of something solid and essential, something vital and something precious, something that was just for you.
--
You didn’t remember Mick leaving. Didn’t care to say goodbye.
Joel had peeled you off the counter and carried you upstairs, drawn you a bath and lowered you gently into the water, sat beside you and washed your body as you lulled in and out of a light sleep.
Drying you off he wrapped you up in his clothes, swamping you in cotton and his scent, before promising to make you a fresh batch of pancakes. You hadn’t let him, whimpering when he tried to leave your side, pulling him down beside you on the bed and wrapping his arms around you.
Later you would figure out lunch, and then Sarah, and then the rest of your lives. For now, you had each other, and cool sheets, and the light patter of rain as a welcome cool breeze blew new life over the garden beneath Joel’s window.
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN ━━ Future In Our Hands
☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)
☆ ━ word count: 6.3K
☆ ━ warnings: sexual content (fingering—p giving, morning sex)
☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist
☆ ━ author’s note: well… that’s it. my first baby all grown up. i actually cannot believe it’s over yall, genuinely. i love all of you so much, i love dani so much, i love dani and paige so much—like how’re we supposed to say goodbye…. anyways thank you all for your support on this fic, take me to church will always, always have a special place in my heart. ALSO! i’m planing to write an epilogue, so i want you guys to send in some ideas of what you might wanna see in that!! i love you all so much, onto the next 🫡
JUST LIKE DANI thought they’d be, things are different now—but also so much better. After leaving her father’s house, she stayed with the Bueckers for a few weeks. They were kind, welcoming, and unwaveringly supportive, but Dani knew it couldn’t last forever. Paige’s family has their own lives, and—no matter how much they told her she wasn’t—Dani didn’t want to intrude. So when her Aunt Julia offered her a place, Dani accepted, moving into her aunt’s modest apartment just outside the city.
It’s been over a month now, and things are good—really good. Julia and Dani have grown close, almost like they’re making up for lost time. Dani feels lighter in this space, unburdened by judgment or fear. And then there’s Grey, Julia’s son. The baby has taken to Dani in a way that’s mutual and immediate; his face lights up every time she walks into the room, and Dani finds herself softening in his presence in ways she never thought possible. For the first time in years, she feels like she belongs somewhere.
The alarm on Dani’s phone blares, slicing through the comfortable silence of her new bedroom. She groans, reaching blindly to shut it off, and Paige groans along with her. Dani’s hand finds the phone, and she presses the button with more force than necessary, silencing the obnoxious buzz. The room goes quiet again, but it doesn’t last long.
Behind her, Paige stirs, nuzzling closer until her face is buried against Dani’s neck. Her arms tighten around Dani’s waist, one hand slipping beneath the hem of Dani’s sweatshirt to rest warm and solid against her bare stomach.
Dani lets out a breath, feeling Paige’s slow, steady breathing against her skin. “We gotta get up,” she murmurs, though the words lack any real urgency.
Paige responds by shaking her head, her voice muffled. “Noooo. Just a few more minutes.”
Dani huffs out a quiet laugh, the corners of her mouth lifting despite herself. “P…”
But before she can say more, Paige groans dramatically and shifts her weight, rolling fully on top of Dani. She’s warm, all long limbs and lazy strength, her hands sliding up Dani’s sides as she tucks her face against Dani’s neck again. Her lips brush against the sensitive skin there, leaving soft, barely-there kisses that make Dani’s heart stumble in her chest.
Dani sighs, her hands coming up to rest on Paige’s hips. “Paige, we’re graduating in a couple hours.”
Paige makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh, finally lifting her head to look down at Dani. Her hair is a mess, her eyes half-lidded with sleep, but she’s smiling in that lopsided way that always makes Dani’s stomach flip.
“What time is it?” Paige asks, her voice scratchy and low.
“9:30,” Dani says, trying to keep her tone firm.
Paige scoffs. “We ain’t gotta be there ‘til 11:30. We got time.”
Before Dani can respond, Paige leans down, her lips brushing against Dani’s in a kiss that’s soft and lingering at first. Dani melts into it instinctively, her hands sliding up Paige’s back, but it doesn’t stay soft for long.
The kiss deepens, shedding its softness in favor of something needier, hungrier. Dani feels Paige’s weight pressing down on her, grounding her in the moment, the exhaustion they’d both been clinging to dissipating like mist under the heat building between them. Paige tilts her head to angle the kiss just right, her lips sliding against Dani’s with purpose. There’s nothing rushed about it, but there’s an urgency to the way Paige grips Dani’s waist, her fingers splaying against bare skin like she’s memorizing the shape of her.
And then Paige shifts her hips just so, grinding down in a way that steals the breath from Dani’s lungs. Dani gasps against Paige’s lips, her fingers digging into Paige’s shoulders, and she feels rather than hears the soft hum of satisfaction Paige makes in response.
It’s just enough to spark something deep inside her, enough for her body to react instinctively. Dani’s hips buck up to meet Paige’s, the friction making her head spin, and before she knows it, her arms are around Paige’s neck, pulling her impossibly closer. Paige adjusts, settling fully between Dani’s legs, her weight a warm and steady pressure that has Dani’s pulse thrumming wildly.
The hand Paige had been using to grip Dani’s waist slides up, her palm skimming the curve of Dani’s side and brushing just under the swell of her chest. It’s light, barely there, but it sends a shiver coursing through Dani all the same. Paige feels it—of course she does—and her lips curl into a smirk against Dani’s mouth before she dips her head to trail kisses along Dani’s jaw, her breath hot against sensitive skin.
“P…” Dani breathes, her voice shaky.
Paige doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down. Her lips press against the spot just below Dani’s ear, lingering long enough to make Dani squirm beneath her. “Hmm?” Paige hums, her tone teasing, almost lazy, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to Dani.
“Paige,” Dani tries again, her hands sliding up to bury themselves in Paige’s messy blonde hair. She tugs lightly, just enough to make Paige lift her head and meet her gaze. Paige’s eyes are heavy-lidded, her pupils blown wide, and the sight sends another jolt of heat through Dani.
“We’re—” Dani swallows hard, trying to focus, but it’s almost impossible with Paige looking at her like that, with Paige’s hand still skimming her side, her hips still pressed so perfectly against Dani’s. “We’re gonna be late,” she manages, though it comes out far weaker than she intended.
Paige grins, the kind of grin that’s all mischief and affection rolled into one. “We got time,” she says, her voice low and certain. And then she’s insistently reconnecting their mouths, lips sliding together perfectly, teeth clashing just slightly. Dani’s eyes flutter shut as she continues kissing the blonde, feeling Paige’s hands begin to trail downward. They slide along Dani’s stomach, tracing slow circles on her skin, almost teasing. It makes Dani squirm a little until Paige’s fingers brush along the waistband of the pair of Paige’s basketball shorts Dani wore to bed.
Without Paige even asking anything, Dani’s nodding against her, hips shifting. They’re on a time crunch, so if they’re gonna do this, they gotta do it fast. Paige grins against Dani’s lips—probably at her eagerness—before sliding her fingers under the shorts and Dani’s panties in one go.
Dani gasps just slightly as Paige’s fingers reach for her clit, the blonde humming against her lips as she begins to circle the bud. Paige’s mouth disconnects from Dani’s, her lips skimming over her jawline and along her neck. “Mmm,” she hums against Dani’s ear. “So wet, Dan.”
Dani feels her cheeks heat at the words, heat flushing through her face down to her core. She whimpers a little at Paige’s slow circling of her clit, bucking her hips enough to let her know she needs more. Paige understands immediately, and then two of her fingers are sliding inside Dani, the slickness of her making the motion almost effortless. The sound that follows is, indeed, sinful—the obscene wet noises filling the otherwise quiet room, making Dani’s stomach tighten with a renewed wave of arousal.
Paige groans a little, pulling back from Dani’s neck. She grabs at the brunette’s shorts with her free hand, pushing them down so she can see her fingers working, eyes locking onto her digits moving in and out of Dani’s cunt and the way Dani’s body arches up into her. Dani watches Paige watch, catching the blonde bite her lip, eyes almost glazing over as her fingers slide inside Dani.
It makes Dani whimper, her hips instinctively pushing back against Paige’s fingers. “Mmph… please…” she mumbles, not really sure what she’s begging for, but the need in her tone seems to spur Paige on.
Paige responds immediately, thrusting her fingers deeper, curling them just enough to hit that spongy spot inside Dani that makes her gasp loudly. Dani feels Paige’s free hand move back up her body, under her sweatshirt to squeeze at her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple. Paige’s lips find Dani’s neck again, too, biting down lightly before sucking a mark into her skin.
Dani cries out a little at the sensation, her body trembling as the pleasure begins to overwhelm her. “God, P,” she moans, voice ragged.
She feels Paige grin against her neck once more, her fingers moving faster now, her thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles back on her clit. “Like that?” Paige whispers, breath hot against Dani’s skin.
Dani just nods, her breath hitching as she struggles to respond. “Yeah,” she finally manages to gasp out, her hips moving in time with Paige’s fingers. “Just like that.”
Dani bites down onto her lip hard, probably enough to draw blood, keeping herself in check because she has absolutely no interest in her aunt hearing her moan Paige’s name. Paige’s fingers are just relentless as they thrust in and out, the wet sounds between them growing louder and more obscene with every second. Dani feels Paige moan against her neck and that, along with the curling of Paige’s fingers, has Dani’s brows furrowing together, eyes scrunching closed, her whole body tightening.
“’M close,” Dani whimpers breathlessly, her voice barely above a whisper as her nails dig into Paige’s back.
Dani feels Paige’s fingers press even harder at her words, scissoring inside her, angling them just right. “Come on, Dan,” Paige encourages. “Wanna feel it.”
That‘a all it seems to take. With a muffled moan, Dani’s body goes taut, her muscles contracting around Paige’s fingers as she cums hard, her hips bucking as waves of pleasure crash over her. Paige holds her tightly, her fingers slowing just enough to guide Dani through her orgasm, her lips still pressing gentle kisses to her neck.
“Fuck,” Dani gasps, her body finally going limp as she collapses back against the mattress, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to catch her breath.
Paige smirks down at her, slipping her fingers out. Paige presses a gentle kiss to Dani’s jaw, then her lips, then her nose, then the spot between her eyebrows before pulling back so she’s eye-to-eye with the girl. “Now it’s time to get up,” she says, cheesing.
Dani rolls her eyes, slapping at Paige’s arm lightly. “Shut up.”
THE FINAL APPLAUSE feels like it echoes forever, reverberating around the crowded football field. Dani sits there in the plastic chair, the edges of the graduation gown stiff against her arms, her cap threatening to slip off her head. She doesn’t move. Around her, classmates are already standing, hugging, and tossing their caps into the air, but Dani feels rooted in place.
It’s over.
Her childhood—whatever was left of it—has officially ended.
That’s the only thought looping in her head. The years she spent on cramped bleachers, in loud cafeterias, on basketball courts that smelled like old wood and sweat—all of it is behind her now. Her chest feels heavy with something she can’t quite name. Relief? Sadness? Fear? She shakes it off and stands, taking a deep breath that doesn’t fill her lungs the way she wants it to.
When the crowd begins to disperse, she finally spots Paige a few rows over, standing tall and blonde and unmistakable in her blue gown. Thaliah is next to her, smirking as she bats Paige’s hands away from the crooked cap on her head. Dani weaves through the sea of gowns, her own steps feeling distant and mechanical. But when she reaches them, her grin comes naturally.
“Look at us,” Thaliah says, throwing her arms around both Dani and Paige, drawing them into a three-person hug. Her grin is wide. “All grown up!”
Dani chuckles, pulling back just enough to breathe. “Finally free,” she agrees, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
Thaliah rolls her eyes. “Yeah, free to do what? Work? Be an adult? Ugh.”
Dani doesn’t answer because her eyes are drawn to Paige, who’s blinking quickly, her lashes wet. Dani’s smile softens as she takes in the way Paige’s lower lip wobbles just slightly before she sucks it between her teeth.
“Aww, babe,” Dani says, her voice teasing but fond. She steps closer, brushing her thumb under Paige’s eye to catch a tear before it can fall.
“I’m not crying,” Paige says immediately, sniffing and straightening her shoulders like she can will the emotion away.
“You’re totally crying,” Thaliah chimes in, her grin wicked. “Somebody get a camera!”
Paige narrows her eyes. “I ain’t crying!”
“You are,” Dani teases, her hand lingering against Paige’s cheek before letting it fall back to her side.
“Shut up,” Paige mutters, but the corner of her mouth betrays her with a twitch of a smile.
The three of them laugh then, the kind of laughter that feels bigger than the moment. It’s a release, a shared acknowledgment of everything they’ve been through together and everything that’s ahead of them. Dani lets it wash over her, lets herself feel the warmth of it as they shuffle out into the packed hallway.
The noise is overwhelming, a cacophony of voices and camera flashes and the occasional squeal from someone who’s just spotted their family. Dani’s chest tightens briefly, but she shakes it off. This is supposed to be a happy day. She forces herself to focus on the here and now.
“Alright, I’m off,” Thaliah announces, clapping them both on the shoulder. “If I don’t get to my mom soon, she’s gonna start yelling my full name in front of everyone, and we can’t have that.” She gives the pair one last grin before disappearing through the crowd.
Paige stays close as they navigate through the throng of people, her hand brushing Dani’s back as they walk. Dani can feel the slight tremor in Paige’s energy, the kind that only comes when Paige is overwhelmed, but she doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she nudges Paige gently with her elbow, and Paige gives her a grateful smile.
They find Paige’s family first. Her mom is the first person Dani notices, standing near the bleachers with a wide smile and arms open. Lauren, Ryan, and Drew are bouncing on their toes, waving furiously when they spot Paige. Bob is chatting animatedly with Paige’s grandparents, and her aunt is juggling a camera and a gift bag with tissue paper spilling out the top.
“Paige!” Lauren squeals, launching herself at her older sister the second she’s within reach. Paige laughs, catching her and spinning her around before setting her down. Ryan and Drew both aren’t far behind, wrapping their arms around Paige’s waist and clinging like a little koalas.
Dani watches it all unfold, a small smile tugging at her lips. It’s a lot, seeing all of them there, so many people who love Paige and want to celebrate her. A small pang settles in her chest, but she pushes it aside quickly.
She doesn’t have to look far for her own family. Julia is standing just a few feet away, holding baby Grey on her hip, her smile soft and full of pride. Dani’s grandparents are beside her, their expressions warm and welcoming. It’s quieter, simpler, but no less meaningful.
Julia’s arms are open before Dani even realizes she’s moving, and she steps into the hug, letting herself sink into the familiarity of it. “I’m so proud of you, Dani,” Julia whispers into her ear, her voice thick with emotion.
The words hit harder than Dani expects, her throat tightening as she blinks rapidly, willing herself not to cry. She pulls back after a moment, forcing a smile as she meets Julia’s gaze. “Thanks,” she says, her voice a little hoarse.
Grey babbles something unintelligible, reaching for Dani with chubby hands, and she can’t help but laugh as she takes him into her arms. “Hey, buddy,” she murmurs, bouncing him slightly. He giggles, his tiny hands grabbing at the tassel on her cap.
Her grandparents step forward next, wrapping her in hugs that smell like lavender and old books, murmuring their congratulations with quiet pride. Dani’s smile feels a little steadier now, a little more natural.
It’s not perfect. It’s not what she used to imagine this day would look like. There’s an emptiness where her parents should be, a hollow ache she tries not to focus on. But looking at Julia’s warm smile, Grey’s wide eyes, and her grandparents’ unwavering support, she decides it’s enough.
“Hey, kiddo.”
Dani turns to find Bob, Paige’s dad, leaning in for a hug. His grin is kind and effortless, the kind that makes Dani feel seen, like she belongs. She melts into the embrace, letting him clap her on the back as she smiles against his shoulder.
“Look at you!” he exclaims as they pull back. “High school graduate. You’ve done good, Dan.”
Her grin widens. Bob’s probably the closest thing she has to a dad these days, and she’s grateful for how steady he’s always been, how he’s never made her feel out of place. “Thanks, Bob.”
Before she can say more, Amy swoops in, wrapping Dani in a tight hug that smells like fresh laundry and perfume. “Aw, Dani, all grown up!” Amy squeals, pulling back to hold Dani by the shoulders and give her a good once-over. “You’re gonna make me cry.”
Dani laughs, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Please don’t cry, Amy. Paige’ll never let me hear the end of it.”
Amy laughs, her hands squeezing Dani’s shoulders briefly before she lets go. “No promises.”
Dani makes her way down the line, crouching slightly to hug Paige’s little siblings. Lauren and Ryan and Drew all beam at her, their arms wrapping around her tightly. Drew leans into her side, his small voice eager as he says, “You’re coming to the cookout after, right?”
“Of course,” Dani says, ruffling his hair before pulling Lauren in for a quick squeeze. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
When she stands, she feels a hand slide into hers, warm and familiar. Paige is there, her blue eyes soft as she looks at Dani, squeezing her hand gently. “Okay,” Amy says suddenly, clapping her hands together like she’s directing a photoshoot. “I need pictures!”
Paige groans, loud and exaggerated, her head tilting back like this is the most torturous request in the world. “Mom, come on—”
“No complaints!” Amy cuts her off, already holding up her phone. “This is a big day! Paige, Dani, come on.”
Paige rolls her eyes but grins as she tugs Dani closer by the hand. Dani follows easily, letting Paige guide her until they’re standing shoulder to shoulder. Paige’s arm wraps around her waist, her hand resting lightly on Dani’s hip, and Dani lets her own hand settle comfortably against Paige’s back. They tilt their heads together instinctively, their smiles wide and natural as the first flash goes off.
One photo turns into three, then four, and Dani quickly loses track of how many cameras are aimed at them. Both of Paige’s parents are taking pictures, as are their grandparents, Julia, and Paige’s aunt. It feels like every angle is covered, and Dani doesn’t even know where to look at this point.
“Oh, wait, wait!” Julia exclaims suddenly, waving her free hand while balancing Grey on her hip. “Take one showing the caps!”
Dani and Paige both blink at her, confused for a moment before they realize what she means. “Oh!” Paige says, reaching up to tug her cap off. “Yeah, yeah.”
Dani does the same, pulling her cap off and holding it in her hands. When she glances over at Paige, she can’t help but laugh. “Ooh, cap head,” she teases, nodding toward Paige’s hair, which is flattened awkwardly where the cap had been.
Paige narrows her eyes at her, a mock glare that doesn’t last long. “Fix it.”
“Please,” Dani corrects, smirking as she leans in to do just that—fix the mess. Her fingers comb through the strands of blonde until Paige’s hair looks normal again. Paige huffs but doesn’t pull away, her lips twitching upward in the smallest smile.
When Dani’s satisfied, she steps back, only to feel Paige’s hand brushing against her own hair. “Hang on,” Paige mutters, her fingers quick and sure as they smooth out Dani’s own cap-induced disaster.
Once they’ve both deemed each other photo-ready, they angle their caps toward the cameras, holding them up so the bedazzled designs are clearly visible. UConn logos sparkle under the sun, the rhinestones they painstakingly glued on last night catching every flash.
“Go Huskies!” Amy cheers from behind the phone, her voice bright with pride as the camera clicks again.
Dani feels her grin stretch impossibly wider. In that moment, she forgets about the ache in her chest, the absence of her parents, the uncertainty of the future. All she feels is this—Paige’s arm warm around her waist, their friends and family laughing and cheering, and the glimmer of the UConn logos they’ll carry with them into the next chapter of their lives.
THE NIGHT feels heavy in the best way—cool air brushing against Paige’s skin, her hoodie soft against her arms, and the low hum of cicadas filling the spaces between quiet laughter. It’s dark now, the kind of dark that stretches across the park like a blanket, broken only by the dim glow of the streetlamp by the parking lot and the stars above. The four of them—Paige, Dani, Thaliah, and Jalen—are settled into their usual spots at the park they’ve claimed since what feels like forever. The basketball court has cracks they know like the backs of their hands, the picnic table has their initials carved into the wood, and everything about it feels like home.
Paige leans against the basketball hoop, dribbling lazily as Jalen sets up for a halfhearted shot. He misses—terribly—and Paige laughs, grabbing the rebound and tossing the ball back to him. “Bro,” she teases, “you might need to rethink that NBA dream.”
Jalen points at her, mock offended. “You laugh now, but when I’m in the league, you’re not getting courtside tickets.”
“Good,” Paige fires back with a grin. “I’ll be too busy winning nattys at UConn anyway.”
The words feel easy, automatic, but they carry a weight she’s only just starting to realize. UConn. Storrs. It’s been this abstract, glittering thing for so long, but now it’s real—a fresh start, a new chapter. Summer sessions start in just a couple weeks. Basketball in the basketball capital of the world. And Dani. Dani will be there too.
She glances toward the picnic table, where Dani’s sitting shoulder to shoulder with Thaliah, both of them half-focused on Thaliah’s phone. Milkshakes sit abandoned on the table, sweating in the humid air, and Dani’s curled hair falls into her face as she leans closer to the screen. Paige watches her for a moment, her grin softening into something quieter.
“Aye,” Jalen says, nudging Paige with his elbow and smirking a little. “You good?”
“Hm?�� Paige blinks, startled out of her thoughts. “Yeah, I’m good.” She spins the basketball once, catching it easily. “Just thinking about how much better I am than you.”
Jalen groans. “Aight, thin ice, Bueckers.”
Paige laughs, tossing the ball his way before walking toward the table, her curiosity piqued by whatever has Dani and Thaliah so engrossed. She hops up onto the bench beside Dani, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. “What’s so fascinating?”
Thaliah glances up briefly, holding her phone out so Paige can see. “My roommate at UCLA,” she says, scrolling through an Instagram profile of a girl with tanned skin and lots of beach photos. “She’s already from Cali, so.”
“Hmm,” Paige hums, tilting her head as she studies the photos. “She seems chill.”
“I think so too,” Dani agrees.
Thaliah nods. “Yeah, she’s nice. We’ve been texting. She’s into film, which gives us somethin’ in common, and she’s already invited me to a festival this fall. I think we’re gonna get along.”
Paige nods at the words before watching Dani groan dramatically, leaning her head against Thaliah’s shoulder. “I still can’t believe you’re gonna be in sunny LA while I’m stuck in Storrs with this creature.” She gestures lazily in Paige’s direction without looking up.
“Aye!” Paige exclaims, feigning offense. She ruffles Dani’s curls lightly, earning an indignant squawk. “Watch that mouth.”
Dani swats at Paige’s hand but grins, leaning back in her seat, humming, “Mhm.”
Paige smirks. “It’ll be fun, you know it.”
“Debatable,” Dani shoots back, but there’s a warmth in her tone that makes Paige’s chest feel strangely tight.
Jalen finally joins them, the basketball tucked under one arm. He stands behind them, leaning over to try and get a glimpse. “What’re we looking at?”
“My future roomie,” Thaliah says, holding up her phone again.
Jalen squints at the screen, then nods approvingly. “Damn. She fine.”
Dani bursts out laughing, nearly spilling her milkshake as Thaliah groans and mutters something about boys being predictable. Paige just shakes her head, leaning back on the bench and letting the easy rhythm of their banter wash over her. It’s moments like this, she thinks, that she’s going to miss most.
But then Dani’s hand brushes against hers, her fingers curling briefly around Paige’s, and she thinks maybe she doesn’t have to miss it. Not really. Not when Dani’s right here, and when tomorrow, and every day after, will start with both of them heading toward the same place. Together.
Jalen’s phone buzzes on the bench, the screen lighting up with a notification. Paige notices it before he does and glances over, catching the slight furrow in his brow as he picks it up and reads the message. “Ah, man,” he says, standing and shoving the phone into his pocket. “My mom’s tellin’ me to get home. Graduation tomorrow and all.”
Thaliah stretches, groaning a little as she stands. “Guess I’m out too, then. He’s my ride.”
Paige frowns, tilting her head at them. “Wow, ditching us already?”
Thaliah smirks as she grabs her jacket. “Hey, not all of us can be completely irresponsible. Some of us have families that enforce things like curfews and sleep schedules.”
“Lame,” Paige teases, but she stands to hug Jalen, patting him on the back. “Congrats ahead of time, though. Have fun tomorrow.”
Jalen grins, hugging her back.
Thaliah waves as they head toward the parking lot, leaving Paige and Dani alone on the weathered wooden bench. The night feels quieter now, though not uncomfortable—just different. The cicadas hum in the trees, and the faint smell of grass and pavement lingers in the air. Paige lets herself enjoy the moment for a second, her gaze drifting over to Dani.
Dani sits quietly, staring out at the court, her expression unreadable. It’s the kind of stillness Dani falls into sometimes, where Paige knows she’s in her head about something but won’t say what.
Paige stands, grabbing the basketball from beside her and turning it over in her hands. The weight of it feels familiar and grounding. “Play with me?”
Dani turns to look at her, eyebrows raised. “What?”
“Play with me,” Paige repeats, her tone lighter, teasing. She bounces the ball once against the ground for emphasis.
Dani snorts. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious.” Paige grins, holding the ball against her hip.
“Uh-uh,” Dani protests, shaking her head. “We both know how that’ll end.”
“And?” Paige arches a brow.
Dani doesn’t move, her expression skeptical. Paige rolls her eyes, stepping closer and grabbing Dani’s hand, tugging her to her feet. Dani resists for about half a second before giving in with an exasperated sigh.
“You’re annoying, you know that?” Dani mutters.
“Yep.” Paige leads her toward the court, the basketball bouncing lightly in her other hand.
Once they’re on the court, Paige dribbles a couple of times before passing the ball to Dani. “1v1,” she says, her voice challenging.
Dani catches the ball awkwardly, holding it for a moment as she stares at Paige. “This is stupid,” she says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth now. “We both know who’s gonna win.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Paige replies, dropping into a defensive stance. “C’mon. Play.”
With a small shake of her head, Dani starts to dribble—slowly, clumsily. The ball bounces unevenly against the pavement, and Paige bites back a laugh. She gives Dani a few seconds before darting in to steal the ball.
Dani yelps and pulls the ball to her chest, her arms wrapping protectively around it like it’s a lifeline.
“That is illegal!” Paige exclaims, standing in front of her with her hands on her hips.
“Then quit tryna take it from me!” Dani fires back, her voice half-laughing, half-exasperated as she shifts away from Paige.
Paige grins, circling around Dani like a shark. “Aight, fine. If you wanna be like that, we can be like that.”
Before Dani can respond, Paige lunges, trying to pry the ball free. When that doesn’t work, her fingers find their way to Dani’s ribs, tickling mercilessly.
Dani shrieks, laughter spilling out of her uncontrollably. “Paige! Stop!” she yells, twisting and turning to escape, but Paige keeps going, grinning against her ear.
“This… is… definitely… a… foul!” Dani manages between gasps, her laughter growing louder as her grip on the ball falters.
“Don’t care,” Paige replies, her voice smug as she tickles harder. Dani’s back presses into Paige’s chest as she struggles, her legs wobbling beneath her.
Paige spins the brunette around, her fingers relentless against Dani’s ribs, tickling so hard that Dani’s squealing, “Paige!” nearly collapsing under the weight of her laughter.
Finally, Paige relents, stepping back as the basketball slips from Dani’s grasp and rolls across the court. Dani leans against Paige, panting and giggling, her forehead pressing lightly into Paige’s chest.
“I hate you,” Dani mutters breathlessly, swatting weakly at Paige’s hoodie.
Paige just grins, her hands settling on Dani’s hips. “Nah, you don’t.”
Dani pulls back slightly, glaring up at her with an exaggerated pout. “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Paige replies, her voice softer now, teasing but with an edge of sincerity. Paige’s grin widens, her hand sliding upward to cup Dani’s jaw. Her thumb brushes lightly against Dani’s cheek as she leans in, her voice barely above a whisper. “C’mon, Dan, you don’t hate me.”
Dani rolls her eyes, relenting. Paige thinks she hears her breath catch. “No, I don’t.”
And then Paige tilts her head, her lips brushing against Dani’s, soft at first, as if feeling the rhythm of the moment. But then, the hesitation fades. Paige presses forward, coaxing Dani’s lips to part, and with a quiet, deep inhale, her tongue slips into Dani’s mouth.
Paige feels Dani’s mouth opening slightly more, a sigh escaping her lips. She shifts closer, hands sliding down from Paige’s chest to her sides, pulling them tighter together, the warmth of her body mingling with Paige’s. Their tongues tangle, teeth clashing slightly.
Paige’s hand on Dani’s hip trails downward, fingers slipping, finding purchase on the curve of her ass. She squeezes lightly, feeling the taut muscle beneath her fingertips, and that small movement has Dani grinning against her lips, the playful smirk against Paige’s mouth making Paige’s stomach flip.
Paige lets out a soft laugh through the kiss, a breathless sound, but she doesn’t pull away. She deepens the kiss instead, her fingers pressing a little harder, pulling Dani closer still. It’s like a slow burn, the way their bodies are melting together, hot and heavy but not frantic.
Paige takes her time. She lets her lips linger, firm but careful, savoring the way Dani responds. There’s a heat between them, an energy that buzzes under Paige’s skin, but she reins it in, keeps it simmering just beneath the surface. This moment isn’t about rushing forward—it’s about Dani, about the way she fits so perfectly in Paige’s hands, the way her lips feel impossibly soft and warm, the way she melts into the kiss.
Dani shifts slightly, her hands sliding up from Paige’s chest to loop around her neck. It pulls Paige down further, and she lets it happen, leaning into the touch, into Dani. The kiss slows for a beat, their lips brushing more gently now, like the initial spark has given way to something softer, something steadier.
Paige pulls back just an inch, her forehead resting against Dani’s. She opens her eyes slowly, and the sight of Dani—her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly swollen, her eyes half-lidded and searching—nearly takes her breath away.
“Dan,” Paige murmurs, her voice low and a little unsteady.
Dani blinks up at her, her fingers still playing lightly with the hair at the nape of Paige’s neck. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. The way she looks at Paige—like she’s seeing her for the first time and yet has always known her—says everything.
Paige feels her phone buzz against her skin, the vibration pulling her reluctantly out of the moment, out of Dani’s warmth. She lets out a soft breath of frustration, but she’s still not ready to fully pull away. Her hand stays on Dani’s ass, fingers tracing the curve of her hip in a way that keeps their bodies pressed together.
She pulls the phone from her pocket with a sigh, glancing at the screen, but the feeling of Dani still so close, so tangible, is enough to make her hold on just a moment longer. It’s a message from her dad asking if she and Dani want to come back and watch a movie with Drew, Ryan, and Lauren.
She shifts the phone to face Dani, letting her read it for herself. The light from the screen illuminates their faces, casting soft shadows across Dani’s features. For a second, Paige just looks at her, at the way Dani’s brow furrows slightly in thought as she processes the message, and then the way her lips curve into that familiar smile that always does something to Paige’s chest.
“You wanna?” Paige asks quietly, her voice soft but steady, letting Dani know she’s willing to go along with whatever she decides.
Dani looks at the message and then up at Paige, smiling just a little—like the smallest of secrets are being shared. She nods, and that small gesture makes Paige’s heart skip just a little.
“Yeah,” Dani says, her voice barely above a whisper, but there’s something in her tone that makes Paige’s chest tighten with affection. “Let’s go.”
Paige smiles back, the warmth spreading in her chest, and presses one last kiss to the corner of Dani’s mouth. It’s soft, lingering for a second longer than it probably should, but Paige can’t help it. She can’t help but savor the taste of Dani, the way her lips feel like home. It’s like everything before this—before the arguing, before the space between them, before all the pain—has led to this.
This moment. This kiss. And everything that comes after it.
When she pulls back just a fraction, still feeling the heat of Dani’s skin under her hands, Paige wraps her arm around Dani’s waist and guides them back toward the picnic table. Her fingers graze the soft curve of Dani’s waist, a quiet gesture of possession, of love, of a future they haven’t yet fully realized but are starting to piece together.
They collect their milkshakes, Paige grabbing both cups, offering Dani her Oreo one, who takes it with a grateful, quiet smile, and they walk side by side, their shoulders brushing with every step. They don’t say much, the silence between them comfortable, an unspoken understanding that fills the space where words aren’t needed. There’s no pressure, no rush, just the steady rhythm of their footsteps as they head back.
Side by side, they walk back to Paige’s house, their bodies pressed close enough that the warmth between them is constant, never faltering. Neither of them speaks much, but the air between them feels thick with the weight of it all—the unspoken words, the shared memories, the connection that neither of them can deny anymore. They walk in sync, like they’ve always been meant to, and Paige finds that she doesn’t need words to fill the space.
The familiar sights of their neighborhood pass by, the houses and the trees, the sound of their feet on the pavement, the occasional rustle of wind through the leaves. They pass Dani’s dad’s house, and neither of them looks at it. Paige’s mind briefly flickers to that house, to the past, to the pain that had lingered there for so long, but it’s all behind them now. That part of their lives is a closed door, and neither of them needs to open it again.
They reach the front door of Paige’s house, and Paige can’t help but glance at Dani as she opens it. The door opens with a soft creak, and for a brief moment, Paige holds the door open with one hand while she rests her forehead against Dani’s. It’s a simple thing, but there’s something about it, something about the way Dani’s body fits against hers, something about the softness of her skin under Paige’s touch that makes it all feel like it’s meant to be.
And in that moment, Paige knows, without a doubt, that everything before this was just the beginning. Because this—this is their forever.
Then, Lauren calls for them both from inside, telling their names. Dani grins up at Paige, murmuring, “C’mon,” pulling her inside.
And as they step inside the house, with their hands still intertwined, the door closes softly behind them, sealing shut their childhoods, their high school days, and all the ups and downs that surrounded them. The future’s wide open, and Paige and Dani are ready to take that step into it.
#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#take me to church#hopkins p fic#paige bueckers fic#uconn huskies#wcbb#wbb#uconn#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers fluff#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers series#wlw#lgbtq#wcbb x reader
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Talismen: Beginnings
Nicky emerges with an arcane artifact after a bewildering trip through an impossible shop. In wishing his boyfriend was more confident in himself Nicky performs irrevocable and accidental magic upon the world, building his new form and dulling his mind.
And I'm back! Here's the first story of my planned CYOA series, a little long but I love how it turned out! I'll be posting the poll for Part two on Sunday, the 1st of December, the planned options are at the end of the story and it'll only last a day so if you want to take part be on the lookout! At any rate, hope you enjoy and happy to write for you once more! -Occam
It was barbarian weekend at the renaissance festival. Nicky was dressed as a wizard and his boyfriend, Simon, had long planned to go on theme and dress as a barbarian. Though as the day neared and Simon anxiously stared at his decidedly standard figure in the mirror, he instead opted to just throw on a cloak and call it a day. Arriving at the fair the pair, as expected of the theme, find themselves surrounded by burly men clad in kilts with faux fur draped atop chests beyond impressive.
Gawking at hot men is of course par for the course of this kinda event but Nicky can’t help but read the shame and embarrassment creeping into Simon’s expression as he takes in the festivities. When they eventually step into a tavern for a breather Nicky checks in, “Heyyy babe? Everything good? Seem kinda down-” Simon shakes his head and forces a smile, “Don’t worry about me B, I’m aces!” He tosses a wink out for good measure before pointedly changing the topic, “So what was it you said you’re looking to grab this year?”
Nicky narrows his eyes for half a moment wondering if he should push or challenge his clearly sulking boyfriend before deciding to let the sleeping dog lie for now, “Mmmm, I don’t know actually? Probably just an accessory for the costume? Oh! Or maybe some dice?” Simon’s expression changes into a more genuine smile as he grabs at Nicky’s arm and massages it, “Well here’s an idea. We’re right by the dice shop yeah? Howsabout we split up. I’ll grab us some beers and you go check out the offerings. Meet back here?”
Wordlessly agreeing, Nicky leans in for a kiss and relaxes at Simon seemingly perking up. Heading off with a nod, Nicky exits the tavern, preventing him from seeing his boyfriend’s facade fade once more as he contemplates getting a drink or two ahead of his partner before his return from the shops.
Under the impression that Simon has cheered back up, Nick is off to the races. Dice shop just across the way he begins his short trek when suddenly there’s a buzzing in the back of his mind. The sounds of the crowd around him eerily fade as if his ears are waterlogged, he shakes his head from the sudden discomfort and takes a moment to see if anyone else seems to be affected. Before he’s able to inspect his fellow festival-goers he is shocked to see a strange shop he’s never seen before.
Nestled in between a printing press and some soap store Nicky furrows his brow and wonders how he’s possibly missed the shop before now. He’s been coming for years and knows the layout of the festival like the back of his hand. After waiting a few seconds to see if anyone else is entering he takes a cautious step forward and trips as his body tries to take another without his intent. Nicky blushes as he bumps into a brawny barbarian who laughs him off and ruffles his hair, “Watch where yer -urp goin dude huhuh!” Nicky nods an apology and reflexively takes another backwards step towards the apparently new shop. In a sudden need for an expedited retreat from embarrassment, Nicky quickly rushes towards the door and away from the man bumped who eyes him taking a large swig from a tankard.
He hasn’t the chance to notice that each step towards the shop that should not be there is quicker than the one that came before. In no time at all he tears open the door and is inside the quaint cluttered shop. While his eyes adjust from the bright fall day behind him, he takes in the scene as well as he can. The small space is filled with some bitter herbal scent and the air seems to crackle with something similar to static. Nicky of course attributes the strange prickle on his skin to nerves and continues browsing the curious shop.
There’s no real discernible theme to the shop, really it seems to be more of an antique store than anything else. In any normal situation Nicky would have already dipped back out, but something in the back of his mind keeps pulling him in deeper. Walking past strange dolls and stranger bottled liquids, the almost ticklish sensation continues to assail him with unconscious step forward. His spacial awareness tells him he has wandered further than should be possible but it’s almost as if he has no option to continue forward. Coming up on a curtained doorway Nicky’s hands move as if possessed to part the blinds and his eyes finally lay upon what supernatural, impossible thing must be drawing him inward.
It would be the perfect accessory for his costume. It would be the perfect accessory to put on and never take off again. It will be perfect. It will be his. He needs it more than anything. His eyes shine with the ruby tinges reflecting off the talisman as he inches towards the pedestal it lies upon. His hand reaches towards the object of his desires and burns as the prickling sensation comes to a head. He grimaces as it turns to an almost boiling heat before his fingers touch it and the impossibly intense sensation instantly disappears. Nicky jumps due to the sudden almost atmospheric change and before recovering he almost has a heart attack as who must be the shopkeep shouts from behind him, “HELLO HELLO YOUNG NICHOLAS!”
Nicky scrambles to hide behind the pedestal and inspect the mystery man, his vision momentarily tinged scarlet. As the twinges of whatever static sensation filled him moments ago begin to fade totally, he finds himself suddenly able to realize how strange everything about this is. He gulps as he sees a man dressed as a campy wizard adjusting his glasses, “Well it seems you found what you were looking for eh old sport?” Nicky looks down at the still shimmering necklace in his hands, stuttering incoherently as his mind races to understand.
In the half second his eyes were off the wizardly shopkeep, the man has crept up behind once more. Now throwing an arm around Nicky he helps him to his feet and begins leading away from the curtained room, “Hup hup- Now you must be very careful with your words now young Nicholas. Do tell Simon I said hello hm?” Nicky again looks at the necklace in hand and, hanging to the rational world by a thread, inquires, “P- Pay? Did I pay for this?” The wizardly man laughs and pats him on the back, “Oh don’t you worry ah ha ha! Hah.” The wizardly man winks, though even doing so there is an after image of a red eye staring into and through Nicky. The younger man opens his mouth to question the clearly mystic magus of the artifact and his intentions though before he gets a chance the wizard shouts.
“Do have fun at the festival my boy!” with that he brusquely pushes Nicky forward and he finds himself outdoors by a printing press and soap shop. Fearful of turning around to see there is no store there Nicky looks down to find himself wearing the talisman. Grabbing at it he finds the same sensation that filled him minutes ago, though muted. Pleasant. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before he is again bumped into, this time by someone whose vision is clearly obscured by a mask, “Sho- Shorry!” Nicky sighs and apologizes, though the physical sensation and awkwardness brings him back to reality. Shaking off anxiety and pushing down whatever it is just happened he heads off to meet his boyfriend at the tavern.
Returning to find Simon housing his third ale, Nicky quickly downs his own to distract from the strange anxiety that remains persuasive in spite of their reunion. Wishing for distraction, it comes swiftly and in short order the pair are out and about enjoying all the festivities that the faire has to offer, various sloppy meats on a stick, bird shows and jesters, and a firework show to cap it all off. The day soars by in short order and Nicky, wanting to forget about his encounter in that place that wasn't, does just that with shocking, almost supernatural, ease. In fact anything Nicky seems to desire almost falls at his feet. With but an imperceptible red shine in his eyes Nicky finds himself wanting for nothing. The same could not be said for his boyfriend.
After sobering up, his dour jealousy for the superior male form returns and as much as Simon tries to hide it from Nicky, the long day has dulled his ability to disguise anything from his boyfriend. On the long walk back to the car Nicky initially avoids bringing it up, but after an eventful day of getting just about everything he desires, he can’t help but try and get to the root of Simon’s sour attitude. “Can you just tell me what’s up babe?” Groaning as he unlocks the car door the weary man answers, “It’s nothing Nick. I’m just- UGH! I wish I wasn’t so self-concious or had actually gone to the gym or-” turning to see Nicky’s puppy dog eyes for not realzing his discomfort Simon groans and apologies, “Don’t worry it’s fine, I um, I had fun!”
Mind flashing back to the barbarian costume that Simon ultimately decided not to wear, love for his boyfriend overwhelms him and he reaches out to hold his lover’s free hand. Hidden underneath his own cloak, Nicky’s talisman flashes red as the sticky staticky sensation returns stronger than it had been even in the shop. He doesn’t whisper or even coherently think the words as he immediately drifts off to sleep in the passenger seat, but the intention is more than enough for the die to be cast. I wish Nicky had more confidence. I wish he was less self-conscious. I wish he was proud of his body.
Subconscious wish made Nicky’s ruby red eyes remain closed as he falls into an incredibly deep sleep, leaving Simon alone with his thoughts. He squirms slightly behind the wheel as he suddenly feels warm. Mind too muddled to wallow he feels every inch of his body suddenly buzzing with energy, as if an espresso was being dripped into his veins. Looking at his sleeping boyfriend his thoughts shift immediately from self-criticism and body dysmorphia to a lustful, almost primal hunger for his mate. Nicky’s hand still burning hot on his own despite the blaring aircon, he fights the urge to bring the sleeping man’s hand to his cock as it begins to stir.
Before they’ve even left the parking lot Simon is overwhelmed with a lust for his partner stronger than anything he has felt in some time. Hitting the open road he chews his lip to distract from his cock doing its best to pop the seam in his pants, constantly he’s choking down horny grunts and groans to prevent the sleeping Nicky from waking up. Arriving at their shared home, he struggles to gracefully exit the car with his rod standing firmer than he assumed it could. Eventually making it out, he goes to pick up his still sleepy passenger.
With a great deal of effort, Simon successfully stills his hips and quiets his lusts to pick up his sleeping suitor. Baring the urges of his body he realizes that the task is far easier than it should be, Nicky’s not heavy but- Any further inquisition is stilled as he reflexively takes a deep breath of his sleeping lover and is promptly overwhelmed. Nicky’s floral shampoo and deodorant mix with b.o. from an unseasonably warm day in the sun and Simon doesn’t have the strength to quiet the grunt that erupts from him as his cock throbs and prods Nicky in the back.
Eyes blearily open as the sleeping wizard stirs and stretches in the arms of his lover. “Wha? Si?” The self-conscious Simon, embarrassed at waking up his boyfriend quickly puts him down. He blushes as Nicky steadies himself on his arms, still yawning he chastises his boyfriend for letting him fall asleep, “You didn’t *ahwn* didn haf to do tha babe, *awh*” Rubbing his ruby-tinged eyes he can’t quite make out the finer details of his boyfriend, but he would swear he’s looking further up than he usually does to make eye contact. Simon waves him off, “It’s fine, I’m not even tired really.”
Leaning down to give him a hug, Simon angles his head into Nicky’s nape he takes another deep breath, this time not even trying to mute the groan that spills forth, “MMmhm, y’know now that you’re up the night’s still young…” Nicky tilts his head before understanding as Simon’s cock throbs once more into his abdomen, shaking off the sleep Nicky’s own package begins to stir as he leads his partner into their home, “Well now that you mention it~”
Nicky starts disrobing when Simon grabs his hand, some small amount of discomfort hiding in his expression as he asks, “Would you mind if I, um, topped? This time?” Nicky tilts his head before nodding cheerily, “feeling frisky huh?” Nicky performatively poses before seemingly doing some mental math and continuing, “it’s been a minute haha! Let me just hop in the shower real quick and then we’ll have some fun!”
Already feeling like he’s overstepping Simon doesn’t mention his desire for Nicky to not shower. Something feral need within him forces forward an urge to tackle and fuck then and there but he pushes such thoughts down and waits as patiently as he can. Preparing to bottom on such a short notice, Nicky quickly strips and his eyes land upon the talisman hanging from his neck once more. Pursing his lips he goes to take the necklace off, though as his fingers clasp the chain he shivers as it sends a sensitive pang searing through him. Why would he take it off. Feeling immediately more alert and needy, Nicky swiftly hops in the shower to prepare for some fun.
Outside the bathroom his boyfriend taps his foot anxiously, sending a deep, impatient echo through the room. Irritated at the sound he stands and quickly disrobes himself. After getting the cloak off, the room is filled with slight groans of effort as he struggles to get off his shirt. It’s almost stuck to his skin? Probably from sweat he thinks but each time he wrenches it up it only frees about an inch more room. His irritation prevents him from noticing how it decidedly hugs new weight on his chest or cuts into apparently thicker biceps.
The sound of the shirt straining fills the room and he grinds his teeth as the prospect of being stuck in the top any longer is unbearable. His hands stretch longer and strain shifts to tearing as he rips the tunic off with a grunt. Exposed to the open air is a sweaty body far more impressive than when the man struggled to get ready that morning. Looking at the torn shirt in his hand he blushes as his eyes trail up his forearms and stare at a bicep that’s begging to be flexed.
Stepping out wearing only a towel and his talisman, Nicky smiles as he stares at Simon appreciating his arms, “Couldn’t have waited for me to put on the show huh?” Simon turns to see his boyfriend drop the towel and he loses control. Any sign of intelligence in his eyes vacates as he manhandles the man onto the bed. For his part Nicky assumes this to be roleplay, almost giggling from delight as the typically meek man ragdolls him onto the bed. Drool leaks from Simon's maw as he grunts and groans, struggling to free the throbbing package still trapped in his shorts.
Being straddled, Nick takes the chance to carefully observe his boyfriend’s body, appreciating the view that he seldom gets. For the life of him he doesn’t understand why Si got so worked up, with arms like that and a chest- or? When did he start working out actually? Nicky frees a hand to touch the man’s powerful torso and Simon shivers, reflexively rutting into him as his cock growing even harder sends the sound of fabric straining through the room. He’s decidedly firmer, heavier. Nicky sees hair begin to grow on the man’s chest and his mind for half a second hears the echoing laughter of a man he wished to forget. Though there’s no time to think as Simon goes for the tried and true method of just ripping his clothes off.
Eyes wide with wonder, Nicky watches as biceps bulge larger with each tug, shoulder span expanding as his hands yank and tear. His mouth falls open as he sees a cock clearly larger than the one that he knows Simon to have. Gulping as he realizes he’s agreed to take this dick that stretches up to his sternum, Nicky blushes and Simon smirks as he leans down to snarl or whisper something in his lover’s ear.
Nicky feels pre dripping onto his chest as the larger man leans down, his arms land to either side of the man exposing pits dripping with sweat and just before he speaks or growls, the talisman flashes red. Eyes focused on each other neither man sees some shard of light go from the charm into Simon. His eyes roll back and close before he falls down onto Nicky. Immediately concerned for his love, Nicky struggles to shift the man off him and call for help before he hears Simon begin to snore. His body feels like a furnace atop Nicky’s, a cock still erect continues to throb into his stomach and gush pre in between the two of them. He feels patches of hairs thicker than Simon typically carries scratching him. Nicky tries to force the sleeping oaf off him before quickly tuckering himself out.
It was a long day after all. Nicky yawns as he sees the back of the man lying atop him. It’s not right, too wide, too heavy. His ass is not that large his- ughh. With another shove to wake or move Simon, Nicky feels weariness truly overtake him and his scarlet eyes flutter. The sleeping man moves his arms to hug Nicky tight and the seemingly smaller man has no recourse but to give way, his sides tickled by patches of pit hair dripping with sweat. Nick’s head tips forward a few times as he struggles to stay awake though the sound of his lover’s new snores lull him to sleep.
In the morning Nicky wakes to find himself free from Simon’s grasp, though the man’s sweat stains leave a clear outline around him on the bed and his torso remains sticky from pre. His head aches with a hangover though after the faintest wish that it end, so it does. Groaning he gets to his feet and heads off to shower once more, en route he finds a note from Si: “heyyy babe woke up w so much energy!!! gonna go for a run or to the gym idk :) c u soon thooooo<3” Nicky rubs sleep from his eyes and reads the short note a few times over, “hmmm. Weird.” Shrugging he goes about his day as usual, cleaning up, brewing coffee, doing the crossword. Something in the back of his mind says he usually does this with Simon, but that can’t be right? He’d never want to do that. His eye twitches as unbeknownst to him, with each step further away his love has truly begun to change from his unintentional intentions into a man who will never feel shame again.
Simon doesn’t know why he feels so compelled to get up and at ‘em. For years he has given himself ultimatums, scheduled gym sessions, dieted and done his best, but there has not been a moment in his life where he has felt more drive, more purpose than his flight from their shared bed. It’s like he’s a new man with nothing on his mind but getting some meat on his bones. He barely had the wherewithal to leave a note for his lover, as is clear by the lack of eloquence.
Nor is that the only aspect askew from Simon’s typical self. As his anxiety at being perceived shirtless may suggest, the man is always conscious of how he looks. Rarely does a day go by without Simon giving himself a painstaking once over in front of the mirror, be it applying makeup or designing an outfit. To simply throw on a tshirt and leave without even rinsing his face is anathema, and yet after doing just that and throwing on his boyfriend’s sneakers, finding his own far too tight, he’s out the door well before the sun begins to rise.
His feet fall heavy on the sidewalk as his shabby outfit soon enough finds itself straining. Grimacing at the constriction it becomes clear that these clothes are far too tight and getting tighter with each step it seems. Nevertheless he presses onward until there is stinging pain from his feet struggling against their binds. While he’s been content to ignore or misinterpret the sounds of his own tshirt beginning to fray, as well as the pain that such constriction entails, he doesn’t want to ruin Nicky’s shoes. And so scrambling for somewhere to sit down he hops on a bench and begins to struggle with the laces.
Simon’s toes struggle against frontal fabric while the shoes’ tongues press into laces that simply must be cutting into the tops of his feet. Simon’s mind is clearly slowing down as he takes a few seconds too long to simply watch his feet expand beyond containment before, with a gasp, pain jogs him into action. At first he goes to untie them before he’s unable to recall precisely how to do that. Immediately switching to the task already begun by his growing feet he reaches in and simply tears each shoe in two.
His arms bulge with the effort involved in splitting them in twain, biceps that never were begin to appear and push his short sleeves to their limit as new muscle presses onto his chest. Looking down at his hands, decidedly more masc, the man can do nothing but observe his new form as it begins to extol an untenable price on his mind. With each new manly aspect so too will the cogs of his mind continue to slow.
Looking at his boyfriend's shredded shoes, Simon is immediately guilty though he releases a contented sigh as his feet flex free from their confines. His newly one track mind is then thrown off-course and his eyes narrow at the feet bare on cold concrete. They were not simply chafing or something reasonable of the sort, they are too big. They’re larger than his shoes and seem to still be growing larger. And wait- Why did he leave the house without wearing socks!?
Simon shakes his head to try and focus on one question at a time, though before peace comes there is a searing pain from his legs as his changes continue upward. Calves burst from his bony legs while athletic shorts are clearly strained by thighs that any man would kill for. Thick, perhaps barbarous, curls begin to issue forth from any pore exposed as he clutches with his newly thicker hands into muscle still hardening, still pumping larger.
Grunting loudly, Simon falls off the bench as ever spreading changes spread towards his glutes. His pert ass hardens and grows to a size that would attract attention no matter what he wears to try and hide it under. His whole lower body cramps with growth as his legs extend, wider feet scratching into dirt as calves and thighs lengthen while his pulse continues to race from the shock of this impossible transformation. Struggling with the new weight of self, his rougher hands pressed into the ground his duller mind is unable to reconcile what is happening to him with reality. The sound of blood rushing through his ears mutes the world around him and at the slightest lapse he simply forgets.
“Why am I on my hands?” Through bleary eyes he stares at hands too wide, fingers longer and thicker. He trails upward and almost scoffs as he sees forearms and biceps not nearly as defined as they should be, after another moment mouth agog he guffaws as he presumes to have put one and one together, “Oh ahuhuh- I must be workin’ out here?” Licking his lips as he is filled with an otherworldly surge of energy, Simon gets started following one of the most common impulses that is to evermore make itself at home in his mind. He starts doing some push ups.
Immediately do his biceps burn with effort as they put on weight at an impossible rate. Simon grunts with the effort of taking the wheel and commanding his body to be more powerful. His heart pounds in his chest as, just like every piece of fabric before, his shirt quickly gives way outright to the progress of growth. To the strengthening of self. With each dip towards the earth his pecs come closer to touching the cold soil before bouncing as his powerful arms rocket him back upwards with precision.
Simon continues exercising until his arms burn as numb as his new, slower mind. Not only does muscle continue to pack on with every punch upwards, but his impressive form is just as quickly patterned with burgeoning body hair. Sweat drips down onto a chest rapidly peppered with curls and steams off a back which holds hair slowly rising from his lightly furred ass. Sweaty steam trails upwards from widening shoulders and bulky traps into the cold autumn air as heavy breath mists from behind gnashing teeth. Nowhere does the hair grow thicker than under his powerful arms as a jungle of hair grows outward from his pits and sends distinct trails of sweat down his trunk like biceps and across his hulking pecs.
Body hair and brawn are not the only decidedly improved aspects of the man either. Just as he continues to pack on muscle with each thrust upwards, so too is his crotch pulled closer to the ground with every descent. His briefs struggle against a package rapidly growing beyond any tenable containment. Balls bulge larger to supply his impressive form with the hormones required for the growth he demands of it, pubes cascading upward and outward as they strive to assert that Simon’s masculinity shall never be in question.
So too does his cock throb and push against the confines of his underwear enough to be plainly visible. Not only from growing erect as his heart races, but from expanding to be the most impressive rod either he or his lover have ever seen. With the slightest glance down to see his new cock, he smirks and shivers as he imagines topping Nicky with that beast.
This of course sends such a powerful surge of lust through him that the bulging cock immediately bursts free from the briefs outright, leaving him clad in nothing. His cock, now free, drips pre onto the earth as he continues working out a few moments longer in the buff, plain for anyone to see were the streets not thankfully empty. Guffawing to himself after thrusting his new cock into the ground a few times in the process of pushing up, Simon’s new bovine mind eventually realizes he’s fully nude and public and quickly stumbles to his feet. “Oh shit huhuh-” He stands and scratches the back of his head and tries to plan some form of escape, in the process he flexes his bicep and can’t help but smirk as he sees the veins bulging along its impressive length.
Feeling his still turgid cock bounce with every slight movement, he continues laughing before looking down to see shredded clothes scattered at his colossal feet. Seeing the pile of clothes outgrown, Simon does everything short of drooling as he for the first time takes in his new form. Massive hands trail across padded muscle as the urgency of covering his dick fades from his mind.
When his sweaty pecs begin to glimmer from the rising sun he is immediately thrown back into awareness of his active criminal behavior. Checking the coast is clear once more, he pauses for a moment wondering what the big deal is about public nudity before being chastised by some internal Nicky. Simon turns back to the bench and laughs dumbly as he sees his gym bag lying discarded.
Pouncing like an animal, he quickly tears into and retrieves shorts that will surely leave nothing to the imagination. Nevertheless he throws them on and grimaces as they tightly hug his ass and package. Seeing shirts thrown to the side he scratches his face and his face quivers as he feels stubble grace it for the first time. He purses his lips just to feel a moustache scratch his nose and absolutely disregards the idea that he needs a shirt. Why would he cover up anything beyond what is necessary. Surely the world would be more than grateful at the chance to see his form he asserts, bouncing his pecs and chuckling as he does so.
Finding himself with nothing to do besides appreciate how built he truly is now, Simon uses his phone as a mirror to inspect every angle and uses whatever sparing space in his mind to keep track of the best ones. The massive man shivers as the sweaty steam rising from him briefly glimmers red, making it clear that Nicky’s will has been enacted on his lover and announcing the fulfillment of his will. Nevermore will he be self-conscious, quite the opposite in fact. As morning commuters begin their grind many offer a passing glance to the by all accounts himbo drooling at his own reflection, and never does one escape without receiving a wink or flex from the man.
When a pair of jocks eye him with jealousy on the way to class he holds back laughter, the idea that not twenty-four hours ago he was just like them, smaller even, is inconceivable to the new man. Though to be fair, much now lies beyond the realm of conceivability for the man. He thinks about offering some tips to the pair though refrains as something needles him far, far in the back of his simple mind. There was something he was supposed to do yeah?
Furrowing his brow in as deep a concentration as he can muster, Simon’s eyes close and his hands clench at his head as he tries to think. Laundry? Huhuh as if- Meal prep? Then why would he be out here? Simon starts groaning in frustration and tapping his larger, still bare, foot on the sidewalk. Ephemeral ideas he might have latched onto in a life before this one drift past before he gives up and sits down, crossing his arms. The bench creaks under his new weight as he almost petulantly reclines, head back and eyes blank.
Suddenly he jolts up and almost hits himself for not doing the obvious straight away. Obviously Nicky’ll know what to do! His clumsy hands struggle to get his phone from the pocket of his shorts and he smiles at the lock screen, a picture of Nicky being smothered by his massive arms. Simon then squints and bites his tongue in concentration as now even this requires some degree of effort. Quickly enough he dials up his beau and almost vibrates from the excitement of hearing his voice.
Back at home Nicky is playing a game though squeezes the phone in his headset as he sees Simon calling, “Hey baby? What’s up, early start today huh?” Would that he had a tail to wag, Simon laughs and answers, “ha uhhh, yeah somethin’ like that- uhhhhh. Yo did you uh, know what I was plannin’ on doing this morning?” Nicky tilts his head, for a moment he swears something is off with his boyfriend’s voice. Then his eyes go blank and his vision flickers red before, no it’s always been like that? Nicky swears something about his long hours at the gym over the years made him drop a few octaves but that’s neither here nor there.
Nicky shakes off this small stupor, “Yeah Si, you said you were going to the gym no?” an eye twitches, “y’know, like usual?” Excitement once more sets fire in Simon’s veins as he nods and laughs at himself for forgetting such a simple routine, “Ahhh what would I do without you babe huhuh!” He kisses his cellphone and winks at a woman walking her dog who was giving him a side-eye. “Well you have fun dude! Gonna go get a MASSIVE pump in!” Nicky wryly grins and rolls his eyes, “you too, you too b, see you later-” With that he gets back to the game, intentionally ignoring the crimson buzzing at the back of his mind as both men set off to tackle the obstacles of the day, totally unaware of the lives they are to unintentionally change evermore.
Potentialities: (Poll on Sunday the First at 12 AM CST)
Gonna keep this one limited as a test run! If you have any suggestions or ideas for the next poll please shout! Happy to get real wacky with it if there’s an interest!
Nicky Routes:
Grow up you asshole: Getting flamed in game Nicky’s clapback teaches a gamer to be a real man (Bear/Dilf TF)
Man you always play him: Well intentioned words bring his gamer friend far closer in mind, body, and spirit to his favorite character- Fictional character TF (Would prompt another poll for sure, haven’t done one of these before but if there’s a demand we’ll see!)
Simon Routes: (More standard faire jock/himbo tfs)
Sorry for the backwash bro: Accidentally sharing a drink causes his himbofication to spread
Let’s get pumped: Simon finds work as a personal trainer and is far more effective than he has any right to be
#male tf#muscle tf#mental change#dumber#reality change#hair growth#jockification#male transformation#masculinization#talismen
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AWKWARD — nicholas a. chavez
masterlist | inspo playlist
summary — a close friend’s destination wedding turns into an impromptu reunion between you and your all-grown-up college fuck-buddy. old flames reignite and tensions simmer in the italian sun, as you learn some sparks never really snuff out. inspired by awkward by sza.
word count — 25.1k
tags/warnings — feat. joshua hong, kim mingyu, a few other var. idols + ocs. fem!reader. forced proximity(?). eloping. 2 suggestive scenes. alcohol consumption (they’re in italy, it’s a lot of wine but nobody is drunk). best friends to lovers to scorned ex-situationship to friends to ???. angst for like 10 words because i just want everybody to be happy. josh and dae are plotting and scheming.
a/n — this is the longest piece i’ve written in years so i hope that you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. if anyone is interested besides me i may revisit these two in future as i am now Extremely emotionally attached to them. dedicated to my beautiful @titsout4nicholas who beta-read this and helped me flesh it out when i was stuck. please check out her writing at well!
DAY ONE
The cab winds its way up a narrow, cobblestone path, the engine purring as the late afternoon sun bathes the landscape in a golden glow. Between clusters of cypress trees, you catch glimpses of Lake Como shimmering like molten silver. The air feels impossibly clean, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers.
Joshua’s family villa looms ahead—a masterpiece of terracotta and ivy, perched like a crown atop the hill. You exhale slowly, the flutter in your stomach intensifying. You’ve travelled halfway across the world for this.
The cab stops in front of the grand iron gates, and you step out, your heels clicking against the stones. The estate is larger than you imagined, almost intimidating in its elegance. Joshua had joked in his messages that his aunt’s villa could host royalty, and now, standing here, you’re beginning to think he wasn’t exaggerating.
You press the buzzer, your nerves prickling as the gate buzzes open. Your suitcase rattles behind you as you make your way up the cobblestone driveway, flanked by gardens bursting with lavender and roses. The door opens before you can knock, and Joshua steps out, a grin already splitting his face.
“You made it!” His voice is warm, just like you remember, and the sight of him is enough to loosen the knot in your chest.
“Barely,” you tease, letting him pull you into a hug. “You didn’t mention how many hills I’d have to climb just to get here.”
He laughs, stepping back to look you over. “Italy suits you. You’re already glowing.”
“Please, I’ve been here for less than an hour,” you say, shaking your head.
“Well, Dae’s going to lose it when she sees you,” he says, ushering you inside.
The entryway is breathtaking—vaulted ceilings, marble floors, and soft sunlight pouring in through tall windows. There’s a faint citrusy smell in the air, mixed with fresh flowers. It’s almost too much to take in all at once.
“Where is Dae?” you ask as you trail behind Joshua.
“Probably trying to micromanage something,” he says with a fond roll of his eyes. “You know how she gets. Let me call her—”
Before he can finish, Dae appears at the top of the sweeping staircase. She practically sprints down, her steps light despite the heels she’s wearing. “You’re finally here!”
She pulls you into a tight hug, her excitement radiating off her in waves. “You look amazing,” she says, holding you at arm’s length for a moment.
“So do you,” you reply, meaning it. Her hair is swept up in a sleek ponytail, and she’s wearing a crisp white blouse that somehow looks effortless and chic.
“We’ve missed you,” she says, looping her arm through yours and steering you toward the living room. “Come on, let’s get you settled. You can tell us all about your flight, work—oh, and your love life.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Please,” Joshua chimes in from behind. “You’ve been suspiciously quiet in the group chat. That usually means something juicy is going on.”
“I’m literally here for your wedding,” you say, trying to deflect.
“And we love that for us,” Dae says with a grin. “But don’t think for a second you’re getting out of story time later.”
Their easy banter pulls you in, warming you from the inside out. For a moment, it’s as though no time has passed since the four of you spent late nights cramming for finals in your college apartment.
But there’s an undercurrent of unease you can’t quite shake. It surfaces when Dae casually mentions that some of their other friends will be arriving later. When you ask who, Joshua cuts in with a teasing, “You’ll see,” before Dae can answer.
The villa’s guest room is as luxurious as you expected, with a high ceiling, a plush king-sized bed, and a balcony that overlooks the lake. You set your suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed and sink onto the mattress, letting out a long breath. The journey here had been a blur of airports, connections, and winding roads, but now, with the late-afternoon sun warming the tiled floor, the reality of being here finally settles in.
The villa hums with quiet life. Somewhere below, you can hear the soft clatter of dishes and distant laughter. Outside, the breeze carries the faint scent of lavender and rosemary, mingling with the warmth of the sun-soaked air.
You had barely finished catching your breath when Dae showed up, practically dragging you out of the room for a whirlwind tour of the estate.
“This place is magic,” she’d said, her excitement infectious as she led you down stone corridors and through hidden courtyards. Every turn revealed something new—a secluded fountain framed by climbing roses, a sun-dappled veranda, a cozy library tucked away on the second floor. “We’re using the garden for the ceremony. Just wait until you see it.”
The tour ended on the dining terrace, overlooking the shimmering lake. A long, rustic table had already been set with crisp linens, flickering candles, and bursts of wildflowers.
“This is where dinner will be,” Dae had said, her voice softer, almost reverent. “We wanted it to feel intimate, you know? Like something you’d do at home, but—”
“Much fancier,” you’d finished for her, smiling.
Now, back in your room, you find yourself lingering on the balcony, taking it all in. The lake stretches out below, its surface catching the last golden rays of sunlight. The moment feels quiet, still, a sharp contrast to the rush of life back home.
You let out a slow breath, resting your hands on the cool stone of the railing. It had been too long since you’d had a moment like this—too long since you’d seen Dae and Joshua, too long since you’d allowed yourself to just stop.
A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts.
“It’s me!” Dae calls brightly.
You open the door to find her grinning, a whirlwind of energy in an elegant cream dress. “Dinner’s starting soon,” she says, glancing at you from head to toe. “Wow. You look amazing.”
You glance down at your outfit—a deep green dress that hugs your figure in all the right places. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“Not bad? Excuse me, I look incredible,” she quips, flipping her hair dramatically before looping her arm through yours. “Come on. We’re sitting together, and you’ll want a drink before Josh starts his toast. He’s been rehearsing.”
The walk to the terrace feels like stepping into another world. The garden glows under strings of fairy lights, the long table a picture of effortless elegance. Music drifts softly in the background, mingling with the sound of laughter as Joshua holds court near the head of the table, gesturing animatedly.
“You did all this?” you ask Dae, marvelling at the details—the flowers, the candles, the cosy but luxurious ambiance.
She gives you a sheepish smile. “I had help, but yeah. It’s what we wanted—something small, personal. Just the people who matter most.”
Her words tug at something in your chest, and you squeeze her arm gently. “It’s perfect.”
As you take your seat, the warmth of the evening wraps around you, the glow of the lights adding a touch of magic to the scene. It feels like the start of something—not just a celebration, but maybe a shift, a moment to breathe and reconnect with the people who shaped the most important parts of your life.
“Breathe it in,” Dae says, nudging you with a grin. “This is just the beginning.”
The conversation around the table is light and easy, buoyed by Joshua’s endless charm and Dae’s quick wit. You find yourself laughing more than you expected, the warmth of the evening sinking into your shoulders and softening the edges of your travel fatigue.
“You two have met, right?” Dae asks suddenly, sliding back into the chair beside you after a round of wine refills.
You shake your head, glancing at the man Dae gestures to, sitting a few seats down. He’s hard to miss—tall, broad-shouldered, and ridiculously good-looking in a crisp white shirt that somehow makes him look even more tanned than he already is.
“Mingyu, this is my friend,” Dae says, leaning forward to catch his attention. “You’ll love her.”
Mingyu looks up, his easy grin spreading as he shifts his chair closer. “Ah, I’ve heard stories. You guys met in high school, right?”
You nod, offering a polite smile. “We did. And you’re…?”
“Mingyu,” he says, his voice smooth and warm. “Friend of Joshua’s. He’s been telling me about you guys for years.” He tilts his head, his dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. “You’re the one who keeps them in check, right?”
You laugh softly. “Someone has to.”
Dae nudges your arm, grinning. “Mingyu’s one of those guys who knows a little about everything. And he’s annoyingly good at all of it.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Mingyu says, leaning back casually. “I’m just here for the wine and the view.” His eyes flick to you for a moment, the faintest hint of flirtation in his tone.
You arch an eyebrow but say nothing, sipping your wine instead.
The conversation flows easily, with Mingyu sliding into the dynamic like he’s always been part of it. He teases Dae relentlessly, compliments her taste in wine, and somehow makes Joshua laugh so hard he has to set down his glass.
It’s almost enough to distract you from the quiet sense of anticipation that’s been building since the moment you arrived.
Almost.
You’re just about to ask Mingyu something about his work—he’s in hospitality, or maybe it was hotels?—when the quiet murmur of someone arriving pulls your attention to the garden gate.
Joshua stands, grinning broadly as he strides toward the gate. “Finally! Look who decided to show up!”
Your stomach twists sharply, and you glance instinctively toward the entrance.
Nicholas stands there, sweater slung over one shoulder, his shirt slightly rumpled as though he’d barely had time to catch his breath before arriving. The warm glow of the garden lights casts soft shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw and the familiar intensity in his eyes.
Your fingers tighten around your wine glass.
He scans the group quickly, his expression carefully composed, but when his gaze lands on you, it falters just slightly. His lips part, and for a second, he looks…stunned. Like he hadn’t let himself consider the possibility of seeing you here, even though he should have known.
Then Joshua breaks the spell, clapping Nicholas on the back and pulling him into the fold. “Tough flight?”
“Delayed out of LAX,” Nicholas says simply, his voice as calm and measured as you remember. “But I made it.”
“And just in time,” Dae chimes in, standing to give him a quick hug. “We saved you a seat.”
Your stomach sinks as you realize exactly where that seat is.
Directly across from you.
Nicholas hesitates for the briefest of moments, his eyes flicking back to you as though weighing whether he has a choice. Then he lowers himself into the chair, nodding at the group.
The conversation resumes quickly, Joshua launching into a toast that draws laughter and applause, but you’re hyperaware of Nicholas’s presence, the quiet tension crackling in the air between you.
“Hi,” he says softly, leaning just slightly forward.
You force yourself to meet his gaze, offering a polite smile. “Hi, Nic.”
“Nic?” Mingyu interjects, leaning forward with a curious tilt of his head. “You two know each other?”
The question hangs in the air, and you feel Nicholas’s eyes on you, waiting for your response.
“He’s the fourth, in the core four. We went to college together,” you say evenly, keeping your tone light.
“More like survived college together,” Nicholas adds, his voice carrying just the faintest edge of warmth.
Mingyu glances between the two of you, something flickering behind his amused expression, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he leans back in his chair, that easy grin returning. “Must have been some college.”
Nicholas’s jaw tightens slightly, though he doesn’t respond.
You sip your wine, doing your best to ignore the heat creeping up your neck as the conversation shifts away from you. But every so often, you catch Nicholas watching, his expression unreadable, and you can’t quite shake the feeling that you’ve been pulled into something you’re not ready to navigate.
And when Mingyu leans closer later in the evening, his voice low and teasing as he asks about your plans for the week, you don’t miss the subtle way Nicholas stiffens, his eyes flicking briefly in your direction.
For the first time tonight, you let yourself smile—not for Mingyu, not even for yourself, but for the quiet satisfaction of knowing Nicholas is watching.
The evening stretches on, the laughter around the table mellowing as glasses empty and conversations shift. You’ve managed to find a rhythm, the conversation flowing with Mingyu, Dae, and Joshua, but the tension between you and Nicholas lingers in the background like an uninvited guest.
Mingyu’s presence has certainly helped lighten the mood, and you find yourself laughing more easily than you expected, your earlier discomfort slowly melting away. His stories are ridiculous, and his charm is disarming in the best way, but there’s no denying the undercurrent of awareness that pulses through the room whenever your gaze meets Nic’s. It’s like there’s an invisible thread pulling you back to a time that feels both distant and incredibly close.
“Alright, alright,” Joshua finally says, pushing his chair back as the conversation dies down. “We’ll have to call it a night before Mingyu starts telling us about his gym routine again. Believe me, it’s all the same.”
Mingyu laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Guilty. But seriously, you should try it sometime, Joshua. Your abs could use a little work.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Dae interjects with a wink, standing to clear away the empty glasses. “He’s just mad because I won’t let him teach me how to ‘properly’ lift weights.”
You smile at the easy camaraderie between them, but as the evening winds down and the group begins to disband, the weight of the unspoken words between you and Nicholas hangs heavily in the air.
The others drift off in pairs—Joshua playfully nudging Dae as they head toward the kitchen, Mingyu wandering off with a last cheeky grin in your direction. You’re halfway to gathering the last of the plates when Nic’s voice stops you.
“Let me.”
You look up to see him standing there, hands already reaching for the empty bottles on the table. It’s a simple offer, but there’s something in his tone—something softer, unguarded. For a second, you consider brushing him off, but you step back instead, letting him take over.
“Thanks,” you say, your voice quieter than you intended.
Nic glances at you as he sets the bottles down, his expression unreadable. “You’ve had enough on your plate today.”
The comment feels loaded, though you can’t quite pinpoint why. You don’t respond immediately, instead fiddling with the edge of a napkin. He doesn’t move, lingering just close enough that the air between you seems to buzz with unsaid things.
“Long day,” you finally offer, shrugging, but your voice lacks conviction.
Nic leans his hip against the table, his gaze steady on yours. “It doesn’t have to be like this, you know.”
Your chest tightens at his words, though you can’t bring yourself to look away. “Like what?”
“Like we’re strangers.” His voice is low, almost tentative.
You laugh softly, but there’s no humor behind it. “Well, isn’t that what we are now?”
The question hangs between you, heavy and sharp. Nic hesitates, his lips parting like he might argue, but then he seems to think better of it. Instead, he shakes his head slightly, as if trying to shake off the weight of whatever he’s feeling.
“Goodnight,” he says finally, his tone quieter now, but there’s a flicker of something—regret, maybe—in his eyes.
You nod, your voice caught in your throat as you watch him step away. The warmth of his presence lingers even after he’s gone, leaving you with a mix of emotions you can’t quite untangle.
By the time you make it to your room, the house is silent, save for the distant murmur of voices from the terrace. You sit on the edge of the bed, your hands resting in your lap, staring at nothing in particular. The weight of the evening settles over you like a thick, heavy fog, leaving your chest tight and your mind racing.
Nic.
You hadn’t let yourself say his name in your head for so long—not like this, not with every syllable feeling like a stone dropped into the still waters of your life. Seeing him again after all these years had cracked something open, something you’d buried deep and refused to examine.
He hadn’t changed much. The sharpness of his features, the confidence in his posture—it was all still there, though tempered now with a quiet weight that hadn’t been there before. And those moments, brief as they were, when his gaze softened on you, when his words carried a tenderness you weren’t prepared for… they left you raw.
The sight of him stirred up so many conflicting emotions, you didn’t know where to start. The anger—oh, the anger—was still there, simmering just below the surface. How could he leave you the way he had, without a word, without a fight? How could he stand here now, acting like he wanted to bridge a gap he created?
But it wasn’t just anger. It was the ache, the longing that twisted in your chest at the sound of his voice saying your name. It was the flood of memories, unbidden and too vivid: his laugh in the dead of night, the way his fingers curled around yours when he thought no one was looking, the warmth of his breath on your skin as he whispered something only meant for you.
It was the bitterness, too, of realizing how deeply you’d missed him, even when you swore you wouldn’t. Even when you swore you couldn’t.
And now he was here, standing just close enough to stir everything up but not close enough to make it okay. You thought you’d prepared yourself for this—Joshua and Dae had warned you, after all—but nothing could have readied you for the reality of facing him again, for the sharp edges of the past cutting into you with every glance, every word.
What did he want from you? What did he expect? And more terrifyingly, what did you want from him?
The questions swirled in your head, unanswered and overwhelming. You stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to will the thoughts away, but they wouldn’t go.
Part of you wanted to hate him, to let the bitterness overtake everything else. It would be so much easier than confronting the other part of you—the part that remembered what it felt like to love him, to feel safe in the space you’d carved out together, the part that wondered if he was here now to take that away from you all over again.
As you closed your eyes, exhaustion finally pulling at you, one thought lingered above all the rest, heavy and undeniable: what happens next?
And for the first time in years, you realized you weren’t sure if the answer scared you or thrilled you.
DAY TWO
The kitchen is quiet when you enter, the early morning light streaming through the wide windows, casting golden streaks on the wooden floor. Nic is already there, standing at the counter with a mug in hand, wearing a plain white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. The sight of him is… jarring, yet oddly familiar. For a moment, you pause, unsure if you should turn around and leave or brave the awkwardness.
He looks up just as you step in, his posture stiffening slightly. “Morning,” he says, his voice low, like he’s testing the waters.
“Morning,” you reply, keeping your tone neutral as you move to the coffee pot. You’re acutely aware of the space between you—too much history to feel natural, not enough familiarity to feel comfortable.
The silence stretches as you pour your coffee, the sound of liquid hitting the ceramic mug louder than it should be. You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting him to leave, but he stays rooted in place, fiddling with his mug like he wants to say something.
“You sleep okay?” he asks after a beat, his voice casual but his gaze flickering with something heavier.
You nod, not looking at him. “Yeah. You?”
“Yeah.”
The small talk feels unnatural, like both of you are grasping at straws to fill the silence. You take a sip of your coffee, letting the warmth anchor you.
“Well,” you say after a moment, your voice a little too loud in the quiet kitchen. “I’m gonna head out to the terrace.”
Nic nods, stepping aside to give you space as you move past him. The air feels heavy as you walk away, your shoulders tense until you’re outside and the cool morning breeze brushes against your skin.
You settle into one of the cushioned chairs on the terrace, pulling your knees up as you cradle your coffee. The view of the garden below is stunning, but your mind is elsewhere—on the kitchen, on Nic, on the way your chest felt tight just being in the same room as him.
The sliding door creaks open, and a moment later, Dae appears, holding her own mug of tea. She takes one look at you and immediately crosses the terrace to join you, settling into the chair beside yours.
“Stealing my spot already?”
“It’s not your spot. It’s the best spot,” you reply with a faint smile, trying to mask the thoughts spinning in your head.
Dae doesn’t buy it. “You’ve got that look,” she says, tapping her mug against yours. “You’re mulling. Spill it.”
You laugh softly, but there’s no point denying it. “You already know what I’m thinking about,” you say, leaning back in your chair.
“Nic,” Dae states plainly, and you glance away, caught. She leans closer, her smile mischievous. “So, are you going to talk to him? I mean, really talk? Five years is a long time, but… I don’t know. Maybe it’s time.”
You groan, toying with loose thread on your pyjama pants. “Dae, come on. I can barely get through breakfast without feeling like I’m going to drown in all the unresolved… everything. I don’t even know what I’d say to him. It’s not that simple.”
Dae shrugs, her teasing softening into something more thoughtful. “Maybe not, but you two were close once. Really close. And I know what he did was awful, but… he’s different now.”
You narrow your eyes, skeptical. “Different how?”
“I mean, people grow up, you know? They change.” She hesitates, then meets your gaze. “Nic’s talked about it, you know. Over the years. Not all the time, but enough for me to know he regrets it. Deeply. What he did to you.”
You blink, her words hitting harder than you expect. “He… regrets it?”
Dae nods, her expression earnest. “I think he’s always regretted it. He just didn’t know how to fix it—or if he even could. He’s told Josh and me that what he did was the biggest mistake of his life.”
You look away, the weight of her words settling heavily on your chest. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I think you deserve to know,” she says simply. “And I know you don’t owe him anything. Not your forgiveness, not your time, nothing. But I also know you. You don’t let people in easily, and when you do, it’s because they matter to you. He mattered to you once, and maybe—just maybe—it’s worth figuring out if he still does.” Dae watches as you stew on her words. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” you say, though you brace yourself.
“Do you still care about him? I don’t mean, like, pine-after-him care. I mean… as a person. As someone who was once really important to you.”
Her words settle over you like the warmth of the sun, and you know the answer without hesitation. “Yes,” you admit. “I’ll probably always care about him. I don’t know what that means, though.”
Dae smiles softly. “That’s something. And I’m not saying you have to figure it out right now. But…” She hesitates, then laughs lightly. “Okay, this is cheesy, but Josh and I have had our disagreements. Big ones. And what’s always worked for us is being honest. Like, painfully honest. Even when it’s uncomfortable.”
You tilt your head, curious. “He’s never hurt you the way Nic hurt me.”
She nods, serious now. “No, he hasn’t. And that’s huge. It’s not the same, I know that. But you’ve always been one of the strongest people I know. I just don’t want you to close a door without looking through it first, you know?”
You look out over the lake, her words echoing in your mind. The idea of rekindling anything with Nicholas feels impossible, and yet… you’ve spent five years trying to bury something that clearly refuses to stay buried.
“I don’t even know if I want the door open,” you say after a moment, and Dae laughs.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to decide today. Just don’t lock it yet. You’ve got a week, give it some time.”
You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. Dae reaches over and squeezes your hand, the gesture grounding you. You sit together in companionable silence, the morning sun climbing higher as the day stretches ahead, the uncertainty of the week hanging just out of reach.
The estate had a life of its own, buzzing with the quiet hum of excitement and last-minute wedding plans. Over the next few hours, you spent your time catching up with old friends and new faces alike. Joshua’s cousin Johnny, loud and perpetually armed with a joke, seemed to find you every time you lingered near the sitting room.
“You’ve got to stop hiding in here,” he teased, leaning against the doorway as you gazed out the window, book in hand. “Otherwise, we’re all going to think you’ve turned into a hermit.”
Johnny’s relentless energy was matched only by Dae’s younger cousin Theo, who had arrived with his girlfriend, India—a warm and bubbly presence who made you laugh more than once with her stories about Theo’s less-than-graceful attempts at wedding prep.
And then there was Mingyu, effortlessly charming as always, slipping into every conversation with a wink or a quip that made you wonder if he was born to make people feel special. He had a way of lightening the mood, even when you found yourself retreating into your thoughts.
By the afternoon, the rehearsal ceremony began in the estate’s garden. The celebrant, a kind Italian woman with a melodic accent, guided Dae and Joshua through the motions. You stayed off to the side, a silent observer. Watching the way they looked at each other—full of shared history, love, and promise—made your chest ache. It wasn’t envy, not exactly, but it stirred something deep within you, something unresolved.
Yeri, Dae’s younger sister, took her role as maid of honor seriously, adjusting Dae’s dress and making playful jabs about how Joshua would probably cry during the real ceremony. Johnny, Joshua’s best man, was less focused, cracking jokes and dramatically mimicking the celebrant’s gestures until Dae swatted him on the arm.
You smiled at the scene, grateful to be part of such an intimate moment, even as a quiet observer. It felt like a privilege to witness this chapter of their story unfold.
The rehearsal dinner followed shortly after, hosted in a grand but cozy dining room adorned with soft lighting and fragrant floral arrangements. You were seated a few spots away from Nic, with Dae on one side and Theo across from you, his girlfriend India chatting animatedly with Mingyu. Johnny, ever the life of the party, held court a few seats down, keeping everyone entertained with his endless stream of stories.
“So,” Johnny said, pointing a fork toward you, “I just realized this is the first time I’ve seen you in years.” He turned to Joshua. “Wasn’t it your 21st birthday party when we met?”
You nodded, remembering the lavish house party Joshua had thrown during your junior year of college. “Yeah, that sounds about right. You spent half the night in a heated debate about Australian football with one of the bartenders.”
Johnny grinned. “Good times. But hey, I remember more than just the bartender. You two”—he gestured vaguely between you and Nic—“were definitely sneaking off somewhere that night, weren’t you?”
The table quieted slightly, and you felt your cheeks flush. You glanced at Nic, whose expression was neutral but whose jaw tightened just enough for you to notice.
“I mean, I’m not saying I was spying,” Johnny continued, clearly oblivious to the sudden shift in the atmosphere. “But I remember catching a bit of a moment between you two. By the pool? Or was it the kitchen? Anyway—”
“Johnny,” Joshua interrupted smoothly, though there was an edge to his voice. “Let it go.”
Nic chimed in with a dry tone. “I think your memory’s getting creative.”
Johnny blinked, looking between the two of them, then raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. No need to gang up on me. Just saying what I saw.”
“You thought you saw,” Joshua corrected firmly, and Johnny finally seemed to pick up on the fact that the subject was off-limits.
Theo, sensing the tension, jumped in to change the subject. “So, India and I were trying to figure out the best time to visit Florence—any recommendations?”
The conversation shifted to travel plans, and you let out a quiet breath, grateful for the diversion. Still, Johnny’s comment lingered, bringing back flashes of that night—Nic’s hand brushing yours, the way he’d looked at you when he thought no one else was watching.
When dessert was served, you found yourself catching snippets of Nic’s voice as he spoke to Joshua and Mingyu. His laugh was warm, familiar, and it tugged at something deep inside you. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed hearing it.
Every now and then, you felt his gaze drift toward you, but he never let it linger long. It was almost as if he was waiting for the right moment to speak, but the moment never came.
The conversation at the table had settled into a comfortable rhythm after Johnny’s earlier slip-up, everyone enjoying the fine Italian meal and the company. Mingyu, seated just a spot down from Nic, leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass as he listened to Nic talk about his work.
“Josh tells me you’re a prosecutor in LA?” Mingyu asked, his eyebrows lifting in interest.
Nic nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah. Criminal defense first, but I made the switch to prosecution about a year ago. It’s challenging, but I enjoy it. Keeps me sharp.”
Mingyu tilted his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Man, I don’t know how you deal with all that pressure. I’m just behind a counter, trying to make sure pastries look good enough to eat and that customers leave happy.”
Nic chuckled, a hint of admiration in his tone. “Don’t sell yourself short. Managing a bakery chain sounds like it comes with its own kind of stress. And let’s be honest, no one’s day gets worse because of a croissant.”
Mingyu grinned, leaning forward. “True. But the way some people act when we run out of almond tarts? You’d think I committed a crime. At least you’re dealing with actual criminals.”
Nic laughed, shaking his head. “I think I’ll stick with my courtroom drama. Pastry wars sound way too intense for me.”
Mingyu laughed, the sound warm and infectious as he leaned back in his chair. Then his gaze shifted to you, his curiosity genuine. “What about you? What’s your story?”
You took a sip of your wine, smiling. “I’m an oral surgeon.”
Before you could elaborate, Nic’s voice cut in smoothly. “A damn good one, too.”
The unexpected compliment hung in the air, and your cheeks warmed despite yourself. You glanced at Nic, whose expression was sincere, though he quickly looked away, his fingers fidgeting with the stem of his glass.
“Well,” you said with a small shrug, trying to play it off, “he’s not wrong.”
Mingyu grinned, clearly impressed. “Guess I know who to call if I ever need a new jaw.”
You smirked, your response coming easily. “I’m not expecting that call anytime soon. Your jaw looks perfectly fine from where I’m sitting”
The table laughed at your quick retort, and even Nic cracked a smile, though his fingers tightened slightly around his glass. You couldn’t quite tell if it was the flirtation or the ease with which you’d fallen into it that bothered him.
Mingyu leaned in, still grinning. “Good to know I’ve got the expert’s seal of approval.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” you teased lightly, turning your attention back to your plate.
As the conversation shifted again, Nic remained mostly quiet, only chiming in here and there. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was holding back on purpose—or if he was waiting for the right moment to say something more meaningful.
While his praise had flattered you, it also left you feeling a little unsteady. He hadn’t said a word about the way things ended between you, and until he did, it was impossible to tell what his intentions for the week might be.
Still, there was a part of you that wanted to believe the look in his eyes—warm, familiar, and perhaps a little regretful—was a step toward something better, even if you weren’t sure what that better looked like just yet.
The sound of clinking glass and running water draws you toward the kitchen as the evening winds down. Joshua is standing at the sink, rinsing a wine glass with the kind of precision that only he could make look natural. His blazer is draped over the back of a chair, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“You’re not the help, you know,” you say lightly as you step into the room, leaning against the counter.
Joshua glances at you over his shoulder, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And yet, somehow, I’m always cleaning up after Mingyu. He has this uncanny ability to use three glasses for every drink.”
You laugh softly, crossing your arms as you watch him. There’s a brief silence, the kind that only Joshua could make feel comfortable, before he turns off the faucet and turns to face you fully.
“How are you doing?” he asks, his voice gentle but direct.
You blink at him, caught slightly off guard. “I’m fine. Why?”
“Because I know you better than that.” He leans against the counter opposite you, his gaze steady. “It’s a lot. Him being here.”
You sigh, your shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of his words. “I don’t even know how I feel, Josh. Every time I see him, it’s like—” You pause, struggling to find the words. “It’s like this hollow drop in my stomach, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m happy to see him or because I’m… angry that he’s here.”
Joshua tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe it’s both.”
“Maybe.” You chew on your bottom lip, the thoughts swirling in your head louder now that you’ve voiced them. “I don’t even know if I should bring it up. What’s the point, you know? It’s been five years. What am I even supposed to say?”
Joshua steps closer, resting a hand on your shoulder briefly. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. Give it time. You’ve always been the more emotionally mature one between the two of you. I trust you’ll handle it the way you need to.”
His words settle over you like a thin veil of comfort, but the knot in your chest doesn’t entirely loosen.
Without saying anything else, Joshua moves toward the counter and begins brewing you a cup of tea. The soft clink of the kettle and the quiet rustle of the tea bags fill the stillness between you, an unspoken offer of calm in the midst of your swirling thoughts.
He doesn’t need to say much more—his presence alone, steady and unassuming, is enough. As the steam rises from the freshly brewed tea, you take a slow breath, letting the warmth of the moment seep into your bones, even if it doesn’t chase away the uncertainty that lingers.
Joshua sets the mug of tea in front of you, steam curling up into the air between you. The kitchen is quiet now, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound as the rest of the house winds down for the night.
“I’m cutting you off for the weekend,” Joshua says with a teasing smile, leaning against the counter. “No more drip-feeding you wine, or you’ll spend every morning with hangxiety and then blame me for it.”
You laugh softly, cradling the mug in your hands. “You’re not wrong. You’re a terrible influence, though.”
“Hey, I’m the voice of reason tonight,” he counters. “Remember this when you wake up feeling human tomorrow.”
The two of you fall into easy small talk after that—light chatter about the rehearsal, the chaos of planning a wedding abroad, and how Dae is likely still tweaking the seating arrangements upstairs. It’s easy, familiar, a welcome distraction.
But eventually, Joshua straightens and grabs his blazer from the back of the chair. “I’m calling it a night. You should, too.”
You hum noncommittally, staring into your tea. “I will. Soon.”
Joshua doesn’t press. He just rests a hand on your shoulder briefly as he passes. “Don’t overthink it, ‘kay. Not all at once, anyway.”
A soft sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupts your thoughts, and you glance up to find Nic descending into the kitchen, his pyjamas a stark contrast to the polished image he usually presents. There’s something strangely domestic about him in this moment—almost familiar. His hair is mussed, his shoulders relaxed, and for a second, he looks like the Nic you used to know, back when things were easy.
“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, trying to keep things light as he moves toward the counter to fill a glass of water.
He chuckles softly, a hint of weariness in his voice. “Yeah, that or I just didn’t feel like staying in that giant bed all alone. Guess I’m just not used to it.”
The casualness of his tone makes you smile, but there’s a touch of sadness beneath it, something unspoken. He looks over at you, his eyes softer now, not the sharpness from earlier. The room feels smaller, and for the first time since you arrived, the tension between you two feels less suffocating, almost bearable.
Nic leans against the counter, sipping his water, his gaze flickering toward you with a quiet intensity. “I know things were… complicated, back then,” he starts, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. “And I know I left without giving you any real answers.”
You feel a tightness in your chest, the memory of it still fresh, even after all these years. But he doesn’t press further, not yet.
“I don’t expect any huge conversations right now,” Nic adds quickly, his voice taking on a gentler edge. “But if you ever want to talk about… anything, I’m here. I know I screwed up. I just want you to know that.”
The simplicity of it catches you off guard. It’s not a grand gesture or an apology, but it feels like an olive branch, a small offering, an acknowledgment of the past without expecting you to jump right in. There’s a rawness in his words, something real and vulnerable that makes your heart ache, but it doesn’t feel too heavy. Not yet.
He looks at you for a beat longer, as though waiting for something—an answer, maybe, or a sign that you’re willing to meet him halfway. When you don’t immediately respond, he shifts his weight, seeming almost a little self-conscious.
“I mean, you know where I am if you need me,” he adds, his tone lighter, but there’s something there—something sincere. “For whatever it’s worth.”
You can feel the weight of his words, of the quiet truth in them. Maybe it’s nothing more than a flicker of hope, but it feels like a bridge, and you’re not sure what to do with it just yet.
For a moment, you both simply stand there in the kitchen, the sound of the clock ticking the only thing breaking the silence. The tension hasn’t disappeared, not by a long shot, but it feels different now. The air between you isn’t as thick, the distance not quite as vast.
You bring yourself to nod briefly, mustering up a small smile. “Thank you, Nic.”
Nic finishes his water and starts to move toward the stairs, glancing back at you once more. “Well,” he says, with a small, almost reluctant smile, “I’ll be around if you want to talk… whenever you’re ready.”
You nod, unsure of what to say. It’s not much, but it’s enough to make you wonder if maybe there’s a chance, however small, to heal what was broken between you.
As he heads upstairs, you stay in the kitchen a little longer, the warmth of the tea in your hands and his words lingering in the quiet. For the first time since you arrived, you wonder if there might be a way forward. Not right now, but maybe someday.
DAY THREE
The sun is high and warm as you join Dae down by the grass near the steps leading to the lake. She’s sprawled out on a blanket, sunglasses perched on her nose, a chilled spritz in hand. You settle beside her, folding your legs under you and squinting out at the scene below: an impromptu volleyball game on the lawn.
Joshua dives for the ball with reckless enthusiasm, sending Mingyu into a fit of laughter as Johnny yells at him for botching the point. Mingyu sets the ball with ease, his towering frame and effortless movements commanding attention. Nic leaps, shirtless, to spike it over the net, his focus sharp, muscles flexing with precision.
Your eyes catch on him.
It’s the first time you’ve seen Nic shirtless since… well, since that night five years ago, the last time you’d touched him in that way. And what you’re seeing now? It’s very different.
He’s taller—or maybe just broader. His shoulders are like carved stone, his waist tapered and solid. His chest is thick with definition, and his arms look like they could snap a volleyball in half if he wanted to. And then there’s the six-pack, glistening slightly in the sun, drawing your gaze lower, entirely against your will.
Your thoughts betray you, running away into dangerous territory. What would those arms feel like now? Stronger, sure, but what about softer moments—hands brushing over your sides, pulling you closer?
Your thighs clench involuntarily, and the heat rising to your cheeks has nothing to do with the sun.
“You’re staring.”
Dae’s voice pulls you back to reality.
“I’m not staring,” you say, too quickly, shifting your sunglasses down to try and hide your expression.
“You are,” she teases, smirking. “I mean, I don’t blame you—look at him.”
You huff, feigning indifference. “When did he get so… big?”
“Josh says he’s been hitting the gym hard in LA,” Dae says, taking a lazy sip of her drink. “Work stress or something. Whatever it is, it’s working for him. And Mingyu too, for that matter.”
Your gaze flickers to Mingyu, who’s equally shirtless and equally distracting. He’s leaner than Nic, but just as tall, his arms roped with muscle, his easy grin radiating confidence.
Dae leans in closer, dropping her voice conspiratorially. “If things don’t work out with Nic, you could always try your hand at Mingyu. Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”
“Dae,” you hiss, elbowing her, though you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up.
She shrugs, entirely unrepentant, her grin widening. “Just saying. Your options are very tall and very broad right now.”
Before you can respond, the game wraps up with Joshua letting out a triumphant cheer, and Johnny collapses onto the grass in mock defeat. The boys gather near the water, catching their breath.
Josh heads your way, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, babe,” he calls to Dae.
She barely has time to react before he scoops her up, slinging her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing.
“Josh!” she shrieks, laughing as she flails. “Put me down!”
“Nope.” He strides confidently toward the water, ignoring her protests, and wades in until he’s waist-deep before dunking them both under with a laugh.
The others follow, kicking off shoes and tossing towels aside. Nic lingers, glancing up toward you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it seems like he’s about to say something.
But Mingyu beats him to it.
“You just gonna sit there admiring the view,” he calls from the bottom of the steps, his grin playful, “or are you actually gonna join us?”
You roll your eyes, pushing to your feet. “Fine.”
You tug off the oversized t-shirt you’d thrown on earlier, revealing the bikini you’d chosen—a simple design, but it fits well. Age has been kind to your figure. Your hips and breasts are fuller now, your waist more defined. You don’t miss the way Mingyu’s grin widens as he takes you in, nor the way Nic’s jaw tightens before he quickly turns to Johnny, mumbling something about the water.
As you descend the steps, you stop beside Mingyu, arching a brow. “If you stare any harder you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”
His grin turns coy. “Who, me? I’m just appreciating the scenery.”
“Uh-huh,” you deadpan, though you can’t hide the small smirk tugging at your lips.
The cool water was a welcome distraction as you waded in, but it didn’t stop your thoughts from wandering. Mingyu’s easy charm was tempting, but it was the weight of Nic’s presence—the unspoken history between you—that lingered at the edges of your mind. As the morning sun blazed overhead, you couldn’t help but wonder which tension would win out by the end of the week.
You leaned back into the cool water, letting it lap against your shoulders as Mingyu floated closer. His easygoing smile was impossible not to return, and his playful energy seemed to dissolve any tension lingering in the air.
“You know,” he started, tilting his head as he treaded water, “I didn’t peg you as the lake-swimming type.”
You raised a brow, matching his grin. “What gave it away?”
“Oh, just the whole polished professional vibe,” he teased. “I figured you’d be more into heated pools or, I don’t know, champagne on yachts.”
You scoffed, splashing a bit of water in his direction. “Wow, way to stereotype.”
Mingyu laughed, dodging the splash dramatically. “Hey, I’m just saying—it’s not every day you see someone who can pull off surgeon chic also out here braving the elements.”
“Surgeon chic? Braving the elements?” you repeated, incredulous. “It’s a lake, not the Arctic.”
“Still,” he said, grinning as he swam a slow circle around you. “I’m impressed. Multitalented, aren’t you?”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “What about you? Do you always talk this much when you’re swimming?”
“Only when I’m trying to distract myself from how cold the water is,” he admitted, mock-shivering for effect. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, “Or when I’m trying to keep someone’s attention on me.”
You smirked, narrowing your eyes at him. “Subtle.”
“Subtlety is overrated,” he quipped, his grin widening. “But hey, it’s working, isn’t it?”
You splashed him again, laughing as he yelped in protest. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” he said, blinking water from his eyes with a wide smile, “here we are.”
The sound of laughter carried over from the shore as the others waded back into the lake. Johnny, forever the instigator, suggested a round of shoulder wars, and the idea was immediately met with enthusiasm.
Josh hoisted Dae onto his shoulders with ease, her laugh ringing out as she adjusted herself. Johnny waved Nic over. “C’mon, big guy. You’re carrying me.”
Nic’s eyes widened slightly, but he shrugged, wading over and lifting Johnny onto his shoulders without much effort. “Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” Johnny replied, his arms raised in triumph.
Mingyu turned to you with a playful smirk, extending a hand. “Looks like it’s you and me, princess. Ready?”
You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. With surprising gentleness, he guided you up, steadying you until you were perched above the water.
“Comfortable?” he asked, glancing up at you.
“Not bad,” you admitted, gripping his shoulders lightly. “Just don’t drop me.”
“Never,” he replied, his tone mockingly gallant.
The game began with Dae and Johnny immediately going after each other, their laughter and taunts echoing over the water. You and Nic locked eyes briefly as you balanced on Mingyu’s shoulders, and something unreadable flickered in his expression before Johnny distracted him with a war cry.
Mingyu’s hands were steady on your calves as he maneuvered you into position. “You’re gonna let them win?” he teased, nodding toward Dae and Josh.
“Not a chance,” you shot back, leaning forward to push against Dae.
For a few moments, it was pure chaos—splashing water, shouted challenges, and laughter ringing out. Mingyu was solid beneath you, matching Josh’s strength easily, but Dae was relentless. She managed to shove you just enough that you wobbled precariously, though Mingyu adjusted quickly, keeping you upright.
“Close one,” he said, grinning up at you.
“Focus,” you shot back, swatting at Dae again.
At some point, Johnny made his move, lunging toward you and Dae simultaneously in a fit of uncoordinated glory. You and Dae both shrieked as the impact sent water flying, and you toppled sideways with a loud splash.
When you surfaced, sputtering, Nic was already helping Johnny back to his feet, shaking his head at his antics. Mingyu appeared beside you a second later, slicking his hair back with a grin.
“Not bad, partner,” he said, his tone teasing. “You’ve got some fight in you.”
You smirked, splashing him lightly. “You were a decent support.”
Across the water, Nic’s gaze flickered your way, his expression unreadable before he turned back to Johnny. The look lingered in your mind longer than you wanted to admit, even as the group dissolved back into casual laughter and chatter.
Mingyu drifted closer, his playful grin firmly in place. “So, do I get points for being the most entertaining person here?”
You snorted, splashing a little water his way. “Is that what this is? A competition?”
“Everything’s a competition,” he teased, brushing water from his face. “And I think I’m winning. You laughed, didn’t you?”
“Oh, please,” you shot back with a smirk. “I laugh at Johnny’s dad jokes, too. Doesn’t mean you’re special.”
Mingyu clutched his chest in mock-offense, a dramatic gasp escaping him. “Wow. Here I thought we were building something. Guess I’ll have to rethink my choices.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Might be a good idea.”
“Noted,” he said, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he leaned back in the water. “But for the record, I think I’m still ahead of Johnny.”
“I’ll give you that much,” you conceded, the easy banter making it harder to stay in your own head.
But as you glanced back toward the group, the fleeting weight of Nic’s earlier look was still there, unshakable.
The afternoon unfolds lazily around you as you stretch out on a cane chair, the sun casting a warm glow over everything. The air is rich with the scent of the lake, fresh grass, and the faintest hint of wood smoke. It’s a perfect day, easy and unhurried, with nothing pressing and no rush to be anywhere.
You watch as Joshua and Nic sprawl out on the lawn, deep in conversation. Joshua’s laugh rises above the hum of the world, light and familiar, while Nic listens intently, nodding along with whatever Joshua is saying. There’s something grounding about the way they interact, a friendship that’s built on years of trust. You can almost feel the weight of it, the comfort they’ve always had with one another. Dae’s head rests in Joshua’s lap, her eyes closed as she listens to the conversation lazily, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his jeans. The scene is easy, peaceful, and yet, you can’t escape the undercurrent of tension that pulls at your chest every time your eyes flicker over to Nic.
Mingyu flops down into the chair next to you, pulling your attention away from the group. He stretches, cracking his neck, before settling into a relaxed slouch. His presence is a welcome distraction, a change of pace from the quiet storm brewing in your mind.
“You look like you’re in deep thought,” Mingyu remarks, his voice teasing but with a hint of concern. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Just… watching everyone,” you reply, settling into the chair more comfortably, one leg draped over the armrest. “Trying to catch my breath, I guess.”
Mingyu tilts his head, glancing over at the group on the lawn, then back to you. “Yeah, it’s a good vibe today,” he agrees. “Everyone looks so relaxed. I like that.” He stretches his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “Feels like a long time since I’ve had a day like this.”
You raise an eyebrow, half-smiling at him. “You, taking a break? What do you even do when you’re not working?”
He lets out a dramatic sigh, sinking deeper into his chair. “You know, the usual. Travel, work, annoy people.” He glances over at you. “Like I’m doing right now.”
“Mm, you’re not the worst,” you tease, your smile growing as you let your gaze shift back to the others. Nic is still talking with Joshua, his voice carrying across the lawn, but there’s a softness in his posture now, like he’s more at ease.
Mingyu follows your gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment. “You seem very fond of Nic,” His voice is casual, but you catch the hint of curiosity behind it.
You freeze for a split second, caught off guard by his statement. You hadn’t expected him to notice, or at least not comment on it. But Mingyu is like that—sharp in ways you don’t always expect.
“Yeah,” you say carefully, letting out a slow breath. “We used to be really close in college, but time and life just got in the way. It’s strange seeing him after so long.” You leave it at that, not ready to get into the mess of it all. Not now, anyway.
Mingyu’s eyes soften, though he doesn’t press further. “It’s good to see you looking peaceful,” he says with a gentle smile. “Whatever happened, it’s obvious you’re doing okay now. I respect that.”
You nod, grateful for his understanding, and the conversation shifts away from the past as Mingyu begins to talk about his latest photography project. He shows you a few pictures on his phone, explaining the stories behind them—places he’s traveled, moments he’s captured. He talks about it with such passion that it’s easy to get lost in his words, the way his face lights up as he describes the scenes.
In some ways, it feels like a distraction you didn’t know you needed. But as Mingyu talks, your mind drifts back to Nic—how he looks at you, how he’s always been there, in his own way, even when you both tried to distance yourselves from each other.
“Have you been to Seoul?” Mingyu suddenly asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You blink, realizing you’ve missed part of what he’s said. “Sorry, what?”
Mingyu laughs. “I asked if you’ve been to Seoul. I know you’ve traveled a lot. You strike me as someone who would enjoy the culture there.”
“I have, actually,” you reply, smiling softly at the thought. “Joshua roped me into a trip with him and Dae not long before I did my post-grad.”
Mingyu grins. “I’ve got a few spots I need to take you to next time. If you’re up for it, that is.”
You raise an eyebrow, giving him a playful look. “Are you offering a tour guide service, Mingyu?”
“Absolutely,” he says with mock seriousness, “I’m a professional at it. No one’s better.”
You laugh, the sound light and unburdened for a moment. It feels nice to let go of the tension, even if it’s just for a little while. But as the conversation continues, you can’t ignore the fact that your mind keeps returning to Nic—his presence, his silence, his eyes on you. The knot in your stomach tightens again.
Eventually, Theo and India join the group, and the energy picks up again as everyone starts chatting and laughing. You let yourself relax into the moment, but something still lingers in your chest. You’re starting to feel the weight of the past more and more. And you can’t help but wonder when you’ll be ready to put it down.
After lunch, the sun hangs lazily in the sky, the afternoon heat beginning to soften as the shadows stretch longer across the villa grounds. You find yourself walking slowly, your feet brushing the warm stones as you make your way back down to the water’s edge. The sound of the waves lapping gently against the rocks is soothing, and you sit at the base of the stone steps, letting the cool breeze from the lake wash over you. The world around you feels peaceful, distant, like a moment you could easily lose yourself in if you allowed it.
But you don’t.
Your thoughts keep circling back to Nic—his presence, his silence, the way he’s been watching you from the corners of your vision, like he’s waiting for something. You don’t know what that something is, but you’re starting to feel the weight of it, the heavy undercurrent of a past that won’t let you go.
It’s not long before you hear the soft crunch of footsteps on gravel, and you don’t need to turn to know who it is. Nic’s voice reaches you before he does, low and tentative.
“Mind if I join you?”
You glance over your shoulder, and for a moment, your heart stutters. There’s something in his eyes, a softness that’s hard to place, but you don’t bristle. You nod, shifting slightly to give him space, and he lowers himself onto the step beside you, leaving a small distance between you. The silence settles over the two of you like an old, familiar friend, though it’s different now. More fragile.
Nic watches the lake for a moment before speaking again, his voice quiet. “You and Mingyu seem to be getting along pretty well.” He doesn’t look at you as he says it, his gaze fixed on the water in front of him.
You chuckle, the sound coming out a little bitterer than you intended. “I don’t really know the guy. He’s just a sweet talker.” You glance at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Does it bother you?”
Nic exhales, shifting on the stone. “A little. Yeah.” He pauses, then glances at you, his expression softening. “It reminds me of how we used to be, you know? All the teasing, all the jokes… the way we’d just be there for each other.”
Something flickers in your chest, but you can’t quite place it. You tilt your head, studying him for a moment. “It’s funny, though,” you say, the words tasting dry on your tongue. “That it bothers you now. After all this time.” You turn your gaze back to the water, watching the ripples dance in the fading light. “It’s a little late, don’t you think?”
Nic doesn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, the only sound is the gentle lapping of the water against the stones. You feel the weight of the conversation hovering, suspended in the air, but there’s no rush to fill it. Not yet.
Finally, he speaks, his voice softer now, almost tentative. “I didn’t realize what I had until I lost it.”
You don’t look at him, but the words settle into you, a reminder of all the things left unsaid. A reminder that maybe, just maybe, he regrets the way things ended between the two of you. You wonder if that’s enough.
It’s not. Not yet.
Instead, you just nod, letting the moment linger, your heart a mix of confusion and something else you can’t quite name.
After a long pause, you let out a breath. “It’s strange, you know. I don’t even know how to talk to you anymore. It’s like we’re strangers, but… not.” You shake your head, frustrated with your own inability to make sense of things.
Nic turns to face you now, his voice low but steady. “I know.”
There’s a beat of silence between you, and for a moment, you almost feel the weight of your past self and who you are now collide. It’s uncomfortable, raw, and you don’t know how to move past it. But you also know that this isn’t something you can avoid forever.
“Maybe it’s just the way things are,” you say finally, shrugging. “Maybe we’re just… supposed to be like this. With everything that’s happened.”
Nic’s eyes soften at your words, and he leans back against the step, his arms folded across his chest. “Maybe.”
You sit in the quiet with him, both of you staring at the water as the evening light begins to dim. Neither of you speaks again, but the air between you feels different now—heavier, maybe. But also lighter in a way, as though the words have started to open something that’s been shut for too long.
The silence stretches between you, the water lapping at the stones below. It’s almost like you’re both holding your breath, waiting for the next words to be said.
Finally, you break the quiet, your voice softer now, tinged with something that feels like release. “I don’t want to keep being angry at you, you know? It’s exhausting, and it’s never actually gotten me anywhere.” You shrug, though it’s more of a surrender than an answer. “I guess I just wanted answers. I still do.”
Nic is still for a moment, processing your words, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours. There’s something heavy in his eyes, an apology that seems to be hanging on the edge of his tongue.
When he speaks, it’s almost as though he’s talking to himself more than you. “I’m sorry that I left you to carry that alone. It wasn’t fair. I know that now.” His voice drops a little, quieter, like the weight of the years has finally hit him.
You feel a shift inside, the heaviness of his admission pressing against the tight knot in your chest. It’s not everything, but it’s enough. Enough to make you exhale deeply, to loosen the grip you’ve held on the anger, even if just for a moment.
The soft sound of the water fills the silence again. You turn your gaze toward the lake, letting the words settle. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is… but I don’t want to keep carrying all of this.” You glance at him, your expression guarded but tired. “Maybe… maybe I just need time.”
Nic doesn’t press, doesn’t offer anything more. He just nods slowly, as if he understands that this is only a small step. It’s not forgiveness, not yet, but it’s something. You can feel the weight of the years beginning to lift, if only just a little.
DAY FOUR
The morning unfolds in a haze of sunlight and warmth, the air alive with the scent of coffee and maple syrup. You’re tucked into one of the rattan chairs with Dae and Yeri, your legs curled up beneath you as you cradle a mug of coffee. The villa feels slower today, the kind of quiet that makes you forget the world beyond its stone walls.
The boys are scattered across the terrace—Joshua stretched out on a lounger with a book, Theo and Nic lazing in chairs nearby. Nic’s head is tilted back, his face toward the sun, his posture uncharacteristically relaxed.
Dae glances at you over the rim of her mug, her expression curious. “So… things between you and Nic seem a little less… icy today.”
Your heart skips at the observation, though you try not to show it. “It’s nothing,” you murmur, shrugging as casually as you can manage. “We just… talked a little last night.”
Yeri leans forward, her interest piqued. “Talked? Like, really talked?”
“Not really,” you say quickly, taking a sip of your coffee. “Just enough to make it less weird, I guess.”
Dae hums, clearly unsatisfied. “And?”
You glance toward Nic without meaning to. He’s still lounging, his face unreadable, but the memory of last night lingers—his voice, the softness in his eyes, the way he’d apologized without trying to make excuses. It had felt… different.
“And it’s fine,” you say finally, your tone clipped. “We’re fine.”
Yeri smirks. “Sure you are.”
Before you can protest, Mingyu strides onto the terrace, a triumphant grin plastered across his face. He’s balancing a platter piled high with golden pancakes in one hand and a bowl of syrup in the other. “Breakfast is served,” he declares proudly, setting the food down on the table in the center of the group.
“About time,” Theo groans, already reaching for a plate.
“Hey, perfection takes time,” Mingyu shoots back, snagging a pancake for himself before flopping into a chair.
You grab one as well, drizzling it lightly with syrup. The first bite is warm, fluffy, and just sweet enough to feel indulgent. “Okay, I’ll admit it,” you say, glancing at Mingyu. “These are good.”
He beams. “I accept your praise.”
Even Nic chimes in, his voice filled with rare levity. “I hate to admit it, but these might be the best pancakes I’ve ever had.”
Mingyu looks genuinely pleased, throwing an exaggerated bow in Nic’s direction. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as the highest compliment.”
Nic doesn’t respond, too focused on his plate, but the easy smile on his face is impossible to miss.
Dae nudges you gently with her elbow, her voice low. “Look at him. It’s like pancakes cured his bad mood.”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Maybe I should’ve just offered him pancakes five years ago.”
Dae snorts into her coffee, and Yeri joins in, her laugh a bright, unrestrained sound that makes you smile despite yourself.
The rest of the morning is filled with the kind of light, easy chatter that feels like a reprieve. Mingyu laps up the compliments, Joshua ribs him about his “culinary aspirations,” and even Nic seems lighter, his usual edges softened by the warmth of the day. And though you tell yourself you’re not watching him, you catch yourself glancing his way more often than you’d like, your heart tugging in a way you’re not quite ready to admit.
Before long, Dae ushered everyone toward the cars, her excitement contagious. “Alright, folks, next stop: a winery I found just outside of town. Trust me, it’s adorable, and the wine’s supposed to be incredible.”
Mingyu fell into step beside you as you climbed into one of the cars his tone teasing. “You’re not one of those people who pretends to know what ‘hints of oak’ means, are you?”
You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “Please, I barely know the difference between red and white.”
He smirked, leaning in just slightly. “Good. That means I get to teach you a thing or two.”
“Lucky me,” you quipped, trying not to notice the way Nic, sitting just behind you, shifted slightly in his seat, his gaze flicking between the two of you.
When you arrived at the winery, the view stole your breath. Rolling hills stretched out in every direction, the vines bathed in golden sunlight. The group gathered near the tasting room, Dae already chatting animatedly with one of the hosts.
As the first round of glasses was handed out, Mingyu sidled up to you again, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To learning the fine art of wine tasting. Stick with me, and you’ll be a pro in no time.”
“Is that right?” you asked, amused.
“Absolutely,” he said, his grin wide. “Step one: swirl dramatically. Bonus points if you look like you’re solving the mysteries of the universe.”
You laughed, swirling your glass with exaggerated flair. “Like this?”
“Perfect,” he said, tipping his glass toward you.
Nic, who had been standing nearby, cleared his throat lightly, stepping closer to join the conversation. “Or,” he interjected, his tone even, “you could just enjoy it without the theatrics. Not everything needs to be a performance.”
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “What’s the fun in that?”
The three of you shared a laugh, the moment settling into something easy but charged. You caught Nic’s gaze briefly, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you before Mingyu nudged your arm gently, pulling your attention back to him.
The rest of the tasting continued in a similar rhythm—Mingyu’s playful banter, Nic hovering close enough to remind you of his presence, and you, caught somewhere in between, savoring the warmth of the day and the strange comfort of old wounds slowly beginning to heal.
As the tasting wound down, Dae—always a step ahead—waved everyone toward a narrow set of stairs tucked behind the winery. “Come on,” she called over her shoulder, her excitement infectious. “The host said there’s a rooftop up here. Best view of the sunset in the region.”
The group followed, glasses in hand, and you emerged onto a rustic rooftop scattered with mismatched chairs and weathered tables. Above, the sky had begun to glow with shades of gold and blush, casting the surrounding hills in a warm, dreamy light.
As the sun dips lower, bathing the rooftop in a golden glow, you and Dae find yourselves alone again, tucked into the corner of the cushioned bench with the best view of the vineyard. Mingyu’s laughter echoes somewhere off to the side, his voice blending with the others as the group lingers over the last of the wine. You tilt your head back against the seat, staring at the streaks of orange and pink across the sky.
Dae nudges your leg with hers. “So… Mingyu.”
You groan, turning to give her an incredulous look. “Oh, not you too.”
She grins, unfazed. “What? I’m just saying, he’s been glued to your side all day. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
You shrug, trying to play it off. “He’s just being friendly. That’s how he is.”
Dae raises an eyebrow, her tone playful but pointed. “Friendly, sure. But come on, he’s keen, and you know it.”
You shake your head, exhaling a long breath. “He doesn’t even know me, Dae. It’s not like that.”
Her expression softens, and she leans back slightly, studying you. “Okay, fine. Then what is it?”
You pause, your gaze drifting toward the group. Mingyu is mid-conversation with Yeri and Theo, his smile as bright and easy as ever. For a moment, you feel the familiar comfort of his presence—the lightness he brings, the ease of being near him.
“He reminds me of… how things were with Nic,” you admit quietly, your voice almost lost in the rustling breeze. “Back when it was simple. Just the two of us, in our little bubble, with no expectations. The stupid jokes, the way he always felt just close enough to put me at ease. It’s like…” You hesitate, trying to find the right words. “It’s like I’m holding on to that feeling through Mingyu. Not on purpose, but—it’s there.”
Dae doesn’t reply right away. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer, more serious. “So what do you actually want?”
The question makes you stiffen, and you glance at her, brow furrowing. “I don’t know.”
“Okay,” she says patiently, shifting to face you fully. “Let me make it easier for you. If this week ends and you and Nic go back to your separate lives—if you go another five years, or maybe forever, having nothing to do with each other—would that make you happy? Would you be content with that?”
The question hits you like a punch to the stomach, and your breath catches. The thought of never seeing Nic again, of walking away from this week without even a shred of closure or connection, sends a hollow ache through your chest. You swallow hard, staring at your hands.
“No,” you whisper, the word heavier than you expected.
Dae nods, as if she already knew the answer. “Then maybe you need to start building a bridge, rather than burning it.”
Her words settle over you, their weight undeniable. You glance back toward the group, your gaze lingering on Nic. He’s leaning back in his chair, listening to something Joshua’s saying, but there’s a distant tension in his expression that you recognize all too well.
You take a shaky breath, Dae’s advice echoing in your mind. Maybe it’s time to stop running from the past and start figuring out how to face it.
Dae’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, her tone both gentle and insistent. “All you’ve wanted this entire time was some answers, right?”
You nod slowly, the knot in your chest tightening as you glance toward Nic again.
“Then maybe it’s time you go and get them,” she continues, leaning forward slightly. “You might not totally hate what you find, is all I’m saying.”
Her words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, all you can do is sit with them, your pulse thrumming in your ears. You know she’s right. You’ve spent so much time running circles in your own mind, replaying what happened, questioning every moment, every word, every feeling. The answers you’ve been searching for aren’t going to fall into your lap—they’re sitting a few feet away, leaning back in a wicker chair with a glass of wine in hand.
But the idea of crossing that invisible line, of asking Nic to meet you halfway, feels terrifying. What if you don’t like what you find? What if his reasons—his answers—aren’t enough to fill the hollow spaces he left behind?
Still, Dae’s gaze doesn’t waver, her confidence in you steady and unshakable. “You’re not going to figure it out by sitting here, you know,” she says, her voice softer now. “Go talk to him. You’re braver than you think.”
You hesitate, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Finally, you draw in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you meet her eyes.
“Maybe,” you murmur, a flicker of determination breaking through the uncertainty. “Maybe you’re right.”
Dae smiles, leaning back with a knowing glint in her eyes. “Of course I’m right. Now, go.”
You sigh, dragging your hands down your face in exasperation. “I’ll do it tomorrow. Today has been too long, and I’m tired.”
Dae arches an eyebrow at you, her arms crossing loosely over her chest. “Okay,” she says slowly, the word drawn out like she’s testing it on her tongue. “Do it tomorrow. But you must actually do it. Don’t just say it and then decide you’re better off avoiding it entirely.”
Her tone is firmer now, but it’s not sharp. It’s grounded in a kind of steady care that only Dae can manage. She’s not pushing you for the sake of pushing; she’s doing it because she knows you need it. Because she knows you.
You let out a low groan, tilting your head back to stare at the fading blue of the sky. “Why do you have to be so relentless?”
“Because I know you,” Dae replies, deadpan, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “You’ll talk yourself in circles until the week’s over, and then you’ll leave here thinking it’s easier to let it all stay broken. But I also know that’s not what you want.”
She’s right—of course, she’s right—but the idea of acknowledging that aloud makes your stomach twist. “I’m not running for the hills,” you mutter, your tone defensive but lacking bite.
“Not yet,” Dae says with a faint smirk. Then she softens again, her expression gentling. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but you owe it to yourself to at least try. And if you don’t…” She shrugs. “Well, I’ll just keep bugging you about it. Every. Single. Day.”
You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me for it,” she quips, a playful grin tugging at her lips before she leans back in her chair.
The thing is, she’s not wrong. You do need someone to keep you grounded, to hold you accountable when your instincts tell you to retreat. And deep down, you know she’s the exact person to do it.
“Alright,” you say finally, your voice quieter now. “Tomorrow. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
Dae’s grin widens, and she gives you an exaggerated thumbs-up. “That’s my girl. Now, drink your wine and relax. You’ve got one more evening to psych yourself up.”
After Dae’s talk, you’d thought maybe you could relax—enjoy the final stretch of the day, give yourself some peace before tomorrow. But instead, you’re stuck in the quicksand of your own thoughts, sinking deeper with every passing minute.
In the shower, you’d mapped it all out: what you’d say, what Nic might say in return. You planned for every possibility, every version of him that could show up. The defensive Nic. The remorseful Nic. The version of him who might even still be indifferent. What would you say to that Nic? You played the scenes in your head on repeat, fine-tuning your retorts, overanalyzing his potential expressions.
By the time you crawl into bed, your chest is tight, your limbs restless. You turn over once, twice, then a dozen times more, trying to find a position that feels less suffocating. The air in the room feels still, like it’s waiting for something, and you hate it.
What if he doesn’t give you the answers you want? Worse, what if he does? What if the things you’ve been holding onto for so long crumble under the weight of an explanation?
The clock on your phone ticks past midnight, and your mind is still racing. You picture Nic as he was this afternoon, stretched out on the grass, laughing at one of Joshua’s jokes. You picture him at the lake, sitting beside you, his voice low and careful as he apologized. You picture him five years ago, standing in the doorway of your shared dorm room for the last time, his silhouette etched into your memory like a scar.
What could he possibly say tomorrow to make any of it make sense?
You flip your pillow over, searching for the cool side, as if that will somehow quiet your thoughts. It doesn’t.
Instead, you start running through scenarios again, like rewinding a tape. Every question you might ask him, every possible answer he could give. How would you react if he said he was scared? If he said he didn’t know what he wanted back then? If he said he still doesn’t know? What would you say if he turned it all back on you?
You roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling, exhaustion creeping into the edges of your body but refusing to take hold. You feel like you’re arguing with a ghost in your own head, spiraling until you can’t make sense of anything anymore.
Finally, when the weight of your thoughts becomes too much to bear, your body wins over your mind. The edges of your consciousness blur, your breathing slows, and sleep pulls you under, not gently, but out of sheer necessity.
DAY FIVE
The day begins before you’re ready for it.
Your eyes flutter open, and the weight hits you all at once—the anxiety pooling in your stomach like cold lead. It’s the same feeling you get when you’re preparing to stand on a stage, the audience waiting for you to stumble. The same feeling you get when a patient walks in with a case you know will test every ounce of your skill. Except this time, it’s worse. This time, it’s Nic.
You lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling as the early morning light filters through the curtains, feeling every ounce of your unease wrap around your chest like a vice. It takes you right back to college, to that night when everything fell apart. You can almost feel the ghost of his lips brushing your forehead, hear the quiet resignation in his voice as he said goodbye. The memory alone is enough to make you feel hollow.
When you finally get up, you’re quieter than usual. The group gathers for breakfast—coffee brewing, light chatter filling the space—but you barely pick at your toast. You sit on the edge of conversation, offering the occasional hum or nod but contributing little else.
Joshua notices first. He always does.
“You okay?” he asks, voice low enough that only you can hear.
You glance at him, startled out of your daze. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you murmur, but even you can hear how unconvincing you sound.
He doesn’t press, but his worry lingers in the way his gaze flickers back to you every few minutes.
By midday, it’s obvious you’re not yourself. At lunch, Joshua tries to pull you into a conversation about an old story from college—something about a prank Dae once pulled on him—but you zone out halfway through, staring into the middle distance. When he calls your name, you blink at him, startled, as if you’ve just surfaced from underwater.
“I’m fine,” you insist again when Joshua frowns at you.
But you’re not fine. You feel like your insides are twisted in knots, your stomach churning with a mix of dread and anticipation. You’re acutely aware of Nic’s presence—how he occasionally glances your way with a furrowed brow, as if he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong but doesn’t know how to ask.
At one point, you start to think you might actually be sick. Your palms are clammy, and your chest feels tight. It’s Dae who pulls you aside after lunch, sensing the storm brewing just beneath the surface.
“I found a steakhouse,” she says, her tone light but her gaze sharp. “Josh and I were thinking of taking a few of us there tonight. Theo and India have plans with some friends, so it’ll just be a small group. What do you think?”
You nod automatically, grateful for the distraction.
Dae eyes you for a moment longer, then offers a small smile. “It’ll be fun. You need a good meal—and maybe some wine.”
She doesn’t say it outright, but you know what she’s doing. She’s pulling you out of your own head, giving you something else to focus on. And for the first time all day, the tension in your chest loosens—just a little.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a haze. You busy yourself with menial tasks, anything to keep your hands occupied and your thoughts at bay. But the anxiety never fully leaves, sitting heavy in your stomach like a storm cloud on the horizon.
You’re slouched on the love seat, a book in your lap that you’re not really reading. The pages might as well be blank for all the attention you’re paying them. Your fingers trail idly over the edges, lost in your thoughts, the tension in your body building with each minute that passes. Your stomach churns with the same nervous energy you’ve been battling all day, the anxiety too thick to shake off.
You don’t hear him at first.
It’s not until the soft creak of the door pulls you from your thoughts that you look up and find Joshua standing in the doorway, his arms crossed loosely as he leans against the frame. His brow is furrowed, eyes gentle but with a hint of concern.
“You’ve been on edge all day,” he observes, voice quiet, like he’s trying not to startle you.
You don’t respond immediately, not sure what to say. You can feel the weight of the conversation you know is coming, the one you’ve been dreading, hanging over you.
Joshua steps closer, his voice softening as he drops down to sit on the arm of the love seat, next to you. “Dae mentioned you were planning to talk to Nic… seriously talk to him. How’s that going?”
A sigh slips from your lips, the sound thick with frustration and uncertainty. You’ve barely been able to think about anything else, and now that the time is actually here, your mind feels like it’s running in circles. You’ve prepared a thousand things to say, and yet none of them seem right anymore.
“I don’t even know where to start,” you admit quietly, your fingers tapping against the book absently.
Joshua studies you for a moment, the corner of his mouth turning up in a rueful smile. “I guess I can’t pretend to be Nic,” he says, his voice teasing but warm, as if trying to bring some lightness into the air. “But maybe I can help you figure out what to say.”
You let out a small, dry laugh, shaking your head. “You’re too much of a softie for this to work.”
“I am,” he agrees easily, not offended in the slightest. “But I know both of you. And I care about both of you. I don’t like seeing you two stuck.” He pauses for a moment, the weight of his words settling between you. “I just want you to be okay, y’know?”
You look down at your hands, the weight of his sincerity making something heavy shift in your chest. “I know,” you murmur. “I just… I’m not sure I know how to fix any of it. It’s so complicated, Josh.”
He nods, his expression softening. “Yeah, I know it is. But maybe the first step is just being honest. With him. With yourself. There’s no easy way to do this, but you’ve got to start somewhere.”
He pauses again, considering you for a long moment before speaking again. “What is it you need from him? What’s the one thing you’ve been waiting to hear from him all these years?”
You blink, caught off guard by the simplicity of the question. It’s so straightforward, yet it feels like something you’ve been afraid to admit for a long time.
“I just want to know why he left,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to know why he couldn’t be honest with me. Why he just… shut me out.”
Joshua’s gaze is steady, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “Okay. So that’s where you start. You need to say that. Don’t sugarcoat it, don’t try to make it easier for him. Just tell him how it felt. And let him answer.”
You nod slowly, the words hanging in the air between you. For the first time that day, you feel a flicker of clarity, a small shift in your perspective. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be perfect, but maybe it’s enough to begin.
Joshua gives you a small, reassuring smile. “You’ll figure it out. I know you will.”
You manage a tight smile back, the pressure in your chest lightening just a little. “Thanks, Josh. For being here.”
He shrugs, his grin widening. “Always, you know that.” Then he stands up, patting you on the shoulder. “I’ll be around if you need me. But you’ve got this.”
You watch him walk away, the weight of his words lingering in the air. You might not have all the answers yet, but you feel a little more ready to face what comes next.
The steakhouse is tucked into a cobblestone corner of the small Italian town, the kind of place that practically begs you to stay awhile. Its warm glow spills out into the narrow streets, blending with the soft hum of a nearby fountain. The scent of garlic and rosemary wafts from the open kitchen, mingling with the quiet hum of conversation and the clink of wine glasses. It’s intimate in the way that wraps around you like a soft blanket, and for a brief moment, it tempers the anxious edge that’s been eating away at you all day.
Joshua and Nic are seated at one end of the long table, across from each other. Joshua is in his element, throwing lighthearted jabs and pulling Nic into a story about some trip they took years ago. You notice that Nic seems… lighter. His laugh comes easier, and there’s a genuine warmth in his eyes that’s been missing for the last few days.
You, however, found yourself quieter than usual. The knot of nerves in your stomach hadn’t left, but the company and setting muted it into a low hum instead of the roaring wave it had been earlier.
Mingyu, ever attuned, seemed to notice your subdued energy. His usual flirtations softened into gentle humor, his tone warm and light when he spoke to you. “You didn’t order the steak well done, did you?” he teased with a faux scandalized expression, earning a small smile from you.
“Don’t worry,” you replied softly, poking at your potatoes. “I know better than to offend the chef’s sensibilities.”
Dae glanced your way a few times throughout dinner, her sharp eyes catching the moments you zoned out or stared a little too long at the flame of the candle in front of you. She didn’t say anything, but the look she gave you was pointed, as if to say: You know what you need to do.
The walk back to the villa was quieter than usual. You stuck close to Dae and Yeri, the three of you a little slower than the rest of the group, who were caught up in banter a few paces ahead.
Dae fell in step beside you, her voice low but direct. “So… are you going to talk to him, or what?”
The question hung in the crisp night air, sharp and slightly challenging.
“I’ll get to it,” you muttered, trying to deflect.
Dae stopped walking, her hand lightly gripping your arm to pause you too. “No, you won’t just ‘get to it.’ You’re going to do it. Tonight. Stop putting it off.”
You swallowed hard, her words piercing through your hesitations like a blade. She wasn’t wrong, and the accountability in her tone forced you to confront the truth: you had been stalling.
By the time you reached the villa, the group began to splinter off, some heading to their rooms, others lingering to chat in the living room. Your heart hammered as you lingered near the staircase, watching Nic head toward the back terrace with a glass of wine in hand.
You took a deep breath, steadied yourself, and followed him.
“Nic?” you called softly, your voice carrying into the quiet.
He turned, surprised to see you there. “Hey,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly as he set his glass down. “What’s up?”
You crossed your arms, the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Can we talk?”
Nic’s expression softened, his head tilting slightly as he took you in. “Of course,” he said gently, motioning to the seating area nearby. “Let’s sit.”
The terrace was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees and the distant chirp of crickets. The villa lights cast a warm glow over the stone pathways, but you barely noticed any of it as you perched on the edge of the rattan lounger, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Nic sat beside you, his posture more relaxed than yours, though his fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair—an old tell of his own nerves.
You glanced at him briefly before your eyes darted back to your hands, picking at the skin around your nails. The anxious habit was one you’d never quite outgrown, and now, with your pulse hammering in your ears, it was back in full force.
Nic watched you for a moment, his voice breaking the silence. “You look like you’ve been carrying something heavy all day,” he said, softly enough that it didn’t feel like pressure, but firmly enough that you knew he wasn’t going to let you brush it off. “Take your time, though. I’m here.”
You nodded, forcing yourself to exhale slowly. The words were lodged somewhere between your chest and your throat, an awkward lump of anxiety and frustration. You knew what you wanted—closure, answers—but the act of asking for it felt monumental.
“You told me the other night that I could talk to you,” you started, your voice quieter than you’d intended. You cleared your throat and straightened slightly, forcing yourself to look at him. “That if there was something I wanted to say, I could. And… I need to.”
Nic didn’t respond immediately, but he nodded, his dark eyes steady on yours. The openness in his expression—no walls, no defensive edge—made you feel both reassured and exposed.
“I’ve been sitting on these questions for five years, Nic,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “Five years of trying to figure out what the hell happened between us. And I—I need to know. I can’t leave here without at least trying to make sense of it.”
You paused, searching his face for reluctance or discomfort, but there was none. His expression remained steady, his head dipping in a subtle nod of encouragement.
“Okay,” he said simply. “Ask. I’ll answer as best as I can.”
You swallowed hard, gripping your hands together to keep them still. The anxious niggle in your stomach was back in full force, sharp and unrelenting.
“Why did you leave?” you asked, the words breaking the silence like a snapped string. “Not just after graduation, but… us. Why did you leave us?”
Nic’s brow furrowed slightly, his lips parting as if to respond, but then he hesitated. You saw the flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe, or regret—before he rubbed the back of his neck and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
“It wasn’t because I didn’t care,” he started, his voice low, steady. “I need you to know that first. I cared so much it scared the hell out of me.”
You swallowed, trying to control the lump that had formed in your throat. “What were you so scared of, Nic?” The words came out almost too quietly, but you couldn’t stop them. “I cared too. It wasn’t just about losing the guy I was sleeping with—I lost my best friend, my confidant. And you—” You stopped yourself, trying to steady your breathing. “You never even tried to reach out. Why? Why didn’t you even try?”
You saw the flicker of regret pass over his face, and your heart sank. You had imagined so many answers, but none of them were quite like this. Still, you pushed on, the hurt and confusion boiling over. “I thought you wouldn’t want to hear from me. I thought I’d just be a nuisance to you.”
Nic’s jaw clenched as he exhaled, eyes dropping briefly to the ground. Then, he looked up, meeting your gaze again with a rawness you hadn’t seen before. “I loved you,” he said, voice cracking slightly. “I love you. And that’s exactly why I shut you out. I thought if we got too involved, if I let you get too close, I’d be asking you to take a risk you didn’t deserve. I couldn’t ask you to follow me—couldn’t ask you to uproot your life for me when I wasn’t sure if I could make anything work.”
The world seemed to tilt beneath you, the air sucked out of your lungs as you processed what he’d just said. The weight of it settled in your stomach like a stone, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words felt trapped in your chest.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you exhaled slowly, as if trying to catch your breath. “You loved me,” you whispered, almost too quietly to hear yourself. “You loved me, and you just… walked away?”
Nic’s eyes searched yours, desperate for understanding. “I never wanted to hurt you, not like that. I was trying to protect you from something I wasn’t sure I could give you. And that just made everything worse.”
“So I deserved to be shunned, instead?” Your voice cracks as the words tumble out, a mix of frustration and hurt. “You don’t get to decide what I deserve, Nic.” You take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything you never said until now. “I was grown then, and I’m grown now. I would’ve fought for you. We would’ve worked it out.”
Nic’s face tightens with frustration, but there’s something softer beneath it. He runs a hand through his hair, gaze turning away for a moment. When he speaks again, it’s a near whisper. “I don’t know what else I can say, okay? I can’t take it back, and God knows if I could, I would. If we could go back, and you told me you loved me, I would’ve said I loved you too, and you’re right—we would’ve worked it out.”
The weight of his words presses down on you like a boulder, but you can’t shake the feeling that it’s too late for anything to change. You rise from your seat, feeling the impulse to put distance between you and him, as if the cold night air could somehow steady your racing heart. Each step toward the edge of the terrace feels like a small attempt to escape, to regain some control.
The wind brushes against your skin, cold and biting, but it does little to quell the heat of the tears that are falling down your cheeks, each one stinging more than the last. You wipe them away, but they keep coming, and the cool air only makes it worse, as if everything inside you is unraveling in front of him.
Nic doesn’t follow you right away. He stays where he is, giving you space, yet you feel the heaviness of his stare on your back, a silent plea for you to turn around and speak, to say something more.
The silence between you stretches on. The words you’re both avoiding hang thick in the air. It’s suffocating, unbearable.
Finally, you turn back toward him, your voice quiet but firm, almost like a challenge. “What do you want, Nic?”
The question lingers in the air, sharp and direct. You’ve asked yourself that question a thousand times, but now, finally, you’re asking him. You want to know if this is just a moment of guilt, a fleeting regret, or if there’s something more. Something real. Something that could make everything worth it.
There’s a pause—a moment where the only sound is the faint hum of the villa settling in the night.
“I don’t know,” he says softly at first, the words unsure, as though he’s still grappling with his own heart, trying to understand the depth of what he’s feeling. But then, his chest rises with a slow, deliberate breath. His eyes lock onto yours, steady and raw. “No, that’s not true.”
Your heart beats faster, and in the weight of the silence, you can feel the shift. It’s as though he’s finally letting go of whatever wall he’d been holding up all this time.
“I want you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I want another chance. I want us. And I’m not gonna back out again. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I’m in this for the long haul. I won’t run when it gets hard. Not this time.”
The words hit you like a gust of wind, each one pulling you deeper into the current of everything you’d once wanted. But a part of you—an aching, cautious part—hesitates.
You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. You want to believe him. You want to let yourself go, to believe in the possibility of something real again. But you’re not sure. Not yet.
“Why does it matter, Nic?” Your voice cracks, the frustration spilling over, mixing with the raw ache in your chest. “At the end of the week, you’ll go back to LA and I’ll go back to New York. And we’ll both be in fucking shambles again for no good reason. I’m buying into the practice next year. I’m not gonna follow you this time.”
Your words echo between you, the raw truth hanging in the air. You don’t want to admit it, but you’re scared. You’re scared of doing this again, of letting yourself fall for him only for him to leave again. You don’t know if you can risk that.
He’s silent for a moment, his face unreadable. But then, out of nowhere, he blurts it out, his voice rushing forward like it’s been desperate to escape.
“I’m moving back.”
The words are out before he can fully process them. His eyes widen with the weight of what he’s said, and the air grows heavier, the silence thickening between you. It’s like the ground beneath you both has shifted, and neither of you knows exactly what to do with the revelation.
You blink, your mind struggling to catch up. “What?” Your voice shakes, both in disbelief and the sudden hope that flickers to life, only to be quickly masked by fear.
“My firm is opening another branch in Manhattan.” Nic sits straighter, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, almost as if the weight of his words is finally catching up with him. “I put my hand up to get it up and running. I get back next month.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Nic stands, his voice steady but softer now as he searched your face. “Because I need you to know I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. Whatever that looks like for you—taking it slow, starting over… I’ll even let you beat the brakes off me in Central Park, if that’s what you need.”
His jaw tightened, and his gaze softened as he added, “It’s not about what I want anymore. It’s about what you need—what you want. I just want the chance to try, to prove I can be better for you.”
You stared at Nic, his words hitting you like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from your chest. He was standing so close, the intensity in his eyes almost too much to bear.
“I can’t,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “This is too much. I just… I can’t deal with this right now.”
Nic’s face fell, but he didn’t try to stop you as you stepped back, putting space between the two of you. “I understand,” he said quietly, his tone steady but tinged with sadness.
Without another word, you turned and walked away, the weight of his confession pressing heavily on your shoulders. You made your way back to your room, closing the door softly behind you before sinking onto the edge of the bed. The air in the room felt too still, too suffocating, as your mind raced with questions and emotions you didn’t know how to handle.
How could you trust him again? Could you even let yourself hope that things might be different this time?
The questions circled in your mind as you curled up on the bed, your thoughts too loud to allow for any real clarity.
A quiet knock at the door pulled you from your spiral, and before you could respond, the door creaked open. Dae peeked in, her warm, familiar smile softening as she took in your state. “Hey,” she said gently. “Can I come in?”
You nodded, too drained to say much. She slipped into the room and crossed over to you, settling beside you on the bed. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around you, and you leaned into her, letting the tears that had been building all day finally fall.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice muffled against her shoulder. “This was supposed to be your week, and I feel like I’m ruining it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dae said firmly, pulling back just enough to look at you. “You’re not ruining anything. You’ve been carrying a lot for a long time, and it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. That’s what friends are for.”
You wiped at your face, exhaling shakily. “Nic said he’s moving back to New York. And that he still loves me. I don’t know what to do, Dae. What if he runs again? What if I let myself hope, and he just breaks me all over again?”
Dae’s expression softened further, and she hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I need to tell you something. I overheard Nic and Joshua on the phone a few months ago. Joshua was helping him find a place in Manhattan because he knew Nic was planning to move back. He didn’t want to say anything until it was certain, but Nic’s been serious about coming back for a while now.”
You blinked at her, processing her words. “You knew?”
“I didn’t want to pressure you or plant any ideas in your head,” Dae admitted. “But for what it’s worth, I think he means it. He’s always regretted how things ended with you, and I really believe he’s willing to try this time.”
You sighed, your heart aching with the weight of your indecision. “What if it’s not enough? What if I let myself believe in him again, and it just falls apart?”
Dae squeezed your hand, her gaze steady. “Baby, I don’t have a crystal ball. I can’t answer that for you. But I do know that you’ve always been strong, and whatever you decide, you’ll be okay. If you’re willing to take the chance, though… maybe it’s worth it.”
Her words lingered as you sat together in the quiet, her arms a steady comfort as you tried to make sense of your tangled emotions.
Joshua’s entrance broke the stillness, his familiar warmth filling the room as he set a glass of water on the nightstand. He eased into the chair beside the bed, leaning back in that effortlessly casual way he always did, though his eyes flicked between you and Dae with quiet concern.
“Alright,” he began lightly, breaking the tension. “Which one of you do I have to yell at first?”
A small laugh escaped you, watery but genuine. “Definitely me. I’ve been the walking definition of a mess.”
Dae rolled her eyes, her arm still draped around your shoulders. “Don’t listen to her, Josh. She actually apologised to me for ruining our wedding week.”
Joshua’s head snapped toward you in mock offense. “You what?” he said, his voice exaggeratedly incredulous. “You think you could ruin this week? Please. It would take something a lot more catastrophic than your emotions for that to happen.”
“I mean it,” you muttered, heat creeping into your face. “I feel like I’ve been dragging all my baggage in here when this is supposed to be your time.”
“First of all,” Joshua said, holding up a finger, “you’re family, and family gets to bring their baggage—especially when it’s that guy,” he added with a sly smirk. “Second, you think Dae and I don’t love you, flaws and all? You’re practically my younger sister. Trust me, this week is better with you here, even if you’re crying in my guest room.”
The words, and the easy affection behind them, hit you square in the chest. Your lips twitched into a small smile despite yourself. “You guys are way too nice to me.”
“Absolutely not,” Dae interjected, squeezing your hand. “We love you. No qualifiers, no conditions. And you apologising? That just makes me want to shake you, but like, in a very loving way.”
Joshua grinned, clearly relieved to see a hint of your usual spark. “Yeah, you’re banned from apologising from now on, okay? Especially when it’s my fault for inviting Nic’s dumbass in the first place.”
You laughed, the sound rough but genuine. “You two make it sound so simple.”
“It’s because we’re geniuses,” Joshua deadpanned, leaning forward, a playful glint in his eyes. “But seriously, we’ve got you. No matter what. If you need a moment, take it. If you want to talk, yell, cry—whatever—you’re not going to scare us off. And Nic? He’s not going anywhere either.”
Dae gave an approving nod. “We’ve got your back, whatever you decide. But if it helps, we both think Nic is serious this time. He’s never stopped caring about you, and we’ve seen him wrestle with how badly he screwed up. He knows what he lost.”
Joshua’s voice softened, though it retained its teasing edge. “I mean, it’s hard not to love you. Even when you’re being dramatic.”
You rolled your eyes but felt your heart warm at their combined support. “I don’t know what I want yet,” you admitted, feeling the weight of the uncertainty settle over you again.
“You’ll figure it out,” Joshua said simply, standing and ruffling your hair lightly as he passed. “But just so we’re clear—you can take all the time you need, and we’re not letting you off the hook for being in our lives. Got it?”
The tenderness in his voice, mixed with his usual humor, steadied you. Dae’s arm tightened around you, and for the first time in days, the knot in your chest loosened just a little. You didn’t have all the answers, but for now, you had them. And that was enough.
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
The dental lab was a ghost town at this hour, the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the quiet buzz of the sterilizers the only signs of life. Everyone else had long since packed up, leaving you and Nic alone amidst the neatly arranged tools and rows of workstations. The air was crisp, almost too cool, but you didn’t mind; the silence felt like a cocoon.
You were bent over a set of mock impressions, the tiny details demanding all of your focus. Or at least, they should have. Instead, your attention kept slipping every time you caught Nic watching you from across the room. He’d been “studying” for the past hour, but the way his chair creaked as he shifted, the way his pen twirled lazily between his fingers—it was clear his focus was anywhere but his notes.
“You’re going to burn a hole through that thing,” he finally said, his voice low and teasing.
You glanced up, your heart giving a small, familiar flutter at the sight of him leaning back in his chair, legs stretched out, his dark eyes heavy-lidded but alert. “Maybe if someone actually studied, they’d have less time to critique my technique.”
“Maybe,” he said, standing and stretching in one fluid motion, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of his toned stomach. “Or maybe,” he continued, making his way over to you, “someone needs to be reminded to take a break.”
“Nic…” You meant it as a warning, but it came out breathless, your voice betraying you before he even reached your workstation.
He didn’t stop. He stepped behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His hands found the edge of the desk, caging you in, and his breath skimmed the shell of your ear.
“Take a break,” he murmured, his voice rough and coaxing, as if it wasn’t a suggestion but a plea.
Your fingers froze over the plaster mold in your hands. You could feel him everywhere—his presence, his warmth, his scent. He leaned in closer, just enough to let his lips graze the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and your grip faltered.
“Nic…” This time it was less of a warning and more of a surrender.
He turned your chair toward him, his hands firm but not rough, and knelt slightly, bringing his face level with yours. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might say something. Instead, he just kissed you—slow at first, but with a mounting desperation that sent a shiver down your spine.
Your hands flew to his chest, not to push him away but to anchor yourself. He kissed you like he couldn’t help himself, like he’d been holding back all evening and had finally given in. His tongue brushed against yours, and a soft sound escaped you, making him groan low in his throat.
“I can’t focus when you’re around,” he admitted against your lips, his hands sliding up to cup your face. “Scrub pants do you wonders, you know that?”
“If you get my after hours access revoked, you’ll be a dead man,” you muttered, but your words lacked any real bite, especially when he kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, as though he was savoring the moment.
Before you knew it, you were standing, the chair pushed back and forgotten. He guided you to the edge of the desk, lifting you effortlessly onto it, his hands firm on your thighs. The cool metal against your skin was a sharp contrast to the heat of his body pressing against yours.
You tilted your head back, letting him trail kisses down your neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. There was something in the way he touched you, kissed you—like he couldn’t get enough, like he was memorizing every inch of you for a moment when he might not have the chance again.
“Nic,” you whispered, your voice catching as his lips found the hollow of your throat.
He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like yearning. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint.
But you didn’t. You couldn’t.
Instead, you pulled him back to you, letting the kiss deepen, letting it drown out the world. The lab, the tools, the looming exams—they all fell away. All that mattered was him, the way his hands framed your face, the way he whispered your name like it was the only thing he could remember.
TWO WEEKS LATER
The warm light of the setting sun filtered through the cracked dorm window, casting golden streaks across the rumpled sheets. The faint chatter of students outside was barely audible over the hum of the fan, and the air was heavy with the scent of summer and sweat.
Nic lay sprawled on his back, his arm tucked beneath his head, his other hand tracing idle circles on your thigh. He was relaxed, his breathing steady, his dark hair still damp from exertion. You lay beside him, your heart still racing—not just from what you’d just done, but from the way he looked. The lazy smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth, the sharp angles of his jawline softened by the golden hour light, the slight sheen of his skin.
God, he was beautiful.
Your eyes lingered on the slope of his nose, the way his lashes fanned across his cheek as he blinked slowly. It wasn’t just his looks, though; it was everything about him. The way he teased you endlessly but always had your back. The way his laugh made your chest feel like it might explode. The way he touched you, like you were something precious.
The thought consumed you, spreading like a wildfire through your chest. You loved him. You didn’t know when it had happened—maybe it had been gradual, or maybe it had been all at once—but you loved him, wholly and irrevocably.
And the words slipped out before you could stop them.
“I love you.”
The room seemed to still. The lazy patterns Nic had been tracing froze, and his head turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours.
“What?”
You swallowed hard, the weight of the admission crashing down on you. There was no taking it back now. “I said I love you,” you repeated, softer this time.
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her stared at you, totally blank for a few beats. “You… You don’t mean that,” he said, his voice carefully neutral.
Your stomach twisted, and you pushed yourself up to meet his gaze. “Yes, I do. How could I not?”
He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. The warmth in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something guarded. “Come on,” he said lightly, a weak smile tugging at his lips. “We’re just… having fun, right? Blowing off some steam before everything changes.”
The casualness in his tone hit you like a punch to the gut. “Just having fun?” you echoed, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.
Nic rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. I mean, we’re good at this, you know? No complications, no expectations.”
The ache in your chest deepened, but you forced yourself to nod, the pain silent and all-consuming. How could he not see it? you thought. How could he not feel it?
You wanted to argue, to tell him that it already was more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words. Instead, you turned away from him, staring out the window. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.
Nic sighed softly behind you, but he didn’t say anything else. Eventually, his breathing evened out, and you knew he’d fallen asleep. But you lay awake, the ache in your chest growing with every passing moment.
When he woke hours later, the tension still hung thick in the air. Nic moved around the room quietly, gathering his things. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “See you later,” he murmured, and then he was gone.
Three days later, you walked into the library, the strap of your backpack digging into your shoulder. The quiet hum of hushed conversations and the rustle of pages greeted you as you made your way to your usual table. Joshua and Dae were already there, heads bent over their notes, but your heart sank when you saw Nic seated across from them, headphones in place.
He didn’t look up when you approached, but his posture stiffened ever so slightly.
“Hey!” Dae greeted you with her usual cheerfulness, sliding a chair out for you. “You’re late.”
“Got caught up,” you said shortly, avoiding Nic’s gaze as you sat down.
Joshua looked between the two of you, his brow furrowing. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” Nic said at the same time you mumbled, “Yeah.”
The awkwardness was palpable. Dae’s smile faltered, and Joshua raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension.
Nic, seemingly determined to avoid any meaningful interaction, adjusted his headphones and focused on his laptop. You busied yourself with your notes, the silence between you louder than any words could have been.
The interaction that broke the tension was small, almost insignificant. Nic reached for a book that was just out of his reach, and his fingers brushed yours as you instinctively handed it to him. The contact was brief, but it was enough to make your stomach flip and your heart ache all over again.
“Thanks,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes.
Dae, who had been watching the exchange with growing concern, leaned in closer to you. “Okay, seriously, what’s going on?” she whispered.
You shook your head. “Not now,” you whispered back, your voice tight.
You and Dae lingered behind in the library, packing up your things in a heavy silence. Joshua and Nic had left a few minutes earlier, their quiet conversation trailing off as the door swung shut behind them.
Dae studied you carefully, her lips pursed in thought. “Okay, what is going on?”
You blinked at her. “What do you mean?”
She rolled her eyes, closing her laptop firmly. “You know exactly what I mean. You and Nic. A week ago, you were practically joined at the hip, and now you’re treating each other like strangers. Did you guys have a fight or something?”
Your stomach churned at the mention of his name, and you ducked your head, fiddling with the corner of one of your cue cards. “It’s nothing, Dae.”
“You’re such a shit liar,” she said, exasperated. “Josh and I aren’t blind, you know. We’ve noticed the way you’ve been avoiding each other, and it’s weird. You two were always… good to each other.”
Your chest tightened at her words, the memories flooding back unbidden. The way Nic used to pick up your favorite lunch without being asked. How he’d stay late at the lab just to be your volunteer when you needed someone for a prac exam. The way his hand always found the small of your back when you walked side by side.
“You were so good together,” Dae continued, her voice softening. “I mean, Josh and I worked it out ages ago that you were… you know.”
Your head snapped up, your heart pounding. “You knew?”
“Of course, we knew,” she said, smirking a little. “You weren’t exactly subtle about it. The way you’d look at each other, how you’d always find some excuse to sit next to him or how he’d hang on your every word. It was kind of sweet, actually. So we decided to let you guys have your thing. But now…” Her smile faded, replaced by concern. “Now it feels like you can’t even stand to be in the same room as him, and I have no idea why.”
You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you. For a moment, you considered brushing it off again, but the knot in your chest tightened. You couldn’t keep this bottled up anymore.
“I told him I loved him,” you said quietly, the words barely above a whisper.
Dae froze, her eyes widening. “You what?”
You shifted uncomfortably, your voice trembling. “It just came out. We were in my dorm, and it was so… comfortable, you know? I wasn’t planning to say it, but I did. And he—” You broke off, your throat tightening.
Dae’s hands found yours, her brow furrowing. “And he what?”
“He brushed it off,” you said bitterly. “Said we were just friends blowing off steam. Like it didn’t mean anything. Like I didn’t mean anything.”
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “It’s been eating me alive all week, Dae. I thought… I thought we were more than that. It always felt like more. And now he’s just… gone. Like he doesn’t care at all.”
Dae was silent for a moment, her expression shifting between shock and anger. Finally, she let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand over her face. “That idiot.”
You blinked at her, startled by the venom in her tone.
“I mean it,” she said firmly. “Nic’s an idiot. Because there’s no way he didn’t care about you. Not with the way he looked at you. And now he’s just throwing it all away because… what? He’s scared?”
You let out a shaky laugh, wiping at your eyes. “I don’t even know. He hasn’t said a word to me since that night. He just… shut down.”
Dae’s gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could fix this for you.”
“It’s not your fault,” you said, your voice cracking. “I just… I don’t know what to do, Dae.”
She hesitated, biting her lip. “There’s something else,” she said carefully.
Your stomach sank. “What?”
“I overheard him and Josh talking a while ago,” she admitted. “Nic got offered an internship in L.A., some big shot criminal defense firm.”
The room seemed to tilt for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. “He’s leaving?”
“I think that’s why he’s been so distant,” she said quickly, her tone apologetic. “He probably didn’t know how to tell you.”
You stared at her, the weight of her words settling over you like a heavy blanket. “So he was just going to leave,” you said hollowly. “Without saying anything. Without… anything.”
Dae squeezed your hand tighter, her eyes brimming with sympathy. “I don’t know what he was thinking, but I do know this: Nic is an idiot, but he’s not heartless. He’s just… scared. Of what, I don’t know. But this doesn’t mean he didn’t care about you.”
You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter. He made his choice.”
Dae hesitated, then pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m here for you, okay? Whatever you need. And for the record, you didn’t deserve this. Not even a little.”
You buried your face in her shoulder, the tears finally spilling over. For the first time, you let yourself grieve the weight of what you’d lost—and the realization of what you might never have again.
After that day, everything changed. Nic stopped showing up to your study sessions altogether, leaving his usual spot at the table empty and the air heavier than it had ever been. Whenever Joshua invited him somewhere and Nic caught wind that you’d be there, he suddenly had plans he couldn’t cancel, excuses that sounded thinner each time they were shared.
The last time you saw him was at a graduation party a few weeks later. He’d stayed on the opposite side of the room the entire night, never once meeting your gaze. No apology. No explanation. Not even a simple well-wish. And just like that, he was gone.
Life moved on, as it always does. Joshua and Dae stayed in New York after graduation, rooting themselves in the city that had always felt like home to all of you. They kept their ties to Nic and to you, carefully navigating the distance and emotions that neither of you seemed ready to face.
They watched as you buried yourself in your studies, earning a coveted spot in a prestigious postgraduate program. They celebrated with you when you joined a prolific practice, one that would eventually make you one of the most sought-after specialists in the city.
And through it all, they watched you heal. Slowly, painfully, but bit by bit. They saw you piece yourself back together—brighter, sharper, stronger than before. But even as the years passed, the cracks remained, faint but unyielding, a quiet reminder of the part of yourself you’d once handed over to someone who hadn’t known how to hold it.
DAY SIX
The next morning, Mingyu found himself lingering by the villa’s breakfast table, his thoughts far from the casual chatter around him. He couldn’t shake the tension that had simmered between Nic and you the night before. It was clear that something more than just playful flirting had been behind your exchange, and he hadn’t fully understood the depth of the storm that had been brewing between you.
Josh, who had been quietly sipping his coffee, noticed Mingyu’s brooding expression and raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, man,” he commented, setting his cup down with a soft clink. “What’s going on?”
Mingyu stews for a few moments before sighing. “I overheard [Y/N] and Nic on the terrace last night. I didn’t realise how serious it was to them. She’s so lovely and he’s…I don’t know. He seems to care for her a lot, and I’m worried I might have made it worse.”
Joshua tilted his head, a sympathetic smile softening his expression. “There’s a lot to it, but trust me, it’s not your fault. You weren’t to know, and honestly? They probably needed a shove in the right direction.”
Mingyu frowned, leaning back in his seat as if trying to make sense of the tension he’d witnessed. “What happened between them, if you don’t mind me asking? I feel like I’m missing pieces.”
Josh hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting as if replaying memories in his mind. “Nic and I went to high school together, as you know. They met through me in college when Dae and I started seeing each other. The four of us were inseparable and Nic and her became close fast, and by senior year, they were basically best friends who happened to be sleeping together.”
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, surprised by how casually he mentioned it. Joshua caught his look and let out a dry laugh. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, it was obvious to everyone but them that it wasn’t just casual. The way they were together—it ran so much deeper than friends with benefits. I think they both knew it, but they were too scared to admit it.”
His voice softened, and a faint trace of sadness crept into his tone. “Then Nic got offered an internship in Los Angeles. It was a huge deal for him, but he didn’t know how to tell her. And before he could figure it out, she told him she loved him.”
Mingyu’s eyebrows shot up. “What did he do?”
Josh sighed, his lips pressing into a tight line. “He iced her out. Completely shut her down. I think he panicked—he was so scared of trying to rearrange his life for her that he just decided it’d be better to throw the towel in. We used to study together every Thursday, without fail and at some point he stopped showing up. If I invited him somewhere and he knew she would be there, suddenly he had other plans.”
Mingyu nodded slowly, piecing together the fragments of the story. “They seriously haven’t spoken since then?”
Josh shook his head, his expression pained. “No. And the worst part? Nic told me after he moved that he loved her too. He admitted it was the biggest mistake he’d ever made, but by then, the damage was done. She worked so hard to rebuild herself after he left. Dae made Nic promise not to reach out because she knew she needed time to heal. And she did heal, in her own way, but Nic broke her in ways that I don’t think even she could fully explain.”
Mingyu exhaled, his chest heavy with the weight of their history. “That’s… brutal.”
“It was,” Joshua agreed softly, his gaze distant. “And I don’t think she was just upset that he left. She was angry because he didn’t give her a choice. She would’ve fought for him if he’d made even the smallest effort to keep her in his life. But he didn’t. He ran.”
“And now?” Mingyu asked, his voice cautious.
Josh’s lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. “Now, they’re grown up. They’re different people with the same wounds. If they want to fix it, they’re the only ones who can.”
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, his mind whirring as he connected the dots. “You don’t think I made it worse?”
Joshua’s gaze snapped back to him, his smile warm and reassuring. “Please don’t feel responsible for their quarrels, Gyu. This isn’t on you. It’s their responsibility to fix what’s broken. You just got caught in the crossfire.”
“I still feel like I should apologise to her,” he said, his tone laced with guilt. “I didn’t mean to stir anything up.”
Josh tilted his head, considering him for a moment. “I don’t think it’ll hurt, but I promise, she won’t blame you. She’s very reasonable—when people deserve it.” His smile turned playful, teasing him just enough to ease the tension in his shoulders. “And you definitely deserve it.”
Mingyu chuckled softly, though his expression grew serious again. “She’s been through a lot, huh?”
Josh nodded. “She has. But she’s also strong, and she knows what she wants. If you do talk to her, just be honest. She’ll appreciate it.”
Later that morning, Mingyu finds you stretched out on the lawn with a book in hand, the golden light of the late morning sun casting a warm glow over the villa grounds. A slight breeze ruffles the pages of Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, and you pause to smooth them out, your gaze focused but peaceful. The serene moment is a stark contrast to the charged energy of the past few days.
Mingyu approaches cautiously, hands stuffed into his pockets as if he’s unsure of how to start. “That’s pretty heavy reading for a vacation,” he says lightly, nodding toward the book as he comes to a stop a few feet away.
You glance up at him and offer a small smile. “Sometimes you need something grounding. Keeps your mind clear when things get… complicated.”
Mingyu winces, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, about that…” He hesitates, clearly weighing his words. “Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you.”
Setting the book aside, you sit up and gesture for him to take a seat on the grass beside you. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”
He lowers himself down, resting his elbows on his knees. For a moment, he just stares out at the horizon, gathering his thoughts. “I wanted to apologise. For… well, for anything I said or did that might’ve made things more tense between you and Nic. I honestly had no idea about your history, and if I’d known…” He shakes his head. “I just feel like I might’ve put you in an uncomfortable position.”
You study him for a moment, then shake your head with a gentle smile. “Mingyu, you didn’t do anything wrong. You couldn’t have known, and honestly, it’s not your responsibility to tiptoe around our mess. That’s on Nic and me to figure out.”
His expression softens, though the guilt lingers in his eyes. “Josh told me a bit more about what happened. I just feel like I walked into the middle of something that’s been brewing for years and accidentally stirred the pot.”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe you did stir it a little, but sometimes things need to be stirred. It’s not like we were doing a great job of dealing with it on our own.” Your gaze drifts to the villa, where the weight of the past few days still lingers. “If anything, I should thank you. You’ve been nothing but kind and genuine, even when things got messy.”
Mingyu relaxes slightly, though his expression remains serious. “I mean it, though. I really respect you. I don’t know if I’d have the strength to even be here, let alone handle everything as gracefully as you have.”
You raise an eyebrow at that. “Gracefully? I’m pretty sure half the villa heard me crying last night.”
“Maybe,” he says with a sheepish grin. “But honestly? You’re handling it. You’re facing it head-on, even if it’s messy. That takes guts.”
His words catch you off guard, and you blink, letting them settle. “Thanks, Mingyu,” you say softly. “That means a lot.”
He nods, a warm sincerity in his gaze. “For what it’s worth, I think you should do whatever feels right for you. Whether that’s giving him another chance or walking away for good. Just… make sure it’s what you want, not what you think you’re supposed to do.”
You consider his words carefully, feeling a mix of gratitude and clarity. “That’s good advice,” you admit, your voice thoughtful. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
The two of you sit in companionable silence for a while, the weight of the conversation lifting slightly. Eventually, Mingyu stands, brushing grass off his pants. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to your heavy Roman philosophy. But if you ever need to vent—or just a distraction—you know where to find me.”
You smile up at him, genuinely touched by his support. “Thanks, Mingyu. Really.”
As he walks back toward the villa, you pick up your book again, but your mind lingers on his words. The clarity they bring feels like the first piece of calm amidst the chaos, and for the first time in days, you feel like you’re starting to figure out what you truly want.
After Mingyu’s apology, a sense of relief settles over you, but it doesn’t erase the questions or the lingering confusion. You spent the morning with Dae, trying to keep your mind occupied with light conversation, but your thoughts keep drifting back to everything that’s happened. The answers you’ve gained are helpful, but they don’t completely solve the storm raging inside of you. You’ve gained some closure, but there’s still so much you’re trying to process, especially now that you know Nic wants another chance. You’re unsure if you’re ready to give it, or if you even want to.
Looking for solitude, you escape to the garden, where the tranquil beauty of the estate contrasts sharply with the turmoil inside. Surrounded by the calm lake and vibrant flowers, you try to make sense of your emotions. The stillness around you feels like a reflection of what you want—peace and clarity—but it’s hard to silence the unease. You’ve been holding onto so much—anger, regret, and fear. Nic’s confession that he loves you, and his desire to try again, makes it all more complicated. Can you trust him again? Can you trust yourself?
The midday sun cast its warmth across the rippling lake, the golden light reflecting off the water like scattered diamonds. The air smelled faintly of wildflowers and pine, a comforting mix that you’d come to associate with this place. You were stretched out on a towel on the grass, letting the sun kiss your skin, trying to soak in the quiet and keep your thoughts at bay.
A soft rustle of gravel caught your attention, followed by the unmistakable weight of his presence. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know it was Nicholas. Even after all these years, you could still feel him before you saw him.
When you did glance up, he stood a few feet away, one hand playing with a ring on his other, his gaze flickering between you and the lake. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, and in his hand was a folded piece of paper.
“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence.
You sat up, shielding your eyes from the sun. “Hey.”
He shifted, his thumb brushing over the edge of the paper. “I, uh…wanted to give you this.”
Your brow furrowed as you looked at the paper. “What is it?”
“A letter,” he admitted, stepping closer but keeping a careful distance. “I wrote it after college. It’s…it’s everything I couldn’t say back then.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Why didn’t you send it?”
He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before he sighed. “Dae made me promise not to. She thought it would hurt you more than it would help.” His voice softened. “She was probably right.”
Your fingers itched to take the letter, but your chest tightened. “Why now?”
He crouched down, placing the letter on the towel beside you, his gaze steady and purposeful. “I want you to have this,” he said quietly. “I don’t expect anything from it, or from you. I just think it’s important for you to know the truth. When you’re ready, read it. I’ll be here, but… take your time.”
You stared at the letter, a wave of conflicting emotions rushing through you—curiosity, fear, and something deeper, more vulnerable that you couldn’t yet name. By the time you looked up, Nic was already walking away, his footsteps soft against the gravel path.
Before he disappeared into the distance, he turned back, his voice low as he spoke again. “I’m not running away this time,” he said, a hint of finality in his words. “Whatever happens next, I’m staying.” His eyes held yours for a long moment, before he gave a small nod and left you alone with the letter.
You sat there, the peaceful sounds of the lake and the distant wedding preparations surrounding you, but you could feel the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. The letter before you seemed to hold the answer to questions you hadn’t known how to ask, and now it was up to you to decide whether to open it, to face whatever truths it might bring.
Hey,
I don’t know where to start, so I guess I’ll just say I’m sorry.
Dae told me how bad things have been for you. I can’t stop hearing her voice, the way she said it. You don’t deserve any of this. You never did. I’ve been trying to convince myself that this is what I wanted—that running to L.A. was the right thing to do, that leaving everything behind was the only way to get where I’m going. But every day, I wake up and realize how hollow that is.
You told me you loved me. God, I already knew. I’ve known for a long time—probably longer than you did. You didn’t say anything I hadn’t already felt in the way you looked at me, laughed with me, or trusted me when no one else could. I don’t know why I let you say it first. Maybe I was waiting for the courage to admit that I felt the same way.
I didn’t handle it the way I should have. I should’ve told you how scared I was—scared of messing this up, scared of failing, scared of how much you already meant to me. Instead, I just ran. Because running was easier than staying and facing the possibility that I might not be enough for you, that this thing between us could break under the weight of my fear and ambition.
But it broke anyway, didn’t it?
Josh told me to write this down. He said it didn’t matter if it was stupid or if you’d never even read it—just that I needed to get it out of my head. I didn’t believe him at first, but he was right. I’ve been carrying this around like a weight tied to my chest, and I need you to know that leaving you wasn’t what I wanted. Not really.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to fix this. I don’t know if I deserve that chance. But if I do—if somehow you find a way to let me back into your life—I promise I’ll fight for you this time. I won’t run. I’ll prove that I’m not the same stupid, confused kid who thought a job in L.A. was more important than the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
I don’t expect forgiveness. I just needed you to know.
I miss you. More than I thought was possible.
Love, always
Nic
The letter trembled in your hands as you finished reading, your vision blurred by unshed tears. You folded it carefully, your chest tightening as you placed it back on the towel beside you.
It didn’t erase the hurt—nothing could—but it filled in the gaps. It explained the silence, the retreat, the way he’d pulled away when you needed him most. It didn’t justify it, but it made it human.
And as much as it stung to relive those memories, something in you softened. The vulnerability in his words, the raw sincerity—they weren’t things you’d ever expected from Nicholas. He wasn’t just apologizing; he was baring himself in a way he never had before.
For the first time, you believed he truly regretted what happened. And maybe, just maybe, you believed he was capable of change.
You found him in the villa’s garden, sitting on a low stone bench beneath the shade of a sprawling olive tree. His shoulders were hunched, hands clasped between his knees as he stared at the cobblestone path. The rustling leaves and distant hum of cicadas filled the silence until your footsteps broke through.
He looked up, and his eyes searched yours. There was a flicker of hope in them, but it was tentative, cautious. You could see the way he braced himself, as if ready for whatever blow might come next.
“I read it,” you said, stopping a few steps away.
He stood, stuffing his hands into his pockets, then took a hesitant step closer. “And?”
You exhaled, shaking your head softly as you perched on the edge of the bench. “It doesn’t fix everything, Nic. It doesn’t take away the pain. But… I think I get it now. Why you left. Why you didn’t say goodbye.”
Nic sat beside you, not interrupting, just listening. His eyes were focused on the ground, his posture tense but patient, as though he was waiting for you to continue.
You glanced at him briefly, your voice quieter but steady. “I’ve spent so long wondering if I’d done something wrong. If I wasn’t enough. But seeing it, reading it… it makes it more real, I guess. You’re not a villain. You’re not just someone who walked away. You had your reasons. I can see that now.”
His breath hitched, but he didn’t speak. His eyes searched yours for any sign of anger or resentment, but you felt only a quiet acceptance—your thoughts still swirling, but clearer than before.
“I won’t pretend this makes everything okay. It doesn’t erase how it felt, or how I felt. But it’s real, Nic. You’re not the guy I thought you were. It makes it… human.” You paused, looking away, unable to keep the tears in check for much longer. “But I can… understand. Finally.”
Nic’s hand twitched, like he wanted to reach for you, but he held back. His expression softened, and though he didn’t speak, there was an understanding between you now—a fragile crack in the wall that had been between you both for so long.
For a long moment, neither of you said anything. He let you breathe, let you feel it, without rushing in to explain or fix. And for the first time in a long while, it felt like you were beginning to make peace with the past.
Nic broke the silence, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. “I’d like a chance to try again. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’ve changed.”
You studied him for a moment, his expression open, unguarded. For the first time, it felt like he wasn’t just offering you words—he was offering you a piece of himself.
“And now?” you asked, your voice careful, cautious.
“I’m moving back to New York in a month,” he said simply. “I’ve already taken the job. I’ll be there full-time, and when I am, I want to prove to you that I’ve learned from my mistakes. That I can do better.”
Your lips quirked into a faint, skeptical smile. “What makes you so sure I’ll let you?”
“I’m not,” he admitted, a flicker of a smile breaking through his seriousness. “But I’m willing to try. You’ve always been worth it, even if I didn’t have the sense to see it back then.” He paused, his tone softening. “And I know if I screw up again, Joshua and Dae will drown me in the Hudson before you even get the chance.”
You laughed despite yourself, the sound breaking some of the tension. “That’s probably true.”
“I mean it,” he said, leaning slightly toward you, his voice lowering. “I’ve spent years thinking about this. About you. And I know now that nothing I say will ever be enough unless I show you. So this is me, showing you. I’m here. And I’m ready to put in the work, no matter how long it takes.”
The sincerity in his words tugged at something deep inside you, though your heart remained guarded. “It’s not just about making promises, Nic,” you said softly. “It’s about proving you can stay. That you won’t disappear when things get hard again.”
“I know,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “And I will. One day at a time. One step at a time. I’m not asking you to forgive me overnight. I just want a chance to earn it.”
You studied him for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. There was a quiet determination in his expression, a sincerity that felt unshakable. For the first time, you believed he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear—he meant every word.
“Okay,” you said finally, your voice soft but resolute. “Baby steps.”
A faint, relieved smile spread across his face, one that reached his eyes. “Baby steps,” he echoed.
It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t fix everything. But for the first time in years, you felt the tiniest flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward. Together.
You looked at him for a long moment, letting his words settle over you like the warm Italian breeze. There was no denying the sincerity in his voice, no mistaking the quiet resolve in his eyes. This was Nicholas—not the man who ran away, but the one who was willing to stay and fight for you now.
And yet, the hurt was still there, a lingering ache you couldn’t shake. But so was the memory of what it felt like to be with him—the safety, the warmth, the certainty that no one else could ever occupy the space he had carved out in your heart.
Before you could overthink it, you shifted closer on the bench.
Nic’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as you closed the distance between you. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, resting your cheek against his shoulder.
For a moment, he froze, like he couldn’t believe it was happening. But then he turned slightly and arms came around you, holding you tightly, and he let out a shaky exhale against your hair.
His heart was pounding beneath your ear, so fast and so loud you were certain he could feel it, too. It was such a familiar rhythm, one you hadn’t realized you’d missed until now.
Neither of you spoke, but there was no need to. The hug wasn’t just an embrace; it was a beginning. The first crack in the walls you’d spent years building, the first tentative step toward letting him back in.
His hand moved up to cradle the back of your head, his touch achingly gentle, and you felt his lips press softly against your hair. “Thank you,” he whispered, so quiet you barely heard it.
You didn’t respond right away, letting yourself sink into the moment—the feeling of being back in his arms, of being home in a way you hadn’t been in a long time.
Finally, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your arms still looped loosely around his midriff. “Don’t make me regret this, Nic,” you murmured, your voice low but steady.
His gaze met yours, unwavering. “I won’t,” he promised.
And for the first time in years, you thought maybe—just maybe—you could believe him.
DAY SEVEN
The garden was alive with warmth and laughter, the gentle hum of conversation mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. A few rows of chairs were set out neatly in front of an archway draped in delicate linen and wildflowers, the blooms swaying lazily in the afternoon sun. Everything about the scene felt intimate and magical, the perfect backdrop for the day’s promises.
On the lawn just off to the side, Joshua and Nic were with Nabi—Dae’s niece, her joyful giggles carrying through the air as they took turns chasing her in playful circles. Joshua lifted her high in the air with ease, spinning her around before setting her down so Nic could crouch to her level and join in her antics. There was something achingly tender about the scene—Nic’s easy smile, the way he cradled her like she was the most precious thing in the world. It made your chest tighten and your knees feel a little weak. He looked completely at ease, his sharp features softened by the pure affection shining in his eyes.
You lingered near the garden entrance, letting the moment unfold, but Nic caught sight of you almost immediately. He froze mid-movement, his smile faltering for just a second before returning, this time softer, as his eyes stayed locked on you. Joshua noticed, his gaze darting between you and Nic before a knowing grin spread across his face. Nudging Nic lightly with his elbow, he murmured something you couldn’t hear, then patted Nabi’s shoulder as if signaling her to join in.
“Take Nabi with you,” Joshua said, his voice just audible now. “As backup.”
Nic gave him a look but obliged, standing and brushing off his trousers. As he made his way toward you, Nabi clung to his hand, bouncing excitedly on her toes.
“Auntie!” Nabi squealed, breaking free from Nic’s grip and running the last few steps to throw her arms around you. You laughed, stooping slightly to meet her hug, the warmth of her energy infectious.
“Oh, beautiful girl, I missed y,” you cooed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “You’ve grown so much!”
She stepped back just enough to get a full look at you, her big eyes going wide as she gasped dramatically. “You look so pretty, like a princess!”
You chuckled, smoothing the fabric of your dress. “That’s sweet of you to say, Nabi. But I think the real princess here is you. Have you seen your flower crown? It’s gorgeous.”
Nabi, ever observant, turned her attention to Nic, tugging on his sleeve to pull him into the conversation. “Uncle Nic, don’t you think she looks like a princess?”
Nic’s blush rose immediately, a soft pink coloring his cheeks as his gaze darted between you and Nabi. He cleared his throat, his usual confidence taking a backseat to something tender and vulnerable. “I do,” he said, his voice quiet but certain. “She looks beautiful.”
Your chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes lingered on you like you were the only person in the world. Nabi seemed pleased with his response, clapping her hands before Joshua called her name from across the lawn.
“Nabi-ya!” Joshua beckoned, his voice light with laughter. He crouched down the ground, saying something in Korean that you didn’t understand.
But Nabi did, and she squealed again, running off toward Joshua without a second thought. He gave you a quick wink before turning his full attention back to entertaining Nabi, leaving you alone with Nic.
“She’s exactly how I picture Dae was as a kid,” Nic said, watching them go with a faint smile.
“Causing trouble between unwitting adults? Pretty much,” you replied, glancing up at him with a grin. “You’re really good with her. It’s sweet to see.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, the blush still faintly there. “She was easy to befriend. I just had to give her a piggyback and promise ice cream later on.”
“Yeah,” you agreed softly, the weight of the moment settling between you. “I stopped by Dae’s suite earlier. She’s excited, but you know how she gets before big moments.”
“She’ll be fine,” Nic said, his smile warming at the mention of her.
“I don’t doubt it,” you said, your voice taking on a gentle fondness. “Josh is going to be a wreck, though. He’s going to cry the second he sees her.”
Nic chuckled at that, glancing over to where Joshua was fussing with Nabi’s flower crown again. “You’re probably right. He’ll deny it, but I give it two minutes before the waterworks start.”
“Two? That’s gracious,” you teased, shaking your head. “But, honestly? I’ll probably cry too. It’s hard not to with these two.”
Nic hummed in agreement, but you noticed his tie was slightly off—crooked and loosely knotted, the way it always was when he attempted it himself. Without thinking, your hand reached out, instinct taking over as you caught the fabric in your fingers.
“You never could do this right,” you murmured, stepping closer as your fingers caught the fabric of his crooked tie.
Nic stilled but didn’t move away, his eyes dropping to watch as you carefully loosened the knot.
“All these years of being a big-shot lawyer and prosecutor,” you teased lightly, your voice soft but steady, “and you still can’t figure this out?”
His lips twitched, the corner tugging up in a faint smirk. “Guess some things never change.”
“Clearly,” you replied, tugging the tie into a perfect knot and smoothing it down against his chest. You lingered for a brief second, the faint impression of taut muscle below your fingertips prompting a tingle in your knees before you stepped back.
“There,” you said, finally looking up at him. “That’s better.”
When your eyes met his, you found him already watching you, his gaze warm and unreadable, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“I don’t know,” Nic said, his voice quieter now. “I think it looks better when you do it.”
Your cheeks warmed at his tone, but you gave him a half-smile, trying to keep the moment light. “Good thing I’m here, then.”
Nic’s gaze softened as he looked at you, something unspoken passing between you as the celebrant called for everyone to take their seats. The air between you felt lighter—less burdened by the years of distance and hurt. It wasn’t everything, but it was something, and maybe, for now, that was enough. Together, you made your way to the front row, sitting side by side as the atmosphere shifted, the ceremony moments away. The weight of being at a wedding settled over you both, not heavy or suffocating, but warm and reflective, a reminder of the beauty in love and commitment. Nic’s hand rested on his knee, his fingers brushing yours for just a second before pulling away. It was a quiet gesture, but it said everything neither of you could in that moment.
The ceremony had been intimate, full of raw emotion and quiet vows shared under the archway of wildflowers and linen. After the applause and congratulations faded, Josh and Dae pulled everyone into the garden for photos. They made a point to gather everyone close for group shots, but it wasn’t long before the focus turned to the two of you—Nic, and you.
“Come on,” Dae urged, tugging at your hand with an almost childlike excitement. “Just one with the original crew. For old times’ sake.”
Josh beamed as he pulled Nic closer, the four of you automatically falling into place the way you had so many times before. Nic’s arm settled around your waist like a second nature, his hand gripping your hip gently as the photographer guided you all, and you found yourself smiling more naturally than you had in years.
As the camera clicked, you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you, bittersweet and warm all at once. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was like no time had passed at all. These three had been your family once—Josh’s steady encouragement, Dae’s infectious laughter, and Nic’s quiet, unwavering presence. And now, standing there again, you realized they still were.
“Just one more,” Josh said, his voice light but fond as he glanced at Dae. “For the wedding album.”
Dae laughed, slipping her arm around his waist. “Fine, but I get to pick which one we print.”
As the session wound down, Josh and Dae were swept away for more couple’s photos, leaving the rest of you to wander back toward the villa. Nic fell into step beside you, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
“That felt…a little like old times, didn’t it?” he said after a moment, his voice low and thoughtful.
You glanced at him, his profile softened by the golden hour light. “It did. Almost made me forget how long it’s been.”
Nic smiled faintly, his gaze fixed ahead as he said, “Doesn’t feel that long when we’re all together like that. Like…nothing’s really changed.”
You wanted to say that some things had changed—everything had, really—but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just nodded, your footsteps falling into an easy rhythm with his.
By the time you reached the terrace, the space had been transformed for the reception. Strings of lights hung overhead, and the scent of wildflowers lingered in the air. The warmth of the garden gave way to a deeper kind of intimacy, the soft hum of conversation weaving through the evening as you and Nic sat side by side, the laughter and love surrounding you like a bubble that left just the two of you to your thoughts.
You couldn’t help but glance at him when he wasn’t looking, taking in the way the warm light caught the angles of his face, the faint lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Those years apart had added something to him—maturity, maybe, or weariness—but not enough to bury the man you’d fallen for all those years ago. It wasn’t the tailored suit or the polished smile or the gold plaque with his name on it that stayed with you now; it was the way he’d looked at Nabi earlier, the way he’d watched Josh and Dae exchange their vows with such a quiet intensity.
He caught you staring and smiled faintly, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to gauge where your thoughts had gone. For a moment, it felt like the two of you were suspended in time, the weight of everything unspoken between you making the air thicker.
The terrace fell silent as Josh rose to speak, his voice steady but rich with emotion. He spoke about Dae with the kind of reverence that only deep, abiding love could inspire, sharing stories that earned both laughter and tears from the small gathering. Dae followed with her own words, her usual confidence softened by the rawness of her affection for Josh.
The speeches struck a chord in you, each word a gentle nudge toward memories you thought you’d buried. You felt Nic shift beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned forward, his attention fixed on the couple at the head of the table. You knew he was thinking about them—about what they had—but you also knew he was thinking about you.
Then, Dae turned her attention to you, her smile mischievous as she raised her glass. “I think it’s only fair,” she said, her voice light and teasing, “that someone else says something too.” She pointed a perfectly manicured nail directly at you. “You’ve known both Josh and me longer than almost anyone here. You should say a few words.”
Your heart leapt into your throat, and you shook your head quickly. “Oh, no, I couldn’t—”
“You absolutely could,” Josh interrupted with a grin, gesturing for you to stand. “Come on, don’t leave us hanging.”
The guests clapped lightly, encouraging you, and with a deep breath, you rose to your feet. Your mind raced for something to say, the weight of everyone’s eyes on you making it harder to focus. Then your gaze landed on Josh and Dae, their fingers interlaced, their smiles soft and knowing, and you felt a calm settle over you.
“I’m, uh, not great at speeches,” you started, earning a few chuckles. “But I guess the thing about love is that it doesn’t really need perfect words, does it? Love is messy and complicated and…sometimes really painful. It’s not always easy to let people in, or to hold on when things get hard.”
Your voice softened, and you glanced briefly at Nic before continuing. “But when it’s real, when it’s worth it, it finds a way. Time, distance…even mistakes don’t make it disappear. It lingers. It’s patient, even when we aren’t.”
You swallowed hard, emotion creeping into your voice as you looked at Josh and Dae. “What you two have…it’s special. It’s not just about the big moments—it’s in the little ones, too. The way you look at each other when you think no one’s watching, the way you hold onto each other even when things aren’t perfect.”
Your lips curved into a small smile as your gaze softened. “You remind all of us what it means to love fully, without holding back. And I think that’s the most beautiful thing any of us could hope for.”
The applause that followed was warm and heartfelt, but you barely registered it. Your heart was pounding as you sat back down, your eyes meeting Nic’s for just a second too long. His expression was unreadable at first, his gaze fixed on you like he was trying to memorize every word you’d just said.
“That was…” Nic started, his voice lower than usual. He paused, shaking his head slightly as a small smile tugged at his lips. “You always have a way of saying exactly what people need to hear.”
His hand brushed against yours under the table, not quite a touch, but enough to make you feel the weight of it. It was in that moment you realized: you hadn’t just been talking about Josh and Dae. You’d been talking about him. About you.
And he knew it.
The first dance was everything you’d expect from Josh and Dae: sweet, understated, and full of a love that seemed to glow brighter than the candles flickering on the tables. The soft strains of their song floated through the terrace, weaving around the small, intimate gathering like a spell.
You and Nic stood off to the side, watching as they swayed together under the string lights. Dae’s head rested against Josh’s shoulder, her gown trailing elegantly behind her as they moved in perfect sync, lost in their little world.
“She looks so happy,” Nic murmured beside you, his voice low enough that it almost blended into the music.
You glanced at him, catching the softened lines of his expression, the way his gaze lingered on the couple with quiet admiration. “They both do,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended.
Watching them, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of reflection—a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and possibility. You thought about the version of yourself from five years ago, so tangled up in your feelings for Nic that it had felt impossible to move forward without him. And now here you were, standing beside him, watching someone else’s love story unfold.
Your mind wandered, drifting back through your memories of him—the late nights in college, the laughter, the arguments, the moments when everything felt so sure and others when it all seemed to slip away. And yet, even through the years apart, that same pull lingered. The question wasn’t whether you still loved him—you knew you did. It was whether the future could hold something more than the past.
Josh spun Dae out and brought her back into his arms, drawing a round of applause from the small crowd as their song came to an end. They beamed at each other, sharing a quick kiss before the music shifted to something more upbeat, signaling the start of the reception.
As the evening unfolded, the terrace came alive with chatter, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses. Nic had stepped away briefly to grab a drink, leaving you to mingle with the others, but it wasn’t long before Dae sidled up to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“So,” she started, dragging out the word as she nudged your arm. “Progress report, please.”
You blinked at her, feigning innocence. “Progress on what?”
Dae rolled her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms. “Don’t play dumb with me. You and Nic.”
Your face immediately warmed, and you glanced around as if someone might overhear. “Dae…”
“What?” she teased, grinning like the cat who got the cream. “It’s a legitimate question. I mean, you’ve barely taken your eyes off each other all day.”
“I—” you started to protest, but the words faltered when Nic reappeared at your side, holding out a glass of champagne for you.
“What did I miss?” he asked casually, though the slight furrow in his brow betrayed his curiosity.
“Oh, nothing much,” Dae said airily, clearly enjoying herself. “Just checking in on you two. Josh has been taking bets on when you’re getting back together, by the way.”
Nic nearly choked on his drink, his ears tinting red as he looked at Dae with wide eyes. “He what?”
“He’s your biggest shipper, you know,” she continued, completely undeterred by the embarrassment she was causing. “He’s been rooting for this since forever. Honestly, I think it’s half the reason he wanted the two of you here together.”
You covered your face with your hand, half laughing, half mortified. “Dae, stop.”
“Why? It’s true!” she said, throwing up her hands innocently. “He even said at one point that if he had to, he’d lock you two in a room until you sorted it out. But hey, it looks like I don’t have to intervene, so… progress!”
Nic shook his head, his blush spreading to his neck as he avoided meeting your gaze. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
Dae gave you both a smug little grin, clearly pleased with herself. “Just saying what everyone’s thinking. Anyway, I’ll leave you two alone. But don’t make me wait for updates—I’m invested.”
With that, she spun on her heel and disappeared back into the crowd, leaving you and Nic standing there, equally flustered.
You finally dared to glance at him, catching the faint sheepish smile he was trying to hide. “Well, that was subtle,” you said dryly, though you couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face.
Nic let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… subtle has never really been her thing.”
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the music and laughter from the reception wrapping around you like a cocoon. And despite the teasing, despite the embarrassment, you felt a quiet warmth settle between you—something unspoken, but understood all the same.
You and Nic were tucked off to the side, your chairs angled just enough to give you a view of the lake as the night settled in. His hand rested lightly on the back of your chair, his body angled toward yours, the conversation between you easy and natural for the first time in years.
The moment was interrupted by the smooth arrival of Mingyu, his usual grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Well, well,” he said, gesturing between the two of you, “I’m glad to see the two of you have worked things out. Not gonna lie, I was rooting for you.”
Nic stiffened slightly beside you, though his expression remained neutral. “Yeah, we’ve been…talking,” he replied carefully, his hand slipping from the back of your chair to his lap.
Mingyu’s grin softened, turning almost sheepish. “Listen, man,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, you know, step on your toes this week. I didn’t know the history, and once I did, well…” He looked between the two of you. “I just want to say I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
Nic glanced at you, then back at Mingyu, clearly caught off guard. He shifted in his chair, a flush creeping up his neck. “You didn’t owe me anything,” he said after a moment, his voice measured. “But…I appreciate it. And, uh, sorry if I was…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head.
“Possessive?” Mingyu offered with a teasing glint in his eye.
Nic sighed, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “Yeah. That.”
Mingyu laughed, holding out his hand. “No hard feelings?”
Nic hesitated for only a moment before taking it, shaking firmly. “No hard feelings,” he echoed, though his embarrassment lingered in the faint pink of his cheeks.
As Mingyu walked away, you glanced at Nic, your eyebrow raised. “Possessive, huh?”
He groaned, leaning back in his chair with a wry smile. “Don’t start.”
You laughed softly, leaning closer. “It’s okay,” you teased. “I think it’s kind of sweet.”
Nic gave you a look, somewhere between exasperation and affection, before shaking his head. “You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
The reception had dwindled to a quiet hum, the terrace now lit only by the soft glow of fairy lights and the lingering warmth of a celebration well-lived. Guests were beginning to disperse, gathering their things, exchanging hugs and goodbyes. Dae and Josh stood at the entrance of the villa, looking every bit the newlyweds—radiant, a little tipsy, and blissfully in love.
“Alright, you two,” Dae said, pulling you and Nic in for a hug. “Promise me you’ll send updates. I need to know every detail of your progress.”
Josh chuckled, resting an arm around her waist. “She’s not kidding, by the way. You’re going to regret letting her have your number.”
Nic smirked, shaking Josh’s hand. “I’ll take my chances.”
Dae grinned but her tone softened as she squeezed your hand. “We’re so proud of you both. Really. It’s been amazing having you here this week. Seeing you together…” She trailed off, her eyes glassy with emotion.
Josh picked up where she left off. “It meant a lot. And not just for us. You two being here—it feels like something’s come full circle.”
“Alright, enough sentimentality,” Dae said, wiping at her cheek with a laugh. “We’ve got a plane to catch.”
They were heading to Santorini for their honeymoon—classy, romantic, and quintessentially them. The group gathered outside the villa to wave them off, cheering as their car disappeared down the drive.
As the crowd thinned and everyone started for their hotels or Airbnbs, Nic lingered by your side. He looked at you with a familiar warmth that made your chest tighten, a quiet confidence in the way he stood close, just shy of brushing your arm.
“So,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What do you say we find somewhere to grab dinner? Nothing fancy. We’ll just see where the night takes us.”
You hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
You ended up at a small, tucked-away trattoria on one of Bellagio’s cobblestone streets. The kind of place where the servers knew every regular by name and the scent of garlic and herbs lingered in the air. It wasn’t planned, but it was perfect.
Over plates of fresh pasta and glasses of wine, the conversation flowed easily, loosened by the champagne and the natural rhythm you and Nic had always had. It felt almost like old times—like those late-night dinners during college when it was just the two of you, talking about anything and everything.
Nic leaned back in his chair, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. “So,” he began, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Are you going to tell me what happened with buying into your practice? You mentioned it earlier this week, but you never really talked about it.”
You swirled the wine in your glass thoughtfully. “I’m supposed to be, early next year. But… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like something I want to commit to just yet.”
He frowned slightly, intrigued. “Why not? You’d be great at it. Dae couldn’t stop raving about how great you are after you took out her wisdom teeth. And—” he paused, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I may have read some of your practice’s Google reviews.”
You stared at him, incredulous. “Oh my god. You’re a stalker!”
He laughed, holding his hands up defensively. “I was curious, alright? But seriously, you’re a great surgeon. Why not take the next step?”
You shrugged, resting your chin on your hand. “Maybe I’m too young to be running a business. Or maybe I just want a change of scenery. I’ve been thinking about going back to the public sector for a while now.”
Nic tilted his head, considering your words. “You want my thoughts?” You nod eagerly, eyes glassy. “I think you should do what feels right for you. Whatever you decide, you’ll be amazing. You always are.”
The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten, and you looked away, focusing on the last of the wine in your glass. The warmth between you felt almost tangible, a fragile, growing thing that neither of you wanted to disturb.
The walk back to Nic’s Airbnb began with an invitation over the last sips of wine at the restaurant.
The two of you had been lingering long after your plates were cleared, the conversation meandering between work, college memories, and everything in between. Nic leaned back in his chair, his tie slightly loosened, his hand absently turning the stem of his glass.
“I don’t want this to end yet,” he admitted suddenly, his tone light but honest. “There’s too much I still want to catch up on. Come back to my Airbnb? We can keep talking.”
The offer was casual, no hidden agenda—just Nic being Nic. And yet, the way he looked at you, his brown eyes warm and steady, made something in your chest tighten.
You hesitated for only a moment, your inhibitions softened by the wine and the comfort of the evening. “Sure,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips. “Why not?”
His relief was subtle, but you caught it—a small exhale, a quick grin. “Good,” he said, setting his glass down and standing. “Let’s go.”
The walk back was steeped in an easy, wine-laced warmth. Bellagio’s quiet streets were lit only by the occasional glow of a streetlamp, the lake shimmering softly in the distance. Nic walked close beside you, hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed for the first time in what felt like years.
“I just—” he began, glancing at you before looking back ahead, “I didn’t want the night to end yet. It feels like we’ve only just started catching up.”
You felt your stomach flutter, a mix of the wine and the way he said it—earnest and almost boyish. “I get it,” you admitted, your voice soft. “It feels like there’s too much to fit into one dinner.”
He grinned, looking down at you briefly. “Exactly. So… thanks for coming with me. Even if it’s just to hear me ramble a little more.”
You laughed, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “You? Ramble? I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Oh, I do. Just ask Josh,” he teased, and the two of you slipped back into a conversation about work and life.
Somewhere along the way, he asked, carefully, “So… anyone back in New York? You know, in the last five years?”
The question caught you off guard, but the curiosity in his tone wasn’t intrusive—it was tentative, like he was almost afraid of the answer. You shook your head, smiling wryly. “Not seriously. Just a few failed Hinge dates here and there. I’m married to my loupes and luxators, apparently.”
Nic chuckled, shaking his head. “That tracks.”
You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And what about you? Mr. Los Angeles?”
“Pretty much the same,” he admitted with a small shrug. “I tried dating—key word: tried. But nothing stuck. Guess I’ve been married to my caseload.”
His honesty surprised you, though it shouldn’t have. Nic was always like that—direct, but in a way that felt safe. And now, as you walked beside him, it struck you how little had changed in some ways. The years apart hadn’t dulled the pull you felt toward him, the way his presence seemed to make everything else fade into the background.
When you reached his Airbnb, a modest but cozy villa tucked into a quiet corner of town, he held the door open for you, letting you slip off your heels with a sigh of relief. “God, I think these shoes are trying to kill me,” you muttered.
Nic smirked, setting his keys on the counter. “Well, you survived. That’s what matters.”
He reached for a bottle of red from the kitchen counter, pouring two glasses and handing one to you before settling onto the couch. “One last glass?”
“Twist my arm,” you teased, sinking into the cushions beside him.
The atmosphere was easy, relaxed, but the wine added a subtle haze to the air. Nic leaned back, his shirt slightly untucked, his tie loosened from the long day. The disheveled look suited him too well, and you found your gaze lingering more than you meant to.
The low lighting softened his features, but the sharpness of his jawline, the curve of his mouth, were impossible to ignore. And it wasn’t just how he looked—it was how he made you feel. That giddy, nervous energy you hadn’t felt in years, the kind you used to feel back in college when he would smile at you in just the right way.
Your thoughts drifted. You were reminded of late-night study sessions, sitting shoulder to shoulder, the proximity enough to set your pulse racing. The way he’d brush his hand against yours when passing you a pen. The stolen glances that made you wonder if he felt it, too.
And now, here you were again, sitting beside him like no time had passed, even though it had. The tension was there, just under the surface—a hum of possibility neither of you seemed ready to act on, but both of you felt.
Nic glanced over at you, catching your gaze. “What?” he asked softly, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile.
“Nothing,” you said quickly, looking down at your glass. “Just… you look relaxed. It’s nice.”
He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “You do, too.”
The air between you shifted, quieter now but charged. And as the conversation resumed—stories about work, the moments you’d missed—you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was where you were always meant to be. With him. Here.
The warmth of the red wine lingered, like a soft haze wrapping around the two of you as the evening stretched into something quieter, something slower. You and Nic had settled into a comfortable rhythm, trading stories and laughter, the conversation ebbing and flowing like it always had. But now, as the hour grew late, the air between you felt heavier—charged with something unspoken, yet deeply understood.
Nic set his empty glass on the coffee table, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. You looked down at the fleeting contact, your pulse skipping in response.
“I missed this,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, pulling your attention back to him.
“This?” you asked softly, tilting your head.
He smiled, his brown eyes catching the faint glow of the lamp. “You. Us. Talking like this.”
His words struck something deep, and before you could respond, he shifted slightly, leaning closer—not too much, just enough that the space between you felt almost non-existent.
“I need to ask you something,” he said quietly, his voice threading through the stillness.
Your heart stumbled, but you nodded, trying to keep your voice calm. “What is it?”
Nic’s gaze flickered down to your lips, lingering for just a beat before returning to your eyes. “Can I kiss you?”
The question was so tender, so deliberate, that it almost unraveled you. He didn’t rush the moment, didn’t move until you answered. But the intensity in his gaze left no doubt about what he wanted—and what you did, too.
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice steady despite the way your heart raced.
Nic’s lips curved into the faintest smile, like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for your permission. Slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing along your jaw, his touch feather-light as if testing the waters.
And then he closed the distance.
The first press of his lips against yours was soft, tentative, a question in itself. He didn’t rush, didn’t push. His hand moved to cup your cheek, anchoring you to him as the kiss deepened ever so slightly, a slow, languid exploration that felt like coming home.
You melted into him, your hand finding its way to his chest, where you could feel the steady, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. It matched your own, as if the two of you were syncing after years of being out of tune.
The kiss grew heavier—not rushed, but more certain, as though every lingering doubt or hesitation was being stripped away with every gentle pull of his lips. His thumb brushed along your cheekbone, grounding you in the moment, and you responded in kind, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a reclamation of everything you’d lost, a connection you thought you’d never have again. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the years apart, not the mistakes or misunderstandings—just him, and you, and the way he made you feel like you belonged.
When he finally pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, you opened your eyes to find him watching you, his gaze soft but searching.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, a slow, steady smile spreading across your lips. “Yeah. More than okay.”
Nic’s own smile mirrored yours, his hand still cradling your face like he was afraid to let go. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t think I can stop now.”
You laughed softly, the sound breaking the tension just enough to make the moment feel light again, but the undercurrent of emotion remained. This was Nic—your Nic—and for the first time in years, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.
Nic kissed you like he was trying to etch the moment into memory, his lips slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that made the world tilt just slightly on its axis. Your arms looped around his shoulders as his hands anchored themselves at your waist, fingers curling like he was afraid to let you go.
Before you even realized it, you’d shifted closer, settling into his lap like you belonged there—because, God, didn’t it feel like you did? His hands slid up your back, pulling you firmly against him as your heart pounded in time with his.
When you finally pulled away, your breaths mingling in the stillness, Nic’s hands stayed exactly where they were, holding you in place as though releasing you would undo everything. His head dropped to your shoulder, and for a moment, he just held you, his chest heaving with something that felt almost like relief.
Then he let out a soft laugh, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His grin was boyish, a little crooked, and entirely unguarded. “You know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “for the first time in a long time, it feels like the world’s finally spinning the right way.”
You blinked, your chest tightening with an ache so sweet it almost hurt. “Yeah?” you managed, the word coming out a little breathless.
He nodded, his expression softening as his hands squeezed your sides. “Yeah. And you… you’re right at the center of it.”
Your laugh came out shaky, barely masking the tears threatening to spill. But they weren’t tears of sadness—not this time. “You’re such a sap,” you teased, though your voice betrayed how much his words had wrecked you in the best way.
Nic grinned wider, leaning in until his forehead touched yours. “You like it,” he murmured, his tone playful but sure.
“I do,” you admitted, your smile widening even as your heart soared. “God help me, I really do.”
For a while, you just sat there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of everything unspoken melting into the comfort of his arms around you. The quiet between you wasn’t empty—it was full of possibility, of shared breaths and unspoken promises.
Eventually, Nic tilted his head, brushing his lips against your temple. “This… this isn’t just a moment, right?” he asked softly, his voice uncertain for the first time that night.
You cupped his cheek, your thumb grazing his skin as you smiled. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
His eyes searched yours, and whatever he saw there seemed to settle something deep inside him. He let out a long breath, pulling you even closer, his arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let go.
And as you sat there, wrapped in each other on that worn, comfortable couch in a quiet little Airbnb, it hit you—you didn’t need grand gestures or perfect timing. You just needed this. Him.
Because in Nic’s arms, the past didn’t matter, and the future didn’t feel so daunting. There was just now—just you and him, finally back where you belonged.
#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas alexander chavez x you#nicholas alexander chavez imagine#nicholas alexander chavez fic#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#writing#nicholas chavez#grotesquerie#monsters: the lyle and erik menendez story#elle’s worx
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i think as humans we should go bald cyclically. lose all our hair in the summer, get it back in the winter. and our hair should grow much faster than it does currently, so people could still have fuckoff long hair if they wanted, during the time of year when we would have hair. it's kind of like animals who grow thicker coats in the winter, except we would be totally bald in summer. more like deciduous trees, except on the opposite schedule. anyway. those are my notes for the next update.
#saw a dogwood tree and thought 'oh cool it's going bald'#and then i got jealous because it will grow back in the spring. man. i want to go bald without having to do anything#and stay bald for a while without having to do anything#and then get my hair back a few months later#but noooo i either have to go to the barbershop every few weeks or i have to have fuckoff long hair all the time#if i want to buzz all my hair off it will take a few years to grow back to an interesting length#and i'd rather be bald in the summer because keeping hair off my neck is such a pain. in the neck even#hair#my posts
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Mr. Take Your Bitch
Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 8.2k
Content Warning: jk is a little cocky, player! jk, reader gets flustered so easily, jk is such a tease, smooth talker jk, clubbing, ft bts, interviews, reader is small (like 5'1), insults, alcohol consumption, infidelity, readers boyfriend is an asshole, mentions of smoking, impulsive jk, what happens in vegas stays in vegas, messyyy, suggestive themes, sweet gestures.
Other Content: hair pulling, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), squirting, missionary, jk splits reader in half, big dick! jk, doggy style, dacryphilia, praise and degradation, cream pies, minor possessive jk, unprotected sex (be better than them), recording.
"How do I look?" Sunny tosses the perfectly sculpted curls in her hair once more, pouting in the dressing room mirror, making sure that not a strand was out of place.
"For the eighth time, you look great, as always." She stands, her red off-the-shoulder top accenting her white pencil skirt and perfect figure, she really did look gorgeous. "Great isn't enough. This is the first time I'm interviewing THE BTS. I need to look perfect."
"You do. I promise." You reassure with a comforting right hand on her shoulder while you center her necklace with your left. "Y/n, we need you out here to help set up." Your manager cracks the door open to call for you briefly before leaving.
"I still cannot believe you dragged me into this coffee girl job just for you to get close to Namjoon." Sunny's full lips stretch from ear to ear showing off her million-dollar smile, "What's so wrong about me wanting you nearby for emotional support? But at least I got you a job out of it, 3 weeks ago you were on the brink of poverty.'' Her arms crossed and you had to admit, she did have a point.
"What was the whole point of this again?" You simply had to ask, remembering the midnight phone call Sunny surprised you with about a month ago when she landed the Hybe interviewer position.
"Remember the story I told you about, in Junior year, me and this boy from math camp snuck out 6 miles away with fake IDs and got shitfaced at the nearest bar then hooked up but I never got his name and he was in the middle of signing my journal we were interrupted and I never saw him again until-"
"You saw Namjoon's face on a billboard in Seoul, and you took this opportunity to get close to see if it was him or not. Yes, I remember now, it's all coming back to me." You finish her story for her.
"Exactly, and-"
"--Y/n, sometime today would be great." Your manager interrupts once again and you leave, apologizing frantically for making them wait, not wanting to lose this job. It actually paid pretty well considering all you did was make drinks.
Walking out of the dressing room, ignoring the buzz in the back pocket of your jeans as you followed your manager to the coffee cart offset. Although from here you had a perfect view of where the interview would take place.
They set it up to be very stylish and modern with BTS albums and concept photos placed strategically around the set within the camera shot. Along with a small coffee table, one chair on one side where Sunny would sit and seven on the other side.
It almost gave you chills to think about. The fact that in a few moments, the most popular boy band in the continent would be sitting right there. All seven of them, including the tempting one.
The one who makes you stumble over your words every time he comes down to the first floor to get a coffee even though there's a gazillion other places to get something to drink in the building.
Every time you see him, he's displaying a new style. Sometimes he comes down stacked with complex layers of clothing and covered in jewelry, or with nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, although the latter was possibly the worst of your few interactions. He's just so handsome, it made you want to squirm.
That day he was saying all the right things, yet saying nothing at all. Asking you simple questions like when you started working here, and if you liked coffee, meanwhile all you could mutter was an embarrassing 'yes'. What exactly you were saying yes to? You may never know.
You turned your back to the set and focused on making the pre-ordered drinks the members had sent down with their manager beforehand. By the time you turned back around Sunny was sitting in her place, anxious but ready.
You've been best friends since the 6th grade. She's incredibly outgoing and sociable, a balancing contrast to your more introverted nature although you could be a little extroverted with some alcohol in your system.
She was born for this job, you're sure she'll kill the interview. She mentioned that she'd bumped into a few of the members since she started working a month ago, but not Namjoon.
She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to 'bump' into a man who is guarded by security constantly and extremely busy, not to mention rarely in the country.
Hoseok was the first one to walk in, looking sharp as ever in casual attire but he he made it look incredible. Next was Jimin, and you noticed the way Sunny's eyes nearly widened when she finally saw Namjoon walk in behind Tae.
Finally, they were all inside and all greeted Sunny with a friendly hug and you can see she enjoyed her hug with Namjoon a little too much. Somehow finding something small to laugh about with him as they pulled away.
With an empty cup in your hand, you watched the most handsome group of men you've ever seen, file into the room and take a seat. "Go set these down before cameras start rolling." You feel a tap on your shoulder from another worker.
Did you zone out?
You placed a firm hand on your chest, taking a deep breath before placing a sturdy grip on the handles of the cart and bringing their beverages over. 'One foot in front of the other' you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the feeling of their gazes turning to you as you got closer.
Unable to look any of them in the eyes as you set down their drinks on the table saying the name of each one so they know which one is theirs.
You could feel his gaze on you whilst Sunny got to witness it first hand from where she sat. The way his jaw slowly clenches with each passing moment, watching you with dark, intense eyes. In that moment, the world around him blurred, and all that remained was the captivating image of you.
It was while you were placing down the final cup that you felt bold enough to finally look up from the table, glancing at Jimin who was talking to Hoseok on his right. Slowly your line of sight inches up and over his head to Jungkook who was sitting on a taller chair behind him.
He was looking right at you.
And that was more than enough for you to return to the cart and retreat to your station. The boys reached for their cups as the countdown to the interview began.
You watched with engaged eyes from the sidelines as the interview began, going through basic introductions and standard questions, you were listening along to the jokes made along the way.
It seemed they were having a great time out there, but you couldn't focus on all of them for too long. You wouldn't be doing your duties as Sunny's best friend if you didn't watch Namjoon's every move; including how he seemed to be the first one to answer almost any of her questions.
The questions were flying by and the discussion was so entertaining to watch but it was over before you even registered it. Sure, cameras had stopped rolling but they were all still talking.
You felt another buzz in your pocket, finally deciding to check.
Daehyun: Are you still mad? It's been 2 days, you're being dramatic. 12:02 pm
Daehyun: Why aren't you answering my texts? 1:12 pm
Daehyun: Fine. Keep ignoring me. Real mature, Y/n. 1:13 pm
You scoff at the messages.
Unbelievable.
Your boyfriend has left you astonished. Again!
You put your phone back on silent, secretly wishing you'd never checked it in the first place. Muttering under your breath about what a jerk he's been to you lately but you stop yourself. Because he's still your boyfriend, and sure, he fucked up a few times, bad. It doesn't change the fact that you're in a relationship with him.
If you could even call it that.
You've slept together twice. Well- 1.5 times if you wanted to get specific. The second time was so bad that you simply had to stop it altogether and make up some excuse so that you didn't hurt his feelings.
Shaking him out of your head and focusing back on your task at hand which was collecting the empty mugs from the table. Repeating the same process as before, avoiding all eye contact, but this time you didn't look up.
You didn't bother because you already knew he was watching you.
You were intimidated but you weren't oblivious.
-
"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" You hear her from around the corner before you see her running towards you at your coffee station on the first floor. Sunny was practically bursting. You would think that she had captured the sun between her hands but it was something that would take your life for a spin, but you didn't know that yet.
"You're interview went so well!" You slip in your comment first knowing that once she says whatever she has to say, it'll go on for years.
"I know right! After you left to pack up, I was still talking to the guys and they really seemed to like me so they invited me and any +1 I want to invite on their weekend in Vegas trip tomorrow night! All expenses paid for!" Jaw-dropping wasn't the word. Knee buckling may be a better fit as you had quite literally stumbled and dropped a mug, thankfully it didn't break.
"No. No no no." You say, backing up and her entire demeanour deflated like a devastated puppy. "Why not?" You lean in close, whispering, "Because Jungkook is gonna be there--" She interrupts you, practically exploding with emotions. "Oh my god, he wants you so bad. Did you see the way he was looking at you?!" She whisper shouts.
"I know!" you plain shout out, realizing your volume needed adjusting and leaning forward onto the counter. "But he's Jeon Jungkook and I have Daehyun-" The most disgusted look runs across Sunny's face.
"I cannot believe you are even comparing the two right now. You said it yourself, one is Jeon Jungkook, and the other is Daehyun, a man you should've left in the dust months ago." Here we go again, you sigh.
"C'mon Y/n. He's an asshole, he's childish, he's bad in bed and honestly, the list should end there but no, he humiliated you in front of your family and he was caught in your sister's dm's on Christmas!!"
"It's May for god's sake and he's still stressing you out, and seeing you stressed makes me stressed. So why don't you come tomorrow, I'll keep you away from Jungkook if it comes to that, but please, you need to let loose a little and forget about him for just the weekend." She begs.
She could see you were starting to consider it.
"Please?" She pouts, giving you those same puppy eyes that convinced you to work here in the first place. "Please don't look at me like that, stop." You try to avoid her sorrowful gaze but It's like it intensifies to a point where you just can't look away, nor can you deny.
"Fine, fine. Okay, I'll go."
--
Considering you only just found out you were leaving the country yesterday, you think you did pretty good packing light but efficiently.
That's what you were thinking as you stepped behind Sunny onto the empty private jet. She'd already made arrangements to sit beside Namjoon.
She was crazy but you had to give the girl credit, she worked fast.
You weren't taking in a single thing, part of you was still in disbelief you had even seen the boys up close and personal yesterday.
This would all sink in for you in 5 years and then you'll be hit with a numbing regret of not doing things differently.
Or maybe it'll sink in for you right now, Jimin's full head of brown wavy hair is the first one you see to pop up on the plane and he flashes you a kind smile, taking a seat beside you.
He introduces himself as if you and half the world don't already know him but you engage anyway, giving him your name and the rest is history.
The flight was 11 hours so there was a lot of ground to cover between the two of you for the first 6 hours. Jimin was just such an easy person to open up with, any time you said something crazy you felt like he would have an even crazier story of his own to share.
He'd told you all about his first impressions of the guys to his first scandal that the label somehow managed to cover up because even you were in shock. It would have been over for him.
Then it was your turn, telling him about your exhausting boyfriend since it all started seven months ago.
"On Christmas?!" He shouts, "Why are you with him again?" You groan, "God you sound just like Sunny!"
The two of you were clearly enjoying your conversation while Sunny worked on getting Namjoon to talk a little bit about his past, trying to see if he really was the boy from all those years ago, but he seemed occupied reading his book and she wasn't going to interrupt him any longer. She sighs softly, looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by like art.
Meanwhile, at the front of the jet, Jungkook typed away on his laptop, sometimes blurbing some possible lyrics, but mostly keeping himself busy with a thousand rounds of Tetris. He tuned out the sound of your angelic laughter with his headphones, but it couldn't stop him from glancing to the back of the plane where you sat with Jimin every so often.
Only about an hour left before you landed and you really needed to pee but Jimin was in the way and fast asleep. You looked around, it seemed that everyone was fast asleep, but you really had to go.
Lightly tapping Jimin and asking him to let you through, he moves, half awake, just giving you enough time to pass before going back to his original position.
You exited the bathroom, nearly falling to the ground in horror when you came face to face with the man you'd nearly forgotten was on the jet. He smiles that classic bunny smile that the fans go crazy over.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says it so sweetly, and in this hushed tone due to the late hour of the night it was making your head think things. Things that you should not be thinking about.
"You okay?" Checking in, seeing that you seemed to have zoned out mid-conversation. Shit. You were doing it again. "Y-yeah." You hated speaking to him it made you feel like you couldn't speak at all. He was just so tall, and his eyes were so big and endearing and-
"Really? Cause it looks like you've got something on your mind." It comes out in such a way that brings heat to your face, suddenly hyper-aware that everyone is asleep, and the two of you are out of sight in the narrow hall of the bathroom.
"Yeah, just excited for tomorrow." You lie, you felt sick to your stomach. He made you sick to your stomach. He gets a little closer, now close enough for you to be able to smell the soft cologne on his clothes. "What's got you so excited?"
It felt like you were watching yourself fall from the sky, it was slow but graceful, but you knew once you hit the bottom, things would get ugly. So you grew wings. "My boyfriend. We're planning on Facetiming tomorrow." It was like a repellant, the way he stepped back.
"Oh, that's nice." He mumbles and you take this opportunity to run back to your seat, hopping over Jimin and strapping yourself back in your seat, shaking your head over and over again.
This was a bad idea. You should not have come on this trip.
-
"She has a fucking boyfriend." Is the first thing Jungkook says to Yoongi and Jimin while the three sit in the back of the taxi that is en route to the hotel. Yoongi wasn't listening, still half asleep after only waking up 30 minutes ago. He would need a repeat of it all tomorrow.
"Pfft. Barely." Jimin mumbles. Triggering quite possibly the fasted head turn known to mankind, Jungkook looks at him with intrigue, "What do you mean by that."
"He's an asshole. Like a literal piece of shit, but she's still with him for whatever reason. It's gotta be Stockholm syndrome." Jimin shrugs. "But you can't tell her I told you this, I think she's pretty cool, so before you get your dick wet, think with your head first."
Yoongi hums in agreement with that one statement. He may be asleep but he knows a good statement when he hears one.
-
Jungkook did think. He thought about you all night. From the cab to the hotel, until he fell asleep and again when he woke up. Sure, you had a boyfriend, but it sounds like you shouldn't be with him, or at least deserved someone better.
The morning sun seeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the lavish surroundings. You and Sunny share a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience that awaits. Or at least that's what Sunny thinks.
Instead, you retreat under the covers of your bed with an unpleasant sound. "How could I let you bring me here." Your voice is muffled and scratchy from it being the morning still. "Because you love me." She runs from her bed and jumps onto yours.
"Should we get room service?" She proposes and you slowly pull the covers down, revealing an interested expression. "Who's paying?" You ask. "Who cares! It's not us." She springs up and bounces for the phone.
By the late afternoon, you'd gotten an invite from Jimin, inviting you guys down to the pool, it was reserved just for them. "We're going, this isn't up for debate, Y/n. You said you would relax on this trip, so it's my job to make sure you do!" She pulls out the violet two-piece you'd packed in your luggage and shoves you into the bathroom, throwing the clothes in there with you after and shutting the door.
"I hate you y'know," you say from the other side of the door.
"You'll thank me one day, Y/n. One day."
-
There was a roar of cheers from the guys as the two of you walked into sight, the sun was beaming down on you and you were glad you brought your sunscreen.
Jungkook tried to be respectful to the sham of a relationship you were in but what was he supposed to do? You looked so hot in your bathing suit, you were so small but you still had curves in all the right places.
He just wanted to break you in half. Pin you down and-
A splash of water hits him in the face, "Stop eye fucking her and act like you've been neutered for once." Yoongi warns, swimming away before Jungkook could retaliate.
Jin calls Sunny into the water, and she just about jumped in while you were working on unwrapping your new bottle of sunscreen. Jungkook uses this as an opportunity. Looking down at the white shirt that was now soaked through, sticking to his abs he slowly steps out of the water.
Looking you right in the eyes as you shook the bottle. Now you were staring but you didn't care. You were looking at the son of Adonis, or maybe the god himself.
In the warm glow of the poolside sun, Jungkook emerged from the sparkling water, droplets cascading down his glistening skin. The pool's rippling surface bore witness to his athletic grace as he approached the pool chair where you reclined, still shaking the bottle.
His steps were confident, each one leaving a trail of water on the tiles beneath his feet. As he neared, he held your gaze with an intense, playful glint in his eyes. The air between you became charged with a magnetic energy, and a sly smile played on his lips.
With deliberate movements, Jungkook reached down to the hem of his white shirt, clinging to his sculpted physique. The fabric peeled away, revealing the contours of his toned abs. Beads of water followed the curves of his body, accentuating every defined muscle.
As the shirt came off, the sunlight caught on the droplets clinging to his skin, creating an ethereal effect. The sensual eye contact between the two of you intensified, creating a moment suspended in time. The poolside ambiance seemed to hush, allowing the connection between them to take center stage.
Your fist clenched, the sunscreen blurted out of the bottle, some landing on the smooth skin of your thigh but most hit the chair.
Jungkook's expression hinted at a playful confidence, acknowledging the allure of the moment. Your little accident told him all he needed to know. You wanted him.
Even if you didn't know it yet.
Wiping desperately at the sunscreen that had landed on you, a bigger hand comes to help. Gently rubbing the soft flesh of your thigh, Jungkook was crouched to your level with nothing more than a sincere smile as he helped you with your sunscreen.
Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water as you watched him from beside yourself. Unable to believe what was happening. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, and other places but you shook your head.
"Wh-what-" Jungkook looks up to you, moving his hand away. "My bad. I didn't mean to overstep, I just noticed that you'd spilt some of your sunscreen," He inches just a little closer so that you looked down at him from where you sat on your chair. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."
That mischievous tongue of his makes an appearance briefly as it swipes over his bottom lip before retreating; leaving behind glossy plump lips. It's not what he says, but how he says it.
Almost as though he wanted you to break.
You hated how he made you feel without saying anything out of the ordinary.
"You have to be shitting me," Yoongi curses to no one in particular as he watches Jungkook lean up towards you from where he was floating in the pool on the flamingo inflatable.
"You've gotta admit, the boy's determined." Jin adds while Hoseok shakes his head, "He just doesn't know when to give up."
--
Opening your hotel room door to see Jimin leaning against the wall waiting for you. He looked incredible in his black button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair swooped to perfection.
"About time." He kicks himself off the wall as you scoff, "Don't blame me, blame the dress." Your freshly manicured nail points to the red, velvet dress that left your chest exposed before it went under the halter neckline.
There was so much skin offered to anyone that looked at you. You looked absolutely stunning. The way the dress clung tightly to your curves was almost ungodly but made you seem even more angelic.
Twirling on your toes slowly to showcase the full rotation of your outfit and Jimin failed to suppress his gasp. The back- Your back was completely exposed safe for where the halter crossed behind your neck.
"You look hot, and I'm not just saying that." You grin, leading the way to the elevator and waiting for it to come up.
While you were watching the elevator screen, Jimin was watching you. Not lustfully or anything since he really did see the two of you becoming close friends in the future but his gaze was full of.. fear?
Jungkook was going to eat you alive tonight, and he was willing to put money on it.
The man has been able to show limited amounts of self-control since the trip began, and his little shirtless stunt at the pool earlier that day was proof.
The elevator dings and the doors open.
You step in, hearing your phone vibrating from within your maroon chain side bag. Digging through your various lipsticks, mini perfumes and hair pins you finally grab your buzzing device.
Daehyun: When did you go to Vegas?? and how did you get there? 4:33 pm
Daehyun: Baby, I'm sorry. I mean it. Stop Ignoring me. (now) 8:12 pm
You sigh, scrolling through your messages sadly. "Am I being too hard on him?" Jimin leans over to look at the messages, his face turning sour at Daehyun's messages. "I bet you he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for."
The elevator doors close, and Jimin presses the star symbol for the nightclub on the first floor where you would meet the others.
Shaking your head repeatedly, "No. That's impossible. He knows, Jimin. Trust me." He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest,
"Okay. Since you're so sure-" He snatched your phone from your grasp, his fingers moving at the speed of light and you panicked, reaching for the device but he held it high. "Jimin No-!"
"I said 'What are you apologizing for'. I won't send it if you don't want me to. But It seems like he's only apologizing because he knows he's in the wrong, but doesn't know what for."
The elevator dings, going down floor by floor, the silence slowly creeping up on you, "Send it." You say, and his thumb hits send.
The doors open.
You and Jimin step out into the club. Before you sprawled a vast expanse of vibrant colours. Neon lights adorned the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of hues that danced in rhythm with the music.
The dance floor, surrounded by elevated platforms and VIP booths, was the epicentre of the vibrant spectacle. Mirrored ceilings multiplied the dazzling display, creating a sense of endless sin.
"Do you know where they are?" You ask while Jimin leads the way into the crowd of hot bodies and blasting music, he glances down to the text from Tae, "Tae said they're in section 9." Maneuvering your way through the swarm of people until you meet up with the others.
Jimin walked up the steps first, the group's cheers blending in with the roars coursing throughout the rest of the club as he joined them with you closely behind, the cheers continuing for you with whistles once you reached the platform.
"Oh shit!" Sunny curses, rushing to your side to shower you with compliments. "I guess being 30 minutes late pays off, you look great." Tae welcomes you with a side hug and an invitation to sit beside him.
"You need to cool it." Jin pulls Jungkook in by the collar so that he could hear him over the music. Jungkook finally pulls his hungry gaze off of you and looks to his elder.
"You're making it way obvious, and obvious is not what you want. She has a boyfriend. There are hundreds of other girls here, find someone else." He lets him go and Jungkook shakes his head.
How Jin even found out that you had a boyfriend didn't phase him. The seven of them were as close as brothers, it was hard for him and Jimin to keep anything to themselves.
Hundreds of girls but they weren't you. He couldn't just switch it on and off. This wasn't as fun and playful as it once was before, he was starting to get addicted to the thought of you.
"You have any pre-rolls on you?" Jungkook leans over to Namjoon who was deep into a conversation with Sunny. Namjoon reaches inside the pocket of his blazer, "Never leave home without them."
"Great. I need a smoke." Jungkook huffs, standing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. God you looked so fucking fine in that dress, it made him crazy, sick to his stomach.
He's Jeon Jungkook for god's sake.
The concept of want is so unfamiliar to him. Any girl he wants could easily be in his bed the same day, but you-- he shakes his head bitterly-- you were giving him a hard time, all over what? some lame-ass boyfriend.
"Namjoon you comin' ?" He looks over his shoulder to see both him and Sunny standing, "Mind if I join?" She asks, "The more the merrier."
You watched as the three of them disappeared into the bustling crowd vanishing out of sight. "Where did they go?"
Tae leans forward looking at where the trio had just walked through. "Probably went to go ball up." Tae shrugs, "Which means it's time to really get this night started. First round on me."
It wasn't until three shots later when Jungkook had finally come back, this was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a black jacket that had the most delicate body chains striping across his abdomen, giving you a clear view of his sculpted abs and-
Your phone buzzes.
You: Why are you apologizing? 8:13 pm
Daehyun: Because you're upset. (now) 9:27 pm
God, Jimin might be right. He doesn't have a clue.
You: Do you even know why I'm mad? 9:27 pm
Daehyun: Is it because of the nudes I sent Soo-Min? I was drunk, I promise. It was a mistake. 9:28 pm
You gasp. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were referring to him standing you up when you told all your family that he would be coming. You never knew this had even happened.
You: What the fuck are you talking about? 9:29 pm
You: I cannot believe you right now. 9:29 pm
You: Stop fucking texting me. 9:30 pm
You weren't even sad or disappointed. You were used to him letting you down constantly. "Looks like you need another shot." You look up from the screen in your lap, making eye contact with ringed fingers wrapped around a shot glass with your name on it.
You take the shot in your own grasp, looking Jungkook in the eyes as you down it. Your face wincing a little at the burn in the back of your throat but you were beginning to feel that exciting warmth in your chest.
The strobe lights turn red as Chris Brown's Take You Down begins to play through the loud speakers all around the club. "Wanna dance?" He offered you his hand, your brain was a little hazy and your cheeks were flushed but Jungkook was too hot to resist.
"Love to."
The two of you walk off to the dance floor with the rest of the crowd.
Taehyung looks to Jin who looks to Hoseok who looks to Yoongi.
Yoongi sighs, shaking his head slowly taking another shot. "It's out of my control. Once they step on that floor, their fate is sealed."
It's true, the moment Jungkook's hands were on your hips that swayed to the music you knew you were screwed. You had every right to be apprehensive about going on this stupid trip in the first place, but deep down you knew it was inevitable.
This very moment was destined from the start.
"You look fucking perfect tonight." He whispers in your ear from behind you, subconsciously pushing your hips back on him and Jungkook could swear he's never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at this very moment.
"Says you," You spin in his hold, now face to face.
His grip on your hips tighten, body unable to maintain its façade for much longer. Your hair was up in a bun tonight, showing off the industrial piercing he never even knew you had.
There were so many things he wanted to know about you, and not just physically. He wanted to be able to sit with you over a cup of coffee and talk about everything and anything.
His tight hold on you prompted a breathless whine to escape your lips but he heard it. "Stop it." He says and your eyebrows scrunch, genuinely confused. "Stop what?"
"Stop tempting me. I'm trying to be respectful." Astonishment wipes over your features. "You're telling me to stop? It's been you all along, making me trip over my words, and being so shirtless and hot all the time, making me forget I have a boyfriend." He chuckles.
"So you admit it. You think about me too?"
You step back.
"Yes, Jungkook. I cannot stop thinking about you and that's my problem. I need to get you out of my head." Your mouth was saying one thing, but with the way he was looking at you, your heart wanted him between your legs.
The almost forgotten feeling of lust finally coursed through your veins. It'd been so long since you'd gotten any action, you needed this.
But you couldn't.
He steps towards you, even closer than before. You could feel his firm body crowding against your own. The way he towered over you made you feel dizzy. He leaned down, ensuring that you could feel his warm breath on the shell of your ear when he spoke "Tell me you don't want me and I'll walk away."
You don't want him. you lie to yourself.
Trying to put these thoughts into words, your mouth opens.
"I need you, Jungkook." Finally admitting it.
There was no going back now, his lips crashed against yours with nothing less than an animalistic desire. It was fast-paced and messy but you loved it.
The dam finally broke.
You kissed with more than your lips, his hands on your waist, squeezing tight as he rolled his hips into you with the rhythm of the music.
This was so so wrong, but it felt so right.
The way his tongue rolled over your bottom lip with such skill made your thighs clench, you could only imagine the things he could do with it--
"Y/n!" Sunny screams your name from behind you, not even processing what you and Jungkook had just been doing while Namjoon was busy enjoying the music behind her.
You turned around, a little breathless and bothered after being disrupted but you were immediately occupied with analyzing Sunny's appearance. For starters her hair was ruffled and looked like it'd been put through the wringer, her lipstick (what was left of it) was fading and a little smudged.
And last that you checked she was wearing lashes when the night began but they were nowhere to be found. "Sunny where did you go-- Oh my god- Did you and Namjoon-" Her non-stop nodding causes you to clasp your hand over your mouth.
"It's him! He remembers me!" The two of you have your moment, squealing before Jungkook whispers in your ear. "Meet me at the elevator in 5." Sunny actually does catch on this time.
"Oh my god!? Are you gonna-"
You think about it, "I don't know!! Should I?! Daehyun just voluntarily admitted to sending nudes to Soo-Min god knows when and-" Sunny groans. "Leave him, for the love of god y/n stand up!" She yells.
"I can't just leave him he's my boyfriend, and it wouldn't make me any better than him." Sunny's eyes roll. "It won't be cheating if you plan on breaking up with his ass tonight. Just hurry up and decide, Jungkook's waiting for you." She winks and it gives you butterflies.
He was waiting for you.
The moment you turned the corner of the hallway, you saw Jungkook waiting outside the elevator as he said he would be, finally pressing the button. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," he laughs internally to himself at the double entendre, knowing Jungkook's track record, this has never been an issue for him.
The two of you step inside the elevator, it would be a long ride up to the 21st floor, the two of you did your best to stay to your respective sides of the elevator until there was a crowd of people that entered as well, pushing you into him.
Completely oblivious to the way your ass was pressed flush against his crotch, he looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this kind of punishment.
A beautiful girl pressed up against him but he couldn't do anything. As the crowd moved, so did you he hisses and your body stills, finally aware of what you were doing.
On the 13th floor the elevator empties completely, leaving just the two of you and you try to move away from him but his grip holds you in place. "Didn't think you'd be running from me so soon." You'd never heard his voice like this. It was deeper, bass full of wants and desires,
He spins you around, he had you cornered.
Looking up to him with that doe gaze of yours. His index finger gently rests under your chin, your gaze was practically begging him to kiss you, but in case he was hesitating you nodded just a little, permitting him to open your lips with his.
This kiss was a lot slower and deeper than the one before. It was soft and sweet, but slowly turned into a full-blown make-out session by the time the elevator made it to the 21st floor.
He leads the way to his room at the end of the hall, beside Hoseok's room.
Jungkook worked on unlocking the door while you chewed on the tip of your acrylic. Were you really about to do this?
"I'm going in my room, and you don't have to follow, but I'm leaving the door unlocked." He says, disappearing behind the door. Looking over your shoulder, your room was 4 doors down.
You could still back out now, it wasn't too late.
All you would need to do is have a long talk with Daehyun.
You scoff, even his name irritated you. Your heart knew things weren't going to work out between the two of you once you got back home, regardless of whether you slept with Jungkook or not.
He's broken your trust far too many times, and besides, Sunny was right, he is an asshole.
You walk into Jungkook's room and make sure to lock the door behind you.
"That's my girl," He purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before gracing you with a heated kiss, the kind of kiss that made you stumble as he walked you back to the door.
"Hope you put that phone on dnd." He whispers, kissing down your neck, skillfully managing to take your hair down at the same time. You looked like the epitome of sin, hair falling over your shoulders as if it fell from grace while your neck was littered with hickeys, your plump bottom lip tugged between those perfect teeth of yours.
Your dress was the first thing to go, he loved it on you, but it served its purpose, and it did it well. Soon his jacket was finally off revealing his muscular build that you'd seen in the fan cams but it couldn't compare to the real thing.
You kissed him back desperately as your legs were wrapped around his waist while he made his way to the bed, dropping you down to your back watching the way you bounced.
Your perfect tits are the first victim of his passionate affection. Leaving tender kisses on the soft flesh, "Jungkook-" you gasp feeling him wrap his lips around your nipples, tongue working hard to push you towards that edge that you'd been inching closer to since you got in here.
He groans as he feels your hands roam over his back, anticipating the feeling of your nails scratching his skin. Finally moving down from your breasts once they were covered with his kisses and hickeys.
You could feel yourself practically soaking through your under, not to mention the way it was sticking to you. "Looks like someone's worked up," he teases, slowly peeling you out of your ruined underwear.
"What's got you so hot and bothered, is it your boyfriend?" You sit up so fast almost getting a head rush and he laughs. "Jungkook." You say and he gives you a look of lust. "What? Say it baby, use your words. Tell me who makes you this wet. Is it me or him?"
You press your legs together, unable to believe that this was turning you on more. "He couldn't turn me on." He looks up to you with wide eyes. "Is that so?" Nodding your head slowly, letting Jungkook gently push you back down to the bed.
On his knees he takes a deep breath at your core, a guttural sound rumbling in his chest as he was face to face with your dripping core. "So you're saying it's me?" he asks, letting his tongue run a flat stripe against your soaked folds.
"YES! It's you Jungkook please, stop teasing, please I can't take it. I'm already so close." You beg, body thrashing around enough for him to pin your legs over his shoulder and to keep you still.
You were stroking his ego, telling you you were already so close and he's barely touched you. Your boyfriend must've been shit in bed, and he was determined to make it up to you. He was going to show you what you've been missing.
Finally eating you out to his heart's content, ignoring the way your feet continued to move frantically over his shoulders he lapped up at your core, flicking his tongue over your clit until your body spasmed uncontrollably. "I'm-" Unable to even finish the sentence before you were blinded by an earth-shattering orgasm.
It ripped through you like a storm and came squirting out of you just like one too. "You've got to fucking kidding me," Jungkook murmurs to himself and you froze. Was he mad?
He stands up, "Of course the hottest girl I've ever seen squirts on my tongue. Good fucking hell, Y/n. It's like you want me obsessed with you." Who was he kidding, he was already obsessed.
He picked you up so carelessly, bringing you to the balcony where it overlooked the Las Vegas strip. You could see the hotel's illuminated pool and all the car lights as they zoomed on the highway far in the distance.
"Hope you're not scared of heights."
Your stomach twisted at the thought of being so high up, but it was all forgotten once your leg was propped up and you felt your folds being prodded open by the fat head of Jungkook's cock.
"No- fuck! Wait." you cursed feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of his size nearly causing you to fall but he held you steady against the railing, bulging biceps on either side of your body, caging you in safely.
Jungkook knew better, this should be the last place he should be doing something like this but with your pretty ass right in front of him it was such a beautiful sight, and the scenery was cool too.
"It's too much," you pant, arms bracing yourself on the fence that kept you from falling 200 feet below. "It's only the tip baby, you sure you can take the whole thing?" You pause in thought, you needed him, all of him. "I can take it. keep going." You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every nook and cranny of your womb.
It felt like he was in your lungs, you were knocked breathless, and he didn't move. Your body went limp in his arms, exactly what he feared would happen. He quite literally split you open, but you were determined to take it.
You clawed at the railing desperately, looking for any kind of relief from what you were feeling. "Deep breaths baby, I'll go slow." You nod, eyes squeezed shut as his hips slowly roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in.
"Oo-oh. fuck. Jungkook, keep going." you moan, head falling onto your hands; feeling what was once pain morphs into an addicting, sweet pleasure, over time his pace picks up until he was fucking into you with no remorse.
Even if no one could see you from this high up, they sure as hell could hear you. The way you cried out his name like a prayer over and over while Jungkook's brain was short-circuiting with the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds it created.
"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this, huh?" He angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace even though you've already come twice now. Your body jolts with each snap of his hips.
You shake your head, but that isn't enough for him, flipping you around so that you're facing him, he pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.
"Use your words Y/n. You're my smart girl, look me in the eyes and tell me that your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do." Your eyes snap open, "He c-could never fuck-!" Jungkook slowed down his thrusts to something so much deeper, your eyes rolled and Jungkook nearly came just at the sight.
"Shit, I'm gonna come." He pants, and with a few more erratic thrusts you feel his warm cum fill you up. He slowly lets you stand but your legs fail you immediately. Scooping you up in his arms effortlessly he brings you to the bed, clearly not done with you.
That's how you found yourself on the brink of your third orgasm while Jungkook plowed into you from behind, obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock.
Your arms had given out long ago hence why your cheek was smushed into the sheets of the bed while you whimpered like a whore. "God you should look at yourself," He laughs almost maniacally from behind you.
Feeling himself approach his climax, "Jungkook- please!" you cried out, the friction only adding to the stimulation, "m' gonna-" you try to get back up on your arms but you couldn't move.
"I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he saw you like this,'' A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he reaches for your phone that was forgotten somewhere on the bed, hitting record.
Pulling you up onto your arms, tugging your hair by a makeshift ponytail, the flash highlights the various bruises all over your body left by yours truly. The audio was picking up his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the room was quiet enough you could probably hear the welt squelch of your cunt sucking in his length with each push.
"Shit, shit, shit!" You cry out, coming once more and your body goes limp, Jungkook ends the recording and tosses the phone to the side while he chases his own high finishing soon after you.
He pulls out slowly, "Y/n, baby? Are you with me?" He taps your cheek gently, and your eyes barely open, "I think you fucked the soul out of me," He dares to flash you a nervous smile as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb.
"Come, let's get you cleaned up."
-
"That was one hell of a trip." You mumble to Sunny on the phone as you wheel your suitcase down the hall to the door of your apartment where there was a big bouquet of flowers.
"Oh my god," You say, crouching down, wincing a little as you did to read the card. "What?" Sunny asks and you explain what you were seeing.
"Do you think they're from Daehyun?" You scoff, "Fat chance."
You open the envelope to read the card aloud,
'To the hottest girl. We should get donuts sometime, I heard you like them cream-filled ;) Text me sometime xxx-xxx-xxx. -J.K'
Sunny squealed in your ear.
"I'll call you back." You say, dialling Jungkook's number.
"Hello?" He answers.
"You got me flowers?" You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face, and he could hear it. He closed his fridge and leaned on the counter, "You like 'em?"
Holding the vase in your hand you take a deep sniff, "I love them."
He shakes his head. "This is so sad. You're too easy to impress. Let me treat you better than that jerk, Y/n." Your mouth falls open-
"How- What?"
"Jimin mentioned the details to me but don't get mad at him; it doesn't change the fact that the guy is an asshole." You sigh.
"I know."
"So?" Jungkook starts, waiting for you to say something.
"I think you mentioned something about cream-filled donuts. When and where?"
He smiles.
#bts#jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jungkook fic recs#bts one shot#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#btssmuts#bts scenarios#fluff#bts smut#smut
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BITTER SWEET ᥫ᭡࿔
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x kook!thornton!Reader
Summarize: Rafe Cameron, a rising name in the business world, desperately needs a date for the wedding of the year. With a major investment deal on the line and his image at stake, he finds himself reluctantly turning to the last person he ever expected for help: Topper’s little sister, a girl he’s bickered with since he could remember.
Warning(s): cursing, Rafe being Rafe.
A/N: English isn’t my first language and I did my best to edit it all - so if something escaped me, please, let me know. Feedback is more than welcome .ᐟ
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ Chapter two: shopping for disaster ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊
Rafe Cameron sat in his car outside Topper's house, the black SUV gleaming under the midday sun. He glanced at his watch for the third time in less than ten minutes, annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. Rafe had dismissed all his meetings in the afternoon and a few in the morning to make sure he'd be there in time so she wouldn't have an excuse to back away from it. He hadn't expected her to take her sweet time, but he should have known better.
Rafe should've known you weren't be civil even if you accepted it. Which, to be honest, still surprised him. He was ready to have the door slammed on his face but it seems not even you could say no to some easy money.
His phone buzzed with a text and for a moment, he thought it was saying you'd be down in five, but it was just Topper reminding him about their gym session tomorrow morning, having no idea what his best friend and sister were plotting behind his back. He sighed, shifting in his seat, the leather creaking under his movements in a way that had his annoyance growing. Why was it taking so long for you to get ready? You weren’t going for some fashion show, just to buy stuff downtown.
"Fucking bitch" Rafe muttered under his breath, hitting the horn a couple of times. He was already regretting all of this. The longer he sat there, the more the idea of bringing you as his fake girlfriend felt like a terrible decision. You'd probably jump at every chance to mess with him like you were doing now.
Just as he was about to give up and head home to, hopefully, contact a few clients, he spotted a car pulling up. He hadn't seen this one around before and by the low price, it surely wasn't your family’s. From the rearview mirror, he saw the loser push his aviators up, leaning in to kiss the girl. Rafe's stomach twisted as Topper's sister slid out, your hair tousled and a satisfied smile playing on your lips. Gross.
The sight of her closing the passenger door sent a jolt of irritation through him, mixed with something he couldn't quite identify. You looked carefree, laughing at something the guy said, and for a moment, Rafe felt like an intruder on a private scene he had no right to witness.
"Seriously?" he muttered under his breath, slamming closed the door of his truck. Were you hooking up while he was waiting in the sun?
You turned around towards the voice, your smile fading when you caught sight of him. His jaw clenched and his gaze sharp.
"Rafe?" you asked, surprise etching your features as you adjusted the strap of your bag, the casual air of confidence slipping slightly. You hadn't noticed his car when the touron parked. "You're early."
If Topper heard about this, you'd be dammed. You had told him you'd be sleeping over a friend.
"Or you're late.” he replied, crossing his arms, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "What was that all about?"
Your brows furrowed, the glint in your eyes replaced by defensiveness. "I had... plans. Not that it's any of your business."
"Plans? Is that what you call it?" Rafe shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface as he ran a hand through his buzzcut. "You said we'd leave at noon. Did you really think it was okay to keep me waiting while you were off with some random douchebag? I fucking canceled my meetings to be here on time because you wanted to go shopping for shit!''
"As if you care, idiot." you snapped, the challenge in your voice clear. "I'm doing you a favor, remember? You have no right to question me about my plans and he wasn't a douchebag."
"Because I thought you'd have some decency!" he countered, irritation lacing his tone as he struggled to keep his voice down, walking closer to you. He points towards the car was minutes ago. "That asshole didn't even open the door for you when he dropped you off."
"Well, it was better than sit around and wait for you!" you shot back, an eyebrow raised defiantly as you wrapped your hair in a messy bun, feeling too hot from all this arguing in the sun. "It's not like you're the perfect image of being on time."
He shook his head, trying to tamp down the rising anger and something deeper that he always refused to acknowledge. "Let's just go, alright?" he muttered, opening the passenger door for you with an exaggerated sight.
You arched a brow, starring at him while he stood there with the door held open, for you. Whatever. You shook your head, clenching your jaw as you moved to the passenger seat, only to realize a second too late that you needed to change into something… well, better. The door was already slammed closed and Rafe was already on his seat.
Rafe started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. The radio was off and you had your arms crossed over your chest, looking to the window with an almost unnotiaciable pount on your lips. He didn't even give you time to shower and change. How could you go shopping in a t-shirt and jean shorts? Rude. Brute.
"Do you even have a plan for this?" you asked after a few minutes in silence, watching the front of the boutiques.
"Yeah, I figured we'd just wing it" he replied, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. Did Topper know you were hanging around with broken tourons now? If not, he'd make sure to tell him later.
"Wing it? You're kidding, right?" you laughed, but the sound had a sharp edge. A superiority that crawled under his skin. "People love to gossip at these events. If we just act like we're a couple, someone will definitely ask questions."
"Fine." he snapped, annoyance dripping in his voice as he parked the car in front of one of the many expensive stores of the island. "What do you suggest then, Mrs. Director of Fake Dates."
He hopped off the car and you rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag. You muttered a thank you as he opened the door for you, stopping in the sidewalk.
"Where did you say the wedding was again?" you furrowed your brows, not really remembering this piece of information. "Well, anyway. We need a backstory. Something believable. How about we say we've known each other since we were kids? You're my brother best friend. We had a falling out last summer and decided to give it another shot. Cliché. People eat that shit."
"Italy" He shrugged, following you as you decided which store would be first. You stopped in your tracks, looking at him with arched brows.
"Did you just say Italy as if in Europe?" you blinked, taking a deep breath as you nodded at yourself.
“How many fucking Italies do you know?” He snorted as his head turned to look at you, dumbfounded. You forced a smile, showing him the middle finger.
"Don't worry. It's just for one weekend, I told you." He held open the door of the boutique you stopped in front of, pushing you inside by the shoulder. "Let's keep the details of the story short, alright? The less people know, the better.”
“All right, Mr. Boring. Time to find me a dress that won’t embarrass you.”
Rafe followed you inside, mentally preparing himself for the impending chaos. The store was bright and stylish, filled with an array of dresses and heels. You immediately dove into the racks, pulling out pieces in vibrant colors and flowing fabrics, not sparring him a second glance.
Fuck, he could already feel his pockets hurting.
“Help me out here,” you called over your shoulder, an armful of dresses piled high. “You’ve got baby arms but let’s see if they can handle this.”
He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he picked up a few dresses. “I don’t have baby arms,” he retorted, but the smirk on his face betrayed his amusement. Baby arms, really?
“Are you serious right now?” you teased, glancing back at him with a playful challenge in your eyes. “Maybe I should get you my workout plan instead of a dress.”
He shot you a glare, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile before he caught himself. “Just get what you need, and I’ll carry it, but don’t expect me to play your little games.”
You grinned, the mischievous light in your eyes making his heart race. Because you were infuriating. “Oh, but you’re going to play. It’s part of the deal.”
You’d already been through several rounds of dresses - each one met with a casual nod or a half-hearted comment from Rafe as he scrolled on his phone. A sleek black gown had caught his eye for a moment, and the deep red one had nearly made him lose his cool, but he managed to keep his reactions under control. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of knowing just how much he was affected. You already were infuriating enough without him feeding your ego.
But then you stepped out in a blue dress. It wasn’t just any blue dress—it clung to you figure like it was made for you, the fabric flowing and shimmering as you walked. It hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating you curves in a way that made his breath hitch. The neckline dipped just enough to draw the eye, and the slit running from the edge of the dress to the top of you thigh was nothing short of provocative. Rafe felt his heart race, an unfamiliar heat burning in his veins.
He caught himself staring, quickly snapping his gaze back up to your face. Get it together, Cameron. She was annoying, infuriating, and the last person he should be looking at like that. Yet here he was, shifting in his seat, a strange heat building in his chest as you spun around and gave him a look that practically dared him to say something.
“What do you think?” you asked, your voice teasing but soft, as if you already knew the effect the dress was having on him.
He cleared his throat, trying desperately to summon one of his usual sarcastic remarks. “It’s… fine,” he managed, though his voice didn’t carry its usual edge.
You tilted your head, eyes gleaming with amusement as you starred at him through the mirror. “Fine? Just fine?” You pouted and turned around. You stepped closer, and he could feel the air between you grow thicker. “You’re not even looking.”
“I’m looking,” he muttered, his eyes betraying him again by glancing down at your legs before he moved it to his phone. He hated how easy it was for you to get under his skin. Every part of him was screaming to look away, to say something snarky and put you in her place, but for once, he couldn’t find the words. You looked too good. He hated it.
“No witty comeback? Wow, I’m impressed,” you teased, taking another step forward, the fabric of the dress shifting with your movement in a way that only drew his attention more.
He swallowed hard, doing his best to remember why you annoyed him so much. You’re frustrating. You’re a pain. He forced himself to think of every little thing you’d ever done to irritate him, but the sight of you in that dress made it nearly impossible.
“At least you’re as hot as you are annoying,” he finally muttered under his breath, shaking his head in a vain attempt to hide the fact that his pulse was racing.
You raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted with his response. A surprise chuckle escaped your lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Rafe huffed, trying to regain some composure. “Don’t get used to it,” he said, though the slight crack in his voice betrayed him.
“Too much for your business crowd?” you asked, spinning around in front of the mirror, your tone laced with amusement.
“Nah, you’ll fit right in,” he said, though his mind was screaming the opposite. Too much. Way too much. Too much for his own sake.
As you turned back to the mirror, adjusting the slit in the dress, Rafe allowed himself one more glance, feeling a mix of frustration and something else bubble up inside him. He preferred you when you were just annoying.
“I’m not carrying you out when those heels become too much,” he tossed out, trying to steer the conversation back into a safer territory.
You laughed, not missing a beat. “Don’t worry, I can handle myself. But it’s nice to know you’re concerned.”
“Concerned?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “More like I just don’t want you slowing me down.”
But as you disappeared back into the fitting room, he leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair in frustration. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little infuriating sister helping him with this. Yet with every passing second, it felt like you were becoming something else entirely. He couldn’t shake the way his gaze lingered on you, how he was beginning to dread the moment you’d step out of his line of sight. When did you turn human and stopped being a complete bitch?
Maybe it’s just been too long since Rafe got laid. Yeah, that was right. Between throwing his dad’s ashes and building a name for himself in the business world, Rafe barely had time to find some release. He’d fix it tonight.
Rafe was already at the counter, signing off on the receipt for all the dresses you’d tried on and decided that would be used in the weekend. His jaw clenched as he tried to ignore the numbers.
“Well, that was fun,” you quipped, an exaggerated smile as you leaned next to him, telling the lady that he’d be carrying all the bags.
Rafe shot you a look, muttering, “Fun? For you, maybe.”
“Come on, Rafe,” you teased, “one of the conditions for me agreeing to this whole thing was that you pay for everything.”
He scoffed, sliding his black card back into his wallet. “Yeah, trust me, I’m well aware. Still doesn’t make it any less painful.”
“Don’t be such a baby. We’re practically made of money,” you said, glancing at the bags filled with dresses for the wedding weekend. “Besides, you should be thanking me. You’re the one getting something out of this.”
“Yeah, I’m getting a headache.”
You rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully - a bit too hard. “You’re so dramatic.”
He offered you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen before shoving half of the bags to you.
As you stepped out into the street, Rafe hesitated. Against his better judgment, he found himself saying, “You hungry?”
You blinked, clearly surprised. “Why, Rafe Cameron, are you actually offering to buy me food after spending all that cash on dresses?”
“Don’t push it,” he grumbled, starting to walk toward a small café nearby. “But since we’re supposed to be convincing everyone at this wedding, we might as well figure out the rules over lunch.”
You followed, a surprised smirk playing on your lips. “Rules? You mean besides the one where you’re my personal ATM for the weekend?”
“Yeah, that one too,” he said dryly as they found a table outside the café, placing the bags down not so gently.
You sat down, menus in hand, and for a brief moment, they both seemed content to sit in silence. Until you broke it.
“Okay, so first rule,” you glanced up from the menu. “No kissing.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Why would think I’d kiss you? I’m not desperate”
“We can hold hands, lean in, whatever. But no actual kissing,” you insisted, tone firm. “This is strictly business.”
“We can hold hands, lean in, whatever. But no actual kissing,” she insisted, her tone firm. “This is strictly business.”
“Strictly business, huh?” He smirked, shaking his head. “You say that, but you’ll be the one swooning if we get too close.”
You let out a laugh, clearly unimpressed. “Please, Cameron, if you were half as charming as you think you are, you wouldn’t need a fake girlfriend in the first place.”
“Oh, I’m charming enough. You’re just stubborn and blind.” He leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “Admit it - you’re at least a little curious what it’d be like.”
Your smile faltered just for a second before it was replaced with a disgusted face, “Curious? About you? Only to see how much more annoying you can get.”
Rafe’s gaze flickered down to your legs as you shifted in the seat, his jaw tightening as he caught himself. Annoying. Infuriating. But damn if you’re not hot, he thought, biting back a comment. His expression hardened, trying to snap himself out of it. He really needed to get laid, quickly.
You crossed your arms, leaning forward a little. “Second rule: no jealous boyfriend act. I don’t need you scaring off guys at the wedding.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Why would I be jealous? Get over yourself.”
“Yeah, okay,” you leaned back in your chair. “Just remember, this isn’t real. No need for the possessive act.”
“I got it. Fake dating. No jealousy,” he repeated, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“And no trying to use this as an excuse to annoy me,” you added with a pointed look. “Topper won’t be knowing about this. Ever.”
Rafe barked out a laugh. “Annoy you? That’s practically the only fun part of this arrangement.”
“Right, because you’re soooo fun to be around,” you shot back, rolling your eyes dramatically.
“Look, just follow my lead, alright? I’ll make sure we don’t look like complete idiots in front of my business associates,” he said, picking up his menu.
“I’m not the one who looks like an idiot,” you muttered under your breath, pretending to read the menu.
He snorted, clearly hearing you, but chose not to respond. The air was filled with silence again as they waited for the waiter.
Finally, you set your menu down and locked eyes with him. “Okay, but one more thing.”
“What now?” he asked, exasperated.
“No flirting with other girls while we’re there. I’m not covering for you if you get caught in some hotel scandal.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, half amused and half annoyed. “Please. I should’ve known you were the jealous type.”
“Oh, sure,” your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just stick to the plan, Rafe. We get in, play our parts, and get out without embarrassing ourselves. You can handle that, right?”
Rafe leaned in slightly, his smirk still in place. “I don’t know, princess. You seem pretty good at embarrassing yourself. Might be contagious.”
You glared at him but couldn’t hold back a small smile. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re still here, so what does that say about you?”
You opened you mouth to respond, ready say that it made you the kindest person in the world, but the waiter returned just in time to take your orders. As you waited for the waitress to come back with your order, you pulled your phone to scroll, had seen enough of Rafe’s face for the afternoon.
You tried to think of the best way to survive this fake dating arrangement with as little emotional damage as possible for one weekend. Maybe you’d end up killing each other first.
“Can you…” you took a deep breath, nibbling on your bottom lip while you looked around before meeting his gaze. “Not tell Topper about what you’ve seen earlier?”
“The douchebag?” Rafe arched a brow, his jaw tensing as he remembered the encounter, your hair tousled.
“He isn’t a douchebag but yeah, that.” you let out a long sigh, sipping on your juice.
“I’ll think about it. Let’s see how you will do during the wedding, huh.” He offered you one of these smug smirks that made you want to punch his face. Of course he wouldn’t make things easy for you.
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ON REFLECTION
Naoi Rei x Male Reader
word count: 7K
The room's light struggles to reach the dark corners of the apartment as you sink into the couch, tired and a little lost. The TV is off, but the screen reflects distorted fragments of you and Rei, who sits in the opposite armchair. She’s sitting cross-legged, and the expression on her face is hard to decipher. The Hello Kitty pajamas don’t match the look she’s giving you. You've known Rei since high school, and now you've been roommates for two years, and in that time, you've seen every nuance of her emotions. But today, she seems different. She watches your fingers toy with the remote. Your head buzzing—maybe from lack of sleep, or perhaps the confusion that has become your life these past few days. Either way, the silence between you both grows heavy, and it eventually becomes unbearable.
"I'm leaving for a few days," you finally say, your voice low, dragging, almost as if you’re testing the words on your tongue before letting them go. "I need to get out of here, out of the city. Go to a friend’s place."
She doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she runs a hand through her hair, playing with the ends as if pondering the best way to voice what’s on her mind.
"Let me guess: because of her, right?" Rei’s question is loaded with an implication you don’t want to face.
And then, she narrows her eyes... daring you to lie.
You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.
“What do you mean?"
Rei scoffs, the sound half a laugh, half frustration. "You're going to leave me here alone?" She leans forward slightly, her hands now resting on her lap. "Are you abandoning everything just because she left you?" Her tone is direct, like she’s poking at an open wound, but you know Rei never sugarcoats her words.
"Rei, you've been alone before," you respond, trying not to sound insensitive, but realizing you failed the moment the words leave your mouth. "I… I just can’t take this place anymore. This apartment, the memories…"
She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
“The problem,” she starts, choosing her words carefully, “is that you’re going to throw away everything we planned. You’re leaving our plans behind because of that bitch.” The word comes out sharp. There’s no hesitation, no trace of guilt or regret.
"Rei, it's not that simple." You feel the need to justify yourself, to explain what you don’t fully understand. "I… I just need some time, you know? Space to think."
"Space to think?" She repeats, as if it’s a bad joke. "Think about what? About how she treated you like garbage? How she made you feel small every time you did something she didn’t like?" Her tone and gaze burn in a way that makes you flinch. "Or maybe you want to think about how she hated when we spent time together? How she made you choose between... her and me..."
You remain silent, the weight of her words crushing any response you might have had.
"Rei…" you try to start, but she cuts you off again.
“No! Now you're going to listen to me!”
She rises from the armchair, the pink pajamas swaying with the movement, and walks toward you with determined steps. “We planned to watch all the Halloween movies, remember? And it wasn’t my idea. I hate horror movies, but I was going to watch them because you wanted to. And now you’re telling me you’re not in the mood?” She stops in front of you, crossing her arms, her expression a mix of anger and hurt.
“Rei, it’s not about you, it’s about… everything.” The words seem insufficient, hollow, as if they can’t capture the chaos in your mind. “I just… need to get away for a while.”
She takes a deep breath, her hands now clenched into fists at her sides.
“You’re really blind, you know that?” she says, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. “I’ve been right here. I’ve always been here.”
You watch her, feeling a knot form in your stomach. “What do you mean by that?”
Rei doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she lets her arms fall and, in a fluid motion, sits on your lap, so close you can feel the warmth of her body, her scent— that soft vanilla fragrance that always seems to follow her.
“I’m saying,” she begins, her hands now gently holding your face, “that you’ve never really seen me. Never noticed what I feel for you. And it seems that even now, you still don’t.”
You feel your heart race, as if you’re running a marathon without moving. “Rei, I…”
“Shh,” she interrupts, her finger touching your lips. “You don’t need to say anything. Just listen to me, okay?” She sighs. “I’ve always been here. Always. Since day one. I’ve taken care of you, helped you get back up every time she knocked you down. And I did it because… because I love you.”
The last word hangs in the air, heavy and inescapable. You feel like the ground has disappeared, like you’re falling endlessly into an abyss of uncertainties and emotions you didn’t know existed.
Rei continues, ignoring the shock on your face. “I know this might seem sudden, but… it’s not. I’ve always felt this way. I was just waiting for you to notice. But it seems you’re too blind for that.”
She leans in, your faces so close you can feel her breath against your lips. “I don’t want to be your friend, never did. I want to be more than that. I want you. And I’m not going to let you run away from me now, not after everything.”
Before you can respond, she kisses you. It’s not a gentle or hesitant kiss. It’s a kiss full of need, of desire, of years of repressed feelings finally released. And you kiss her back, because deep down, you know she’s right.
When the kiss finally ends, you both sit there in silence, just breathing, absorbing what just happened. Rei rests her forehead against yours, her eyes closed, more vulnerable than ever.
“Now do you see?”
You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Because for the first time in a long time, everything makes sense.
Memories come in waves, thick and suffocating like the warm air in the apartment that winter. It’s as if the memories from that week have been waiting for this moment to surface, forcing you to face what you’ve tried to hide for so long.
You remember when Rei got sick, a fever that seemed to burn through her, leaving her fragile and trembling. The flu came out of nowhere, turning her into a weakened version of herself, someone you almost didn’t recognize, except for the look she gave you, that spark that never completely faded, no matter how much her body was suffering.
You walked into the room that first night, the tray in your hands trembling slightly. Ginger tea with honey. Toast, because she couldn’t eat much more than that. She was curled up in a heap of blankets, the Hello Kitty pajamas that always made her seem childlike now seemed like a useless armor against the illness. You placed the tray on the bedside table and sat beside her, the mattress sinking under your weight.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” you asked, knowing the answer would be the same as always.
“Like I got hit by a truck,” she muttered, her voice raspy and trembling. She could barely keep her eyes open, but she forced herself to smile at you, because that’s what Rei did. Even when she was broken, she tried to make you feel better.
“Well, at least you’re still beautiful,” you said, trying to get a laugh out of her like you always did. You reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, your touch soft, almost reverent.
She rolled her eyes, but the smile widened a bit. “Stop it. I look like crap and you know it.”
“No, seriously. You’re like… the sick version of Hello Kitty. The cutest, the prettiest.” You smiled, and she finally let out a weak laugh, a sound faint but full of life.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, but there was tenderness in her voice.
During that week, daily routines became rituals between you two. Mornings were for medication and warm soups, afternoons for tea and old movies she couldn’t watch to the end without falling asleep. But the nights… the nights were different. They were the moments when everything seemed to slow down, and it was just you and Rei, together in the darkness, talking openly about anything, trying to forget she was sick, trying to make her feel normal.
“When you get better,” you said one night, as she lay on her side, looking at you with those big, tired eyes, “I’ll cook whatever you want. Anything.”
“Anything?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Even sick, she couldn’t resist a challenge.
“Yeah. As long as it’s something I can make without burning down the kitchen,” you replied.
“Then I want… the best pasta you’ve ever made in your life,” she said, her lips curling into a smile.
“Pasta?” you repeated, as if she had just asked for something exotic.
“Yes, pasta. But it has to be special. I don’t know how, but I trust you to figure it out.” She looked at you with a confidence that made your heart ache. As if she knew you would do anything to see her smile again.
You remember how, that week, the apartment seemed to exist in its own universe. The world outside kept spinning, but in here, it was just you and Rei. You remember staying up late, listening to her breathing, holding her hot, feverish hand, waiting for the fever to finally break.
There was a moment, on one of the hardest nights, when you really thought she might get worse. The fever was high, and she was delirious, mumbling incoherent words. You held her hand, squeezing it tight, as if that could anchor her back to reality.
"Hey, I'm here," you said, your voice firm, trying not to let your anxiety spill over. "You're going to be okay. I promise."
She looked at you, her eyes filled with confusion and pain, and for the first time that week, you saw fear there. Not the fear of dying, but the fear of losing something, of losing you.
"Don't leave me," she whispered, and the vulnerability in her voice broke you in a way nothing else could.
"I'll never leave you," you replied, and in that moment, you realized how true that was.
These memories blend with the present as Rei sits on your lap, her eyes on yours, waiting for you to finally understand what she's trying to tell you. She has always been here, by your side, taking care of you, just as you took care of her. And now, with her so close, you finally understand what has always been right in front of you. The world around you seems to shrink until there's nothing left but the couch, the soft glow of the room, and the warmth of Rei's body on your lap. Time slows down, each second stretching to the point of almost breaking. Her breathing, light and steady, echoes in your ears like a persistent whisper, mixed with the sound of your own racing heartbeat. Your eyes meet, and you realize there's nowhere left to run.
Rei doesn't move. She doesn't try to force anything, just watches you, as if waiting for something. Maybe for an answer. Maybe for a sign that you've finally understood.
"What are you going to do now? Ignore this... or face it?"
There's a part of you that wants to retreat, but something stronger, something that pulls you forward. Unconsciously, your fingers move to her waist, finding the soft skin beneath the thin fabric of her pajamas.
Rei closes her eyes for a moment, as if absorbing the moment, and you feel her body relax under your touch. When she opens her eyes again, there's a sparkle there, something you've never seen before. "I love it when you touch me," she says, and there's a smile on her lips, a smile that is both a statement and a confession. "I've always loved it."
Your heart pounds in your chest, the reality of the moment finally starting to take root in you. But before you can process it, she continues, the words coming out fast, as if they've been held back for too long.
"And of course, she knew." Rei's voice is now harsher, carrying a brutal frankness. "Your ex-girlfriend, that bitch. She always knew. That's why she never liked me. Because she knew that at some point, I would take you from her. Because you were always mine, even when you didn't realize it."
You remember all the times your ex-girlfriend made passive-aggressive comments about Rei, the thinly veiled jabs, the looks of disdain. It all makes sense now, as if a piece of the puzzle has finally fallen into place. Rei leans in a little closer, her face now inches from yours. "She knew that deep down, you didn't want her. She knew you were with me the whole time, even when you were by her side. And she knew I was waiting for the right moment."
You try to say something, but the words get lost before they reach your mouth. All you can do is hold Rei a little tighter, feeling her warmth against your body, the sweet fragrance of vanilla lotion mixed with the scent of her hair.
"And now," Rei says, her voice soft, almost a whisper, "the choice is yours. I'm here. I've always been. The question is... will you finally accept my love? Or will you keep pretending you don't feel the same?"
You know there's no turning back. Not after this.
You lean in, your lips almost touching hers, and the decision has already been made before you even realize it. Because finally, you understand. All you need to do is allow yourself to feel.
"I never wanted her," you finally admit, your voice rough, as if the words had been trapped for too long. "I just didn't know that... I always wanted you."
Rei smiles, a smile that lights up the room, and before you can say anything else, she kisses you. And in that kiss, there are all the answers you've been looking for.
Because deep down, you always knew she was yours. And that you were hers.
When your lips part, you say, "Forgive my indecision, Rei."
She smiles.
"Already forgiven, silly."
So this is the moment of truth. Everything is falling apart around you, and the only thing left is this girl, Rei, looking at you with hungry eyes. She’s already made it clear that she wanted you, that she wants you. Always has. Your ex-girlfriend is just a detail now. And at this moment, it's as if every mistake, every wrong choice, was necessary to get here, with her, at the exact moment when the stars collide.
Rei is on your lap, where she’s always belonged. You kiss like you're drowning, each kiss a rescue from a lost past, and she keeps whispering between kisses, "Kiss me," "Kiss me more," as if it’s never enough, as if your lips still can’t reach what she really wants. The sound of her breath, heavy and fast, is like music, and all you want is to get lost in it, to drown in the innocence of this moment. And when you finally stop to breathe, that's when you really see her. There, so close, the adorable face, lips shining with saliva, dressed in that cute pajama that makes her look innocent. As if this were some kind of final test to see if you can resist what she’s become: the perfect girl.
"Make me yours," she asks, her voice a murmur between kisses. Every word carries a need that goes beyond the physical. It's as if she’s offering her soul, and you feel the weight of it, the gravity of this moment. It’s not just sex. It's so much more. It's mutual possession.
"You will be mine," you respond, and it’s a declaration of dominance, that you’ll have her in every way, that she will be yours and you hers, without reservations, without fear.
You feel your cock hardening, pressing against her. Rei notices, of course. She leans close to your ear, that warm breath against your skin, and confesses, whispers, with a malice that makes your blood boil, a malice that makes your heart race.
"I used to ride my pillow, imagining it was your cock." The image she paints in your mind is raw, almost cruel, because now all you want is to feel her fantasy become reality.
That’s all you needed to hear. She asks in a whining, almost childish voice if you’re going to fuck her, and you answer without any hesitation, "I will." The voice coming out of you isn’t just a reflection of arousal, it’s a promise. One you intend to fulfill with every fiber of your being.
You move to the bed, stumbling between laughter and kisses, the bodies colliding awkwardly but filled with a vital need. As you strip off your clothes, throwing everything to the floor like the world is ending, she looks at you with those eyes, almost asking for permission to be adorable. And there’s no way to resist that silent plea, that look that mixes innocence and lust in a perfect combination.
"Do you want me to keep this pajama on while you fuck me?" she asks, biting her lower lip. "Don't I look cute in it?" It's both a tease and a plea for you to want her even more. And it works.
You can only agree. "Very." The words come out almost as a moan, because at that moment, you know there’s nothing sexier than this mix of purity and perversion, this contrast that is Rei.
And then, without more words, she asks to see your cock. When you take off your underwear, the last barrier between you, her eyes widen, impressed.
"Wow..." She whispers with a mix of admiration and desire, as if she’s seeing something she’s dreamed of for so long finally become reality.
You sit on the bed and Rei kneels in front of you with the same devotion as someone kneeling for prayer. The entire room seems to shrink, every noise from the outside world suffocated by the sound of your quickened breath. She wraps her small hands around your cock, almost as if she’s holding something sacred, something she can’t rush. She drags her palm slowly along the length, exploring every vein, every contour, as if she’s trying to memorize every detail.
Her eyes are fixed on yours, a gaze that’s both sweet and wicked, an intoxicating mix that leaves you completely at her mercy. She smiles a wicked smile before tilting her head and brushing her face against your cock, as if familiarizing herself with the texture, the warmth, the weight. She’s in no hurry, and it drives you crazy. She knows what she’s doing, and you know she’s in control.
She starts with small kisses on the tip, soft, almost chaste, but each touch is charged with a sexual tension that makes you want to grab her hair and push her deeper. But you hold back. This is part of her game, and you don’t want to spoil it. She opens her mouth, letting the tip of her tongue slide slowly and provocatively along the slit at the head, her eyes never leaving yours. It's a deliberate act, one that makes every muscle in your body tense with desire.
She licks around the head of your cock, her tongue moving in lazy circles, spreading saliva until it's glistening and slippery. “I’ve always wondered what your cock feels like, always wanted to know what it tastes like…”
Rei slides her mouth down the length, taking you as deep as she can, and the warmth of her throat envelops you in a wet, pulsing grip. She holds you there for a moment, her eyes closed, savoring the feeling of having you so deep, so completely at her mercy. When she begins to move, it’s slow, dragging her lips along your cock while her hands come down to massage your balls, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure that pulls a low, husky moan from your throat.
She alternates between sucking and licking, her mouth wetting your entire length, creating a rhythm that is as erotic as it is torturous. She lets go of your cock for a second, only to lick your balls, one at a time, sucking them gently while her hand continues to slide up and down your erection.
“I want to hear you moan for me… Yeah, just like that… I love it when you moan like that…”
When she takes you into her mouth again, it’s with more pressure, like she’s hungry for more, like she needs to consume you entirely. The sound of her sucking is obscene, wet, the noise of saliva mixing with the sound of her heavy breathing. She sucks harder, the pressure increasing, each movement faster, more urgent. You can feel the heat building in the pit of your stomach, the pressure mounting as she continues, taking you deeper, moving faster.
“Fuck, Rei… you do that so well…” you manage to murmur, your voice fractured by pleasure. She responds with a muffled moan, a sound that vibrates around your cock and makes your whole body shudder. She speeds up, her gaze locked on yours, eyes gleaming with a mix of pleasure and challenge, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to you and loves every second of it.
Finally, when she feels you’re on the brink of losing control, she slows down, releasing your cock from her mouth, but not before giving one last suck, hard enough to make your eyes roll back. She looks at you, her lips red and glistening with saliva, a thin string connecting the tip of her tongue to the head of your cock.
“I could do this all night… just to hear you moan more for me.”
She moans around your cock, the sounds vibrating through your body, each movement of her tongue sending waves of pleasure that make your muscles clench. “The taste of your cock is so, so good… way better than I imagined.” She whispers between sucks, looking at you with eyes so full of lust they seem ready to explode.
Rei stops, stands up, and you're still seated on the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, she slides her hands down your chest, her nails lightly scratching the warm skin, before slowly turning around, her slender and delicate body moving with a grace unique to her.
Rei is facing away from you now, and you have the perfect view of the soft, provocative curves that drive you crazy. She positions one leg on either side of your thighs, and with one hand she pulls aside the thin fabric of her shorts, revealing the wet glisten of her pussy, while the other hand grips the base of your cock, guiding it with deliberate precision. She lowers herself slowly, the head of your cock brushing against her tight entrance, while a sigh escapes Rei's lips. She doesn’t rush; every inch is a small torture that makes you grip the bed sheets tightly, as if you need something to anchor you to reality.
When she finally sits on your cock completely, taking you all in, the sensation of being inside her, feeling the heat, the wetness, the pressure, is incredible. Rei begins to move slowly, rising and falling in a deliberate, calculated rhythm, each movement designed to give you agonizing pleasure, as if she’s relishing in testing your endurance. Her hands grip your knees for support, and with each roll of her hips, she tilts in a way that makes you sink even deeper into her, each thrust ripping a muffled groan from your lips.
“That’s it, Rei… slow… I want to feel every second…” you murmur, your voice hoarse, almost a desperate plea to prolong the torture.
She tilts her head back and lets out a low moan, filled with pleasure. “Your cock feels so good… it goes so deep in my tight little pussy…” Her words are like gasoline on the already burning fire inside you. The rhythm gradually increases, her movements become faster, more desperate, as if she’s surrendering completely to the desire that’s consuming both of you. The sound of your skin slapping against hers, the wet sound of her pussy sucking your cock, fills the room with a dirty and delicious melody. She keeps riding you, her moans turning into short screams of pleasure.
You feel the need to take control of the pace, so you grip Rei’s waist firmly and pull her up, making her lift off your cock with a frustrated moan. She turns to you, surprised, but you’re already standing, rising with clear intent. Before she can react, you pull her towards you, turning her to face the wall. Her breathing quickens as she feels your body pressed against hers, your throbbing cock against her skin, and she instinctively arches, pushing her ass out for you.
You position your cock at the entrance of her pussy again, wasting no time, and start fucking her standing up, thrusting hard, as if you want to mark every stroke. Rei lets out a sharp cry of surprise and pleasure, her hands bracing against the wall for balance as you fuck her. Your hips move in a furious rhythm, each thrust deeper than the last, each time faster, as if you’re determined to bury yourself as deep as possible inside her.
“Is this what you wanted, Rei? My cock fucking you like this? Tell me…” you whisper in her ear, nibbling on her earlobe.
“Yes! Fuck, I wanted you fucking my tight little pussy…” she responds between moans, her voice trembling with the force of each thrust. “Fuck me harder… I want to feel you all… deep inside me…”
You grab her breasts through the fabric, squeezing them firmly, feeling the delicious weight in your hands as you continue to fuck her hard. Rei’s moans turn into screams, she throws her head back, her hair sticking to her sweaty skin, her body arching as you keep pounding. The sensation of her pussy tightening around your cock, her internal muscles clenching in pure pleasure.
You pull her by the waist, feeling her tense muscles tremble under your grip, and guide her towards the bed. Rei quickly removes her shorts and gets on all fours, arching her back, showing off her dripping pussy, begging to be fucked. “Look at me… look at this pussy… it’s all yours… only yours… so fuck it, fuck it hard…” The sight alone is enough to make your head spin, your whole body screaming to take what’s yours.
Rei looks back over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and submission. “Fuck me… I need you… now,” she moans, her voice almost a whisper, but the plea is as clear as a shout.
You position your cock at her entrance, sliding slowly through her warm, pulsing opening before burying it deep in one single motion. She lets out a high-pitched moan, almost a scream, and the sound echoes through the room. Your hips start moving on instinct, your hands gripping her waist tightly, controlling each thrust, each push that drives her forward and then pulls her back for more.
“Just like that… harder… I want to feel every inch…” Rei begs, her voice broken by the moans that escape with each thrust. Her fingers dig into the sheets, her body arching with every movement, and you obey, increasing the force, the speed, until the sound of your skin slapping against hers fills the room. Her body responds to every thrust, her pussy squeezing even tighter around your cock, as if trying to keep you inside, as if she never wants to let you go.
You feel the moment approaching, the peak of pleasure that’s so close yet seems unreachable. With a hoarse groan, you grab her arms, pulling them back, pinning her under you as you continue to fuck. Rei completely surrenders, her moans turning into screams, her muscles tightening, her breath hitching as you drive her higher and higher until finally, she explodes in a powerful orgasm that makes her tremble beneath you. Her body convulses violently around your cock.
When she finally calms down, you lay her carefully on the bed. Rei looks at you with half-closed eyes, her lips parted in a smile that is both satisfied and hungry for more. You lie down beside her, but before you can relax, Rei is already moving again, climbing on top of you, sliding along your cock, swallowing you in one go, and begins to ride you with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
Her breasts bounce through the fabric with each movement, the skin of her thighs sweaty and glistening in the dim light of the room. Rei unbuttons her pajama top, and you can’t resist touching her breasts, squeezing them firmly, feeling the heat and weight in your hands. Rei tilts her head back, letting out a deep moan, almost a purr of pleasure, and you realize she's reveling in the control, in the sensation of completely owning you. "I'm going to come again... I need to come again..." she says, her eyes closed as she quickens the pace, each movement faster, more desperate.
You can feel her orgasm approaching, her pussy tightening even more around your cock, the heat and wetness increasing with each passing second. Her body moves with a frantic urgency, riding you with all her strength, as if she’s rushing towards a precipice, ready to throw herself into the abyss. And when she finally climaxes, Rei convulses on top of you, her body trembling, her muscles squeezing with an almost painful force, holding you inside her as she loses herself in pleasure.
It doesn't take long before you feel an intense heat building inside you, an unbearable pressure accumulating. Rei is still riding you, and she notices the change in you. She's moving slowly after her orgasm, her hips moving in a rhythm that teases you, rubbing her slick pussy against every inch of your cock, feeling the veins throb against her hot, wet flesh. Your eyes meet, and she smiles, a smile that mixes triumph and desire.
"You're going to come for me, aren't you?" Rei murmurs. "I want you to cover my face with your cum. I want to feel it dripping down my face, sliding into my mouth. Give me all your milk, baby."
Her words are a spark that ignites the last shred of self-control you had. In a swift movement, Rei dismounts you, kneeling beside the bed. She looks up at you, hunger in her eyes, as she firmly grips the base of your cock, her lips slowly parting, ready to devour you one last time. She slides the tip of your cock between her lips, sucking with a pressure that's both devastating and incredibly erotic, her eyes locked on yours as if daring you to hold on for just one more second.
But you can't. Not now. Her hands move with devilish skill, gliding up and down the length of your cock as her tongue desperately circles the head, licking, sucking, begging for you to drop your huge load on her.
"Come for me, baby," she whispers between sucks, her voice so full of lust that you almost explode right then and there. "Cover my face with your cum, please. I want it all, I want to feel you."
And then, just as you feel the climax explode inside you, Rei pulls your cock from her mouth, holding it inches from her face, her lips curled into a wicked smile. "That's it, come on my face, cover my face with your cum."
The first jet of cum hits her face with force, spreading across her nose and cheek, slowly dripping toward her lips. She closes her eyes, her smile widening as more jets follow, coating her skin. "That's it, baby... more... give me everything," she moans, feeling the cum drip from her eyelashes, slide down her chin, turning her face into a canvas of pure, dirty pleasure.
"Do it, mark me with your cum," Rei continues, running her fingers across her face to collect more of your cum and slowly licking them, savoring it like it’s her own addiction. "Fuck, I loved that... I loved everything, your taste, your smell, your touch, the way you make me feel so... so slutty."
Even after you've given everything, Rei still milks you with her hands, ensuring not a single drop is wasted. She licks her lips, tasting you, moaning softly as she savors every last drop. "Fuck, this is so warm, so good," she whispers, her voice drunk with pleasure, her eyes still closed as she basks in the sensation.
"Fuck… That was amazing, I loved every second, Rei," you say.
Finally, she opens her eyes and looks at you, a sweet smile on her lips. "From now on, our days will always be like this," she replies.
"I didn't know you could be so... perfect," you admit.
She gives an adorable little laugh as she responds, "You haven't seen anything yet."
—
That night was like any other. The bar, lit by neon lights that cast a bluish glow over everything, made the place seem like it was straight out of a dream. The loud music mingled with the bittersweet smell of beer and fried food. You were already on your third round of beers, maybe your fourth.
You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, as the foam from the beer spilled over the sides of the glass you held with both hands. Beside you, Rei, always present, always reliable Rei, laughed at something one of your friends said, but the sound of her laughter felt more like a tapestry woven from nostalgia than a true response to whatever it was.
Your eyes wandered over her face. She was beautiful that night, more than usual.
"Hey, Rei," you called, half-whispering, but loud enough to be heard over the noise around you. She turned her face toward you, her brown eyes shining under the bar's light. "Have you ever noticed that... that I can talk to you about anything?"
She raised an eyebrow, curious. "Of course." Her response was simple, direct, and, in a way, exasperating. Sure, you were friends. But that wasn't what you meant, though the words weren't forming clearly in your mind.
"No, but..." You tried to think, tried to organize your muddled thoughts. "It's more than that. I can talk to you in a way I can't even with... with my girlfriend."
Her expression changed subtly, almost imperceptibly, but you noticed. She bit her lip, a gesture you'd seen before, whenever she was thinking about something she preferred not to say. "You've said that before," she replied softly, as if she were treading on dangerous ground.
"Have I?" You frowned, trying to remember, but your mind was fogged by the drink. "Ah... well, it must be because it's true."
Rei laughed, a short laugh, not very joyful.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" She shook her head, as if she were laughing at an inside joke. You were silent for a moment, trying to understand what she meant, but the alcohol wasn't helping.
"Maybe we have... a connection," you continued, stumbling over the words, "you know, like siblings."
Rei stopped laughing. The smile disappeared, and she looked at you with a seriousness that almost hurt. "It's not that," she said, her voice low, almost inaudible amid the noise around you. "It never was."
You blinked, confused. "It's not? Then... what is it?" You were genuinely puzzled. She had always been there, always by your side, always laughing at your jokes and listening to your rants. And you always thought that was true friendship, something solid and safe.
Rei sighed, and for a moment, you saw something in her eyes you'd never seen before — a kind of sadness mixed with resignation.
"It doesn't matter," she said finally, looking away, as if she could no longer bear to look at you. "Forget it."
You felt uncomfortable, as if you'd failed some test, but you didn't know what to say. Instead, you did what you always did when things got too complicated: you hugged her. It was an awkward, impulsive hug, but you felt her body relax against yours.
"I like you, Rei," you murmured, without thinking. The words slipped out before you could stop them, but it didn't feel wrong to say, "a lot." And suddenly, her arms were around your neck, and you realized, belatedly, how right that felt.
Rei smiled, a smile you couldn't quite interpret. "I like you a lot too."
And then, one of your friends called your name, something about another round of shots, and the moment dissolved. You were dragged back to the table, to the noise and chaos, and Rei sat there, watching as you walked away. When you looked back, she wasn't smiling anymore.
That night, you went home and collapsed into bed. And somehow, you forgot what happened. But Rei didn’t forget. For her, that moment was a line drawn in the sand, a line you had crossed without knowing. But she knew.
And that was what hurt the most.
—
The darkness in the room is thick, punctuated only by the faint glow of the desk lamp. Silence is never absolute, thanks to the soft sound of Rei’s breathing, a constant reminder that you’re no longer alone in this bed, or in any other aspect of your life.
Rei is nestled beside you, her tangled hair splayed across the pillow, a lazy smile stretching across her lips as she snuggles closer.
“We don’t have to sleep in separate rooms anymore, huh?” She lets out a little laugh, and you can sense her satisfaction in finally being able to say that.
You nod passively as the reality of what’s happened settles in your mind.
Rei turns her head to look at you, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Funny, isn’t it?” She begins, and you already know something is coming.
“What’s funny?” you ask, a part of you already knowing that the answer will make you feel like a complete fool.
She sighs, half exasperated, half amused, like she’s about to explain something obvious to a child.
“All those times I tried to get your attention… And you, completely blind.”
You turn to face her, trying to recall anything that might support what she’s saying. Her smile widens, mischievous and teasing.
“Remember that time I asked for a towel while I was in the shower? Just because I wanted you to take a peek?” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “But you? You just tossed the towel through the door and walked away.”
Your mind starts to sift through memories, moments that once seemed innocent, even mundane. You thought she was just forgetful, always leaving the towel behind. It never crossed your mind that it was intentional.
“And those short pajamas I used to wear?” Her voice had a tone of playful satisfaction. “I chose them just to see if you’d notice, if you’d at least look. And what did you do? You covered me with a blanket, worried that I might be cold.” She giggles, but you can feel the sarcasm dripping. “Cold? I wanted you to see me.”
You feel the blush rising up your neck, a mix of embarrassment and… something else. The images flood your mind: the short pajamas, the forgotten towels, and you never understood. You never realized what she was trying to tell you with those signals, and now you feel stupid.
“And when I used to jump on you out of nowhere?” She asks, laughing more vigorously. “Just to see if I could catch you off guard, make you react in some different way. And you? You’d just laugh and push me away.”
You try to speak, but the shame is almost suffocating. “I… I didn’t know,” you mumble, desperately trying to justify yourself. “I thought it was just… I don’t know, playful.”
Rei shakes her head, still smiling under a new layer of affection.
“You were so caught up in that… thing you called a relationship, that you never saw me as a real woman.”
“Rei, I…” you start, but she cuts you off, moving even closer until her nose touches yours.
“I did those things for you, you know? I turned down so many guys because of you, waiting for you to wake up.” She whispers, her voice a mix of sweetness and frustration.
“I’ll try to make it up to you… somehow. I’m sorry, Rei.”
She smiles again, but this time, it’s a different smile, a smile of victory, but also of understanding. She kisses you, a soft kiss, almost marking the end of a chapter that took too long to write.
“Idiot,” she murmurs against your lips, but the tone is affectionate. “You couldn’t have known. But now you do, and you’re not going to stay away from me anymore.”
Rei cuddles up to you, closing her eyes. And as sleep begins to pull you under, you can’t help but have one last thought, one last question: how could it have taken so long?
—
After the relationship finally solidifies, what was once just the ordinary coexistence of roommates, of best friends who share the trivialities of daily life, now transforms into something much deeper, much more intricate. Rei is no longer just the girl you split bills with and share occasional laughs, or the friend who was always there to listen to your complaints about life. She’s your girl now. And that changes everything.
The daily routine, which once seemed dull, now takes on new colors, new textures. The small details, those moments that would have gone unnoticed before, are now enveloped in a layer of raw, unfiltered intimacy. She greets you at home with an almost childlike eagerness, as if you were the sun and she, a plant hungry for light. Every time you walk through the door, there's a kiss, a hug, a heartfelt declaration of how much she missed you, even if it’s only been a few hours since you last saw each other. The way she looks at you... makes you feel like the only man on earth.
And things start heating up in ways you could never have anticipated. It’s a surprise, but one you embrace with every fiber of your being. Suddenly, she’s wearing costumes in bed, playing characters that range from a provocative nurse to a strict teacher. She dives into these roles with evident pleasure, having fun as she teases you, torturing you in ways you never imagined you’d enjoy so much.
Then there are the moments of complete spontaneity, the ones that turn any mundane situation into something memorable. Like that day in the supermarket parking lot, when she pulled you into the car, the engine still warm, the windows fogging up as she gave you a blowjob that wiped your mind clean, erasing any thought that wasn’t about her, about the moment. It’s clandestine, dirty in a way that only heightens the excitement, leaving you in a state of quiet euphoria as you tried not to moan her name right there in the backseat.
Morning sex becomes almost a sacred routine, the most intense and straightforward way to start the day. No words are needed, just the movement of bodies, the heat spreading, and the way she whispers in your ear. It’s primal, vital, as if without it, the rest of the day simply couldn’t happen.
You explore each other as if discovering yourselves for the first time. Every touch, every kiss, every sigh is a new discovery, a new layer of intimacy that you peel away together. You lose yourself in her, and she loses herself in you.
Every day is a new experience, and you let yourself go because, honestly, there’s nothing you want more than to be immersed in this whirlwind of sensations.
And Rei knows no limits when it comes to teasing you. Like that night when you went to a party with your friends. She seemed innocent, almost naive, in the floral dress that covered her down to her knees. But it was all a facade. During the party, she leaned in to whisper things in your ear, dirty things that made your whole body heat up. And in the middle of casual conversation with others, while everyone was distracted, her hand found yours, guiding it under the table to the part of her that was already wet with anticipation. She whispered for you to stay calm, not to give away what was happening, while she made you desperately wish the night would end soon.
Another time, during an innocent walk in the park, the sun shining, birds singing, the appearance of a perfect, harmless day. Rei, with that look like she wasn’t planning anything serious, led you to a more secluded spot, among the trees, away from curious eyes. "I was thinking," she began, with a gleam in her eyes that you’d learned to recognize, "I wonder if anyone’s ever done it here?" And before you could respond or even process what was happening, she was already on her knees in the grass, unbuttoning your pants.
There are also those moments when she surprises you in the middle of the night. You sleep deeply, your body exhausted from just another day, and are awakened by her soft touch, a caress that starts slow, exploring every inch of your skin, as if she wanted to memorize every detail. She has diabolical patience, letting the desire build inside you until you can no longer pretend to be asleep. And when you finally give in, when your eyes open and meet hers, she’s already watching you with a smile that promises the kind of pleasure that borders on sinful.
Another adventure she created was during a visit to your parents' house. You were there for a Sunday lunch, everyone was in the living room, talking and laughing. Rei, always cheerful and playful, behaved like the perfect girl to introduce to your family. But only you knew what was really going on. During lunch, she would gently rub her foot against your leg under the table, a constant tease that amused her.
"Hey, are you okay? You seem a bit... uncomfortable," she asked, feigning innocence, while her eyes said exactly what she was doing.
After lunch, she pulled you to a corner of the house where no one could see. "I think we need a bit of fresh air," she said, leading you to the garden. But instead of admiring the flowers, she pressed you against the brick wall of the house, her hands already unbuttoning your pants. “Let me ease your mind a little," she whispered before kneeling in the grass, and all you could do was hold onto the wall to keep from falling as she did things with her mouth that made you completely forget where you were.
You couldn’t be more satisfied to be the focus of all this seductive energy she has. And perhaps what surprises you most is how much it completes you. There’s no fear here, no doubts. Just the certainty that, finally, you’ve found what you were looking for. Someone who sees you, who cares about you, who shakes up your routine, who wants you, exactly as you are.
And that, yes, is the greatest achievement of all.
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blondes do it better || joe burrow x reader
description: a little morning moment before the first day of training camp
a/n: look at me writing a bleach buzz joe fic LMAO. this is a little something i wrote for you all (very unplanned) inspired by today’s content and with some help from my anons and @joeys-babe! enjoy!
word count: 3.9k
warnings: language, smut (a little BJ moment, nothing crazy)
--------------------------------
July 24th, 2024
Sunlight slowly peeked through the curtains of your bedroom as you looked over at the alarm clock, the time reading 5:30 AM. Normally, you wouldn’t be up this early in the morning but considering today was the first day of Bengals Training Camp, you wanted to squeeze in some 1 on 1 time with Joe before he had to get up and leave. His alarm would go off in about half an hour, so you were determined to get in all your cuddles and kisses that you’d miss the entire day. It was amazing having Joe around more this first half of the year, even though the reason for it wasn’t particularly good.
You both made the most of the extended time you had together with various trips and vacations (joe finally getting a proper tan this year because of how much sun you both had been absorbing) and joining Joe on his new ventures such as Paris Fashion Week & speaking at events in Cannes, but now you both were ready for things to go back to normal. It was a nice few months of taking it easy and enjoying life a little more but normal for you both was football. It had been your normal since high school and you missed it.
You looked over at Joe, watching his steady breathing and listening to his soft snores for a few moments before he started to move around; his natural body clock probably began waking him up before his alarm as usual.
You moved your covers down and gently moved on top of Joe, placing one leg on either side of his hips as you moved your hair out of your face. You leaned down and started pressing lazy kisses along his jawline before you felt two hands grab your waist and pull you back up.
“My favorite way of being woken up,” he said, giving you a sleepy smile.
“Morning, Quarterback,” you said as you rubbed the skin under his eyes.
“Morning, Y/N,” he mumbled, his sleepiness evident by his tone. “Any particular reason why you woke me up half an hour before my alarm?” he said, his eyebrow shooting up out of suspicion.
“Well, today’s the first day of camp and I won’t really get to see you a lot these next few days since you’re going to be locked in,” you said, your smile dropping. “I just wanted some ‘us’ time before you left,”.’
“Aw, is someone going to miss me,” Joe teased as he ran his hands up and down your sides.
Joe was expecting you to reply with some witty response, but all he got from you was silence and the image of your eyes getting glossy.
“Hey, Hey. I’m just joking,” he said as his tone switched to concern.
“No, I know,” you said as you dropped your shoulders. “I don’t know why I’m being a baby about this since I practically shoved you out the door on the first day of OTA’s,” you laughed, your smile coming back at the memory.
“OTA’s were the tip of the iceberg to be fair. Training Camp, then Pre-Season, and before you know it you’re out on the field week 1,” he sighed. “Really gotta focus now,”.
“It all happens so fast,” you nodded. “But that’s good since we thrive when there’s football consistently in our lives,”.
“Are you excited though?” you asked as you rubbed his chest with your palms.
“Absolutely. I feel really good and I can’t wait to see how it translates to the field. And I’m really looking forward to working with the younger guys,” he said.
“I just know they’re going to be so excited to get out there with you. You’ve always made everyone feel welcomed and seen, even in high school you did the same,” you smiled.
Joe bit his lip and said, “I still can’t believe you’re not sick of this life. I mean you’ve been a football player’s girlfriend since high school and have dealt with so much shit over the years,”.
“I have no idea how or why you do it,” he said as he shook his head. Joe knew how much his life affected yours and he oftentimes felt bad with how much stuff you’ve had to deal with since you were teenagers. Even though he physically couldn’t live without you, he sometimes thought that you’d be better off without him for your own sake as your life would be drama-free with him out of the picture.
Since you and Joe had been together since High School, you had quite literally been a part of his football journey since Day 1. As his popularity increased once he came into the NFL, the amount of things you dealt with increased too. Before the only football-related concerns you had were if Joe had eaten something after practice, did his homework, or studied for his tests so that he wouldn’t fall behind in school, and that your Friday nights were cleared so you could sit in the bleachers and watch him play.
Now your football-related concerns were making sure Joe wasn’t pushing himself too hard at the risk of injury, making sure that he wasn’t hurt (even a bruise or bump) after a game, dealing with a plethora of comments and negativity about Joe (sometimes even yourself), and making sure that everything was good at home since that was the only place he could relax. It was a lot for you to deal with, mentally and physically, and sometimes you even wondered if it was all worth it. Football life was like a rollercoaster, really high moments that made everything so much more exciting and really low moments that made you feel like you hit a brick wall.
But when you looked at Joe, you remembered why you did it and what all this was truly worth. It was worth it because you had the best possible person by your side and you two had built a life together which was a little chaotic, but incredibly fulfilling and filled with a kind of love you couldn’t put into words. You wouldn’t trade anything for this, no matter how rough it got. You’d never give this up.
“You,” you smiled. “You’re the reason I do it. Because you are the single most important person in my life and I love you,” you add as you lean down to kiss him, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek as he melts against your soft lips.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he grinned as he pulled away from your lips.
“And you won’t have to know since I’m not going anywhere,” you smiled as you moved your left hand to his view, showing off the very beautiful and very new engagement ring he put on your ring finger.
“I love you,” he said as he pecked your lips a few times.
You smiled against his lips before coming back up, one of his hands settling on your hips again while the other moved to the top of his head, a laugh escaping your lips as you watched him attempt to run his fingers through his hair.
“What are you laughing at?” he asked with a little laugh.
“Your hair,” you laughed, this time even harder as you had a funny thought pop up in your head. “I still cannot believe you did that,”.
Flashback to a few days ago
You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your favorite shopping app as you were doing some retail therapy to brighten your mood after having an awful migraine earlier, and were waiting for Joe to get home after his routine hair trim.
You heard the garage door open, not bothering to turn around since you knew it was Joe. You listened to him move around the kitchen, probably trying to see what was for dinner before you heard his footsteps getting closer to the couch.
You put your iPad to the side, closed your eyes, and tilted your head up, anticipating a kiss from Joe.
“Hey,” he said, bending over against the back of the couch to kiss you.
“Hi,” you smiled, your eyes still closed as you were anticipating one more kiss, which you anticipated correctly. You then opened your eyes, expecting to be met with a freshly trimmed Joe, but instead, your eyes widened and your mouth fell open.
“AHH!” you screamed as you jumped off the couch, your blanket flying off your body at your jumbled movement.
“What?” Joe asked, his eyes widening and feeling incredibly confused.
“Your HAIR,” you screamed as you ran back over to the couch, kneeling on it and grabbing his head. “What the fuck happened to your hair,” you said as you brushed your hands over the spikey buzzcut that was bleached platinum blonde.
“Surprise,” he laughed as he grabbed your wrists and lowered them. “You like it? I got bored and felt like changing it up,”.
“Changing it up is getting a different kind of fade on the sides or something. Your hair is gone,” you laughed in amusement, your brain not registering the fact that his hair was practically gone and whatever was left was the color of a snowball. “And you didn’t even tell me,” you scoffed.
“Gotta keep everyone on their toes. Even my beautiful fiancee,” he winked. “Besides, it feels kind of symbolic in a way? Like letting go of everything that happened last season and turning a new page,”.
“See that’s the reasoning I can get behind, not the ‘I was Bored’ excuse,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“But do you like it?” he asked again.
You looked at him carefully for a few seconds, assessing the new look he had. Well, it wasn’t all new. “I’m getting major deja vu right now from the blonde even though this is a bit more platinum than high school,” recalling his original blonde look during your high school days.
“Yeah?” he laughed.
“Blondes definitely do it better from what I can recall from our adolescence,” you winked, remembering all those times you’d sneak away with Joe for a quick moment before he had practice or after a game. Even back then you couldn’t contain yourself around each other, just one flash of those signature bedroom eyes and you were both sneaking back to his car.
“God, do you remember all those times we’d sneak away during practice? I’m surprised we never got caught,” he laughed.
“That blonde hair woke something up inside of me,” you sighed. “I remember coming home after one of the games with a limp and my parents thought I fell or something,” you said as you covered your face with your hands to hide the embarrassment.
“Damn, we really haven’t changed since high school have we?” he said, biting his lip.
“Not one bit,” you shook your head. “I do like that you’re channeling some of that Athens luck for this season since you dyed it when we won the district championship. This is def a manifestation tactic,” you said as you cupped his face and turned his head to the side to get a good look at the hair again.
“Keep talking,” he said as he leaned in more, a sheepish grin on his face.
“The buzzcut may take a bit of getting used to,” you say as he nods in agreement.
“The blonde does help make it not look super ‘fresh out of jail-y’ though,” you chuckle as you watch him eagerly waiting for your opinion, an adorable smile on his face as he looks at you with all the love in the world.
“But, I will say,” you say as you give him a slow once-over, the increased muscle on his body, his tan skin, and now this bleached buzzcut which you were honestly loving, was making him even hotter than he was ever before which you thought was impossible. “You still look as hot as ever and I would still drop to my knees at any given moment,” you said, leaning in even closer so that you were just inches from his lips.
“Really?” he smirked.
“Mhmmm. Welcome back Slim Shady, I’ve missed you,” you said as you felt Joe reach out and grab you, easily throwing you over his shoulders.
“Joe,” you laughed, not even a single bit surprised since he manhandled you like this quite often. “Put me downnnn,”.
“Nope,” he said as he walked over to the stairs leading upstairs. “We gotta make sure that blondes still do it better. The last time I was blonde was over 5 years ago,” he said as he patted your ass.
“And what if they don’t?” you grin. “You gonna wash it out?”.
“Hmm, I think I’ll try Orange hair if that’s the case,” he joked while he walked up the stairs with you hanging off his shoulder. “It fits the team aesthetic too and gingers are known to be wild and crazy. One can only imagine how that translates to the bedroom”.
Your mouth fell open, “Um, absolutely not!” you yelled as he walked into the bedroom, his laughter filling the room as you went on about how you forbid him from doing anything else to his hair as it was sad enough that you couldn’t pull on the strands or twirl your fingers through them during the activity that was about to happen once he laid you down on the bed.
End of Flashback
“You look like an egg,” you added as you continued to laugh at him, his smile turning into a grimace.
“An egg? Wow,” he scoffed as he pretended to be offended by the comment.
“A very hot, sexy, delicious egg,” you said as you leaned down again and started pressing kisses to his neck, his frown slowly turning back into a smile as you showered him with kisses, unknowingly grinding against his crotch while you were at it and you didn’t notice until you felt him grip your waist tighter and a hardness prodding underneath you.
You immediately pulled away, trying to prevent that from happening because you knew that today was a big day for him and this was not the way to start it off.
“Y/N, come on,” he sighed. “A quickie won’t hurt,”.
“Absolutely not. It’s the first day of camp, I can’t send you out there already tired and slightly worked out,” you said as you crossed your arms.
“Please,” he pleaded with that adorable pout that always made you cave. “You can be on top,”.
“Nope,” you shook your head. “You always say that I can do all the work but you end up doing most of it anyway,”.
“I won’t this time, I swear,” he blinked.
You bit your lip as you thought about it for a few moments. You felt bad about leaving him hanging but you also didn’t want to make him use his energy on this when he could be using it on the field.
You took a deep breath and said, “Okay, we can compromise,”.
“I’m listening,” he said as he moved his hands to your thighs.
“I’ll give you some super sloppy world-class head and then we can finish this after practice if you’re not too tired,” you offered.
He stared into your beautiful eyes for a few seconds before smiling, “Deal,”.
You immediately leaned down and captured his lips in a messy kiss before moving down his body, kissing his chest through his t-shirt as you got a glimpse of the clock, noticing that you didn’t have a lot of time before his alarm went off.
“Shit, gotta make this quick,” you mumbled as you moved further down his body.
You quickly pulled his shorts down and then his boxers, allowing his erect cock to spring out, precum pooling at the tip. You grabbed his erection, giving him a few pumps before sliding your tongue down the side, Joe’s hips jerking at the contact.
“Settle down,” you softly reminded him as you looked up.
Your lips parted around his cock as you slowly twirled your tongue around the tip, moving down the length of his shaft inch by inch. You heard Joe groan before feeling his hand on the back of your head, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair as he struggled to hold in his moans.
“F-Fuck,” he moaned as you slid all the way down, his tip hitting the back of your throat which made you shudder.
You then released him from your mouth, pumping his cock a few more times before leaning down again, sucking and licking your way down his shaft. You began to bob your head up and down his length, sounds of pleasure leaving his lips as you started to send him to heaven.
“Jesus, Baby, You feel so good,” he groaned as he gently pushed your head further down. You wrapped one of your hands around him, jerking him off with your hand as you continued to suck him off, your eyes watering at the pressure you were feeling but also the pleasure.
You looked up at him, making direct eye contact as you continued to suck him off which you knew drove him crazy. You watched as he threw his head back against the pillow as a result of your fingers gently playing with his balls, his grip on your hair getting tighter as the sounds coming from his lips got louder. You could tell that he was inching closer to his release by the way his cock was twitching in your mouth.
“Fuck,” he moaned as he jerked his hips again, which made you stop.
“Baby, please,” he panted as he watched you come back up.
“Stop moving your hips so much,” you laughed you went back to pumping his cock with your hand, once again leaning down and twirling your tongue around the head before taking him in your mouth, this time setting a hungry pace as you knew he was close. Your manicured nails dug into his thighs as you tried to keep yourself together, the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat sending you to the point of tears.
A few moments later, you felt him twitch inside your mouth again, this time feeling hot spurts of his cum fill your mouth as you slowed down your movements, whimpers and moans leaving Joe’s lips as you looked up and watched his heaving chest, and closed eyes.
“Y/N..” he whispered.
You released him from your mouth, swallowing every last bit of his cum and lapping at his dick to make sure you did, before moving off of him and pulling his boxers and shorts back up. You wiped your chin and mouth with the back of your hand before lying back down next to him, pressing a few gentle kisses to his cheek as he came down from his high.
“Better now?” you asked him when he turned his head to meet your eyes.
“You’re the best,” he said, giving you a lazy smile. “I feel bad for leaving you hanging though,”.
“It’s okay,” you sighed. “I can have some solo fun with the shower head when you’re gone,” you teased, his mouth dropping at the words you just said.
“Kiddinggg,” you laughed as you stuffed your head into the crook of his neck. “I’ll wait for you to come back; if you’re not too tired obviously,”.
He moved his hand to the back of your head, playing with your hair before gently sliding it down to your neck as he pressed a few kisses to your forehead. “I’ll make sure to save some energy for you,”.
“Thanks, Slim Shiesty,” you teased.
“W- What did you just call me?” Joe asked as he pulled your head from his neck.
“Slim Shiesty,” you smiled. “It’s only fitting after you did this,” you chuckled as you rubbed the top of his blonde head.
“I forgot how many Eminem references I’ll be getting from now on,” he whined.
“I cannot wait to see the internet write think pieces about your new hair,” you giggled.
“God, and I forgot that I owe the entire world an explanation for every move I make,” he groaned.
“Just tell them what you told me,” you smiled. “You needed a fresh start and you got bored,”.
“They’re still going to be writing think pieces even if I say that,” he said, pursing his lips.
“You’re right,” you agreed. “Then tell them you did it because your fiancee said blondes do it better and that you wanted to please me,” you joked.
“You know, I just might,” he laughed.
“This time I won’t even mind getting hate comments from some of your fans. Blonde Buzz Burrow is def something else and I’m going to enjoy every single moment I have with him even if some girls on the internet say they hate it,” you said before you leaned in for another kiss.
“The only opinion I care about is yours,” he said before pecking your soft lips again.
“And I love it, even if you sometimes look like an egg or a snowball,” you teased. “You’re still the same panty-dropping, sex-on-legs, gorgeous man that I fell in love with when I was 16,”.
“I love you,” he grinned again before closing in on your lips for another kiss, his hand cupping your jaw as you threw your leg over his and moved closer to him, only for the sound of his alarm to interrupt you both.
He pulled away and turned it off, a sigh leaving his lips as he knew he had to get up. “As much as I’d love to keep this going..”.
“I know, I know. Football time,” you grinned as you sat up, Joe doing the same while he rubbed his eyes. “Before you get up to shower, I wanted to tell you something,” you said to him, grabbing his hand and entwining your fingers.
“What?” he asked you.
“I wanted to tell you that I am so beyond proud of how far you’ve come since last November. We knew this wasn’t going to be easy and definitely wasn’t going to be enjoyable, but you really pushed through even though everything was stacked against you. Not many people are capable of doing all of this while the entire world is practically screaming ‘you suck and are overrated’ in their faces and the fact that you recovered from the wrist injury so well and are on track to coming out the other side better than how you went in is insane. And the fact that while recovering you did all this new stuff like fashion week which you'd never thought you'd ever do before is crazy and you killed that too even though it's not your thing. You truly are one of a kind,” you said to him. "Oh my god, and this," you said as you picked up your left hand and motioned at the ring. "You knew that I didn't care when this happened but the fact that you did this whole thing at the same time while dealing with all this shit should be enough to hand you the MVP award,".
“You always kill anything and everything you put your mind to. Whether it be football, your career outside of football, or our relationship, you always do so good at everything. I can’t wait to see you tear it up out there and start the next chapter of your story,” you added.
Joe’s heart fluttered at your feelings; a big part of why he was able to push through was you. You were like a storm shelter for him in the hurricane that was his life. You kept him comfortable, and safe from his own negative thoughts and made sure that he didn’t drown.
He pulls you in for a hug, stuffing his face in your neck as you can feel his rapid heartbeat against your chest. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything on this earth,” he said in your ear. “Thank you for sticking by my side,”.
“I love you too, forever and always,” you said as held onto him for a few heartbeats, not wanting to let go, but eventually doing so since he couldn’t be late.
“Now, go knock ‘em dead and give them something to talk about Slim Shiesty,” you smiled as you pulled away.
“You got it,” he kissed your cheek and got up from the bed, a bounce in his step as he walked into the bathroom.
“Blondes may do it better, but he does everything better regardless,” you smile to yourself.
–The End–
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Traditions
Carlos Sainz Jr x Fem!Reader
Warnings: loose version of spanish new years traditions (might not be accurate, I googled lol), carlos has wandering hands, red underwear means good luck, dirty texts, carlos sr is over his son and his nonsense, you and carlos are on grape prep, kitchen sex, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), hair pulling, 'whore' used in a sexual context, cumplay sorta, ana is over you two as well, midnight kisses.
Word Count: 1,839
Author's Note: sorry for the late upload, it's been a hectic day!
merry smutmas series
--
Coming back from Christmas with your family, the two of you return to Spain to celebrate new years with his family and all their traditions.
The holidays were a big thing for the Sainz family, both Christmas and New Year's warranted a big party.
It's 8pm on New Year's Eve and you were getting ready for the party that would be starting in an hour. You're in your boyfriend, Carlos's bedroom, sitting at the vanity doing your makeup when he got out of the shower.
You can see Carlos's reflection in the mirror, the white, fluffy towel hanging off of his waist to the beads of water still dripping down his bare chest. "I can feel you staring." He says, walking over to you.
Rolling your eyes, you speak. "Admiring, not staring. I have manners, unlike someone." You teased, watching as his arms snake around you, hands pulling on the bow that kept your robe shut.
"Behave," you scolded him, swatting his hands away. Carlos ignored you. "You look beautiful, mi amor." He whispers in your ear, your cheeks now red and the same colour as your bra that was peeking out.
Seems Carlos noticed the same thing, undoing your robe to confirm what he saw.
"What's this?" He asks, admiring the red lace you were wrapped up in. He seemed a bit confused to see you in the red set, knowing that it was something that you kept solely for when he got good race results.
Your brows furrow, "do you not know? Your sisters say that red underwear brings good luck."
"You don't really believe that," he chuckled, walking off to get dressed. You roll your eyes, "as if you don't. Your mom told me about your Ferrari contract and the red boxers that you keep for special occasions."
Carlos peeks out from his closet, "she told you that ?"
"Of course, do you think we sit in silence when we have lunch?" You laughed, taking the curlers out of your hair.
At some point after that, you two ventured down to the party.
Things were well underway, Carlos's parents entertaining, his sisters with their husbands dancing around with a few friends.
Carlos had separated from you to talk about his racing season with a few of his cousins who had arrived to the party late while you were pulled into a conversation with his father and his colleagues. Your father in law liked to show you off, his arm over your shoulder as he tells all his friends that you were like another daughter to him.
Your phone buzzed in your hand, glancing at it to see who had texted you.
It was your boyfriend, the same man who had been making heart eyes at you all night long.
From Carlos: meet me in my room.
You rolled your eyes, knowing what he wanted but you shot him a quick reply anyways.
To Carlos: what for? can you not see that I'm busy ?
From Carlos: a quickie, what else? I can't take my eyes off of you.
You snorted a laugh, he was ridiculous; he acted like a horny teenager around you, despite the fact that he was 30.
Carlos Sr seemed to notice your little laugh, glancing over at you. "Que pasa cariño?" (what happened dear?)
You decided to give Carlos a mini heart attack, knowing he's looking at you right now. You show your phone to his father, his dad rolling his eyes at his son's behaviour, giving him a disapproving look from across the room.
Carlos Sr takes your phone from you, texting something you don't see until he passes the phone back to you.
To Carlos: ella está ocupada ahora mismo. (she's busy right now.)
Your lips pressed together, biting back a laugh as your father in law led you to the dance floor, his hand in yours as he spun you around. You indulged the man, dancing with him for a bit before passing him over to Blanca for the rest of the song.
Reyes finds you shortly after, her hand in yours as she drags you to Carlos, also grabbing her son by the wrist. The two of you exchanged a glance, a bit confused as to what was going on and unsure if you were in trouble for something. The woman takes you two into the kitchen, there are little bowls lined up on trays as well as 4 massive basins of grapes.
"I forgot to ask the catering staff to put these together, they've left for the evening. Can you two do it?"
Carlos nods, "of course, no problem."
They had a tradition, 12 grapes at midnight was a symbol of the upcoming 12 months and would bring you good luck.
You and Carlos were left to sort out the grapes, putting twelve of them into each bowl; you started lining up the bowls while Carlos was washing the grapes off in the sink.
The two of you split it up, as he dried them and put them back into the basin, you sorted and dropped the 12 grapes into the small bowls.
You were on the last set, Carlos was moving the ones that were done to the table by the door so it'd be easier for the guests to grab.
The man comes up behind you, arms around your waist, lips on your neck. His stubble poking at your skin, kissing it softly. You rolled your eyes.
"What do you want?"
"I can't give my girlfriend a kiss?"
"No," you scoffed, "a kiss is never a kiss with you."
Case in point; Carlos's hands wandered down from your waist to your hips.
"Carlos," you mumble, feeling his fingers meet your bare skin, the hem of your dress moving higher and higher with each passing second. "Don't," you warn him, the man ignoring you.
The grapes long forgotten, your hands gripping at the counter as you feel your boyfriend drop down onto his knees behind you, a trail of sloppy kisses on the back of your thighs.
“Carlos,” you call, “we shouldn't.”
“Don’t you want to?” He asks, fingers dancing along your skin. You let out a breath when you feel his lips on your thigh, soft kisses being peppered across the surface. “Of course I do.” You whispered.
“Then shut up,” he smiles, his head disappearing under the dress.
Your head falls forward against your arms when you feel his tongue on you, he’s yet to move your panties and you're already a mess.
He finally does, smiling to himself when he notices that it’s also red; matching the bra he saw peeking out the top of your robe earlier. “Fuck-” you breathe, fingers still gripping at the marble counters.
He looked up, fixed on you; your hair tossed in every direction and your head tipped back. He can see the necklace you have on, the 55 pendant hanging from it, the same pendant and necklace he gifted you all those years ago for your first Christmas together.
The man gets up, kissing you when he does. You can taste yourself on his lips, Carlos turns you to face him properly and pushes you back against the counter once again, your hand slipping between the two of you as you undo his pants. He pulls your leg to hitch on his hip, your panties already pulled to the side and your dress rolled up at your hips.
Please don’t let there be wrinkles you think, the thought being cut off when Carlos pushes into you. His lips find yours, muffling your moans as he fucks you. Your nails dig into his bicep, his shirt sleeve definitely wrinkled.
“Hold on,” he tells you, pulling out and you whimper at the loss of the fullness. Carlos turns you around and you get what he’s doing, letting you feel a bit more comfortable.
Soon enough, you’re bent over the counter, the last row of grapes discarded off to the side.
His hand is placed on your hip, holding you in place as he pushes into you, picking up the pace again. Your head drops down onto your arms and he didn’t like that. He pulls you up by your hair, your back arches and his arm wrapped around your middle, holding you up.
“You don’t want everyone to hear what a whore you are, do you?” He asks you, his lips against your ear.
You shook your head, knowing if you speak, you’d just be rambling incoherently. “Gonna cum for me, aren't you ? You’re my good girl.” He says.
He feels you clench around him and his hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again. “Oh my god,” your hips bucked, Carlos' fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of him.
“C’mon amor, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more.
He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body. A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge.
He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making.
Without warning, Carlos pulls out of you and pulls you off the counter. You were confused as to what was happening, still in a post orgasm daze.
The man has you on your knees, looking up at him.
The dots connect the moment his cock’s pressed to your tongue and he watches as you circle your tongue around the tip.
“Fuck,” he leans back against the counter, pushing your head down to take all of him in your mouth. His eyes are fixed on you, hand tangled in your hair as you take all of him in your mouth.
The sight alone was enough to get him to cum and it did.
You look up at him through your lashes as swallow.
His hand finds your chin, leaning down to kiss you. “Good girl,” he mumbles against your lips.
It takes you two a moment to re-situate yourselves, fixing your clothes and hair. You had Carlos wipe the counters down while you washed your hands rather thoroughly before finishing up on the grapes.
There's a knock on the wall, Ana peeking into the kitchen. "Mama wanted to know if you two got lost in here." She joked.
Carlos shook his head, "we were just talking."
Ana eyes your smudged lipstick and her brother's messy hair. "Hm, okay. Help me bring out the grapes?" She asks and you push past Carlos, ignoring his smirk as you helped her carry out the trays and pass out the grapes.
Shortly after, you find Carlos in a corner. You passed him a bowl of grapes and kept the other for yourself as you sat on his lap. One by one, you ate them until all 12 were gone.
The clock struck 12, the fireworks popping outside. "Happy new years, mi amor." Carlos whispered to you, kissing you softly.
Your thumb brushed over his cheek, "happy new years Carlos."
---
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yea tattoo artist choso but .. what abt tattoo artist geto
congrats on 1k btw!
eee thank youuuu 🙈🙈 i’m souuurrr happy you requested geto bc i’ve been wanting to write abt other characters. AND THISS got out of hand lollll ( 1.5k ) idk what came over me i just word vomited all over my phone… & it’s unedited
— tattooartist!geto x reader // mentions of smoking, m masterbation, fleshlight, cum eating, kinda pervy geto idk he tells reader to take her shirt off when she doesn’t need to so, nipple play, v in p, mentions of overstim, creampiee
suguru geto is one of the most, if not the most popular tattoo artists in your area— hell, probably even farther than that. just to book an appointment, there’s a waitlist not including the months and months he’s already booked for. so when you finally get that confirmation email after waiting for what felt like years, you physically jump up, rushing to get ready and go to the parlor
“i don’t have anyone today under that name, sorry”
suguru pushes a strand of silk black hair behind his pierced ears, the dragon tattoo on his hand moving as he does so almost like it’s taunting you.
“what? i got an email today i just-” your hand reaches into your purse slacked over your shoulder to pull out your phone and prove your appointment was today, but when you go back to check, heat spreads across your cheeks faster than ever.
the date said next month
“ya had the right day i’ll give you that” and he’s laughing. not at you but because you’re cute, he thinks. pouting, growing hot from embarrassment. “i’ll tell you what..”
he leans in and you can smell the smoke that lingers on his breath mixing like some sort of love potion with his musky cologne, his pierced eyebrow quirking, browned eyes staring into yours with puffy lips wet from licking, “i can squeeze you in tomorrow. was supposed to have an off day but ill help a pretty girl like you out, how’s that sound?”
and you’ve never nodded faster. smile pulling at your glossed lips, drawing his to get trapped underneath his teeth.
“here i’ll give you my number, i’ll text you the time ‘n stuff later”
with that, you leave his parlor, your number scribbled on the back of some old receipt next to your name and a heart.
geto’s no better than a man. no better. he goes home that night and texts you as soon as he’s tucked into bed.
hey this is suguru btw.
your phone vibrates on your nightstand, and you smile at the notification. it almost felt unreal, someone who felt so unreachable, someone like geto in your phone, texting you first.
hey!
he catches himself smiling at the message too, his mind trailing back to seeing your pretty face when you walked into the parlor. the way you looked around doe-eyed like a little deer in headlights. looked innocent, and he liked that. maybe a little too much, his dick twitching against the fabric of his boxers.
he only talked to you for a few minutes. barely even held a conversation, but god did you look good. can’t blame him for getting like this.
what time is good for you? like i said, im supposed to be off but had no plans so any time is fine.
your thumbs dance across your keyboard as you think of what to say in response. you’re nervous. and if you knew he was jerking his cock, you’d be even more. his hand slowly .. very slowly rubbing his leaky tip, his head full, overflowing and bubbling with thoughts of you. what are you doing right now? are you in bed too? squeezing his warm balls, cupping them, teasing himself, imagining it’s your sweet little hands.
is 6 pm okay?
the little buzz drags him from his thoughts.
yea. see you then, pretty.
the simple little pet name makes you feel like you’re going to explode. so warm all over your body, and you wish you could just time travel to the next day and see him already.
geto brings the palm of his large hand to his face, lolling his tongue out to lick long stripes on it, shivering at the feeling of his own piercing before wrapping around the base of his thick cock, stroking himself only two times. this won’t do.
he reached for the pocket pussy he keeps nested deep in his drawer. leaning over to let spit fall and dribble into the clear toy before rubbing it on his tip.
groaning, “shiiiiittt” his hips bucking up as he slowly lets it sink down— body twitching at the feeling of all the little bumps and ridges massaging his sensitive cock.
“fu- fuck juuuust like that, mhhhm”
imagining he’s inside your tight little walls, squishing him like he’s meant for you, snug and tight like a puzzle piece.
his chest heaved with every snap of his wrist, spit sinking out and ringing out the base of his cock leaking down to his heavy balls, “feel so fucking good baby”
so fast he’s already shooting into the toy, whining because it’s not you. wishing it was you, your warm walls probably feel so much better. probably sound so cute taking him from behind or from the front, your eyes locked onto his.
he came so much it’s leaking all over himself. so messy and dirty and he brings the toy up and licks it all out, shoving his tongue inside the rubbery walls to flick and clean it up.
“shit”
the next day came too slowly. to you but especially to suguru. he went to the parlor an hour earlier to open and tidy up, pulling his raven locs into a ponytail, letting a few stray strands fall and frame his face, counting each and every second.
and then he hears it. the little ding as the door opens, you push it open smiling up at him as you walk through and you look even better than he remembered. and he’s trying so hard to keep his composure.
he nods at you, giving you a small smile, “so what did you want to get, and where?”
at your reply he freezes, his hands almost crumbling up the paperwork he reached for you to fill out — “my chest”
“your chest?”
he parrots you. then he repeats it in his head a few more times. picturing you pull your little top up.
he can tell you’re not wearing a bra with how your nipples perk up and poke through the flimsy, almost see-through fabric.
you nod your head, mhm sounding and bubbling past your lips.
god, you’re going to be the death of him.
after you finish with all the paperwork, he pulls you into the back making small talk asking about your day. and you indulge, asking back, finding comfort in the normality of your conversation. he’s different from what people painted him out to be and you felt relaxed in his presence.
even more when he offers you a seat, cleaning it off before slipping on some black gloves. his hands almost bulge out, his knuckles poking through the latex.
“can i see the design?”
you pull up the picture on your phone and he hums, “and you said your chest, right?”
again he repeats it, almost as if it’s a mantra he’s using to calm his nerves. calm his dick.
you just nod, “do i need to take my shirt off?”
and well no you don’t, not yet at least, but he says yes, reaching forward to do it for you because he’s just so sweet, right? so nice and caring, and welcoming.
and he only wraps his lips around your tits to soothe you, right? sucking, letting his teeth sink into the buds, the silver ball tracing over them. his other glove-clad hand cupping them.
sinks his cock into you just cause he wants to take care of you, right? he could tell you wanted it soo bad. your thighs pressing together so tightly when he pressed his lips against your chest with a soft, “suguru please”
“mhm let me take care of you, pretty girl, spread em, hold yourself open f’me— uh huh, juuust like that.”
your little arms shake and tremble, hooking around the back of your knees as he pushes into your tight cunt. and fuck, he was right. feels so much better than his toy.
“fuuuckk found your spot, baby, ‘s right there? yeah feel good right there?” he rolls his hips up, brushing against that spot, his thick tip kissing it, making your body twitch.
“yes— fuck yes feels so good”
right about you sounding so fucking good too— his cock twitching inside the solitude of your pretty slimy walls. shivering at how you suck and milk him so well, so tight and warm. so fucking warm. feels so good he’s already close, but he wants to keep making you feel good, keep hearing you, and if he was to fuck his cum into you, overstimulating his needy cock to do that, then so be it.
“inside” you whine out at how he twitches, his stokes sputtering and faltering as he languidly pushing into your sopping pussy, leaking all over him, so wet.
“ohh — fuck ohfuck” and it pushes him over the edge, bottoming out to overfill you, make you nice and creamy ‘cause you deserve it. deserve it for being so good, making him feel so good.
letting his head fall onto your shoulder sweat sprinkling his forehead as he empties himself for you. for your pretty pussy, all for you.
#ᝰ.ᐟ — so’s diary#geto suguru#jjk suguru#jjk geto#geto x reader#geto smut#geto x you#geto x y/n#jjk x reader smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Magnetic
“You wouldn’t look at me.”
“I saw plenty.”
“In my eyes.”
“…Does it matter?”
~
summary:
Bakugo Katsuki, No. 3 Hero in the charts, massive amounts of tan girls, always invited to galas, events, and even award shows along side his peers, but he has never once gotten a dating scandal in his whole career. Has never even looked in a woman's direction. So you can be certain he won't change his actions when artist Y/N is invited to sing at a private Christmas Gala hosted for hero's to celebrate the season and a year well done of duties...right?
Singer, artist, model Y/N, has it all. Looks, wealth, awards, friends, family, and boyfriends.. her music revolves around her relationships and past relationships along with her mental health that she speaks about through her music. She gets asked to gigs almost every day but few are lucky to book her, when her team gets a request for the Christmas Hero Gala which is highly exclusive, she immediately agrees to entertaining the hero's, excited for the night she doesn't realize she caught a certain man's attention in the back of the crowd..
• slow burn - secret pining - romance - bold Y/N, shy Katsuki - vice versa - celebrity!y/n x aged up!katsuki
• following contains, eventual smut, mentions of suicide, alcohol, mental illness, heavy party scenes and probably more !
• 18+ only!! this is your warning
• the rest of the celebrities mentioned in this series i do not take credit for, and the songs mentioned all writing ownership belongs to them! i do not take credit except for this fan fiction!
!! just a friendly reminder this is all fake, simply my imagination placed into writing !!
Chapter one
intro
After Kirishima left Katsuki alone in his hotel, Katsuki much to his dismay went through a whole social media dive on Y/N. Research, is what he told himself when he scrolled through her Instagram. Photo dumps from her and her friends, including a few actors Katsuki was familiar with, a picture of her dog, Bell, a candid photo of her in the studio, headphones placed on her head.. 'She's pretty' he thought but quickly brushed it away.
Yeah, Katsuki was extremely private when it came to his love life, so what? Was that a crime? Not at all, he had a disgust for the media and he sure as hell didn't want strangers all up in his personal life, it's how he has always been even from his UA days.
All of a sudden his phone started blowing up from the group chat he had with his friends. Kirishima sent a video from some Hollywood website, headlined "Y/N seen getting off at an airport in Japan". the video showed Y/N in a baseball cap wearing all black and a few bodyguards surrounding her, screams were blasting from his phone, flashes bouncing off her as she walked keeping her head down.
"For fucks sake.." Katuski scowled at the video, where's the humanity in following someone around? God he hated paparazzi.
Buzz Buzz.
Shitty Hair - OH GOD! this was today! she's here in Japan!
Raccoon Eyes - EEEK! I CAN'T WAIT FOR TOMORROW, WHAT DO YOU THINK SHE'LL WEAR?!?!
Bob Head - oh god! that's a lot of pap.. i hope she's okay :(
Nerd - Yeah.. I'm sure someone like her is used to it but, wouldn't that get a little draining?
He hated to admit it, but Deku was right, shit, having people scream your name everywhere you go has got to get tiring.
Shitty Hair - yeah, I'm sure it is tiring, but that's what you get in that industry, hell guys even we get that
Shitty Hair - …but seriously, I think she's gonna wear black
Pump Legs - She's definitely wearing red
Raccoon eyes - I SECOND THAT!!!!!
Shitty Hair - NO?!?
Shitty Hair - Katsuki! what do you think?
- i’m not participating.
Dunce Face - the obvious answer is green
Pump Legs - Wanna bet?
Shitty Hair - KATSUKIIIIIII
- white.
Shitty Hair - WHITE?!
Bob Head - waaaiiiittt cause i can see it..
Aaaand that was Katsuki's queue to exit the group chat, he scoffed to himself and was just about to go shower but curiosity got the best of him. He groaned before googling her name. Pictures and articles popped up of her when one of them caught his eye. "BREAKUP?! Y/N and Cole Malter’s 1 year relationship comes to a CLOSE" Katsuki's interest was peaked and he clicked on the link, scrolling down pictures of Y/N at red carpets were displayed, a tall guy with black hair and a cocky look in his eye was seen standing next to her. A very obvious grip on her waist. Katsuki narrowed his eyes and thought, ‘Who even is this guy?’ before realizing he was an actor on a popular sci-fi show Deku was once talking to Sero about during one of their movie nights. He could tell immediately this Cole guy was an asshole, just by the way his lips curved up into a smug grin and again that tight possessive grip on Y/N's waist. Katuski glanced over at Y/N trying to read her expression but was only met with a bright smile that creased the corner of her eyes a little.
Scrolling down on the article, according to a source Cole's very “open” drug addiction was one of the reasons for the split. A video was attached bellow showing Y/N and Cole late at night in LA by a crosswalk, Cole was clearly drunk out of his mind as he threw himself on her while laughing. Y/N's face was anything but happy. You see her shaking her head at him before turning him as she spoke, Cole throws his arms up in a defensive way, but Y/N keeps at it. She moves her hands in a expressive manner as Cole lights up a cigarette, seconds later he puffs smoke directly in her face..
Y/N stands there no longer speaking and turns back in front of her with a blank expression on her face, Cole laughing, no remorse shown. The video ends there.
Katsuki scrolls to the comments,
user62946: omfg it's so obvious he's high on TOP of being drunk.
y/nforpresident: what an ASS. I would've dumped him too.
maggieisabbi: when I see stuff like this I always think if people were dropped on their head as baby
reply/user72048: LOLLLLLL
kentuckyfriedchicken: didn't he just get out of rehab too??? how long has this been going on
deluluisthesolulu: I feel awful for her, my partner for 3 years was a druggie, by far most draining experience EVER. glad she got out when she did.
Kastuki shut his phone off after reading a couple more comments. A pang of sympathy rushed through him for her, he immediately clocked it and shook his head, he has no relation to her, tomorrow night will be the first and last time they ever crossed paths.
"Why do I even care?"
-
Y/N was awoken by a knock on her door, her manager, Crystal and long time best friend came through after announcing it was her. Y/N groaned dramatically when Crystal pulled the curtains open, the sun stinging her eyes immediately.
"CRYSTALLL."
"Wake up hun, we gotta get you ready for tonight."
Y/N's eyes opened at that, when her team got a request for her performance a month ago she was thrilled to say the least, she loved gala's and being able to have more domestic performances like she was just another girl with a voice.
"Uh?? Hello!! Yes!", was the first thing she said when Crystal pitched the idea to her.
Y/N was a big fan of the heroes and felt like her dreams were coming true when she realized she would meet some of her favorite ones! Not realizing they were just as excited to meet her.
After an hour of hair she was now sat down on a high chair, her makeup team working away their magic, she texted her mom letting her know how the preparations were going. A text came up from Cole, Y/N stared at it her stomach swarming with anxiety, she swiped the text away not even bothering to read what he had texted. With a deep breath she shut her phone off and focused on getting ready.
"Was that Cole?", Crystal asked with a hint of worry.
Y/N shook her head, "Doesn't matter, when I go back to LA I'll deal with him then.."
Cyrstal stayed silent, fiddling with her bracelet, "Just.. be careful? This isn't the first time he's come crawling back and-"
"I've got it handled Crys."
"-No I know it's just.." she sighed looking deeply into Y/N's eyes, "guard yourself, don't succumb back into what he wants."
Y/N extended a hand, holding Crystals hand with a small squeeze, "I won't."
Crystal smiled, “Good, now chop chop people we have to be out the door and on our way to the venue in less than thirty minutes!!”
Y/N smiled, Crystal completely back on manager duty, her mind went back to Cole, thinking about the last in person conversation they had.. Cole was almost on his knees asking her not to leave him, but she was too tired to continue on with him and his actions, she didn’t care about her image, if Cole needed her by his side during his recovery out of his addiction she would, and she was, but he just wasn’t meeting her halfway, and in the end the only person getting hurt was her.
“Hey babes?”, Kelly, her makeup artist spoke up, “I’m intrigued, who are you most excited to meet tonight?”
Y/N was pulled out of her daze and smiled brightly, “Now there’s a question I want to be asked! ..Hmm, honestly? I adore Red Riot, his quirk is so coool!! His whole friend group seems like such sweet people”
Crystal jumped in, “Oh yeah, i read somewhere they all went to the same hero school, UA or something”
Kelly nodded, “Yeah the top 3 hero’s are in that group as well… gonna be completely blunt, that Shoto hero…? Such a good looking guy”
Y/N snickered while Crystal laughed, “Oh my gosh let’s talk about it, that guy you mentioned Y/N, Red Riot? He could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d thank him”
“Haha-! What the hell Crystal?!”
Crystal and Kelly laughed along with some of the other staff working who overheard the girls conversation
After Kelly stopped laughing she asked, “What about you? Who do you find attractive from all the hero’s?”
Y/N shook her head, “No way in hell am i answering that-”
“Awww come onnnn!”
“No!”
“Please?!”
Y/N sighed, a small smile betraying her, “Uhm.. well Dynamight’s pretty cute-”
A squeal from the two girls pierced Y/N’s eardrums, “Oh my god shut up both of you! Aren’t we on a time crunch? I’m still with the same unblended concealer I had five minutes agooo!”
Crystal shook her head grinning before clapping her hands and ordering people around, Y/N smiled as a giggle escaped her and Kelly.
“Isn’t Dynamight the really loud and brash one? I heard he once cussed out a reporter on live television”
Y/N nodded, “Yeahh.. but that reporter did ask him a really stupid, out of the box question, so i think it’s completely valid”
“Yeah but doesn’t he like hate is fans or something? Anytime he’s at fan signs he always look so miserable”
Y/N pressed her lips, “You know he once saved two children from an apartment complex that was on fire and was about to crumble within seconds? He even helped an old lady at the grocery store cross the road because she was afraid to make cars stop for long just so she could go?” she paused for a moment, “Does he sometimes come off as loud? aggravated? mean? yeah, but so do we, that man has seen things and experienced things we couldn’t even imagine,” she ends with a shrug, “I’m just not convinced he’s truly like that”
-
Later into the evening Y/N was behind a secluded corner, preparing herself as she was about to go on stage and sing for the heroes she peaked out a curtain to see everyone gathered around, shes preformed in front of filled to the brim stadiums, always feeling confident beforehand and right about now she needed some of that confidence.
This was a more domestic appearance, they didn’t come here to see her, she came here to be the one to bring on a show for them and bring it well.
“You are 3 minutes till entrance Ms Y/N”, spoke out a tech staff that was helping for the night, she thanked them and noticed they were still lingering, “Is something the matter?”
“Oh! No- no i just- well, could i get a picture?”
Y/N smiled, “Of course!”
She finished up with the staff and began to take deep breaths to ease her stress
Suddenly microphone feedback rang in the air and a rough voice spoke out, it was All Might, one of the greatest hero’s about to make a speech.
“Ahem, hello everyone good evening, it’s good to see everyone here and thriving.” applause erupted, “As you know this year was filled with its challenges, hardships and struggles.. a lot of you have been placed in situations where some of us couldn’t handle. Some were forced to make difficult decisions, some of us easy ones.., but at the end of it we completed what we chose to do, and that was make the world a safer place.” applause filled the room a second time, “Now, it is time to relax, celebrate the holiday season, enjoy friends and old faces we haven’t seen in a while and most of all, pat one another on the back for yet another great year of hero work!!” some heroes let out whistles and cheers
“Now i won’t bore you any longer and skip to the part i know we all.. have been waiting for, ladies and gentlemen! Please give a loud and warm welcome to the woman who is by far the voice of this generation.. Ms Y/N!!”
Y/N’s heart felt like it got squeezed at the lovely compliment given to her, All Might stepped off the stage and the lights going completely off, a few gasps let out, she walked out onto the stage, careful not to trip, standing in front of the mic stand, her iconic jeweled microphone in her hand.
Flash
The lights came back on in an instant revealing Y/N standing in a beautiful while shimmer dress, her curled hair draping down her back, her cheeks rosy, her eye shadow glittering from the lights, a smile peaking out from her glossy lips.
“Heroes how we doing tonight!?”
Applause was not hesitated the minute she spoke. As the music began to play, a familiar christmas chime filling everyone’s ears, Y/N looked around the crowd seeing everyone’s faces and smiling before her eyes locked on dark red ruby ones, the eyes no doubt belonged to him.. Katsuki Bakugo.
authors note:
never in my whole time of being here on tumblr would i ever think i would have the guts to publish something, and when i finally do it received a lot of love and attention! (at least in my eyes)
seriously all the love from the intro made me so happy and i’m glad you all love it!! as requested here is a taglist! comment if you want to be added as well :}
ps. look out for a moodboard i’ll be posting! ;}
@d1orhaz3 @stoned-anime-babe @yjploum @penguinsravioli @mutsu422 @anonymity-222
#katsuki bakugou#mha#mha bakugou#katsuki bakugo angst#bakugo smut#bakugou katsuki#eventual smut#katsuki bakugo x reader#fanfic writing#fanfic#new writers on tumblr#idk what else to tag#katsuki bakugo mha#mha smut#mha x reader#mha fanfiction#billie eilish#celeb rp#katsuku bakugo smut#smut#bnha bakugo katsuki#my hero academia#bakugou x y/n#bakugo fluff#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bakugo katuski#bakugou x you#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x you
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TOKE 'N STROKE
"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"
He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.
Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.
Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"
He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"
Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."
Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"
"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.
"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.
A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"
After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.
"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.
Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...
...
When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.
When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.
"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.
Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"
After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."
*PHRRRBBBTTT!*
His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.
"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.
"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.
"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.
Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"
"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.
Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."
Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"
*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*
Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.
As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.
"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.
Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.
#gay to straight tf#lib to con#gay to straight#bro tf#farts#fart kink#dumb jock#dumbing down#brainwashing#corruption kink#gamer tf#trashy tf#male transformation#transformation#transformation story#gross tf#g2s#male tf story#permanent tf#stoner tf#jock tf#male tf
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PROLOGUE ━━ Beginning of the End
☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)
☆ ━ word count: 3.8K
☆ ━ warnings: small mention of homophobia, underage drinking, think that’s all idrk
☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist
☆ ━ author’s note: hi!!!!! this is the prologue to my new hopkins p fic and i’m so excited cause it’s taken me so fucking long to actually get this whole fic cooked up but now it’s here and the chapters shouldn’t take too long to come out. anyways you could lowkey probably read this as a one-shot but i have so much more planned for paige and dani so if you wanna keep reading, just be prepared for lots of angst 😊
DANI CALLAN sits at the desk, curling the last remaining pieces of her hair, her irritation simmering just beneath the surface. It’s late May, and the warmth of the Minnesota summer is just beginning to set in, but the night air outside does little to soothe the sheer annoyance that has gripped the girl all day. Tonight is the last night she has with Paige before her best friend is whisked away for the summer due to her thousands of basketball obligations. And guess where they’re going?
A party.
A party. Dani fights the urge to scoff at the thought, jaw clenching.
Paige is excited, though. She’s been excited ever since her basketball buddy told her about it earlier this week, buzzing with energy. “It’ll be fun,” she said, her blue eyes shining with that infectious enthusiasm that makes Dani melt every time. “One last hurrah before I’m off to camps and Thailand and everything else.”
Dani tried to muster some enthusiasm, tried to match Paige’s smile, but she could feel her own fading before it ever really took hold. Because she doesn’t want to go to a party tonight. She doesn’t want to waste the precious few hours she and Paige have left together surrounded by a bunch of people they hardly know, shouting over music, drinking cheap alcohol, pretending to have a good time. Dani wants to be alone with Paige, have her best friend all to herself. She wants to talk. To laugh. To maybe, just maybe, get the courage to tell her what’s been weighing her shoulders down for months now.
But instead, they’re going to a party.
Dani sighs, turning the curling iron off as she catches her reflection in the mirror. Her hair falls in long, loose waves down her back, light makeup coating her face. She wears a simple tank top and jeans—nothing special. She doesn’t feel special tonight. She feels like she’s being cheated out of something, and she can’t even put her finger on what it is.
“Dani! You ready?”
Paige’s voice rings out from the hallway as she opens the door to her bedroom. Dani grabs her phone and looks up and over at Paige, who stands in the doorway with a radiant smile on her face. She’s dressed in all black—black leggings and a black long sleeve—with her favorite pair of lavender dunks on her feet. Her blonde hair’s been done up in its usual ponytail, and she’s got a little bit of mascara coating her lashes. She looks effortlessly beautiful, like she always does, and for a moment, Dani forgets all of her frustrations.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” Dani lies, forcing a smile.
“Great, c’mon,” Paige says, grinning as she takes Dani’s hand, the pair of them leaving Paige’s house through the front door.
As they walk down the street, Dani can’t help but feel a pang in her heart. She’s grown up next to Paige, and this street, this neighborhood, has been their playground for as long as she can remember. Every corner holds a memory, every crack in the sidewalk a story. And, now, with Paige leaving tomorrow, Dani feels like she’s about to lose a piece of herself. Sure, after the summer they still have the entirety of their senior year together. But after that? Nothing. Because Paige will have summer sessions and be at UConn and become a basketball star and Dani will still be here. Of course, there’s been short, hopeful conversations about Dani going to Connecticut, too, so that they can spend their college years together. But Dani knows it’s unrealistic—her dad wants her to stay in Minnesota so she’ll stay in Minnesota. And Paige will be a thousand miles away, starting a new life that doesn’t involve her childhood best friend.
“Who’s all gonna be here tonight?” Dani asks as they walk along the sidewalk, trying to start conversation.
“Oh, everyone, I think,” Paige says, bobbing her head enthusiastically. “I mean, y’know probably like the same crowd from New Years. Maybe more, since some of Luca’s college friends are back. Ion know, prolly whoever’s in a five mile radius that’s wanting free booze. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
Dani nods and bites her lip, trying to swallow down her disappointment. “Yeah, fun,” she echoes, trying to sound convincing.
They walk in comfortable silence for a little while, Paige sometimes purposefully walking into Dani and making her stumble a little. Dani watches the blonde out of the corner of her eye, heart banging against her chest as if it’s a jail cell, forced to hold inside everything it longs to say. She wants to tell Paige that she doesn’t want to go to this party, that instead she wants to spend their night together, really together. She wants to tell Paige that the idea of losing her for three months—and then, once they graduate, for forever—has been tearing her apart inside.
But most of all, she wants to tell Paige that she loves her.
The thought has been haunting Dani for months now. It crept up on her slowly, in quiet moments and stolen glances, until now it’s become all she’s able to think about. She’s tried to push it down, tried to convince herself that it’s just a phase, just confusion. But the more she tries to ignore it, the more it seems to consume her.
Dani’s never been in love before. Sure, she’s dated boys in the past, liked them enough. But it’s never felt real, not like it does with Paige. Because Paige makes her feel alive in ways that no one else ever has. And that? That fucking scares the shit out of Dani. It scares her because she knows exactly how her dad would react if he ever found out. It scares her because she has no idea if Paige feels the same way. But most of all, it scares her because it’s not right—her liking another girl like this is wrong and it’s bad.
(Sometimes, though, it feels so right.)
And yet, tonight, with Paige leaving in the morning, Dani feels like she’s running out of time. Maybe tonight she can find the courage to say something—anything. Maybe tonight she can find the words.
(She doubts it.)
The party is already in full swing when Paige and Dani arrive. The house is packed with people, the music blaring so loud that the Callan girl can feel the bass thumping in her chest. The air is thick with the smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat, and Dani fights the urge to turn around and walk right back out the door. But Paige is already pulling her inside, their hands linked, her excitement palpable.
The pair make their way through the crowd, Paige greeting people left and right, voice loud and grin never wavering. Dani tries to keep up, tries to match her best friend’s energy—but she feels like she’s drowning in a sea of noise and bodies and it’s making her anxious.
It’s at times like these that Dani realizes just how different her and Paige are. Paige is outgoing and extroverted, a ball of energy and enthusiasm and it’s hard to ever keep her in a single place at once. She talks and talks and talks and she’s so charming she could probably make anyone fall in love with her. Dani’s the exact opposite. She’s introverted, preferring a small circle over a large one. She’s more withdrawn and quiet, and likes to listen instead of speak. She’s reserved and she doesn’t mind it—except when she’s at places like these.
“Hey, I’m gonna grab us some drinks,” Paige shouts over the music, leaning close to Dani’s ear.
“Okay,” the Callan girl nods, watching as the blonde disappears through the crowd.
Left alone, Dani takes a deep breath, glancing around the room. She recognizes a few faces, people from school, but none of them are close friends. None of them are Paige. She briefly talks to the boy that was her Chemistry partner for the majority of last semester, before excusing herself and gravitating towards a corner of the room, away from the chaos, where she can at least try to collect her thoughts.
As she stands there, watching the party unfold around her, Dani’s mind begins to wander. She thinks about how different things are gonna be this summer, without Paige. She thinks about the way Paige smiled at her earlier, how her touch sent shivers down Dani’s spine. She thinks about what it would be like to kiss her.
“Dani?”
She blinks, snapping out of her reverie at the sound of her name. She glances up to see Paige standing in front of her, two red solo cups in hand and a concerned expression painting her face.
“You okay?” the blonde asks, handing Dani one of the cups.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” the girl replies, taking the cup and offering a weak smile. “Just… thinking.”
Paige’s concern doesn’t waver. “You sure? You seem kinda, like… Ion know, off tonight?”
Dani hesitates, the words on the tip of her tongue. She wants to tell Paige everything. She wants to pour out her heart right there, in the middle of this stupid party, and finally let her best friend know just how much she means to her. But the words don’t come, stuck in the back of the brunette’s throat. She can’t bring herself to say them.
Instead, Dani takes a sip of her drink—some sort of vodka lemonade, she thinks—and forces herself to smile. “I’m good. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess. Big party.”
Paige studies her for a moment longer, blue eyes searching her best friend’s face for answers. Then, she seems to accept it, her grin returning as she leans in closer.
“Okay,” she agrees. “But lemme know if you need a break, yeah? We can always go out back on the swings for a bit or somethin’—just you and me.”
Just you and me. Dani’s heart skips a beat at the words, and she feel the tips of her ears beginning to redden like they always do when she’s flushed. However, before she can respond, someone calls out Paige’s name from across the room. The blonde girl glances over her shoulder, her smile widening when she catches sight of who’s beckoning her.
“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t go anywhere,” Paige says, giving Dani’s arm a reassuring squeeze before heading off to greet some tall boy that Dani can only assume is another basketball player.
The brunette watches her best friend go, feeling a pang of disappointment settle in her chest. She’d been so close to saying something, so close to telling Paige how she really feels. But now, the moment is gone, swept away along with Paige, leaving Dani alone once again—albeit, with a drink this time.
The night wears on, and Dani tries her best to keep up with Paige’s energy, but it only seems to be getting harder and harder. Paige comes and goes, sometimes bringing Dani with her, sometimes not. She moves through the whole party, laughing and talking with everyone, her charming smile never faltering. For a while, Dani follows along with her best friend, almost like a lost puppy. It then dawns on her just how pathetic she is as she endures Paige’s conversations with basketball bro after basketball bro. Eventually, Dani can’t take it, excusing herself. As she walks away, it feels like it’s Paige slipping from her grasp, even though it was Dani that left the blonde girl’s side.
Dani finds herself in the kitchen, making herself another drink to keep busy. And then she downs it. And repeats the process. It makes things easier, more bearable.
She keeps going for far too long before a voice calling her name interrupts the ongoing process. Dani turns to see Thaliah Sommers, and, when her eyes set on the girl, her shoulders automatically relax and she breathes out a sigh of utter relief.
“Oh, thank God,” Dani whines, leaning into Thaliah and resting a head on the girl’s shoulder.
Thaliah has known Dani and Paige since the fourth grade, when the trio had to share a table for half the school year. It sparked a long-lasting friendship, and Dani and Paige would both probably tell you that other than each other, Thaliah is their best friend. And Jalen Suggs, too. Even though he goes to a different school, Paige and his basketball connection ended up becoming more genuine and the blonde had introduced the boy to Dani and Thaliah, which basically became history. The four clicked almost instantly, and they’ve been great friends since. But Dani knows Jalen isn’t here tonight—he’s out-of-state, for basketball. He won’t be back til the end of July, she’s pretty sure.
“You having fun?” Thaliah asks as she wraps a friendly arm around Dani’s side, letting the drunker girl lean on her. Dani shakes her head, pouting childishly. Thaliah chuckles a little at the sight. “Anxious?” she adds, knowing the Callan girl well.
“And disgusted,” Dani nods, watching a boy chug from a keg across the room, beer spewing around him.
Both girls laugh at the sight, and then Dani’s had enough, eyes flitting away from the scene to a different one. She wishes she would’ve kept her gaze on the boy instead. Because this is much worse.
Over, near the back door, Dani sees Paige. Paige Bueckers, clear as day, in the flesh. And she’s kissing someone. A girl. A pretty blonde girl that Dani doesn’t recognize. The sight hits Dani like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of her.
She stares in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest as she watches Paige pull the girl closer, their bodies pressed together, their lips moving in perfect sync. Dani digs her fingers into the side of her solo cup, crumbling it slightly; she feels like she’s going to be sick.
“Even more so now,” Dani mumbles, referencing her last comment.
Thaliah’s eyes widen, starting, “Dani—”
But Dani won’t hear it. She won’t hear anything. Without thinking, she turns and practically bolts from the house, her drink forgotten on the counter as she pushes her way through the crowd. She needs to get out of here. She needs to breathe. She needs to get as far away from that sight as possible.
The cool night air hits her like a splash of cold water as she stumbles out onto the front lawn, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Her mind races, a jumbled mess of emotions that she can’t untangle. She feels betrayed, hurt, angry, but most of all, she feels stupid.
So fucking stupid.
Stupid for thinking that Paige could ever feel the same about her. Stupid for believing she had a chance. Stupid for letting herself become enough of a mess to not only like another girl romantically—but for that girl to be her best friend.
“Dani! Danielle, wait!”
Paige’s voice calls out from behind the girl, and Dani feels her heart lurch. She doesn’t want to stop. She doesn’t want to face Paige right now, not after what she just saw. But her feet betray her, slowing to a halt as she reaches the sidewalk.
Paige catches up to her, slightly out of breath, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. “Dan, what the hell? Why’d you just run out like that?”
Dani turns to face the basketball player, and the anger she’s been holding back finally begins to boil over. “Why do you think, Paige?” she snaps, voice trembling slightly as she tries to keep her eyes from swimming.
Paige frowns, clearly taken aback by the venom in her best friend’s words. “I don’t know!” she replies, throwing her hands up. “That’s why I’m asking! What’s going on with you tonight?”
Dani lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “What’s going on with me? What’s going on with me? You seriously don’t fucking get it, do you?”
Paige’s confusion only deepens. “No, I don’t! Dani, please, just talk to me—what happened? What’s wrong?”
Dani clenches her fists at her sides, trying to keep her voice steady. “I just watched you make out with some random girl, Paige! That’s what happened! That’s what’s wrong!”
Paige’s eyes widen with realization, her baby blues flitting across Dani’s face in almost a panic. She takes a step closer to her best friend as she quickly says, “Oh… oh, shit, Dani, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“Exactly!” the Callan girl cuts her off, her voice rising. “You didn’t think! You never think! You don’t think about anyone but yourself!”
Paige recoils as if she’s been slapped, her face falling. “Dani, that’s not fair…”
“Isn’t it?” Dani shoots back, anger spilling over once more. “You didn’t even care that this was our last night together! You didn’t care that I wanted to spend it with you, just the two of us! You only cared about going to this stupid party and kissing some random girl! Like I don’t even matter to you!”
Paige’s eyes fill with tears, and she reaches out to touch her best friend’s arm, but she jerks away. “Dani, please, that’s not true. I promise you it’s not. You matter to me more than anything. I just… I don’t know what to say.”
The brunette’s anger begins to wane, instead replaced by the overwhelming sadness that’s been building inside her all night. Her eyes swim and blur as her voice softens, shaking with emotion. “Then why does it feel like I’m losing you? Why does it feel like if I don’t hold onto you as tight as possible, you’ll slip away from me?”
Paige stares at her, eyes shining with unshed tears. For a long moment, neither of them say anything. The only sound is the distant hum of the party and the rustle of leaves with the breeze. Dani’s heart pounds in her chest, her pulse quickening with each second that passes.
Finally, Paige takes a deep breath and takes a step closer to Dani, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not losing me, Dan. I promise you, you’re not.”
Dani stares at her, vision blurred with tears, voice breaking. “Then why does it feel like I am?”
Paige stands still for a long moment, shutting her eyes tightly. When she opens them again, tears begin to spill down her cheeks. “Danielle,” she starts quietly, and Dani’s eyebrows furrow slightly at the usage of her full name. “Danielle, I have been in love with you since the sixth grade.” The statement makes the brunette’s eyes widen, jaw going slack, as her own tears finally begins to fall. “Remember when I got that concussion, at my game? You— you came to my house as soon as you found out, and you were crying at the thought of me being hurt. And I was the one that had to console you. And— and then you”—Paige sniffles and swipes a hand across her nose—“you kissed me on the head and told me that you would always take care of me. And that was when I knew. I knew that I loved you and that I could never ever really be with anyone that wasn’t my best friend, Danielle Lizzie Callan. I knew it then, and I—I know it now.”
Paige pauses, and then her voice breaks even more when she starts again, “But I’ve been so scared to tell you. I never thought you liked girls, I always thought you were straight. There was no way you could love me back, right? And I—I know how your dad feels about it all, and you know how long it took me to even tell you I liked girls because I was afraid that you felt the same way towards it that he did. And even when I found out you didn’t, I still thought that a girl being in love with you—that me being in love with you—would disgust you and you’d hate me for it. So I never said anything.”
Paige ducks her head as a sob cuts through her throat. Dani takes a step closer, reaching up to cup her best friend’s face in her hands.
“I don’t hate you, Paige. I could never hate you,” she tells the blonde sincerely, keeping her voice even. “And I could never hate you, because I’m in love with you, too.”
Before Paige can say anything, Dani leans in and presses her lips to the blonde’s. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if they’re both waiting for the other to pull away. Even if Dani feels her cross necklace begin to burn into her skin, she can’t stop. She won’t.
All the anger, all the hurt, all the confusion seems to melt away in that moment, leaving only the overwhelming relief of finally, finally knowing that Paige feels the same way. Dani keeps on kissing her, hands slipping from her cheeks to the nape of her neck as Paige’s hands find their way to Dani’s waist.
It isn’t perfect. It’s messy, and frantic, and a little sloppy, but it’s real. And it’s them.
When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathing hard, their foreheads resting together as they try to catch their breath. Dani feels like she’s floating, feels like she’s dreaming, and she doesn’t ever want to wake up.
“I love you,” Paige whispers. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”
Dani feels her heart swell up with so much happiness it might just burst. “I love you, too, P. So much.”
They don’t go back to the party. Instead, they go to Dani’s house, where they planned to have a sleepover anyways. The walk is short, and they do it hand-in-hand, swaying a little and giggling a lot. When they get to Dani’s porch and the girl begins to shuffle for her keys, Paige takes the opportunity to peck her neck from behind over and over and over again, whispering in the girl’s ear, “I love you.”
It’s so refreshing to hear Paige say it that, for a moment, Dani forgets about her keys and pulls her best friend in for another kiss on the mouth, closing her eyes and savoring it.
Eventually, they do get inside and find their way up into Dani’s bedroom. They change, and shuffle their way under the covers, bodies close, skin touching. Dani tries not to think about her father in the room beside hers, or the bible on her bedside table.
“I don’t want to leave you tomorrow,” Paige murmurs against Dani’s collarbone, sighing.
Dani’s heart slows at the thought, a deep pang, but she knows that there isn’t another option. “I don’t want you to leave either. But we’ll be okay. We’ll miss each other, but we’ll be okay.”
Paige nods, looking up and letting her eyes flit across Dani’s face as if she’s trying to memorize every detail of it. “Yeah, we will.”
(They won’t.)
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers fic#uconn wbb#paige bueckers x reader#uconn#uconn huskies#wbb#wcbb#take me to church#paige bueckers smut#hopkins p fic#wlw#paige bueckers x oc
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drummer girl [a.a]
pairing: punk drummer!abby x reader
summary: dina dragged you to a bar for a concert, and you naturally thought it would be lame as hell... you were wrong!
warnings: sub!top!abby, dom!bottom!reader, poc friendly (if it's not lemme know ASAP), begging, praise kink, face riding, cunnilingus [r], mommy kink uh [r], squirting, tribbing AHHHH, orgasm denial, masturbation
wc: 3.6k
collaborators: @enbesbian / @enbesbians
"please, I will seriously pay you to come with me," dina begged, following you around the kitchen as you put away dishes. "you know how important this is to me, I can't just go alone!! I need you there. you're my wing woman."
you sighed, running your hands down your face. "dina, this is my one night off a week. why would I want to spend it at some bar seeing a band that I don't even like?" she frowned.
"how would you know that you don't like them if you've never listened to them before? just come with. you spend all your time at home and that's not how a young, beautiful college student should be spending her life." you rolled your eyes at her enthusiasm.
"look.. if I agree to come with you-" she squealed, "you're doing the dishes all month. deal?" dina clapped her hands and grinned.
"perfect. deal. now, let's go pick out your outfit." she grabbed your arm and pulled you in the direction of your bedroom, skipping all the way there while you walked.
you and your roommate dina had lived together for two years, ever since you met each other on campus. the first year was in a dorm... but that didn't really count. ever since then, you had become best friends, and essentially did everything together.
the first time dina mentioned this concert was two weeks ago, when she casually brought up that she was talking to a rockstar (her words). rockstar was a stretch, seeing as the band only had a few thousand followers on insta, but they were big on tiktok.
now, she was claiming that you had to come so that it wouldn't be awkward if her and this rockstar met up backstage and talked, and she wouldn't take no for an answer - no matter how much you said it.
that's how you got here, dolled up in cargos and a corset, going to see a band that you've never heard of with your asshole of a roomie. at least she blew your hair out for you and assisted with your makeup.
"jesus dina, it's packed. I thought you said this was gonna be a lowkey thing." you frowned. she didn't even bother answering, just locked her hand in yours and tugged you to the front of the crowd.
"you'll survive if you stop whining, y/n. just relax. you're way to wound up, I should get you a blunt." before you could ask her not to leave, she was gone. you didn't want a blunt, at least not right now - dealing with this many people high would probably give you a seizure.
the lights dimmed before dina got back, and when she did, she had two fruity drinks with her. "drink up, mama. tonight's gonna be so much fun."
the band was rock, and their lead singer and guitarist was the girl that dina was drooling over. her name was something like ellie, or eliza. you couldn't really remember, and the drink that she gave you was strong as shit.
maybe she was right, maybe you did just need to loosen up. by the time the drink was finished, you were grabbing her hands and dancing to the music with her, letting the alcohol take over your senses for a little while.
dina spun you, and while you were mid spin, you caught the eyes of someone on stage, and suddenly you felt incredibly sober, even if you were still buzzing. you let dina dance with herself for a minute as you tried to catch another glimpse of the drummer, but ellie was moving so much that you could barely see anything.
finally, ellie moved to a stationary microphone to play a slower song, and you could see the drummer in full view; hair pulled off her face revealing her blue eyes, high cheek bones, sharp jaw. she was in a loose muscle tee, and had a few layered necklaces from what you could tell, and she was looking at you.
you slapped dina's arm lightly and she turned to you, smiling like she had just downed four more cups of whatever you were drinking. "who's their drummer?" you yelled.
"that's abby," she yelled back, "you can meet her later." she went back to dancing, while you turned back to the drummer, abby, who was now focused on her music as she sang chords with ellie.
when her portion of the song was over, she looked back up for a moment and locked eyes with you again. you were truly the only one she was looking for, out of the few hundred people in the crowd. there was just something so perfect about the way the light hit you, making your face glow and your body look exquisite. you looked like an angel.
the concert went on for another hour or two, you weren't exactly tracking. all you knew were abby's eyes, and you didn't seek to be knowledgeable about anything else but her. you had to know her. had to have her.
when ellie sat her guitar down at quarter past eleven, you felt like you were being stabbed. the night was over. people were leaving. the band was walking off stage. "will you stay here while I go talk to ellie?"
"I thought I came to make it less awkward when you talked to ellie," your eyebrows knit in confusion.
"please don't hate me but I lied to get you out of the house," she was already backing up, "I'm gonna go do adult things with her so.. stay here. you're my ride." she turned on her heel and sped back stage while you scoffed. she was dead when she got back.
you slid into one of the booths and scrolled on your phone for a while, actually following the band's insta and tiktok. your phone was dying, and you needed the charge to get home, so you sighed and sat it down, staring at your hands while you picked your nails.
"did your friend leave you?" you looked up as you heard a voice, undoubtedly directed towards you. and. fuck. it was her - the drummer who you were making eyes with for three hours, who you were convinced you were never going to see again.
"she's in the back hooking up with ellie," abby snickered, cheeks a little rosey. you noticed some equipment she must've sat down, and you wondered how long she had been standing there before you acknowledged her.
"yeah, that checks. the door was locked when I tried to get my stuff." a silence fell between the two of you, and you tried to think of anything you could say.
"you had a really nice show," you broke the silence, smiling nervously, "I've never heard you guys play before tonight. it was crazy good." she stuffed one of her hands in her pocket and rubbed the back of her neck.
"thanks so much," she was practically giggling at the compliment. "uh, I gotta put some stuff away and head out.. d'ya think I could get your number?" you took her phone quickly, putting your number and name into it. you handed it back to her, smiling.
"abby, let's fucking go already," a man yelled into the bar from outside, looking at her with an annoyed expression.
she broke your eye contact to flip him off, then smiled. "I should probably go.. I'll text you." she picked up her bags and took them out to a van, then got it. dina came out seconds later, hair disheveled and makeup smudged.
"I don't wanna know." you said, sliding out of your booth and walking towards the car, your arm over her shoulders and her arm around your waist.
- - -
an hour later, your phone buzzed. ideally, you should've been asleep, but you couldn't get over the prior interaction. how could someone get over that? a hot drummer, with arms for days (something you couldn't see on stage) and the prettiest face, wanted your number.
hey it's abby :)
you responded with your name and asked her how her night was, and the following hours were spent talking about random things until the sun came up. she told you about this annoying guy in her band, talked about her tattoos, explained why she became a drummer. you were essentially head over heels.
it wasn't until late in the morning that she asked you to dinner, but that hardly mattered. she asked you to dinner. abby. the insanely hot drummer.
"dina, help," you ran into her room, throwing your phone onto her bed and running your hands through your hair, tugging at your roots. "abby asked me out. I haven't gone on a date in years, what do I wear? what do I say?"
"abby as in.. drummer abby? ellie's abby?" you nodded and she gaped. "girl, you have game!! everyone wants abby and she wants you. this is big news. where are you guys going?" dina got out of her bed, dragging you back to your room to assist in your tragedy.
you weren't going anywhere fancy, just some pizza place, but dina seemed to have all the answers to every question. she gave you baggy jeans and a cute crop to wear, helping you style your hair and giving you a kiss on the cheek before she left to let you do your makeup.
"I would hit," dina joked when you came out of your bedroom. "but for real, you look so hot. she's so lucky." you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help yourself from grinning. you and abby didn't halt your texting after she asked you out, and the more you learned about her, the more you liked her.
"does the jacket ruin the outfit?" you asked, pouting in the body mirror in the hallway.
"no babe, you're just overthinking. be safe, no sex without protection, talk about boundaries, if you need me call me. I love you, have fun!" dina pushed you out the door and shut it behind you, prohibiting you from second guessing yourself.
and dinner went... better than anything you could've thought. somehow, every bad thought, every intrusive thought, just relaxed around her. you weren't worried that she wasn't going to like your outfit, especially after the way she praised your body like a temple. you weren't worried about anything.
did it count as u-hauling if you absolutely undoubtedly knew she was the one?
she insisted on driving you home, claiming that Ubers were way too unsafe for such a pretty girl like you, and spent the drive back to your house singing along to music on the radio.
when she arrived at your apartment building, she walked you up to the door, blushing like a mad woman and smiling. "I.. um, we.. we have a gig next week, same place and time if you.. y'know.. wanna come."
"I'll be there. front row." you smiled, taking a small step forward. "is this when we say goodnight?" you giggled. she cupped your jaw and leaned in, lips hovering over yours.
"can I kiss you, y/n?" her mouth quirked into a smirk as you pressed your lips into hers. you felt that smirk under your lips disappear as your tongue breeched her lips, and your teeth took ahold of her bottom lip. after a while, she pulled away, cheeks still red. "sorry.. if we keep going I might start moaning."
"hm," you shrugged, "I'll see you next week, drummer girl."
- - -
dina was on the phone, hyping you up for tonight's concert and apologizing for being unable to come. she was away for this week, visiting family, which conveniently left your house empty. it wasn't the first date anymore, right? that meant it was okay to do things now, and you were certainly thinking about it.
"girl you should get some action tonight!" dina squealed, "it's the perfect night. she'll be all hot and sweaty, and the house will be empty."
"d, we've been dating for a week. we're not even official." you laughed, propping the phone up as you touched up your hair and makeup.
"you're lesbians, babe. you could've never talked before and be fucking right now." you grinned, getting up and giving dina a full fit check. tonight's fit was parachute pants, a tube bra, and a bomber jacket.
"okay, I gotta leave. see you soon, my love." you kissed the screen then hung up, calling your Uber and heading to the bar. just like last time, the joint was packed, and it was incredibly harder to get to the front of the crowd than last time.
abby waved from between her drums, smiling. you waved back, smiling the same. she looked so good; hair down, pasties hardly covering anything but her nipples, tits on display. you couldn't wait to see her up close, have her pressed against you as she kissed you.. or other things.
they played spectacularly, blowing the minds of everyone who didn't know how amazing they were. when ellie gave closing remarks, you instinctively moved towards the door to backstage, waiting for someone to let you in.
ellie came out, smiling at you as she held the door open. you slipped in, finding abby in one of the backrooms packing up her stuff. "hey baby," you shut the door behind her, coming towards her. she looked up, grinning at you and pulling you in for a kiss.
you pulled away, taking in her appearance. the pasties covered less up close, and her abs, which you hadn't known she had, were perfectly sculpted and the waistband of her boxers were showing off from under her cargos, and she looked absolutely delicious. but aside from that, her blonde happy trail was leading to places you had to see.
"did you enjoy the show?" she was blushing again, noticing your gaze on her body.
"yeah, but I enjoyed the view more." you pulled her in again, kissing her harsher than before, running your hands down her waist and over her stomach. she gasped into your mouth when you ran your fingers above and between the ridges of her abs. "wanna go back to mine?"
"hell yeah I do." and that's how you ended up in her car, with her hand on your thigh, as you directed her to your apartment. you guys stumbled in, trying to get in as fast as possible. you kicked off your shoes and pressed your mouth to hers again, pulling at her neck as you stumbled towards your bedroom.
she fell back, pulling you into her lap and kissing your neck. hickies traced her path as she grabbed everything, gently grinding your hips or tugging at your shirt. the moment you ran your hands over her tits, she started whining like a bitch in heat. "please touch me, please put your hands on my tits baby, please," she pressed her nose into your jaw, moaning when you peeled the pasties off and started flicking her nipples.
her back arched against your hand, nipples clearly sensitive. she got louder when you kissed her chest, then took her nipple in your mouth, grabbing at your hair and trying to hold your head there. "does that feel good, sweetheart?" you asked, almost condescending because everyone in the room knew the answer.
"s'good. so good," she kissed your neck softly as she ran her hands over your sides and pulled your tube top up and off, letting your tits spill out. her tongue was on them in no time, licking and sucking and nipping. "please top me," she mumbled once she kissed her way back up to your neck.
"what was that, abs?" you giggled when she whimpered.
"want you to top me, mommy." you stood, shimmying off your pants and underwear and pulling your hair up.
"on your knees in front of me, angel." she hurried up, kneeling in front of you as you positioned yourself on the bed. she placed her hands on the sides of your thighs and pulled you forward slightly, kissing the inside of your thighs. "wanna eat my pussy?"
"yes, please let me," you grabbed her by her hair and pushed her head into your cunt, hearing her muffled moans. she licked a fat stripe up to your clit, sucking it into her mouth and licking harshly.
"fuck.. you were made to get on your knees, huh?" your voice came out as a pant, and you groaned when she moaned into your pussy. her boxers were weeping, drenched in how you made her feel. it was like she was being punched in a good way, in a way that made her clit ache and beat.
she continued to suck your clit as her middle finger gathered your slick and pushed into you, whining again at the easy intrusion. it's like she was getting off on getting you off, and you were living for it. but you definitely weren't going to let her cum until you'd had your fill.
when she added a second finger, your stomach was already flipping. she curled them up, matching her finger speed with the speed she was sucking your clit, and you felt the familiar tingle in your legs, that shot up to your stomach. "gonna come," you moaned, letting your head fell back as you saw stars.
she milked every last drop, waiting until you were absolutely finished to pull her fingers out. you cocked your eyebrow and almost instantly she sucked your cum off her fingers, eyes blown and dark. "what do you want, abby?" you asked, gently wrapping your hand around her throat so that she looked up at you.
"want you to sit on my face," she swallowed hard, "please, I can make you feel so good, I promise I'll make you feel good," you were definitely nervous, but you complied, letting her adjust and lay back on your bed, beckoning for you to climb over.
you placed your thighs on either side of her head and hovered, watching as she admired your pussy. her eyes were wide but the blue had almost turned grey, absolutely entranced by you. "you look so pretty, don't you?" you cooed.
you ran your hands down your body, spreading your lips with your fingers so that she could see just how wet you were. her jaw dropped, and you could feel her warm breath against you. you messed with your clit for a moment above her before sinking two of your fingers right into your hole.
you fucked yourself slowly, moaning as you hit your g-spot over and over. abby was just watching, eagerly waiting until you let her have her turn. you fucked yourself right until you came, pulling your fingers out and letting it drip onto her face.
"I need you to let me fuck you," she huffed, eyes still focused on your center as she stuck out her tongue. she finally looked up at you, so you tangled your hands in her hair and sunk down, letting her do the rest.
you ground your hips against her tongue until she slowed your hips and maneuvered her hands to rub your clit with her thumb, tongue fucking you as deep as she could.
she was mumbling incoherent things into your cunt, whining about how she never wanted to stop eating you out. you briefly pulled up, letting her get air. "you taste so good," she moaned, panting, "never wanna stop," the last word got cut off as you sat back down.
abby was having the time of her life - head tightened between the thighs of an absolutely gorgeous girl as you rode her face. but she was so fucking wet, and you had yet to do anything but touch her tits, and she was desperate for you. she needed you to tell her what to do and where to be.
your stomach flipped, the overstimulation from your last orgasm hitting you hard as you got close. "want me to come on your face, abby? wanna make a mess?" abby whimpered, vibrations pushing you over the edge.
after a few moments, you rolled off of her and fell next to her, breathing heavily. you sat up, moving between her legs. her stomach fluttered at the thought of cumming on your fingers or tongue. "you're soaking the sheets, princess." her hips bucked as you gently ran your thumb over her clit and down her slit.
you spread her legs then lifted one and straddled her hip, hovering again. "what-what are you doing?" she stuttered, but you didn't bother to answer as you lowered yourself down, cunts clashing as you rolled your hips forward. "fuck.. feels so good mommy,"
abby was practically screaming. her moans were almost shrieks at how heavenly it felt. she had never done something like this before, most of the time it was lowkey with her other partners and all they wanted was the strap - but this. this was different.
your pussy was covered in her slick and it felt phenomenal, she was pulsing and throbbing and so wet. you grabbed one of her tits harshly and pulled at her nipple, twisting it right as your clit landed against hers.
"I can't-I can't, fuck, m'gonna cum, m'gonna cum," abby wasn't ready for whatever feeling came next, but it was different - abrupt. there was no buildup, and it was probably the strongest orgasm she'd ever had.
you lifted off of her slightly, watching white pour from her swollen cunt, and giggling as she squirted. her head was back, chest rising and falling rapidly as she came down from her high. "you squirted all over my pussy, baby." she propped herself up on her elbows and blushed.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled as you climbed off of her.
"you don't need to apologize, sweet girl," she smiled into your mouth as you kissed her, pulling her in by her neck. "we should go shower, what do you think?"
"sounds good to me." let's just say that the shower was not rated pg.
a/n: this ended lowkey super weird BUT that's okay. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO FERN FOR HELPING MEEEEE they literally wrote this guys. go check on the art this was based on and give it SO MUCH LOVE or I'll hurt u ty ty. next time she'll fuck u with her sticks 😚
#abby anderson#tlou#tlou2#abby anderson smut#abby smut#abby anderson x reader#maya writes#abby the last of us#abby tlou#drummer abby
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Silent moments | Leah Williamson
based off a little request that I somehow lost! just a short one <33
The minute Leah came into Lily’s view, Lily left her teachers side and ran straight towards her, her face lit up with the sheer energy of a six-year-old who’d been saving all her stories for this moment.
“Mumma! Guess what?” Lily said as she handed Leah her bag. “Today we had a special visitor at school! And we made art with glitter! And guess who spilled their whole glitter jar all over the floor?”
Leah chuckled, slinging the backpack over her shoulder before taking Lily’s hand into her. “Oh wow, who?”
“Sammy!” Lily announced with wide eyes as if this was the most dramatic thing that had ever happened. “It went everywhere! And Ms. Jones said, ‘Oh no, not again!’ because apparently, he spills stuff a lot.”
Leah laughed softly as they made their way to the car, listening as Lily continued recounting every detail. She soon managed to get her into the car and strapped in. The ride home was filled with a steady stream of stories—what her friends did at lunch, how she drew the biggest rainbow ever, and how she got to be the line leader for the first time this week.
“Hey, bubs,” Leah said, turning to face Lily in her seat. “When we get inside, let’s try to be a little quiet at first when Mummy get home, okay?”
Lily tilted her head, her big, curious eyes locking onto Leah. “Why?”
“Well, Mummy’s had a really really long day at work, and she might be feeling a little tired,” Leah explained. “Sometimes, when grown-ups have tough days, they need a little bit of quiet before they can talk and play. So, we’ll give Mummy some space, and then you can tell her all about your day after she’s had a moment to relax. Sound good?”
Lily nodded seriously, her expression softening. “Okay, Mumma. I can wait.”
Leah smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind Lily’s ear. “That’s my good girl. You’re so thoughtful, you know that?”
With that, they climbed out of the car, and Leah held Lily’s hand as they walked toward the house. Even though Lily was still buzzing with stories, she was ready to show a little patience for you—just like Leah knew she would.
Leah set her up in her playroom with some colouring and a little tea party with her teddy bears. She began to make dinner while Lily played, knowing you’d be starving when you came home.
A few hours later, the door creaked open as you stepped into the house, the weight of the day heavy on your shoulders. You slipped off your shoes and dropped your bag by the door, wishing you could shed the stress as easily. The day had dragged on with endless meetings and tasks at work, and all you wanted now was a moment of peace.
You could hear Lily’s voice from the living room, her usual chatter filling the air as she played. You loved how full of energy she was, how much she loved telling you every little thing about her day, but right now, you weren’t ready. Not yet.
You stood in the doorway for a moment, gathering yourself for the chaos of Lily that you were about to be bombarded with. A few minutes of quietness was all you needed. Your head was buzzing with thoughts and all you wanted was a few silent moments.
Leah appeared from the kitchen, a soft smile on her face as she took one look at you and knew. “Rough day?” she asked gently, stepping closer.
You nodded, too drained to even explain. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, her touch soothing like it always was. “Why don’t you sit down for a bit? I’ll keep Lily busy.”
You shot her a grateful look and nodded before heading into the living room and sinking onto the couch. The cushions seemed to hug you as you closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. You could still hear Lily’s voice in her playroom, but it was quieter now, thanks to Leah.
“Lily,” you heard Leah call softly from the other room, “Mummy’s had a long day. Let’s give her a few minutes, okay?”
There was a brief pause, then Lily’s quieter voice responded, “Okay, Mumma.”
You smiled to yourself, knowing Lily was probably bursting with stories from school but was trying her best to be patient. Leah always knew how to balance things, how to give you that little bit of quiet you needed to reset.
For a few precious minutes, it was just you, the low hum of the house, and the comforting knowledge that Leah had everything under control. You heard the soft murmur of Leah and Lily talking, the clink of dishes in the kitchen, and the soothing rhythm of home surrounding you.
After a while, Leah appeared again, this time holding a cup of tea. She handed it to you, her eyes full of understanding. “Here,” she said quietly, “this might help.”
You took the cup, the warmth seeping into your hands, and took a slow sip. “Thank you,” you murmured, the simple gesture easing the last of the day’s tension.
Leah smiled and sat beside you, resting her hand on your knee. “She’s dying to tell you about her day. Apparently year one drama is at an all-time high right now.”
You chuckled softly, imagining Lily waiting for the go-ahead to launch into her stories. “Yeah, I’m sure she is.”
Leah gave your knee a reassuring squeeze before leaning her head on your shoulder. “Take your time.”
For now, the house was calm. Lily’s excited chatter would come soon enough, but at that moment, you had peace. Just for a little while. And right now, that was all you needed.
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