#just let me tell you that all the excitement and wanting to help REALLY HELPED in terms of morale and the general Vibe of VolStaff

[thegainingdesk]

It Takes Two

Robert had hit the jackpot with Liam. They just clicked in a way that he never had with any of his previous partners, or honestly, even his friends and family. Robert wasn't a particularly romantic person, but the word “soulmate” had cropped up in his thoughts more than once.

The two had the same humour, enough shared hobbies that they could always find something to do together, but were different enough that they were constantly introducing each other to new films, music, and ideas. It helped that they were both gorgeous. Liam was a little shorter than average with the trim build of a swimmer, and his sparkling blue eyes stood out below ash blond hair; Robert was taller and bulkier, but no less fit, and with dark hair and eyes. They both had great careers, great families, great friends, great lives. Robert couldn't imagine anything that could put a dent in the trajectory of their perfect relationship.

“Sorry, you want what?” Robert said, blinking. He couldn't believe his ears.

“I want us both to gain weight,” Liam said, breathing slowly and shakily as if to calm himself.

“Like bulking?” Robert asked slowly, grasping for an explanation that made sense. “At the gym?”

Liam exhaled forcefully and sat back. “No,” he said. “I want… I want to be fat. I'd like it if you were too.”

Robert sat in silence for a while. “Right,” he said after a while. “Okay.” He furrowed his brow. “Sorry, you're going to have to- why? I just don’t- why?”

“It's a uh…” Liam closed his eyes forcefully, balled his fists, clenched his teeth. “Well it's a sex thing,” he forced out. “I have a fat fetish.” He nervously played with the napkin in front of him and looked around the restaurant. “Like, we wouldn't have to, you know, I'm not saying I'd really want us to actually gain weight.” He laughed nervously. “But I just, I don't know, like it's a thing for me and I wanted you to know and umm well.” He took a sip of the beer in front of him. “I'd like it if we could do some stuff with it. Just, you know, roleplay or whatever, not obviously, like get fat or anything.”

The two men sat in silence for a while. “Okay,” Robert said after a while. “That's umm… well it's okay, I guess.”

“Yeah?” Liam said, sitting up in his chair and smiling for the first time in the conversation. “It’s okay? You don't think I'm a freak?”

Robert forced a thin smile. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean no, you're not a freak, but yeah, it's okay. I uhh, I think I'll need to think about it for a while.”

“Is everything okay for you both?” their waitress boomed down at the two of them in a thick Mancunian accent. They both jumped in their seats. “Sorry!” she continued. “Didn't mean to scare you!”

Robert shook his head. “Sorry, no, it's fine, we were just in the middle of umm… Yeah. It's good. The food’s all good.” He looked down at the half eaten burger and chips in front of him.

The waitress raised her eyebrows, clearly excited to tell her colleagues about the hot gay couple who seemed to be breaking up over dinner. “You call me if you need anything then, won't you?” she said as she walked away.

“I'm sorry,” Liam said. “This is a lot to just put on you, it’s weird. I just thought maybe over a meal might be easier, you know. Not as intense.”

Robert shook his head. “It's fine, really, I just need to…” He looked at the platter of sides that Liam had insisted on ordering. He'd found it odd at the time; now he found it made all too much sense. “I just need to get my head around it. Let's eat, yeah? We can talk about it in the morning?”

For the first time since they first met, their conversation was forced. They bounced between what they thought of recent movies they'd watched, banal work gossip, even at one point resorting to commenting on the weather. Slowly, the food disappeared from the table.

-

Robert woke Liam up by putting a mug of coffee on his bedside table and kissing his forehead. “Okay.”

Liam opened one bleary eye. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Robert repeated. “I've been thinking about it, and okay. If it'll make you happy, we can try out putting on some weight.” He sat down on the bed next to Liam.

“What?” Liam said, frantically sitting up in bed, all tiredness leaving his face immediately. “You're really- I mean, we don't actually- I'd be happy if we just did some roleplay, or maybe, I don't know, maybe a threesome with a big guy or-”

“No you wouldn't,” Robert said. “I saw you last night. You started off with saying you wanted us to get fat, then backtracked. This will make you happy.” He took a long swig of his own coffee. “And you make me happy. So I guess that I'll do it.”

“Rob, this is a really big… I mean…. Why are you okay with this? This is weird, I do know that.”

Robert shrugged and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I don't know if it is that weird, you know?” he said. “I mean, yes, obviously the specific, you know, request of it all is weird but…” He brought some photos and showed them to Liam. He swiped through men with varying degrees of dad bods, plus sized models, even some men with actual, if modest, guts. “People are into it, I guess? Like I know that. And I'm not averse to it, some of these guys are hot and I always like it when guys do bulks and…” He shrugged again and put his phone away. “I guess it would be nice to not worry about going to the gym and watching what we’re eating and stuff for a while.”

Liam hugged Robert tightly and kissed him. “This is amazing. You're amazing.”

Robert laughed. “Alright, alright. You’re going to owe me a lot of blowjobs for this though,” he joked.

“Oh don't you worry,” Liam flirted back. “Once you’ve put on a couple of stone you won’t be able to keep me off you.”

Robert’s face paled, but he gave a strained smile. “Come on,” he said, standing up off the bed. “I’ve been to the shops.” He swallowed nervously. “I thought we could have bacon and egg sandwiches for breakfast.”

-

Getting fat, Robert thought to himself a month later, was actually pretty fun. No more bothering with cardio at the gym, eating whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Food just tasted so much better if you stopped caring about how much butter you were adding, and he'd never realised how good McDonald's breakfasts were, but now was having multiple a week on his days in the office; this past week he'd even started experimenting with fast food for lunch, a luxury he'd always previously avoided. There were benefits he'd not expected as well; he’d hit multiple personal bests on lifts at the gym as all the extra food acted as fuel, and he's quickly come to enjoy the satisfying warmth of an overly full and stretched out stomach. Best of all, Liam’s sexual appetite, always healthy, had positively exploded, and the two spent most of their time together naked and eating.

Of course, not everything was rosy. Robert found it disconcerting how quickly his abs had faded and how his trousers had started pinching his sides and he would occasionally panic after they'd gorged on a particularly large meal, staring at the small curve of his gut in the mirror as he wondered what he'd agreed to. Still, he reasoned, it wasn't really noticeable yet, especially with clothes on and it really was fun just cutting loose. Besides, it made Liam happy, and Robert was quickly realising that that was all that really mattered to him. Everyone gains a bit of weight in relationships anyway.

“Best start laying off the beers Robby,” Robert’s brother Dylan said, poking the small puddle of fat at his middle. “You're starting to look like me.” He slapped his own beer belly, grown since the birth of his daughter a couple of years before.

Robert choked on his beer. “What?” he said. His hand flew down to his side, feeling the thin layer of fat that had started to accumulate. He was sure that you couldn't see the gained weight through his clothes. “No, I haven't, umm…”

“Ah, I'm only taking the piss,” Dylan said, slapping Robert on the shoulder before draining his pint. “I'm hardly one to talk, am I?” He gestured down at himself. “I'm just saying, our genetics, it'll catch up to you sooner or later. You've seen dad.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Here, I saw him last week, he said he was seventeen bloody stone. I said bloody hell dad, you'll need to reinforce these chairs soon.” Robert laughed through a forced smile. “Anyway, speaking of taking the piss,” Dylan said standing up and walking to the gents.

Robert took the opportunity to survey his body. Perhaps, he thought, you could just about start to tell - sitting down anyway. His shirt fit just a tiny bit tighter than he was used to, and his torso wasn't quite as flat. He thought back to what his brother said. Would Liam want him to get as big as his dad? Seventeen stone. He tried to imagine that much weight on him. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, he reasoned, he had a good base of muscle, he wouldn't look gone to seed like his dad, with his beer gut that strained all his shirts. Still, he resolved to cut back. Liam seemed happy enough with his current size, anyway.

Four hours later, Robert stumbled through his front door, chips, cheese and gravy in hand, sauce from his already devoured kebab down his shirt. He found Liam watching a film in the living room.

“Hello sexy,” Robert growled through a mouthful of cheesy chips. His cock hardened as he flopped down next to his boyfriend and began to feel up his thighs.

“Hello sexy to you too,” Liam laughed. “Did you get any for me?” he asked as he stole a chip.

Robert shook his head and pushed some more chips in his mouth. “Sorry, didn't think,” he said. “Was just really hungry.”

“That's okay,” Liam said with a smile growing alongside his erection. “You get nice and filled up.” He squeezed Robert’s middle. “I'm loving this beer bloat you've got going on,” he growled. He leaned in and kissed Robert’s neck while one hand began unbuttoning Robert’s jeans. “Did you have a good time with Dylan?”

Robert sighed as his jeans sprung open. “He said I'm getting fat,” he told Liam. His hand fell on top of Liam's as it massaged his gut. “Do you think I’m getting fat?”

Liam laughed. “Oh don't you worry about that,” he said. “You're nowhere near what I’d call fat yet.” Robert smiled before belching. Liam scrunched his nose against the smell of his breath, strong with beer. He leaned in and kissed Robert, hard and long. “How about we take those chips to the bedroom, big boy?”

-

Robert turned to the side as he looked in the mirror and sucked in. He tried to tell himself that he didn't look fat per se, but god was that getting more and more difficult. He was running out of euphemisms for his changing body; for a while he’d told himself he was looking solid, then healthy, then sturdy, burly, and husky and now he had to admit that thick was the best he could hope for. Hell, even chubby might be underselling it. He stopped sucking in and let his gut pool out, sticking out past the waistband of his new 36” waist trousers. He thought ruefully about the 38s lying in the drawer that Liam had convinced him to buy, telling him he'd be wearing them sooner rather than later. He brought his arm up and flexed. At least his muscles were growing too, but he had to admit, it was becoming less apparent as they got covered up with a layer of chub.

At least he wasn't alone in his changing body, with Liam also growing alongside him, although not nearly as fast. While Robert had recently passed two hundred and twenty pounds, Liam was lamenting how he was still fifteen pounds away from the big two-oh-oh. Robert told himself that it was just the difference in their heights, but he knew he wasn't really that much taller, and the difference in their weights really was becoming obvious. While Liam’s pudge had only just started forming a proper belly over the last five pounds, Robert’s own gut had long since reached the point of stretching out his shirts.

In a perverse way, Robert was almost beginning to enjoy how much fatter he was getting than Liam. He'd always been taller and bulkier than his boyfriend, with broader shoulders and bigger muscles, and odd as it was, he was enjoying how he was now outgrowing him in yet another way. He began to feel more masculine, more dominant, and he loved the way his new body made the smaller man go crazy and want to worship him, all while knowing that Liam would give anything to look like he did now. He'd always had a competitive streak, and this was just yet another competition to win.

Robert struggled to button up a shirt, and gritted his teeth as he felt the buttons strain around his shirt, even as his cock inexplicably swelled in his jeans. He walked downstairs and tried to ignore the sensation of his body shaking with each step to find Liam checking his hair in the mirror.

“You ready to go?” Robert asked.

Liam looked up smiling, only for his mouth to fall open upon seeing Robert. “Fuck Rob, you look massive.” He reached out to grab the bottom of Robert’s gut and gave it a small shake. “Are you sure you don't want to wear a large? It's a bit tight. There'll be loads of people there.”

Robert shrugged, the motion causing his shirt to ride up. He tugged at the hem awkwardly. “This is a large,” he explained. “I’ll need to go shopping for some extra larges this week.”

“Oh wow,” Liam whispered. “Extra large, that's, wow.” He tugged at the hem of his own shirt in a mirror of Robert’s motion. Despite being a medium, Robert knew, the shirt was barely snug. Robert struggled to hide a smug smirk, even as his annoyance at his shrinking clothes mounted.

“Well you'll be wearing this shirt soon enough, eh?” Robert said before giving Liam a kiss on the cheek. “And then we can share extra larges once you catch up.”

Liam smiled sadly. “Yeah, maybe.” His phone buzzed and he looked down at it. “Taxi’s here,” he said. “You got everything?”

Robert nodded an affirmative, before dashing to the kitchen and grabbing a couple of chocolate bars for the road.

“God did you see their faces?” Liam asked as they came back that night. His face was flushed with drink and arousal. “They couldn't believe how fat we'd gotten!”

Robert burped into his fist and began to unbutton his shirt and trousers. He gave a sigh of relief as his unconstrained belly was allowed to surge forward. Liam stared at the spectacle for a second before hurriedly mimicking the motion, despite his own clothes not being nearly so restrictive.

“Good food,” Robert said simply. His cock was rock hard, as it was more and more frequently whenever he'd stuffed himself, as he had tonight. He let out another belch.

“You ate so much,” Liam said, almost reverently. “When you went to the toilet, Olive asked if everything was okay. They're properly worried about how much weight we've gained.”

Robert gave a lopsided grin. He was sure they were mainly concerned about him, and not Liam, especially as he'd ended up finishing so many people's meals at the end of the night while Liam struggled to finish his own plate. He reached into his pants and gave his hard cock a squeeze. “You know,” he whispered to Liam, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “There's a tub of ice cream in the freezer. Maybe you could, you know, while I ate it?”

Liam's eyes widened. “You're still hungry? Oh wow. Yeah, yeah, absolutely, I mean, wow.” His smile widened and his hands explored the sides of Robert’s gut.

“Go on then,” Robert said with a small nod of his head towards the kitchen. “I'll be upstairs.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Of course, I'll just go and, yeah.” Liam dashed off towards the kitchen as Robert trudged upstairs, massaging his bloated middle.

Liam entered the bedroom to find Robert sat on the edge of the bed completely naked, with his legs spread wide to expose his thick, hard cock.

“I microwaved it for a bit,” Liam said. “So it's easier to eat."

Robert merely grunted and spread his legs wider in response as he took the tub away from Liam, making his wants clear. Liam sank down before him and dutifully swallowed as much of his prick as he could. Robert grabbed the spoon embedded in the ice cream, and sucked what was on there before tossing it to the side. Instead he simply raised the tub to his lips and began to chug. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, relishing in the twin pleasures of head and dessert.

Okay, he thought, yes, he'd lost his hot gym body he’d worked so hard for, but god, if this is what the alternative was, who gave a shit? What did he want to work out for anyway? He was in a great relationship, getting treated like a king, so it's not like he needed to attract anyone. And besides, his brother was right, with his genetics it was always going to be a losing battle. No, it was best to just lie back, taste the ice cream, and think of England.

He climaxed just as he finished the ice cream. “Thanks babe,” he grunted. “That was great.”

“That was really hot,” Liam enthused, unbuckling his belt and dropping his own trousers.

“Anything to make you happy,” Robert said as he crawled into bed and began scrolling on his phone.

“Oh. Right,” Liam said. “Yeah.” He crawled into bed next to Robert.

-

Robert burped as he brought the carton of heavy cream away from his lips. The taste was greasy and unpleasant, but he thrilled at the thought of how many calories he'd just chugged, and all before dinner.

“What are you doing?” Liam asked. “We’re leaving in a moment, you still need to get changed.”

“Just topping up the tank,” Robert grinned. He pushed his gut out to make a show of it. “What's wrong with what I'm wearing?”

Liam looked at his watch. “We’re eating in half an hour Rob,” he said. “And that shirt’s ridiculous, it's barely buttoned.”

Robert smirked and moved in close, grabbing Liam's love handles and grinding their soft bodies together. “Don't worry babes,” he said. “I'm just getting warmed up. Hey,” he added in a whisper. “I'll even let you feed me dessert later.”

Liam broke away and stepped back. “I'm being serious Rob,” he said, struggling to hide his erection. “You can't wear that shirt. Go find an extra large.”

Robert drummed his fingers against his gut. “All in the wash,” he said smugly. “Come on, don't act like this doesn't drive you wild.” He fingered his belly button through one of the gaping buttons holes. “Two-fifty pounds, eh? Did you ever imagine I'd get so big for you when you asked me to get fat for you?” He reached down and gripped Liam’s cock through his trousers. Liam whimpered involuntarily. “Did I tell you that I'm fatter than Dylan now? Dad too. Biggest guy in the family now, sounds pretty good, doesn't it?”

Liam stepped back away from Robert’s grasp. “Just put on a jumper or something,” he said. He rearranged his erection. “The one you got a couple of weeks ago will work.” Robert stepped closer again and he stepped back. “Please Rob,” he said. “It is hot how big you're getting, and I'm glad you're starting to get something out of it too, but not in front of my family, yeah?”

“I'm just joking!” Robert said. “I know I can't wear this out in public anymore. I'll go sort it now.”

“Thank you,” Liam said.

As Robert left he smacked the side of his gut. “All for you baby!”

Robert returned shortly after, his jumper managing to cover his body but doing nothing to disguise his expanded girth.

“I didn't ask you to get fat,” Liam said, sitting at the kitchen table.

Robert laughed. “What?” he asked.

“Earlier,” Liam said. “You said I'd asked you to get fat.”

“Did I? Well, you did, didn't you! Otherwise I have made a very big error of judgement.” He lifted his jumper to reveal the still straining shirt.

“No, I mean, I know I did ask you to get fat, obviously,” Liam said. “It's just. I didn’t say that. I said I'd like us both to get fat. Together. I feel like that's not been a thing for a while.”

Robert stepped closer to Liam and rubbed his buttery side. “You're getting fat too,” he said. He almost laughed at the ridiculousness of comforting someone about how they were gaining weight. “Here, you hit two hundred pounds finally, right? That's great! I'm really proud of you.” He kissed bent down to kiss Liam. “You're my chubby guy too. It's just that this is your thing I guess, so I don't know how to do all the encouragement stuff you do for me. I just want to make you happy, and I guess I got a little carried away.”

Liam shook his head. “No, I know,” he said. “I'm just being silly. I do really appreciate what you've done.” He laughed. “You know, I just kind of thought you'd put on twenty pounds and then get freaked out. I actually thought I'd end up being the fatter one.”

Robert kissed Liam again. “Funny to think about that now, eh? Here, we've still got five minutes before we need to leave,” he said. “There's another thing of cream in the fridge. Why don't I feed it to you before we go?” He leant in and whispered in Liam's ear. “I think you'll really love how two hundred and fifty pounds feels.”

Liam pulled a face and laughed. “No way,” he said. “I don't know how you chug them, it's absolutely gross.”

Robert shrugged. “Your loss is my gain. Why don't you have some chocolate or something then?” He opened the fridge and licked his lips as he looked. “You know, if you don't want it, maybe you could feed it to me? Maybe we could see if I could break my record for number of calories today?”

Liam forced a smile. “Yeah, if you want,” he said. “Sounds hot.”

Robert grinned as he passed the cream to Liam and sat down and tilted his head back to allow him to pour it down his throat. “The things I do for you, eh?”

-

Robert lifted up his t-shirt as he scratched his side. His most recent stretch marks were particularly aggravating, a fact which wasn't helped by the fact that he was just on the cusp of needing to size up his t-shirts and sweatpants, the too tight fabric irritating the more sensitive skin.

“What's for dinner babe?” he asked Liam as he walked into the kitchen. Liam was clearing away the remnants of Robert’s lunch, a small pile of McDonald’s wrappers and boxes.

Liam's eyes flicked up and down Robert’s body before turning away. “Roast lamb,” he answered. “I thought we'd have something a bit special, since I reached fifteen stone yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” Robert asked with a smile. He reached out and patted Liam's small paunch. “That's amazing, well done!” He hoped the milestone might work to undo some of the tension that had developed between them ever since Robert had passed two hundred and fifty pounds, almost thirty pounds ago now. Robert sometimes almost forgot that Liam was trying to gain at all, such was the disparity in their rates of weight gain.

“Yeah, I did actually tell you yesterday,” Liam said icily.

“Oh sorry!” Robert said, as he opened a cupboard and pulled out a pack of biscuits. “I must have forgotten.” He began to eat the biscuits three at a time.

“Yeah, well, you were eating, so…” Liam muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you said something,” Robert insisted.

Liam shrugged. “I said that you were eating,” he repeated. “So it's not surprising that you didn't pay any attention to me.”

“Where's this come from?” Robert asked, incredulous. Biscuit crumbs showered from his mouth as he spoke.

“Where's it… How about the last two years of you doing nothing but eating all the time, only caring about yourself?” Liam snapped.

“Excuse me?” Robert said. “Can I remind you that all of this,” he gestured down at his body, his soft overhang hanging out the bottom of his shirt, the way his sides bulged out, the outline of his tits pushing out and down, the beard he'd grown to hide his double chin, “is because you wanted it?”

“Oh, don't put this on me!” Liam replied. “You want this.”

“You're the one with the fat fetish!” Robert pointed out. “I’m just going along for the ride because I love you!”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “Well when was the last time I encouraged you then, if you're just doing it for me?”

“Yeah, actually!” Robert retorted. “I'm doing this for you and when was the last time you encou-”

“More to the point!” Liam interrupted. “When have you ever, ever, encouraged me?”

“What?” Robert asked, blinking. The question had genuinely thrown him.

“This was supposed to be about me!” Liam snapped. His voice shook a little. “I was the one who asked you to do it and at every fucking stage you've used it as an opportunity for me to wait on you hand and foot.”

“Oh, I've not done anything for you have I?” Robert grabbed the side of his gut and shook it. “Me gaining over a hundred pounds, just because you asked me to, doesn't count as me doing anything, does it?” A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of Robert forcing biscuits into his mouth. “I knew you were jealous,” Robert muttered eventually, crumbs spraying from his mouth.

“I am not fucking jealous of you,” Liam fumed. “How dare you? Fucking jealous.”

“Yeah, you know what?” Robert said. “That's exactly what this is. You wanted to get fat and you can't stand how much bigger I am than you.”

“Can you hear yourself?” Liam scoffed. “And you act like you don't want this at all.” He turned away and began to pull food from the fridge to make dinner. “No, what I wanted was for us to gain weight together. You had to take it all way too far.”

“I took it too far?” Robert asked.

“Yes,” Liam replied. “Yeah, you know what, you did take it too far.” He spun around and gestured down at his body. “I'm quite happy with where I am. I wanted us both to get dad bods, hot ex-jock vibes. Not obese middle aged dad.”

Robert’s face grew red. “That’s a lie and you know it,” he spat. “You still worship this gut every chance you get.”

Liam’s nostrils flared. He turned away, back to the chopping board, and busied himself with vegetables for a minute. Robert could hear him trying to slow his breathing. Eventually, he turned back around. “I just think we should both slow down,” he said. His voice was measured, slow and calm. His fists were clenched and shaking with white knuckles. “We've both,” he put special emphasis on the word, “maybe taken this too far, and it's probably best if we both take a break from the idea of gaining for a bit.”

“Yeah, why don't you slow down your gains,” Robert mumbled.

“What was that?”

Robert bit his tongue. He was being offered an opportunity to end this argument. “Yeah, you're probably right,” he agreed. “Whatever makes you happy. It was your idea after all. If you want to stop, no reason to carry on.” He shoved a fistful of biscuits into his mouth.

“Yeah, right, well,” Liam said. He sighed and turned back towards the food he was preparing. “Why don't you go watch something? I'll call you when dinner's ready. It'll be a while.”

Robert shrugged. “Sure,” he agreed.

“And Robert?” Liam called just as he'd left the room.

“Yeah?” Robert replied.

“Why don't you set up the spare room for tonight,” Liam said. “Your snoring’s gotten really bad the past twenty pounds or so, and I need to be up early.”

Robert hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, can do.”

-

“”What the fuck is this?” Liam sighed. Robert couldn't help but admire the way his partner's newly blossomed love handles were framed by the hallway light behind him. He felt oddly proud of his boyfriend's recent weight gain, even as it paled against his own.

“I uh… well,” Robert began. He looked down at himself in the light streaming in from the door. Clad only in too tight underwear, crumbs had fallen down to litter his body hair. His fingers were thick with chocolate icing where he'd dug them into the cake in front of him, and he knew that it must be all around his mouth as well. “I got hungry,” he finished lamely.

Liam entered the dark kitchen and sat in a chair opposite Robert. “Dinner was plenty,” he said. “I was full.”

“Yeah, well, I'm bigger than you, aren't I?” Robert pointed out. “I can't help it if I get hungry, can I?”

Liam shrugged. “I guess, yeah,” he said. “Could you help buying a-” he picked up the packaging and peered at it in the dim light. “Party-sized triple chocolate fudge birthday cake, serves twenty, I'm assuming earlier today?” he asked. “Because this didn't magically appear in the kitchen. Could you help hiding it? And suggesting that you sleep in the spare room so I wouldn't notice when you snuck downstairs?”

Robert slumped in his chair. The wood groaned in protest. “I am trying,” he said after a while.

Liam sighed and put his head in his hands. “I know this isn't the first time this week,” he said. “I know that it's at least two or three nights most weeks, and if it's not,” he gestured at the mess of chocolate on the table and on Robert, “this, you sneak out and go to a drive through.”

The kitchen was silent for a while.

“We said we'd both stop gaining,” Liam said eventually. “We said we'd try and lose weight.”

“You've put on weight too,” Robert said. He felt like a child arguing about missing out on play time. He couldn't stop thinking about the rest of the cake in front of him. He wanted to lick the chocolate off his fingers.

“I've put on fifteen, maybe twenty pounds,” Liam said. “I'm not saying I've been great,” he admitted. “But I've cut down. That's not crazy for a year.” He paused for a while. “How much do you think you've put on?” he asked.

Robert shrugged. “Yeah, probably the same,” he said. He could feel his cheeks redden, and hoped it was dark enough that Liam couldn't see. “It's not like I weigh myself very often.”

Liam put his face in his hands and leant on the table. “I found your grommr account,” he said.

Robert squirmed in his seat. “Well what were you doing on grommr then?” He winced even as he said it.

“I've got a fat fetish,” Liam replied. “What are you doing on there?” When he got no reply, he continued. “It said you're three hundred and forty pounds.” He picked up a small fragment of the leftover destroyed cake and ate it slowly. “Is that right?”

“I guess,” Robert said.

“I don't think this is working,” Liam said.

“I know,” Robert said. “I'll do better. I'll try and lose some weight, I know I've taken it too far now, I’ll join a gym and-”

“No,” Liam cut him off. “I don't think this is working. Us. I think… I think we should break up.”

-

“You okay buddy?” Dylan asked.

Robert shrugged and took a swig of his beer. He belched. “Why wouldn't I be okay?”

Dylan sighed. “Rob, I… I mean look at yourself. This isn't okay.”

Robert scratched his beard. He'd maybe let it grow a bit too long, and he'd not had a chance to buy any clothes that fit in the past couple of months, but what was he supposed to do? He'd been busy, and it's not like he could just walk into shops and pick up his size anymore. “It's just work and stuff,” he said. “And with the move, my appearance hasn't been my top priority.”

“Yep, and I completely get that,” Dylan placated. His voice was bright and soft and his hands were spread open like he'd presumably heard in some how to handle difficult conversations podcast. “But I don't think we’re talking about just your appearance here. You have… fuck me Rob, you've gotten really fucking big.”

Robert scratched his gut and tried to pull his t-shirt down. “It's just the break-up,” he said. “And you've said it before, we've got shit genetics for getting fat.”

“Look, I'm not trying to have a go,” Dylan said. He slapped his own gut. “I'll be the first to admit that I'm not exactly in my prime. I don't think I've been to the gym since Livy’s been born, probably not great. Shit happens, and I get that the break-up hasn't helped, and work, and yep, absolutely, we did not win the genetic lottery in our family for twenty-eight inch waists but… I mean this isn't exactly the break-up, is it? It's been going on a lot longer than that, but at least, fuck, at least I used to think you were happy with it. Happy with Li-” Robert shot him a dirty glare. “Well, whatever, happy, anyway.”

“Who says I'm not happy?” Robert asked. He drained his beer bottle and stood to get another. When he returned he collapsed back into his seat and Dylan winced. “Yeah, I put on relationship weight with Liam too, but that wasn't, you know, that wasn't anything to do with… We just weren't, I don't know, compatible anymore. I know I'm fat, I know I’m stressed, and that I've been doing better, but I'm fine. You can drop it.”

“Look, let's…” Dylan looked around the room as if searching for something to help him. “I weighed myself the other day, eighteen stone. Not proud to be fatter than dad these days, but you know, there it is. How much are you weighing?” He looked Robert up and down. “Over twenty stone?” He hesitated. “Twenty-five?” He said it as if he couldn't believe anyone could weigh so much.

Robert shrugged. “Twenty-seven maybe.” He actually thought it might be a bit more.

“Jesus fucking Christ Robby,” Dylan exclaimed. “No, sorry, I don't mean- that's not, you know, it's fine, bodies come in all different- but fucking hell Rob that's… Twenty seven stone!” he cried. “That's not just relationship weight, is it? That's not break-up weight or stress weight or shit genetics that’s…” He took a deep breath and clasped his knee. “Do you like it?”

Robert stared at him. “Like what?”

“Look, no judgement,” Dylan said. “Vanessa says she likes, you know,” he shook his own gut for emphasis. “The belly. She even feeds me up a bit sometimes, I think, and I'm not exactly turning down bigger portions. I know it's a thing. I even get it a bit. But, I mean Rob. You can tell me.” He reached out and grasped Robert's knee. “Is it intentional? Even just a little bit? At least if, fuck, if I knew you were doing it on purpose, that you liked how fucking big you'd gotten I could… I could stop worrying about you fucking losing it. Like, I'm going to worry about your heart giving way, yeah, fine, but I can't be dealing with worrying about you being depressed or needing help and… And if something happened and I'd not done anything. Not after mum.” He started fidgeting with his collar, a nervous habit he'd had since school.

“Yeah,” Robert said quietly. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I'm into it. It's been, you know, on purpose. Mostly. You don't have to worry about that stuff. I'm not going to, you know.”

“Thank fuck,” Dylan sighed. “I mean, not thank fuck. It's still pretty fucking weird if I'm being honest, but I'm glad that you're, I don't know, not happy I guess, I know you've got other, whatever. I'm glad this isn't some insane compulsive episode or… I mean I've been imagining loads of stuff.” He downed his beer and breathed shakily. “So Liam was into it too? That's how you two met? Some freaky gay kink club?”

“What? No. Fuck off,” Robert said laughing. “Liam was into it, yeah, but he uhh, well he actually introduced me to it. I went along with it for a bit and then… I don't know, at some point I started liking it.”

Dylan nodded. “I get it. Like, I know I'm not supposed to be liking how fat I've gotten but there's something about it, I guess,” he said. “So what happened with you and Liam? You realised you only had the fat thing in common?”

Robert sighed. “No, we were… fuck. We were fairly perfect for each other. He got, I don't know, jealous about how big I was…” He took a drink and closed his eyes. “No. It wasn't just him. I turned into a knobhead about it.”

“Turned into a knobhead?” Dylan asked with a laugh.

“Oh fuck off,” Robert said. “I got, I don't know. There was a lot going on. I felt like I was doing this huge thing for him, but then I started to like it, and… At some point I managed to make it all about me. And if I pretended I still didn't like it I could still make out I was making this noble sacrifice, but really I was just completely ignoring him. And I think, you know, he did get pretty jealous at one point, but I didn't help. Made it into this weird competition.”

“Well you've got me beat at least,” Dylan said. He reached over to pat Robert's arm. “Here, I've got to go to town tomorrow. I'm not exactly fitting into my work shirts myself these days, how about we go together? Get you some stuff that actually covers that gut.”

“Fuck off,” Robert said, laughing.

“No, I'm serious, Vanessa's actually said she won't let you back round if you're not covered up again,” Dylan said. “You're scaring Livy. And the dog. Come on, we’ll make a day of it.”

“You do know I can't exactly just pop into Marks and Sparks and pick up a jumper, don't you? Most places stop at three XL if you're lucky.”

“No, come on,” Dylan insisted. “There's that plus size place in the Arndale, and Go Outdoors has a sale on, they'll have a tent that'll fit you.”

“Oh fuck off!” Robert laughed. “Yeah, go on then, I'll come along.” He drained his beer bottle. “Thanks, Dyl. Seriously. This has been… It's been good.”

Dylan shrugged. “What am I here for, eh? I'm just sorry I didn't mention it ten fucking stone ago.”

-

Robert huffed as he found his seat and squeezed himself into it. He hated how cinemas made you pay extra for supposedly premium seats, only for them to still not be big enough. He settled himself in, sorting his collection of drinks and snacks.

“Robert? Is that you?” Robert looked up to see a man significantly smaller than him, but still undeniably fat.

“Liam?” he replied.

“Oh god,” Liam said. “I’ll find another seat, don't worry, it doesn't matter.”

Robert patted the seat next to him. “Don't be silly,” he insisted. “It'll be nice to catch up during the trailers. Besides,” he looked around at the rapidly filling seats around them. “It's the opening weekend of Paddington vs Barbie 2: Paddington's Revenge, I'm not sure there’ll be any spare seats to move to.”

Liam looked around, sighed and sat down.

“You here with anyone?” Robert asked.

Liam shook his head. “The first one went right over my head the first time I watched it, I decided to come without any distractions.”

“Same,” Robert agreed. “And after it won all those Oscars I knew I should come see this one quick before anyone spoiled it for me.” He surveyed Liam for a bit. “How've you been, anyway?”

Liam smiled. “Good, yeah. Lots of the same, you know,” he said. “Not much to report.” He hesitated for a moment. “Still very much on the gain train.”

“I noticed!” Robert laughed. He reached over and poked Liam's gut where it spilled out over his belt. “How much are you clocking in at these days?”

“Two-seventy,” he said proudly. “I'm wanting to put a bit of a push on before Christmas, get over twenty stone, maybe.”

“Nice!” Robert said, slapping Liam's side. “Well, it suits you. Always did.”

“How about you?” Liam asked. “I noticed you've lost all the weight I forced onto you.”

Robert laughed and shook his own gut that spilled out towards his knees. “Yeah, I couldn't stand it, you know, who'd be fat?” he joked. “I'm about four-seventy, maybe four-eighty these days.”

Liam whistled. “Wow,” he said. “That's incredible. Like, I thought I was fat but you're another two hundred pounds on top of that.”

“You are fat,” Robert said warmly. “I'm just a lot fatter.”

“A whole decently chubby person fatter, in fact,” Liam pointed out.

“I like that,” Robert said laughing; his whole body shook with the action. “You know, I eventually admitted to myself that I probably am a gainer after all.”

“Probably a gainer, wow,” Liam said. “That must have been a difficult conclusion to come to.” He put a finger underneath one of Robert’s moobs and lifted it before letting it drop and watching the ripples spread across the larger man's body.

“Yeah, well, you know, a pretty great guy introduced me to the whole thing,” Robert said.

Liam smiled sadly. “So have you been seeing anyone or…?”

“Not really,” Robert replied. “I meet up with some feeders occasionally but, they're not, you know. It's not the same.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Liam agreed.

“So are you?” Robert asked. “Seeing anyone or anything?”

Liam shook his head. “Some dates and umm… no. No. Not seeing anyone.”

“I'm sorry,” Robert said. “For everything. For… I got selfish. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and I turned it into this selfish fucking…”

“I'm sorry too,” Liam said. “It wasn't just you. I asked you to do it for me then didn't like it when it turned out you actually enjoyed it, which is pretty fucked up of me. We could have talked about it more. Properly I mean.” He looked around. “Listen, all these people listening in are clearly finding our conversation very fucking weird, and I can't really be bothered with all this art-house stuff anyway. Do you want to just go get something to eat?”

Robert looked down the full row. “Getting out might be a bit of an ordeal. I'm not really built for squeezing past people these days,” he said.

“Sounds hot,” Liam replied. “You in?”

Robert laughed. “Yeah, okay. Dinner sounds nice.”

-

Liam licked the last of the chocolate off of his fingers as Robert lapped up his cum.

“Happy three hundred pounds babes,” Robert said as he leant up.

Liam struggled to sit up. “Your turn now,” he said.

Robert shook his head. “This is your night. Big celebration,” he said. “You don't have to do anything.”

“I want to,” Liam insisted. “Besides, we've got a whole other cake and I’m stuffed.”

“Oh I'll eat the cake,” Robert said. “But you don't have to suck me off.

“You're sure?” Liam asked.

Robert smiled. “It's fine, you take a nap to digest everything, I'll go clean up,” he said. “As long as you're happy, I'm happy.”

[glitterybombshell]

Jj Maybank is a pervert. His gross and he’d take any opportunity to touch his pretty best friend.

Warnings: Suggestive (18+), Pervert!JJ x Reader, Manipulation Tactics, Groping

It starts off with small touches. Maybe he’d give your waist an extra long squeeze when your reach in to hug him. Savouring the feeling of your tight body. It gets worse. Small squeezes on your waist would soon turn into him grabbing two handfuls of your ass. “Hotdamn!You really carrying all this back here babe?” He’d play it off as normal, he was super convincing after all. So you’d just brush it off.

One particularly hot day your naively prancing around the chateau in nothing more than a bikini top and a pair of shorts that were right up your ass. It’s not right for you to be doing this to him. His on John bs couch watching you jump around while he palms his dick super oblivious. He doesn’t care if u find him doing it— he’d just play it off anyways and plus its not his fault. “Wanna watch a movie next to me sweetie?” He’d ask just so he could feel your smooth skin again.

But his little obsession with touching you takes a sick turn when he starts manipulating you into letting him grope you. He’d show up at your place with faux tears in his eyes acting all hurt and sad maybe he’d mutter out something about his dad to really make your heart burn.

So obviously his sweet best friend is telling to him “C’mere” pulling him into her plush chest. He can’t help but smile a little while he conviently ‘cried’ into your full tits. His plan starts going exactly how he imagined it now that you’re asking if he needed “anything at all.” All of a sudden his ears are perking up and his eyes are getting all wide from excitement. He’d be quick to wipe his tears with the back of his hand.

“Anything huh?” He’d ask trying to hide the smile creeping onto his face.

He’d convince you to let him feel you up, “just a little” he’d say so he could feel better. He was just so upset.

Now he had you right where he wanted, groping your tits from behind while you made him a cup of tea. After all, who were you to deny a friend in need? “This makes me feel a wholeee lot better” he’s comment while he greedily kneaded the fat of your breasts. “Your like an angel. Helping me like this” he’d say like you were doing charity work.

When his finished with the little act he put on, he’d leave your house all giddy and happy.

“Soo, same time next week?” He’d ask even though he didn’t need confirmation from you. He’d feel you up again. He’d make sure of it. Jj Maybank is gross. Let him be gross.

A/n!

I think I should become a writer on here I’m enjoying this wayyy to much

[megumiluvv]

I Slept With My Brother’s Babysitter

Includes: Choso x (fem)Babysitter reader, new relationship (like an hour old), kissing, lots. Choso plays with reader’s boobs for a little, boob kissing, nipple biting (yeowch), reader’s boobs aren’t a specific size, body worship, Choso is uncut, handjob/fingering (both receiving), oral (both receiving), praise (always, it’s zero writing🙄), protected sex, like three orgasms, aftercare (yippee!!), sillies in love.

Masterlist

Read Part One Here!

Word Count: ~3k

A/n: Yayyyy, hopefully, this is good! As the title and “includes” mentions, this is smut, so if you don’t want to read that with this au, please skip over!! I’m unsure if I will write a male reader counterpart (I apologize if I don’t), but I hope you enjoy this! As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! (I love reading your tags) I think I like boobs. Please ignore how this is like, 2-3 months late, I had a huge slump and then got really busy (_ _;) this is BARELY proofread, I let Grammarly do most of the work :P

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎︎︎〰︎〰︎〰︎︎❀〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

The moment Choso’s apartment door clicks shut, you’re pinned against the wall as he presses his lips to yours, hands reaching to lock the door. He holds your waist and you whine into his mouth when he lowers them to squeeze at your hips.

Choso hears the desperate noise and freezes, looking at you. “I… I liked that noise…”

His mumbles make you blush, and you two kiss more. “Can’t-” kiss “-just say that, dummy…”

“Can’t say what?” He pulls back, oblivious to how easily you get embarrassed.

“… Never mind, keep kissing me.”

He happily accepts that and squeezes your hips again as your lips lock for another time. Your tongues swap spit and you two stumble to his bedroom, where he finally pulls away again, much to your disappointment. You frown and chase his lips as he kneels to untie your shoes and carefully pull them off your feet.

“You are so absolutely gorgeous, you know that?”

“…You are embarrassing…”

“Do my words bother you?”

“No, they fluster me…”

He chuckles and kicks off his own shoes, carefully reaching to take off his shirt. You watch with hungry eyes and he just laughs more.

“Waiting for something?”

“I- no! …Okay, maybe.”

He laughs and takes off his shirt to show off his toned torso. You’ve seen Choso’s body a few times before when he comes out of the shower with only a towel around his waist when you watch Yuji, and of course, you can’t help but sneak a few glances. He noticed this, obviously, but would never tell you that. He reaches to undo your cute top, making sure it’s set aside carefully, and then unclasps your bra with ease.

The moment Choso sees your supple breasts, he is awestruck. He carefully takes one into his hand and lightly squeezes, gauging your reaction. You seem to like it, so he gently massages your breasts, leaning to kiss your neck and suck marks that Yuji will innocently question when he comes home.

You whine into the crook of his neck as he sucks those pretty marks into your skin and caresses your hard, sensitive nipples. Your hands grip the waistband of his pants needily tugging them down. It’s now his turn to blush as his penis is already at full attention.

“Wow, does kissing get you that desperate?” You laugh.

“Don’t make fun of me…”

“Sorry, sorryyy, I think it’s kind of endearing.”

“How is this endearing?”

“Well, you got all excited because you were kissing me, right? Ever got that way from kissing someone else?”

“Uh, n-no, I haven’t…” He seems embarrassed by his excitement.

You just smile. “That makes me feel special.”

His heart flutters, he really can’t help it when your smile is so gorgeous and words so sweet. He kisses you more, holding you gently and carefully slipping off the rest of your clothes. He doesn’t move to touch you yet, and you don’t move to touch him, you two just continue to taste each other’s mouths while in the nude.

Choso’s hand slides down to your ass and he lightly squeezes where he has always wanted to. The skin is so soft, better than he has ever imagined and you hum against his lips, enjoying the possessive gesture. You lay back and he kisses down your chest, lightly trailing his hands up and down your body.

Choso gently kisses your torso, sucking little marks into the skin between your breasts. His free hand traces the areola on your right breast while he focuses his mouth on your left. Your pretty whines echo in his mind and fill the room, hands carding into his dark locks to lightly pull as he looks up at you with hooded eyelids. The gasp that escapes your throat when his teeth gently bite down on your nipple makes him dizzy.

“Ch-choso, I’m sensitive there!” You whine and tug harder at his hair.

He just hums and moves to the other nipple, giving the same attention to it. His saliva mixed with the air feels almost freezing on your poor nipple when he does switch. His hand tweaks and tugs at the reddened area, looking back up at you with love-drunk eyes. Choso reluctantly pulls himself away after a few minutes and returns to locking lips with you.

“You're so gorgeous,” he mumbles against your lips. “Beautiful body, soft lips, heavenly tits…”

“You haven’t even let me appreciate your body,” you whine, yet there’s no real complaint in your words.

He chuckles and traces your hips. “You’ll get there soon. Let me do one more thing, please.”

You nod. “Okay.”

He rubs your hips gently and drags his hands along your sides, watching your reactions. His rough thumbs feel so soft to you as if they were the only hands that existed. Or mattered, at least. Calloused fingers trace down your hips and slowly make their way to your mound, his middle finger tracing slow circles into your clit.

Satisfied hums escape your throat as he slowly yet expertly rubs your clit, spreading your folds and examining your pretty pussy. Soft kisses plant onto your hips and slowly make their way to your sweet core.

He almost cums just from tasting you. The dark-haired male licks a long stripe along your pussy before suckling your pretty clit. The gasp that escapes you makes it so much harder for him not to blow his load, you just taste so divine and sound so sweet. Your quiet hums quickly turn into desperate whines as Choso expertly eats you out. He ruts his hips against the sheets for some relief, focusing on sucking your sensitive little nub and making you release those cute noises.

“Y-yes, right there, Choso,” you whine and buck up into his mouth.

He just hums into your weeping cunt, the vibrations from his voice adding yet another sensation to your body. Choso’s hands grip your hips in place as he takes you with his tongue. His tongue spells his name repeatedly into your clit as he guides his middle finger to prod at your sopping hole. The male slowly pushes his middle and ring fingers in and curls them up, loving how your breath hitches as your body arches up more into his mouth when his fingers expertly find your g-spot.

He wants to laugh at how easily he understands your body. The slightest touch has your mind reeling and he is ecstatic to know he's doing that to you. He can feel how you’re squeezing his fingers and realizes that you’re already so close to your release. He doesn’t change his movements in fear that he’ll ruin it for you, just staying constant while you breathily chant his name like a mantra.

“Choso! Cho-so! I’m- I’m gonna-!!”

You don’t finish the sentence before your orgasm ripples through your body, back arching up and hands gripping his hair like a vice. His slurps are so messy now as he swallows all the sweet juices of your release. He slowly pulls his mouth away to look up at you, your chest heaving and fingers lightly pulling his hair and then soothing his scalp.

You come down from the high and he is full of grins. Starry-eyed and kissing your skin as if you were sculpted from the finest clay. You sit up after a few minutes and the both of you kiss again, you can taste yourself on his tongue. He happily lets your tongue invade his mouth, his body jolting with pleasure when your hand finds his dick.

You slowly slide your hand along the base of his cock. Your thumb helps move his foreskin back so you can tease the head. As you do so, his breath hitches, and a quiet groan escapes his throat, his forehead resting against your shoulder. Choso grips your hips and ruts his own into your hand.

“Your hand feels amazing,” he murmurs huskily, breathing heavily into your neck. “Don’t stop…”

“No? Not even if I want to suck it instead?” You whisper with a hint of teasing.

His cheeks flush and he groans softly. “Okay, but only if you’re doing that instead…”

You giggle and press a soft kiss against his lips before kneeling down to be level with his manhood. You press another kiss against the red tip of his cock before sliding your tongue along his length. His soft groans fill the room as your mouth envelops him, his hands tangling into your hair and guiding your head.

Choso swears he’s in heaven. Everything about you is so heavenly. The warmth of your mouth has him going crazy, he can only imagine how your other hole would feel.

“Oh, just like that,” he groans, very vocal compared to his usual reserved nature. “So good…”

It takes everything for him not to blow his load when you hum in response. You can taste it too, the pre that leaks out of him is oh-so perfect. Not too bitter, you can’t help but want more. He tries to pull away before he can cum, but you have such a pretty look on your face that he cums shortly after. Thick ropes reach down your throat and you pull away with a gasp shortly after swallowing.

Once Choso has come down from his high, he feels red reach his face and he clears his throat. “S-sorry, that was probably super gross…”

“No, no, it wasn’t bad at all.” You smile reassuringly and sit on his lap, careful not to stimulate his dick again. “I wanted to taste it.”

He’s super red now if he wasn’t already. “Ah, um, o-okay…”

“Need a break before we start all the… penetration stuff?” You blush a little.

“Yeah, just a little bit,” he mumbles and buries into your neck, planting soft kisses.

You press a kiss to his lips and get off his lap to look for condoms. “Where do you keep your condoms?”

“Uh, the one cabinet Yuji can’t reach. Bathroom, above the mirror.”

You head to the bathroom connected to his bedroom and get on your tiptoes to open the cabinet and grab a condom. You return to the bed and carefully put the rubber on him, apologizing when he hisses out of sensitivity. You giggle a little afterwards and he frowns and attacks you with kisses.

“Ack! Choso! Quiiiit!” You laugh and wrap your arms around him.

“Mwah, mwah, mmmmmwah!” He chuckles and presses soft kisses around your neck and jawline.

“Quit ittt!” You giggle more.

He pulls away after pressing a soft kiss to your lips and has the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen on him. You smile yourself and push his bangs out of his face. He hums and rubs your hips.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

“You’ve been saying that. I have no choice but to believe you.” You tease and kiss the corner of his lips.

“You should. I mean it.”

“Hm. So you’re the one who taught Yuji that honesty?”

“Ha, I guess, what’d he say?”

“He tells me all the time that I’m pretty.”

“He’s not wrong.”

“So do you and him talk about how pretty I am together?” You tease.

“Do you want more kisses?”

“Okay, okayyy…”

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then another. And another. The two of you make out again and he lifts you from his lap and lays you on your back against his bed. You tangle your fingers into his hair and hum against his lips, body jolting in surprise when his tip grazes your clit. He chuckles at that.

“Sensitive?”

“A little,” you mumble into his skin.

“But good enough for me to start?”

“Mhm, just don’t cum too early.” You tease and he nips at your bottom lip.

“Don’t plan on cumming before you.”

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman?”

He scoffs at your tease and carefully slides his rubber-coated dick along your slick to use as lube before sliding into your warmth. Choso lets himself stay there for a moment and also allows you to adjust to his intrusion. You hold onto the man’s shoulders as he rubs your sides soothingly.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“Mhm, just need a second,” you mumble back.

“Just tell me when, I'll move slow.”

After a few moments of waiting, you nod. Choso moves his hips forward to be fully inside you, mumbling an apology when your nails dig into his skin. He waits again for your nod, which doesn’t come for a while. When it does, he slowly moves back until he is almost fully out of you, then slides back in, angling up just a bit to graze along your g-spot.

The gasp it elicits from you makes him dizzy. It's like he magically got drunk during dinner because you're constantly making him so light-headed with every little thing you do. He gradually picks up the pace and his hips now move a bit faster, the angle he's been at making you just as dizzy as he is.

Soft moans fill the room, as well as his quiet grunts and the squeak of his bed. The bed frame makes quiet thumps against the wall that separates your apartment from his, so he's not worried about a noise complaint. He kisses marks against your chest and holds your hips firmly yet not hard enough to bruise.

“Oh, right there, yeah, y-yeah, feels so good, Choso.” your breathless whispers mix with your moans.

“Feels good?” he repeats and smiles against your skin.

“Mhm-- fuck --feels amazing…”

He groans and continues his gradual increase in thrusts, eyes rolling back at how responsive you get. Your soft mewls drive him absolutely insane as he moves even faster inside you and spreads your legs wider (if even possible). Your nails dig even deeper into his shoulders, clawing at his back because he just feels so good, and he’s just so deep, it is just so right.

He can feel just how close you are and it's driving him nuts. He needs to feel you cum around him, and needs to know how it feels, he's been dreaming of this moment without even realizing it. But he can tell you still need something to help you teeter over the edge. He carefully rubs your clit with his thumb, not going too fast and not going too slow to keep you from orgasm. And he talks you through it the whole time.

“Gotta cum for me, pretty girl, I need you to cum. Yeahhh, I know-- fuck --know you're close, just let go f’me, okay? That's it, good fucking girl-- fuck, you squeeze so tight…”

You climax with a moan of his name and your nails drag along his back, legs squeezing around him and shaking slightly. He continues to thrust, the intervals becoming sloppy as he reaches his own orgasm, hips finally stilling when he overstimulated himself.

Choso carefully pulls out of you and kisses your forehead, moving your hair that is stuck to it out of the way. He grins and kisses your cheeks and lips as he slides the condom off his softening cock.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your skin. “Ready to shower?”

“Hold me for a little before we do,” you whine.

He chuckles and lays beside you, holding you on top of him and running his hand along your back. Choso's hand traces shapes into your hips as your head leans on his chest. His lips gently and repeatedly press against your forehead as he whispers praises to you.

“You are such an angel, so gorgeous and sweet, even when you're a tease…”

“Mhmm,” you hum back, too tired to actually form a reply.

“And you're just so fucking perfect, I love it.”

When he doesn't hear your half-reply and instead only hears your soft breathing, he smiles and carefully pulls the blanket over you. Choso, however, gets out of bed and showers, putting on fresh boxers before warming a bath up for you. He re-enters his room and carefully scoops you up, smiling softly when you wake up but don't really protest the bath.

Choso lathers your body carefully in some soap you had bought him as a neighborly welcome gift when he and Yuji moved in. You just sit in the tub and relax.

“Tired?” he mumbles.

“Yeah, I was almost asleep…”

“I wanted to get you clean before you slept. Can't be too upset.”

“Interrupting my beauty sleep, how rude.” you joke and poke your tongue out.

“Come on, you can return as soon as I dry you off.” he laughs and rinses your body.

“Fine, but you have to make me breakfast tomorrow.”

“Of course, I planned on that anyway.”

He dries you off and gives you some boxers and his t-shirt to sleep in, then lays in bed with you. You cuddle into him and Choso smiles while holding you even closer.

“You know you're most likely gonna be sore tomorrow, yeah?”

“Probably, but it was so worth it in the moment.”

You both laugh and Choso kisses your head. “Get some sleep.”

“Mkay,” you mumble and quickly fall asleep, quiet breathing filling the room. He could get used to this.

Taglist: @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

@mediokerrv @flooftoof @dazaisfavgf @mysteriaqueen @theirlgarfield

[loveesiren]

Baby Daddy (Pt. 2)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

A/n: Here's part two! Let me know if you guys want more to this story :)

Warnings: Birth, emergency c-section, language, fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+

You leaned your head on Rafe's shoulder, his hand rubbing your swollen belly as you were handed yet another gift.

You were grateful for this baby shower that Rose had put together but you couldn't help the fact that you were absolutely exhausted.

You were in no way prepared for how much pregnancy took a toll on your body. Especially in the third trimester.

You held the tiny pink blanket up. The soft fabric was lined with silk and it was absolutely adorable.

"And when you finally tell us her name, we'll get it stitched on there. Along with her birthday." Sarah said with a smile as her and John B watched you examine their gift.

"It's perfect," You say. "And her name will be revealed once she's born." You chuckle.

"I can't believe you're making us wait," John B whines, rolling his eyes.

"She's gonna be here any day now," Rafe smiled, looking down at you. "And this has been great but Y/N really needs to get some rest."

"But there is still more presents!" Rose whines.

"And she will open them later," Rafe scolds. "She's exhausted."

You were practically falling asleep in Rafe's arms.

"Alright, fine," Rose says as she stands up. "For anyone who would like to continue celebrating, join me in the back yard!"

John B and Sarah stay behind, cleaning up the mess of wrapping paper that littered the living room.

"I'm going to take her up to bed," Rafe said as he stood up and pulled you off the couch.

"Rafe, no, too fat." You grumbled as you felt him try to lift you. "I can do it."

"Baby-"

"I can do it!"

John B and Sarah laugh as you fall back on the couch, obviously too tired to move.

Rafe sighs before bending over and scooping you into his arms.

"Rafe, no-"

"Shhhh," He says, picking you up effortlessly. "Uhm, do you guys need me to-"

"Go," Sarah says with a smile. "We got it."

Rafe offers a small smile before carrying you upstairs to the room the two of you shared. Rose had turned the guest room next to Rafe's room into a nursery. The two rooms sat in a part of the house that was mostly cut off from the rest. It was the perfect little corner for the two of you and your baby while you saved up for your own place.

Rafe laid you down on the bed and pulled the covers over the two of you as he crawled in next to you and cradled your belly. "Get some rest, Mama." He said, placing a kiss on your temple.

"Rafe..." You whispered.

"Yes?"

You could feel his fingers trail over your skin. The way he cared for you and was so gentle and excited for your baby, you couldn't wait anymore. You had to tell him.

"I love you." You say as you look up to meet his eyes.

His breath caught in his throat as he registered your words. "W-what?"

You giggled. "I love you, Rafe. You're amazing. And you're going to be an amazing dad. I know we've been doing this whole pregnancy thing in kind of a weird way but I'd kind of like to be a real a fami-"

Rafe pressed his lips to yours, caressing your cheek as he deepened the kiss. "I've been in love with you for so long," He admitted against your lips. "I want all of this. I want us. I want our baby. I want to be a family."

You smiled at his response. He'd changed so much since you found out you were pregnant. He quit coke. He worked hard. He was constantly at your side making sure you had everything you needed. You practically had to pull him off you so you could go check on John B.

You could see his eyes swelling with tears. "What's wrong, baby?" You asked as you cupped his cheek.

"Nothing," He shook his head as a tear fell from his eye. "I just have my dream girl and I get to meet my fucking daughter soon. My life is perfect."

You couldn't help but tear up at his words. You ran your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder. It wasn't long before the two of you drifted off to sleep.

———-

"AHHHHH!" You screamed as you shot up in bed. "Oh my fucking God!"

"What is it baby?!" Rafe asked eagerly as he quickly flipped on the lamp.

"It fucking hurts!" You spit. "Rafe...Rafe I think I'm contracting." You're barely able to get the words out.

"Oh, fuck. Okay!" He yells as he hops out of bed. He opens the door and yells into the hallway. "Dad! Rose!"

"Fuck, FUCK!" You scream.

"Okay, hold on baby, I have your bag." Rafe runs to his closet and pulls out the bag he had packed for you for when the time finally came. "Rose!" He screams again.

"I'm coming! What is it?" She says as her and Ward enter the room. "Oh, okay!"

Rose is by your side instantly, helping you off the bed.

"Ah! I can't-" You say as you fall to the floor. "I can't walk, it hurts so much."

"I got you baby," Rafe says, once again scooping you into his arms with minimal effort.

"Ward, start the car!" Rose commands as she grabs your bag and you all head downstairs.

Rafe climbs into the back seat with you. You dig your nails into his arm as another contraction invades your body.

"It's okay, sweet girl." Rafe says as he presses his lips to your forehead. "Just breathe with me, okay?" He holds your swollen belly up, relieving some of the pressure so you're able to catch your breath.

You can feel the car speeding to the hospital. You can hear Ward and Rose arguing in the front seat. You can feel Rafe wrapped around you, whispering sweetly into your ear. But you couldn't help the black haze that was washing over your vision as you lost consciousness.

"Hey, hey!" Rafe said as he lightly tapped your cheek. "Y/N, baby, stay with me!"

"We're almost there!" Ward says.

"She's unconscious!" Rafe screams.

_____________

Your eyes fluttered open. It was almost painful to keep your eyelids up.

Large windows lined the room, letting in the sunrise. Purple skies as the sun made it's way into view.

You felt so confused. You placed a hand on your belly. No bump. You instantly shot up, panicking at your missing baby bump you had grown so used to.

"Rafe!" You screamed.

"Hey, hey!" Rafe said as he came out of the bathroom, bouncing a tiny human in his arms. "Calm down baby, I'm here. We're here." He smiles as he sits on the bed next to you.

"Is that...is that my daughter?" You ask, taking in her tiny features. She had Rafe's eyes and your lips. A perfect mix of the two of you.

Rafe smiles, moving to place her in your arms. "You did so good, mama."

You hold her gently, tears filling your eyes as she instantly looked for your nipple. You happily fed her, gushing over the fact she knew you were her mother.

"I-I don't even remember."

"It was complicated," Rafe begins, rubbing one hand over your leg and one over her tiny head. "Emergency c-section. Thought I was gonna lose you. But you were so strong."

You couldn't help but cry. A tear falling on your child's cheek but Rafe brushed it away.

"She's been so fussy until now. She doesn't like the bottle." Rafe chuckles.

"How long have a been out?"

"Two days,"

You shudder, realizing you missed the first two days of your child's life.

Rafe pulls himself up to sit behind you. You lean back against his chest as you continue to feed your child. He runs his fingers up and down your arms and places kisses on your temples.

"I love you so much," He whispers.

"I love you too," You said as you felt yourself drift back to sleep. Rafe brought his arms around you to help hold your baby as she finished nursing.

When you woke up again the sun was setting. Rafe was draped over you, snoring softly. Your daughter in a bassinet beside you, sleeping peacefully.

You heard a knock at the door. Rafe shot up, rubbing his eyes as he tried to process what was going on.

"Hmmm, okay." He said, half asleep as he stumbled towards the door.

You felt bad. You knew he'd been doing all of this on his own while you were out. He needed sleep.

"Hey," Rafe said as your family members piled in. You were grateful for the large room.

Rose and Wheezie carried flowers and gifts, placing them on the dresser by the window. Ward followed behind them.

John B and Sarah came in after them with balloons, setting them to the side as they quickly ran to see your baby.

"Jesus," Rafe grumbled as he laid back down beside you. "M' sorry baby. They wouldn't let anyone but me in until today."

You pet his hair and place a kiss on his head as he rests against your shoulder. "It's okay, babe."

You were wide awake now. Rafe tried his best to sit up and interact but you could tell he wasn't going to last long.

John B held your baby as everyone else crowded around him. She was smiling up at him and it made your heart melt.

"So," Sarah asked. "What's her name?"

You turned to Rafe and smiled. He smiled and rubbed his eyes. "Her name is Juliette Lilith Cameron." He announced.

All the girls gushed over the name. John B smiled down at his niece, bouncing her happily.

Ward came around the side of the bed and placed a hand on Rafe's shoulder. "Congratulations, son. You're going to be a great father."

Rafe smiles at his dads words. "Thanks, dad." He gushes. You can't help but tear up. You knew how much Rafe wanted his dad to be proud of him.

After everyone had a turn holding Juliette, Rafe finally ushered them all out, claiming you and baby needed your rest. But in all honesty, you and Juliette were fine. Rafe was the one that needed a break.

After you nursed Juliette and laid her down to sleep, you and Rafe snuggled in your hospital bed, eating mediocre hospital food and watching Family Feud.

"Can I get you anything, baby?" Rafe mumbled against your shoulder, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"Get some sleep, my love." You whisper, placing a kiss on his head.

"Gotta take care of my girls first," He mumbles.

"We're good," You promise him. "We need you to be well rested."

Rafe hums into your skin, wrapping his arm tighter around you but not tight enough to hurt you since you were still healing.

"Love my girls," Was the last thing he said before he drifted off to sleep.

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[mixelation]

i want to post something so here's some async. takes place after minato ambushes tori in her hotel

it's little disjointed because some of the scene were written ages ago, and i definitely want to smooth over and flesh some of it out. also there's a [...] break which is where kushina tells minato he is an idiot in various ways and gives him advice. however i have not written it yet

xXx

Minato went home and collapsed onto his futon, a huge smile on his face. That had been fun. It was nice, to face off against someone when the fate of Konoha didn’t hang in the balance. Like, yes, Reina had come closer to killing him than anyone had since that incident with Kushina and the Kyuubi, but also if she’d succeeded, it wasn’t like he’d be losing ground for Konoha or something. Minato was good, but he wasn’t so arrogant as to think he was irreplaceable to Konoha. 

She didn’t even try to kill me, Minato thought, folding his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. That’s progress, right?

He’d figured she’d definitely have something up her sleeve when he showed up again, which is why he’d gone in kunai first. He’d had no idea what that would be, and he’d been excited for the surprise. All the fuinjutsu he’d found from Reina was insane looking and unique to her. He’d had no way to predict how she thought or what she was even capable of. If he’d hesitated again this time, she would have had that barrier up around her before he’d be able to do anything about it, and then who knew what sort of things she’d be able to do from the safety of her little bubble. 

Maybe I should have let her try, Minato thought, his stomach doing a giddy little flip at the idea. That’s what a good friendly spar was about, wasn’t it? It wasn’t about winning. It was about testing yourself against someone else, and letting them test out their own techniques against you. 

Minato did like winning, though, especially when his opponent was someone he actually had to try against. He had felt good in the moment, to have seen her trap and snuck around it. 

But he’d… somehow, after reviewing what had happened in his head, he felt a little guilty. He remembered how fast Reina’s heartbeat had been the whole time he’d had her pinned, how she’d been distrustful even after he’d used his most people-pleaser voice to promise he didn’t want to hurt her. 

Had he scared her? Maybe. He hadn’t really thought about it, when it was happening. He’d just spent weeks thinking about her face, how confident she’d been in her own victory. He’d forgotten how nervous civilians were around ninja. He could barely wrap his head around the idea that someone like Reina might be just as nervous about ninja as the next civilian. 

He’d wanted to ask more questions about her… experiments, or whatever she was doing. But he could tell she was upset despite him using his most charming smile, and so he’d left her. 

Minato’s plan, then, was to give Reina a week or so to calm down while he ran a couple of missions. He’d stop by the Yamanaka flower shop and get some advice on what type of flower he could give to a young woman he wanted to be kindling a friendship with. He had never needed to know it for any of his roles as a shinobi, but Minato knew kunoichi all got trained in flower language, and so he’d often hear women complaining or gossiping about faux-pas their boyfriends made. He’d gotten his fairshare of bouquets from admirers and then had Kushina decode them for him, a flirty little game they used to play before… well. 

Minato had no idea if Reina would know anything about flowers, but he wanted something pretty without accidentally telling her I love you passionately forever please marry me also you smell bad or something. 

As the days passed, however, Minato couldn’t help but check in on where her Hiraishin moved. He gave markers to teammates all the time temporarily, and Jiraiya usually had one on him, but… 

It was kind of exciting, to know where Reina was. He had so many questions about her, about how she saw the world and where she was going. Being able to concentrate briefly and see that she’d moved a few kilometers gave him no answers, and yet made him feel like he was learning something about her. 

And then, before he could ask anyone about flowers, one day Minato realized that the mark he had attached to Reina hadn’t moved in a while. This wasn’t unusual. There were a lot of reasons someone wouldn’t move around a lot, like sleep or sitting around for some reason. But he’d checked in on her a couple times a day, and she hadn’t moved in a very long time. Even if she was hunched over a new seal to kill him for hours at a time, she’d at least get up and move around eventually. 

Could she maybe not move? Had she been captured? Minato, to his own surprise, found himself worried. She was his project. And she was deadly clever, but she was still just a soft little civilian. 

Minato teleported to the marker. Instead of dropping in on Reina, he found himself in the middle of the air. His own marker trembled in the wind in front of him. This wasn’t at all what he had expected. 

Gravity worked faster than his brain. Minato was falling. The ground was so, so far away. It took him a couple seconds to realize what had happened, and he was lucky he was so high in the air, because he had time to think to teleport again. 

Hirashin kept the user’s momentum. Minato crashed painfully into the ground, hundreds of kilometers away in a Fire Country forest. His arm slammed down to break his fall, and pain seared through him on impact. 

She fractured my arm, Minato thought dully, sitting on the ground and staring down at his injured arm. His heart pounded in his chest, his blood flooded with adrenaline. 

The marker he’d gone to was definitely the one he’d stuck on Reina, because he’d been monitoring her. He’d followed her path. But it… she’d somehow removed it from her body and stuck it to sealing paper, and then hung the paper over the cliff. He… he had no idea how she’d done that. It wasn’t supposed to be possible for other people to remove his markers. 

Usually when he teleported to a marker sight-unseen, he was better prepared for surprises. He normally would have reacted faster. But “floating in the middle of the air” had been so far out of what he thought was possible right up until that moment, that he’d simply been unable to process it. 

His stomach squeezed oddly, making his toes curl in his sandals. 

Minato teleported back to the marker. Because he knew what to expect this time, he was able to keep his wits about him. He took two milliseconds to assess the situation: the paper with the mark hung by a fishing line, which in turn hung from a scraggly tree that had the misfortune of growing out from a tiny outcrop of rocks on a cliffside. The fishing line was over a meter long; he had no chance of grabbing hold of the tree, and without something to propel him sideways, he had no way to make contact with the cliff and use chakra to stop his fall. 

Minato grabbed the paper out of the air and teleported back to the forest, all before he’d built up enough momentum to injure himself on the landing this time. 

[...]

It took him over a week to find Reina again, partially because he took a mission in the middle of his hunt. Curly hair wasn’t common, and people noticed young women traveling alone, so her movements through towns weren’t hard to track, but he did have to do a ton of interviews. 

He was slowed down briefly where she appeared to wander off down a little-used road and switch to camping. Minato was as good a tracker as the next jounin, but it wasn’t his specialty, and he sort of had to rewire his gut instincts to follow Reina. She wasn’t a ninja and she didn’t cover for herself the way a ninja would. She didn’t travel through trees, and her average speed was extremely low.

He didn’t approach her immediately when he found her in a tent set up a little ways off the road. He had, after all, promised her flowers. Flowers would also maybe soften the blow of her fury if she tried to kill him again… maybe. 

Did he want her to try killing him again? It did seem a bit exciting, but he also did truly want to just talk to her. 

Spring hadn’t quite hit the northern countries yet, but Minato knew things further south were likely to already be starting. He teleported through a few places deep in the southern Fire Country forests before he finally found a squat little tree, heavy with dark pink flowers. He pulled off a whole branch since, assuming he could charm Reina into not attempting to him again, he wanted to see her do something with its chakra, and more tree meant more chakra. They were azaleas, he was pretty sure. That seemed pretty safe and generic. 

Maybe she can help me with senjutsu, Minato thought absently, teleporting back to where he’d left a marker just outside of Reina’s camp. 

She did jump to her feet immediately when he stepped into the clearing. But there was no deadly trap, and she didn’t look upset. 

“Wow, you are persistent,” she said. “Did you actually bring me flowers?”

She stared at the branch in his hands, nonplussed. 

“You broke my arm,” Minato said brightly. 

Reina lifted the gaze from the flower to his face, her eyebrows raised. 

“Er, it’s okay,” Minato said. He shuffled his feet nervously. “I talked to my… female friend, and she pointed out that I probably shouldn’t have… marked you. If I wanted to be friends. Sorry.”

“...apology accepted,” Reina said slowly. “Sorry I tried to kill you again. Are those rhododendrons?”

She held out her hands, and Minato passed the branch over. 

“I think they’re azaleas?” Minato said.

“Rhododendrons are poisonous,” Reina said, a huge smile passing over her face as she turned the branch over in her hands. 

Cute, Minato thought, unbidden. This was followed by: Wait, what?

[chelseaknoo]

I thought of this funny idea.The reader and eminem are married and she's like a supermodel.What Marshall doesn’t know about her is that she has 2 other identical sisters making them triplets.The reader decides to prank Marshall ,making him think he's going insane while recording 🤣

Eminem x model! Reader

Plot:You Decide to Prank Your Rapper Husband with Your Twin Sisters.

As close as you are to your sisters, they’ve always been a huge part of your life, and you’ve shared everything together—except for this little secret. Now, you're feeling playful and want to prank Marshall with your sisters. You’ve been planning it for a while, coordinating with your sisters to make sure everything goes perfectly.

As the day of the prank approaches, you can’t help but smile, knowing that it’ll be a fun, lighthearted moment in your already exciting life with Marshall.

You walked up to him slowly, your bare feet making no sound against the tiled floor. With a slight tilt of your head, you let your lashes flutter, your lips curving into a playful smile. Standing close enough for the warmth of your body to brush against his arm, you reached out and lightly trailed a finger along his forearm.

“Marshall…” you murmured, your voice soft and sultry, as though the words themselves carried a secret. His eyes flicked from his phone to you, curiosity replacing his distraction.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for your robe to part slightly at the neckline, revealing a glimpse of lace. “I miss you.” Your tone was a blend of longing and mischief, every word laced with invitation.

With a gentle touch, you rested your hand against his chest, your eyes locking onto his. “Why don’t you come to bed with me?” you asked, your voice like silk itself, smooth and irresistible.

Marshall’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he locked his phone and set it down on the counter. His lips curved into a small smirk as he looked you over, his eyes lingering on the soft shimmer of your silk robe and the teasing glimpse of lace beneath it.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises this morning,” he said, his voice low and amused. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as though trying to appear unfazed. But you caught the flicker of interest in his gaze—he wasn’t fooling anyone.

You tilted your head, your lashes fluttering again. “I’ve been full of surprises since the day you met me,” you teased, letting your fingers trail down his chest slowly. “But I think you’ll like this one.”

Marshall chuckled softly, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Oh, I’m sure I will. But tell me something…” He leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours. “What’s got you in this kind of mood?”

You shrugged innocently, though the small, sly smile on your lips betrayed you. “Can’t a wife just miss her husband? Or do I need a reason to want to spend some time with you?”

Marshall let out a mock sigh of defeat, his hands resting at your waist. “You really know how to make a guy feel guilty, huh?”

“Guilty enough to follow me upstairs?” you asked, your tone playful but insistent as you tugged lightly on his shirt.

His smirk turned into a full grin as he took a step closer, his hands sliding to the small of your back. “Lead the way, Mrs. Mathers.

After you both walked upstairs, Marshall, unable to contain his desire, pushed you gently onto the bed. He began to kiss you passionately, his lips roaming all over your face, your mouth, expressing the love and hunger he felt for you in the moment. His hands slid over your body, his touch electrifying as he showered you with affection, making your heart race.

However, as things started to heat up, Marshall paused for a moment, his hand reaching towards the drawer to grab a condom. But to his surprise, he found that the drawer was empty. His brows furrowed in mild frustration, and he quickly pulled away from you, muttering a quiet curse under his breath. “Hold on, babe. I’ll be right back.”

He kissed you one last time before getting up, his eyes still filled with desire as he made his way to the closet downstairs to grab the box of condoms.

As Marshall opened the closet, rummaging through the shelves to find the box of condoms, he suddenly heard a voice that made him freeze in his tracks. "Hey, babe," came your usual flirty tone, playful and seductive, but it sounded as though it was coming from behind him. He turned around, expecting to see you standing there, but what he saw left him momentarily speechless.

There, standing in the doorway, was “you”—or at least, someone who looked exactly like you. She wore the same outfit you had on earlier, the same familiar smile, the same playful glint in her eyes. The resemblance was so uncanny that Marshall blinked in disbelief, his mind racing to make sense of what he was seeing. He had just left you in the bedroom, lying on the bed, and now here you were, standing in front of him, calling him “babe” with that same flirtatious tone.

Confusion swept over him as he tried to process the situation. His gaze shifted from the woman standing before him to the bedroom where he had left you moments ago. How could this be? Wasn’t she just lying there on the bed, her body warm and relaxed?

Before he could question it further, the woman who looked like you reached out and touched him, her hand lightly grazing his chest. "You look so good," she purred, her fingers trailing down his shirt as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. Marshall stood frozen, completely baffled. He couldn’t understand what was happening, but everything about her—her voice, her movements, even the way she called him "babe"—was so familiar.

In a state of confusion, he took a step back, his mind racing. What was going on? How could you be in two places at once? Had he lost track of what was happening? Was he dreaming? His thoughts were spinning as he tried to make sense of the impossible situation.

The woman who looked exactly like you stepped closer, her eyes locking with Marshall’s as she flashed a seductive smile. "So," she began, her voice soft and inviting, "how about we watch a movie together?" She raised an eyebrow, her playful tone making the suggestion sound more like a command than a casual offer.

Marshall’s heart skipped a beat, his confusion deepening. A movie?But just moments ago, you had asked him to come to bed with you, your words full of passion and desire. Now, this woman—who was supposed to be you—was suggesting something completely different. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Wait," he stammered, his mind racing. "But... didn’t you just say you wanted to go to bed?" He looked at her, still reeling from the sudden shift in behavior. It felt like something was terribly wrong, but everything about this woman mirrored you—her voice, her look, even the way she moved.

She chuckled softly, brushing off his confusion with a casual wave of her hand. "What are you talking about?" she asked with a coy smile, her tone almost mocking. "I didn’t say anything like that. Now come on, hurry up and follow me," she urged, her voice taking on a more insistent note. She gave him a playful nudge, guiding him toward the living room. "The movie’s waiting."

Marshall stood there, frozen for a moment, trying to process everything. Was he imagining things? Was he somehow caught in a strange, surreal moment where his own senses were betraying him? He had just been in the bedroom, and you had clearly asked him to come to bed. Now, this woman—this version of you—was acting as though nothing had happened, inviting him to do something completely different. It didn’t make sense.

His heart raced as he followed her, his mind reeling with questions. He wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The woman in front of him smiled again, leading him into the next room as if nothing unusual had occurred, leaving him with more questions than answers.

As Marshall walked with the woman who looked exactly like you, his mind was still spinning with questions. Suddenly, another figure appeared from the hallway, stopping him in his tracks. It was you—or so it seemed. This woman was identical to the first, wearing the same radiant smile, her voice dripping with flirtation as she stepped close and touched his arm.

"Hey, baby," she cooed, her fingers lightly brushing his bicep. "Let’s go shopping. I saw this jacket today that you’d look so sexy in." Her tone was playful, but her touch was lingering, her gaze locked on his.

Marshall’s eyes widened, and he took a half-step back, glancing between the two women. His brain struggled to keep up. "Wait... what the hell is going on here?" he muttered, his voice laced with disbelief. He looked at the second woman, then back at the first, his confusion mounting by the second. They were identical, down to every detail—their outfits, their voices, the way they smiled at him.

Before he could even try to untangle the madness, you appeared at the top of the stairs. "Marshall?" you called out, your voice laced with playful impatience as you made your way down. "What’s taking so long? I’ve been waiting for you." Your expression was cool and composed, as if you didn’t notice the two women standing in the hallway.

Marshall turned to you, relief flickering in his eyes—but it was short-lived. He gestured wildly at the two identical women. "Do you see this?" he asked, his voice an octave higher than usual. "What—how—" He was at a loss for words, his thoughts completely scrambled.

But you remained calm, brushing past the other two women as though they didn’t exist. "What are you talking about?" you asked innocently, pretending not to notice the chaos.

Marshall blinked, his head snapping between all three of you. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, his voice full of frustration and bewilderment. "How are there three of you? And why aren’t you saying anything about this?" he asked, pointing at you.

You simply shrugged, fighting back a smirk. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe. Maybe you’re just tired," you said, feigning innocence as you casually leaned against the banister.

Marshall groaned, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the impossible scene unfolding in front of him. "This... this isn’t normal," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "You can’t all be you."

The other two women grinned, each stepping closer to him, leaving him completely trapped in a whirlwind of confusion. Meanwhile, you stood back, struggling to keep a straight face as you watched your prank play out exactly as planned.

He turned to you, his eyes desperate. “You’re the real one, right? Please tell me you’re the real one.”

You bit your lip, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… maybe I am,” you said coyly, drawing out the moment. “Or maybe I’m not.”

Marshall groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This isn’t funny anymore!” he said, his voice muffled.

The three of you exchanged amused looks, barely able to hold in your laughter as the prank continued to unfold.

As Marshall stood there, completely overwhelmed, you and your sisters could no longer hold it in. Laughter erupted from all three of you, echoing through the hallway. It started as a soft giggle but quickly turned into full-blown, uncontrollable laughter, tears streaming down your faces as you clutched your sides.

Marshall blinked, his brows furrowing as he looked at each of you. “Wait, what—what’s so funny?” he stammered, his voice tinged with frustration and bewilderment. “What the hell is going on here?”

One of your sisters wiped a tear from her eye, barely able to contain herself. “Oh my god, his face,” she managed to choke out between laughs, pointing at him. “He looks like he’s seen a ghost!”

The other sister doubled over, clutching her stomach. “Marshall, you should’ve seen yourself! You were *so* confused!”

You, still laughing, finally stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest, trying to catch your breath. “Babe, calm down,” you said, your voice trembling with amusement. “It’s a prank. These are my sisters.”

Marshall’s jaw dropped, and he looked between the three of you again, his confusion slowly giving way to realization. “Wait... sisters?” he repeated, his voice rising. “You’re telling me there’s *three* of you?”

You nodded, grinning. “Yep. Identical triplets.” You gestured to your sisters, who stood there grinning like Cheshire cats. “I can’t believe I never told you. I figured it was time to introduce them... in our own way.”

Marshall blinked a few times, his brain still catching up. “Triplets? Are you kidding me? You mean to tell me this whole time I’ve been with you, and I never knew you had two carbon copies running around?”

Your sisters burst into laughter again, one of them playfully nudging his arm. “Carbon copies? Ouch, Marshall,” one of them teased. “We prefer ‘flawless originals.’”

The other sister chimed in, smirking. “Don’t take it too hard. She wanted to see how long she could keep it a secret. And well... this was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Marshall groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this. You seriously let me think I was losing my mind!” He looked at you, half-annoyed but mostly bewildered. “How long have you been planning this?”

You shrugged, a sly smile on your face. “A while. I knew it would get you good.”

Marshall sighed, shaking his head, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered. “All of you.”

One of your sisters grinned. “We take that as a compliment.”

The tension finally broke as Marshall let out a chuckle, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. “You got me,” he admitted, holding up his hands. “I’ll give you that. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily. Payback’s coming.”

You leaned in, wrapping your arms around him with a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure it is. But admit it—you’ll never forget this moment.”

Marshall shook his head, a bemused smile on his face as he glanced at your sisters. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Triplets. Unbelievable.”

[mrs-kodzuken]

hard to desire ⨟ kenma k.

chapter eight

bj lips love potions ft princess paparazzi

❝Undress me, caress me

I just want you to fuck me

My love can't take it no more

Gotta cast it on you❞

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Knowing that Kenma left you and didn't even send so much as a text message made you feel a bit queasy in your stomach. You both spent the entire night together, even with a few good days leading up to it, and yet he still went ghost.

To you, it made no sense whatsoever. From the beginning, you both started off on the wrong foot, and now, when you finally felt that everything was getting better, he goes off the grid.

There was a permanent frown on your face and a hurtful feeling in your chest when you came back to the shared apartment that day.

After checking on a few of your neighbors in the apartment complex and verifying that staying in them was safe now, you finally went in.

That stupid gas leak caused a really good night between you and Kenma, and you couldn't help but to let yourself smile as you reminisced about the few hours before.

However, inside the apartment was strange because there was no sound at all. With Kuroo gone with his friends and Kenma nowhere to be found, it felt eerie.

Turning on the living room TV for background noise, a couple lamps as well, and starting on baking a recipe that Kenma had shared with you, you finally felt better about being in here by yourself.

You never really enjoyed the silence, ever; it always seemed deafening and always made you feel a bit anxious and panicky.

When the kitchen timer declared the homemade sweet bread from Kenma's recipe was done, you tried it and wanted to meet the woman herself because it was beyond delicious.

You sighed, stopping your chewing. Being alone was fine, but you hated being alone with no one there to talk to or annoy either. You would've thought that being an only child would have prepared you to not feel this way and learn how to be by yourself, but it never worked.

Deciding to rot on the couch for a little, you grabbed your blankets and pillows with a good show put on, and little did you know, you were slowly drifting off to sleep.

You awoke after a few hours passed by; the TV was long off, having shut down by itself after so much time of inactivity. You felt hot—unbearably hot; the blankets you were cuddled up with earlier had damn near suffocated you.

The cool wetness of your clothes stuck to your legs and lower back.

Oh, how you hated waking up like this after a nap; it was frustrating and left you feeling woozy.

Getting up on wobbly legs, you made it to the kitchen to gulp down a large glass of water, and that's when you noticed the time. 6:00pm shined brightly on the oven timer; sleeping for the whole day wasn't something you expected for today, but it happened.

You eventually found your phone, ignoring every message that wasn't from Kenma or your parents. You groaned, throwing yourself back onto the couch, pushing the blankets down to the other side with your feet.

A dull sleep headache causing you pain, adding onto the fact that Kenma hadn't even sent you one measly text, had made it worse altogether.

Quite frankly, you missed him; you missed him a lot. You swallowed hard, not wanting to dwell too much on those particular feelings because you could tell with the way that your heart started to dully give off throbbing pains.

Deciding to distract yourself by cleaning was always a good choice to help you; it's always helped your mind because you were physically doing tasks.

After cleaning the living room again because of your mess, the kitchen, laundry, and bathroom were all done. However, you got curious yet again about Kenma's room and took your gloves off to push his bedroom door open.

It looks just like how it was last, but with him not home, you could actually look through his room and not feel his beady eyes on you watching your every move.

You got excited; the thrill of snooping through the bedroom of a guy you liked was a bit stirring. You've liked his room from the first time you went in, of course, and even the time before that.

You tip-toed in, having a feeling you might get caught if you don't hear the front door open. You look around, your heart basically in your throat. You loved the feeling of the thrill this gave you.

You first went to Kenma's bedside table; on the top there was a stray hairband, a hairbrush, and tissues, as well as a half-full glass of water. You raised a brow; that was seemingly normal enough; you cheekily smiled mischievously and opened the drawer.

You gasped when you saw a pack of condoms in his bedside drawer.

You hadn't expected Kenma to have those because you figured he didn't have a girlfriend. Your face heated up when you touched the box to move it and look at the other stuff in there. You saw some vitamins, daily supplements, and a few personal items of paper that you weren't going to touch.

Your eyes drifted back to his pack of condoms. Does he have one-night stands or something? The thoughts were endless, but you had to remind yourself that he wasn't your boyfriend, so whatever he did with those condoms was his choice.

With a sharp inhale, you exited his room, making sure you left everything just the way it was before you came in here.

Heading to your room, you decided to read for a little to pass the time. He would have to eventually come home, right? You would wait for him, wanting to confess your feelings; the more you waited, the more the anxiousness bubbled in your stomach.

Thinking about Kenma was easier than trying to anticipate when he would be home.

However, the more you thought about Kenma, the way his warm, larger frame felt against yours last night, and his eyes... oh, how his eyes became glaringly sharp when he’s pissed.

All of that causes the predicament you’re in now, with your hands between your legs, eyes tightened shut, and covers pushed to the end of the bed.

Your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans to no one’s ears in particular; you were home alone after all.

Your heat was throbbing, desperate for more than just the showerhead, more than the pleasure that you can get from your short fingers.

Being cursed with stubby fingers had caused a predicament that you could never reach that good spot inside of yourself, and so you resulted in finishing by playing with your clit.

You never thought that you’d actually be masturbating to the thought of Kenma, then again, you remembered that he did the same way before you both had developed this tension between you. You’d give anything to grind against him, to tease him for the way he’s treated you before.

You were losing it, back arching off your bed; your fingers worked diligently to help you aid in reaching for that orgasm you needed badly.

Kenma, coincidentally, was on his way home at 8:00 p.m. on the dot. After thinking about whether he would ignore this heightened feeling inside of him till he either A) moved out or B) graduated, he knew that he couldn't do that.

Safe to say that Kenma fell for you, and of course he already knew that deep inside but would never, ever admit it for something so dumb and petty that it physically made him cringe at himself.

Hoping to help aid in his apology, he bought you an iced seasonal coffee and a little sweet treat to help you not be in any negative mood towards him.

It was like he felt guilty all over again, thinking back to when he scared the daylights out of you and caused you a horrible nightmare. Only this time, he basically stood you up for an entire day because he wasn't certain about the feelings his heart was telling him, only due to the fact that they clashed with his mind.

Taking a deep breath and preparing for the night, Kenma unlocked the apartment door with his key. However, he was not expecting to hear loud, high-pitched moaning noises coming from your bedroom upstairs.

Kenma froze, the worst-case scenario coming to mind, which was that you were having an intimate moment with another person because you decided that he was waiting too long.

However, the more he waited to hear something to give off any details, there were no beds creaking or slamming against the wall, and there were no other moans/groans besides yours.

He was about to step out and send you a text that he was on his way because maybe that would dull the pink in his face, or maybe it would give him enough time to have his dick go down if he stood outside in the cold.

Before he could even open his phone, he heard a soft meowl of his name from upstairs, from your bedroom upstairs.

The mixture of chills and need rushed down his spine as he set everything down on the living room coffee table. Slowly making his way upstairs, you were unbelievable loud, yet he couldn't stop the feeling of wanting to hear more, wanting to see, wanting to feel.

Kenma tried to be as quiet as possible, the ache in his lower half becoming more of a nuisance by the second. His eyes almost bulged out of his head when he realized your door was halfway opened; no wonder he heard you so clearly.

Every light was off upstairs, with the exception of your pink lamp and TV that was playing a random show. It cast a beautiful glow on your skin as Kenma peeked around the corner of your doorframe; he hoped to God that you couldn't see the way he was being a pervert for you.

His eyes glowed with a need to please you; he watched carefully as your fingers were vigorously working hard to give you pleasure. His brows furrowed when he realized you weren't touching your hole at all.

That in itself made him curious; of course your fingers were wet; they even looked sticky, and Kenma wondered what your slick tasted like.

Kenma couldn't help but stare at you; he's never seen you naked before, and God, you looked fuckable, not to mention alluring with the way your body hypnotized him.

He stalked the way your body moved with every twirl of your fingers around your clit; your eyes were shut tightly, your other hand underneath your shirt, toying with your nipple.

It was an erotic sight, and Kenma could tell from the shallow thrust of his hips against his hand that he was bound to come soon. It was something so little, but watching someone like you in all your glory, he couldn't help himself.

He watched the slight ray of tears that were in your lash line; he wondered how long you've been at this and how long you've been without it. He knew with the way you started thrashing and your hips started to buck that you were going to come soon.

The moans you let out were so angelic, he wanted to break them so badly. With a few more thrusts and hearing his name on your lips once more, Kenma came inside of his pants.

After taking a few moments to catch his breath and collect himself, as well as getting one last peek of you, you looked so precious and worked yourself so hard because of him, and if he just owned up to his feelings, he could've done that for you.

Silently, going back downstairs because it would make too much noise to go into his room and change out of his pants and underwear for clean ones. Kenma decided to pretend he just got home and didn't just come to the sight of you toying with yourself.

With a few loud movements of his keys and the door shutting rather loud, he figured that was enough since your door was open after all.

Kenma tried to make himself seem normal enough, getting a drink out of the fridge and switching the living TV to something more so he would watch. However, ignoring the spurts of cum that were in his pants was a bit hard, as it felt uncomfortable after so long.

After a few more moments, you came downstairs, calling for him, and his body responded delightfully to your voice.

"Kenma? Are you home?" You called, coming down the steps. When you heard the front door shut, you rushed to get up and close your bedroom door and fix yourself as quick as possible.

"Yeah, I'm home." He paused, getting up from the couch.

"I got you a coffee and a muffin." He said, sounding apologetic, and you could only guess that he was apologizing for the ghosting shenanigans of today.

"Thanks, Ken... Where were you, by the way? I haven't seen or heard from you since I left this morning for breakfast. And then you just leave, shoulder-check me, and don't even say sorry." You asked confused, not liking this wishy-washy he was treating you with.

It hurt and made you confused in your own feelings, especially after masturbating to him.

Kenma's eyes glazed over as he was thinking of what to tell you.

“I'm...sorry, Y/n. I didn't know that I bumped into you, and for leaving without saying anything, as well as worrying you." Kenma sighed, not really sure what to say without saying that he likes you a lot.

You felt skeptical about his words, but there would probably be more later; after all, it was just the two of you here.

"It's all fine. I know you probably have things going on, and so I won't pester about it. I'm glad you're back though, I  misunderstood. Your eyes widened when you realized what you were about to tell Kenma—you've never told him that you've missed him before.

Luckily, your stomach grumbled, and that's when you realized that you haven't eaten since the hotel's breakfast this morning.

Kenma cracked a smile, which made your eyes light up at the sight. "Let's order in, okay? How does Mexican sound?" He asked with a smile, making your heart skip a beat.

You nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good." You were grateful for Kenma, not realizing that he always thinks about you. Whether you have eaten or need to eat, your needs when you get scared, and even letting you use him as a safe place when you're feeling that way.

As he ordered for the both of you, you started to feel guilty because he was being so sweet, and you were just upstairs masturbating to him. God, you really were the worst, you thought.

"Can you answer the door? I'm going to go change really quick." Kenma asked of you, a slightly disgusted facial expression showing. You furrowed your brows but nodded anyways. It was no hassle for you.

When the food got to the apartment, you both decided on a movie that wasn't scary nor a child's movie per his request and to which you rolled your eyes.

Settling on a romantic comedy, it was interesting as you both ate the food he ordered. Sitting side by side on the couch with the food on the coffee table, you both were close, and even then, you wanted to be closer to him.

Watching a romantic movie with Kenma left your mind open to roam about confessing to him; you wanted to desperately but was afraid of how it could backfire. Then you got into your head about whether Kenma really even liked you.

You didn't even realize it, but the credits started to roll, declaring the end of the movie, and you finally got the courage.

"Um, I like you!" You blurted out, turning towards Kenma, cheeks-tinged pink, and food left untouched because you were so distracted by your mind.

Kenma took a sharp intake of air and eyed your face. "Are you sure that's not lust?" He raised a brow, and you frowned at him, hearing your confession go unnoticed and deemed as lust.

"No, I like you, Kenma, like romantically and maybe sexually too, but I like you, alright?" You felt frazzled, trying to clarify that you had a bit more than a crush on him and then some.

Kenma's eyes widened like he didn't expect you to flat out tell him that either, "But I was mean to you when we first met, Y/n. Don't tell me you're into that." He trailed off, veering away from you for the effect.

You gasped, the blush coming back from embarrassment. "Kenma, no! My God, if anything, you're the one who's into that. I mean, if you requite my feelings, that is." You asked shyly, not wanting to assume but also wanting to desperately know.

"I do'requite' them; fancy word you got there." He chuckled at you; it made you smile. Knowing that Kenma actually likes you back was exhilarating for everything you both have been through together.

"Wait, so why did you hate me when we first met? I was so nice to you." You questioned, feeling more comfortable with asking him these questions, leaning in more.

He seemed to keep his calm though when you started questioning the reason behind his actions, "Because you're cute, sweet, and girly. I didn't realize I liked that, and you bustlingly about everywhere and adding your touches in the apartment made it feel more like yours too and not just Kuroo and I's. It was hard, I guess." He thought about it more, not realizing that you almost short circuited when he called you cute.

"That... makes more sense now. I was trying to be so nice, and then you were just mean to me. Then I got fed up and started being rude as hell; I hated that." You laughed trailing off, thinking back to when you had that mutual feud going on between you both.

"Yeah, I actually wished I hadn't been like that towards you. I really just wanted to get closer to you but didn't know how and decided to unintentionally belittle you." He grimaced at his own actions, hating the way he treated you.

However, it was refreshing to see this side of Kenma; you loved how open he could be when he wanted to be.

The night trailed on with the both of you confessing the small and big moments throughout the weeks from when you moved in. You found out about how your big nightmare was single-handedly caused by Kenma, except the rainstorm bit.

You listened intently when you realized he was confessing to causing you hurt; you felt like your heart was bursting at the seams because of him. It felt nice inside to finally be able to talk with Kenma about the mishaps between you both and forgive one another.

Yawning, tears pricked your eyes as you covered your mouth. You tried to find a clock to check the time, but your phone must've fallen into the couch.

"It's practically two in the morning. I didn't mean to keep you up so late; you should go sleep, Y/n." Kenma, yet again, was looking out for you, but you never minded though.

"I think I should; I'll help clean up though. I forgot this is your usual, staying up so late, I mean." You mentioned gathering the empty dinner plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

"Mostly yeah, but I'm tired tonight because I barely got any sleep last night." He recalled, scratching underneath his ponytail of his head.

"Oh, right, I forgot about that. I'm sorry," You apologized yet again after you found out you were the reason Kenma had zero sleep last night. He really went all out with his confession, but yet you still had a sense that he was maybe guilty about keeping all of that inside.

As you both headed upstairs, you were quicker than him when he turned off the downstairs lights. You were faced with an option. Now, Kenma wasn't thinking, nor knew, about this so-called option, but you made a choice.

"Ken?" You called from your room, gathering your PJs, because you already assumed what he was going to say.

Followed back was a "Hm?" from Kenma himself.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" You asked, more quietly now, as if you were scared of what he would say.

Kenma paused, and for a good second you thought he was hesitating. "If you're sure."

You smiled all giddy and quickly changed into a large night tee and shorts, as usual. After a speedy night routine, you meet Kenma in his bedroom.

This felt much more intimate than it did in the hotel for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that you both agreed to sleep in the same bed, or maybe that you both know a budding relationship might start, or even that you both have seen each other in such a vulnerable, alluring state already.

Climbing into the silk-sheeted bed, you felt like you were in heaven; not only did you feel like you were going to sleep on clouds, but Kenma even had a heating blanket.

"Oh my God, I love your bed." You commented, happily rolling around in the sheets as he was too busy checking his monitors and turning them off.

"Thanks, it's good for my hair since I dyed it back in high school." He half smiled from what you could see with him turned around. It felt more comfortable being around Kenma like this; it was easy and comfortable.

When Kenma climbed into bed as well, that's when all comfort went out of the window. His larger frame climbed over you so he could lay by the wall, his usual spot when sleeping.

Everything was quiet for a few minutes, and you thought that he may have already fallen asleep, so when you turn over to your side facing away from him and lay on your back, you hear him shuffle.

"So... how was your orgasm?" His voice seemed like it was coming from directly by your ear; your face immediately flushed red, but it was barely seeable since it was dark in his room with the exception of your nightlight.

"... What? What do you mean, Ken?" You tried your best not to stammer and make it as even as possible. You were sure that the front door had opened when you were already done, right? You wracked your brain but couldn't remember because the sleep in your eyes was becoming too much.

"You remember the hotel? I figured you didn't connect the dots because you're a little sleepy, but I didn't get a wink of sleep. You made a confession, did you not?" Kenma's voice sounded different—huskier, filled with a need for something.

You froze until you felt his warm hand snake around the bed to find your waist.

"Yeah, I—um, I made a confession at the hotel..." You closed your eyes, not wanting to deal with the shame of Kenma knowing that you spied on him while he was masturbating—to you after all.

"You're so dirty, you know that, right? Such a dirty girl..." He trailed, massaging your love handle, "But you liked it, right? Is that why I came home to you, pleasuring yourself to the thought of me?" You could hear an ever so slight chuckle underneath his breath. Kenma was toying with you. And you liked it.

"I'm sorry, Kenma. I didn't mean to spy; I just heard, and then went to go see—I'm sorry." You pleaded, not sure what for, until he turned you around, facing towards him.

"Shh, no worries, it's okay, Y/n. Can I kiss you?" Kenma asked, his lidded eyes staring in your wide, needy, dilated ones.

You nodded, not sure what to say other than yes; your heartbeat was practically in your throat as you shook your head yes. He came closer; you felt his breath on your lips before he closed the gap and touched your soft lips with his own.

Kenma parted your lips with his tongue, swiping at the entrance, wanting to explore the inside of your mouth. He's waited for this moment since he first fell for you, and savoring this moment wasn't enough; he needed to conquer.

A rough hand came to the back of your head as he pushed you closer to him, his tongue furthering deeper in your mouth. You couldn't help but to moan out into the kiss, using your nose to breathe instead of breaking it for air.

You could feel the wetness between your legs, and the heat in your core began to stir. Kenma got restless and started to grip your clothes roughly; his breathing was uncontrolled and harsh, like he had been waiting for this his entire life.

Kenma abruptly broke the kiss with you; you whined and fisted at his clothes for more.

"Stop whining, Y/n. I need to know if you want this; you do know what is about to happen between us if you want to continue, right?" His yellow, cat-like eyes stared hard into yours; you could tell Kenma was restraining himself after you worked him up so much.

"I want, I do want this... I just haven't done this before, though, with anyone." You admitted, hoping he didn't think you were lame since he had that jumbo pack of condoms in his dresser drawer.

"I haven't done it either; I just know what I want and can tell what helps you feel pleasured and what doesn't." He coolly said, a hand snaking under your shirt; his eyes glinted when he found out you weren't wearing a bra.

"Ah! But those condoms... in your drawer? I had thought that maybe you have already done this before." You trailed, not meeting his eyes because you just confessed to snooping around in his room without him knowing.

"You little peek." He chided and lightly pinched your nipple, "Those are from Kuroo, a gag gift from my birthday, actually." He smirked and started placing small feather-like kisses on your jaw.

He needed to get you worked up if he wanted to ensure that you were prepped right for him.

"God," he groaned into your neck, "I've wanted you so badly." He couldn't help but to leave little marks as well; from now on, you would be his.

"Me too; I've wanted you so, so badly, Ken." You whined, arching your back as he lifted your shirt and sucked on your nipples, effectively causing your thighs to rub against one another, ensuring that his plan was working.

You have never experienced something like this, and it made your body feel burning hot and your core throb. Kenma, on the other hand, was experienced to a certain extent due to the internet, manga, and having friends that are guys.

Either way, the achingly painful throb of your core demanded to be filled with every lick and slight tug of your nipples that Kenma was doing.

"You really like your nipples to be played with, my little dirty girl, don't you?" His groaned out into your ear, whilst his magic hands kept working their way on your tender breasts.

His hand snaked down to your panties, effectively slipping them off of your legs, the build up from his playing with your nipples was getting to you, making you extremely eager for the next stage. 

“Are you ready for this?” His piercing eyes couldn’t break away from yours as his middle finger slipped inside your wet heat. It was…strange to say the least, a low moan spilling from your mouth when you felt the pleasure of him moving his digit in and out of you.

His long finger was such a pleasuring break from your short, stubby ones.

Soon after Kenma watched your expressions precisely, he added another finger, keeping it simple as he could feel the tightness from even just that. Your face winced until he slowly started thrusting his fingers into your cunt, slightly curling them to prepare you for what will come afterwards.

“You’re being so good for me,” Kenma whispered, never taking his eyes off of the way your body started to join in with the rocking of his hand, your hips becoming in sync with how badly you wanted more.

Soon, your back was already arching off of his bed, the sight beckoned his dick, which was already painfully throbbing and awaiting your warm hole to fill. 

"Ken,” your voice came tumbling out roughly, “Oh God, I can't—I can't, plea—ah! Stop." You cried, the feeling of your usual pleasure was building in your core but this time, Kenma could reach that one singular spot which had you seeing stars.

His hands didn’t stop inside of you, and quite frankly you didn’t want them to stop either. With the way his thumb rubbed over your clit so lightly you were on the brink of an orgasm.

All of a sudden the pleasure failed to rush over your body, your hips jerked forwards, needing the movement that was suddenly stopped to start again. 

"No! Please! Why did you stop, please?" You could feel the orgasm dissipating inside of your abdomen, your cunt clenching his fingers inside of you that wouldn’t move. 

"Don't tell me to stop if you actually don't want me to. Now, tell me youre sorry, you brat." Kenma spat at you, you both didn’t have a safe word yet and so, Kenma had no choice but to follow your instructions and body language, he didn’t want a misunderstanding because you got overwhelmed with the toe curling pleasure. 

Heat of embarrassment rushed to your face but you hoped he couldn’t tell, “I’m,” you sighed hating apologizing when you knew you were in the wrong about this, “I’m sorr-” You were cut off once again when Kenma hovered his hot mouth over your clit, his digits continuing their bruising movements from not that long ago.

Soon, the rushing thrill of almost finishing came over you yet again and this time, Kenma let it happen. Your legs went stiff as your back arched, his tongue rolling over your clit and a high-pitched moan releasing from your throat.

Kenma slowly slid his fingers out of your cunt, tasting them when your eyes were closed. He didn’t want you to see how needy he was for you. With deep breaths and a few feathery light face kisses from Kenma, you opened your eyes. 

He was right in your face, staring at you deeply in emotion, “You did so well, I’m so proud. Do you want to stop?” There were no negative feelings in Kenma if you did want to stop, he assumed you were worn out already. 

“Huh? No, of course not. I want,” You paused, realizing how badly you still wanted to be filled, especially by Kenma. “I want more, please.”

Between the time of Kenma kissing you all over your face, he had taken his pants off. You stared at his cock, the angry red tip swollen with a need to be released. You gulped, eyes starting to become lidded with need just by looking at it. 

Kenma reached for his side table after letting you look at it, almost stopping to groan when his dick touched your warmth.

You couldn’t help but to arch your back as his dick twitched, “Can we…do it without the condom?” You flusteredly asked, hiding your face behind your hands, you were slightly grinding on his unprotected dick by now. 

Kenma raises a brow, skeptical about having his first time raw with you, knows he shouldn't, but when you’re being such a little minx, he just couldn’t disobey your request. 

“Are you ready then, Y/n? I’ll be very slow and listen to you.” Kenma promised, eyeing you as you allowed him to slowly enter inside. It’s a very damn good thing that Kenma had some patience, even though it was slowly deteriorating, because your cunt was so fucking wet and siphoned his cock into it. 

With a harsh gulp, he peered down at you, feeling the miniscule beads of sweat on his skin from the activity at hand. Your eyes were tightly shut and Kenma hated how your first time was painful while he wasn't.

Although, he realized that you were tense instead of relaxed and that effectively made the whole action hurt even worse.

“Y/n,” He choked out before taking a deep breath, “Y/n baby, you have to relax. It won’t hurt as much if you relax.” Kenma urged, for your sake and his, he was going to cream himself if you didn’t stop holding his dick hostage in your cunt like this.

After a slight head nod and no result, Kenma carefully leaned down without entering even more and started pressing light kisses to your tense face.

“C’mon, relax baby,” He mumbled, kissing your closed eyes, helping your body become more pliable instead of stiff. 

“M’sorry,” You quietly apologized to him, in which he denied that.

“It’s your first time, you didn’t know, baby.” He reassured you. 

With a few small words of permission to keep letting him sink into your cunt, Kenma fully, but slowly, sheathed himself inside of you.

The snug pleasure was overwhelming to Kenma, but he couldn't help but to prefer your pleasure over his. He decided to keep his eyes from rolling back, watching you as he very gradually rocked into you, watching his cock disappear into your warm, wet cunt.

His dick felt like it was going to burst any second, the ache in his groins was a hard fight to maintain and not flip you over to fulfill his own pleasure. 

That was until you started rocking your hips back to meet him, silently asking for more. Kenma squinted at you and stopped moving until you started whining at him. 

"Use your words,"  Kenma’s rough, mean voice came out. He wanted to hear you say it, you needed to learn to be clear when speaking to him about something. 

You hesitate, "I want more; it doesn't hurt anymore; it feels really good." You sigh in pleasure, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been because of him. 

A snap of Kenma’s hips clashed you both together, and like clockwise, the delicious noises fell out from your mouth, unable to be contained even by your hand. 

Kenma gripped your waist, entering you at a breaking pace, the tightness of his hands on you hurting in such a painfully good way. His cock pierced your insides and you found yourself meeting each and every one of his thrusts with the same eagerness. 

Not being able to keep his hands off of your body because the squish of your walls were pulling him in further, it felt like you didn’t ever want him to leave.

He leaned over you, trying to desperately attach his mouth to yours, the look of both of your eyes were mirrored with pure lust and attractiveness.

In less than no time, the toe curling sensation of a familiar orgasm rushed over you, trying to claim your body. 

“Ken, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," you chanted loudly, rolling your hips faster against his, hoping to grind your clit against him. You fisted at the sheets harder when Kenma put your leg over his shoulder and rubbed your clit. 

Your vision became uncanny as white spots filled it when the crashing wave of the second orgasm of the night rushed over you. Kenma did not slow down or even falter for a second when your body started spasming, your cunt seized as Kenma’s moans finally spilled out as he kept going.

You, on the other hand, had accidentally stopped breathing with the overwhelming waves of pleasure hitting your body as if you were under water. The rush came unyielding as Kenma kept going; he noticed, and yet it made him harder and his dick eager to release.

"Haaah, breathe baby, c'mon breathe for me," Kenma urged, not able to stop his thrusts but trying to soothe your spasmodic state by rubbing your face and throat as gently as he could. 

To his relief, a loud, strangled gasping noise came out of you and Kenma realized that you were crying by now. 

God, seeing you like this in pleasure, your face beating red, and tears rolling down your cheeks was the tipping point. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, oh God, I’m gonna—" Kenma desperately wanted to cum inside and fill you to the brim of his seed but knew that it wasn't smart to do, especially since this was the first time you both had sex.

His dick was tightening, becoming ready to spill his seed inside if he wasn’t ready to pull out. 

"In—side," You choked out, the pleasure making you feel light headed and leaving an airy feeling in your body, almost as if your orgasm never ended. Kenma knew better than to listen to you when you're drunk on sex. 

As his thrusts came to an end, they became sharper and more bruising, and on his last thrust, he pulled out quickly, almost missing, and came on your cunt.

His head was thrown back, groaning, as he rubbed his cock all over your pussy like a dog in heat, the last warm spurts coming out of him on you, which left you with a strange feeling.

Once Kenma was able to collect himself, he leaned down to you looking like you were out of it and not even here all the way. He pressed kisses to your forehead, feeling the dampness on your skin.

"Are you okay? Was I too rough?" Kenma worriedly asked, with a weak shake of your head, he got up ass naked, and all you heard was the bathroom sink running before he came back. In his hands were a cup of water and a wet cloth. 

"Let me clean you; I didn't mean to finish all over you down there," Kenma apologized, his ears turning pink as his usual self came back down to earth.

"Mmm, it's okay. I'm sorry for almost pressuring you to finish inside," you said sheepishly, realizing how bad it was and how horrible he would’ve felt afterwards if that did happen.

After Kenma cleaned you up, he put his shirt over your body, pulled you close, and turned on your favorite childhood show. You relaxed into his body, letting his hands roam all over you and massage the weak points of your body.

"I really enjoyed it, Kenma, thank you." You bundled your head down into the blankets, comfortable in the way he played your favorite show and the fact that his bed, obviously, smelt like him. 

"You make it sound like you paid me," he snorted from behind you, "But you’re welcome; now sleep, you're tired," and sure enough, you followed his orders.

Kenma went quiet behind you as he was relishing in the way your body fit against his, the smell of your shampoo, and the fact that you are in his clothes, which all eased his mind to a comfortable slumber.

synopsis: it's the summer before you go to university, and you decide to become roommates with your pen pal that you've known since you were in primary. big problem arises, he's got a roommate, and it just so happens that his roommate either has a sexual want for you or hates your guts – or probably both?

a/n: hihi everyone! second to last chapter ;) i hope you've all enjoyed this so far <3

tag list: @geektastic84 @lavanderdreamve @hhoneyhan @kirikeijii @marsoverthestars @nymphsdomain @justagirlnamedkai @kodzukein @74zix47 @kakuzone @jaeminaur @3lectraheart @ookamiakasuna @22marie16 @jlly1 @aldebrana @kad0o @animechick555

@deftrow allowed me permission to make this/it's their idea from A03!! all i did was create a multi-chapter fic of it :) i made the banner!!

[sqh3e]

Astray, Kim Woon-hak !

synopsis : you catch yourself slowly but surely falling back in-love with your ex, the break up was mutual neither one of you was toxic or just flat out a horrible partner in the relationship. maybe rekindling that won’t hurt…

genre : exes to lovers, fluff, a little angst (lmk if i forgot something)

pairing : bf!woonhak x reader

𐙚 word count : 1.8k

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you and woonhak have been broken up for about 7 months now, you took it surprisingly well. no one cheated or anything the break up was mutual you both felt as though you were in two different places at the time.

over the course of 7 months you found some new hobbies and really started to learn to enjoy your own company. one hobby in particular you loved was skateboarding. you liked the thrill and excitement you got from putting the board on the ground and riding through the skate park with it.

anytime you had free time you spent it at the skate park, one day you really really wanted to try this new trick you saw on tiktok the fact it was on tiktok you knew you shouldn’t try it out, but you liked the thrill.

it was about 7pm the sun was setting and you’d been at the skate park all day. you finally decided to try out the trick, no one was around so if you fell no one would see you.

the trick was call a Grind. meaning you slide the board along a surface, not necessarily the board the trucks of the board.

you could already jump and spin the board and land perfectly, so you did that a few times to warm up. but then you heard someone clap whixh startled you and you lost your balance on your board falling but you caught the fall with your hands.

“are you okay? did i scare you?” a familiar voice spoke as they helped you up from the ground.

“woonhak?” you asked before looking up. and behold there was woonhak smiling at you, despite living in the same neighborhood you haven’t seen him in 7 months probably cause you spent your free time here.

“yea it’s me y/n” he helped you to your knees. you both stand there making direct eye contact, he looks away and scratch the back of his neck nervously chuckling.

“so uh, how have you been?” “what are you doing here?” you both spoke at the same time causing you both to laugh.

“well i’ve been good, it’s been awhile woonhak. surprised to see you here.” you said making him look back at you.

“are you really surprised to see me? this was my home for the longest.” he laughed.

and just like that you’re busted, you spent the last 7 months going to the skate park and any chance you got just so you could possibly run into woonhak. but of course he couldn’t know that.

“yea..” you let out an awkward laugh, he picks up on it and smiles at you. “you asked what i’m doing here,” he showed you his board “i haven’t been here since we broke up, something told me to come here today so here i am.” he spoke you caught a hint of genuine in his voice.

you knew the part about him not coming since you both broke up was somewhat true since you’d been coming here everyday since you both broke up. a part of you felt like he wasn’t necessarily telling the truth about why he actually came.

he placed his board on the ground and kicked off, “let’s see if you can keep up.” he laughed as he got further and further from you.

your board already being on the ground you placed your left foot on the board and kicked off, “hey! no fair” you said laughing.

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an hour passed by and you both are still at the skate park. “y/n,” woonhak said your name causing you to look up at him “genuinely what prompted you to start skating? was it another guy…?” he mumbled that last part and it caused your face to form a small smile.

“only if you tell me what you’re really doing here.” you replied, “fine, i’ll walk you home and we can catch up.” he said getting up off the ground reaching his hand out to help you up.

you missed this, you kind of forgot how much of a gentleman he was… you felt butterflies in your stomach. you took his hand and let him help you.

“you live closer do you really want to walk with me? we could just-“ he cut you off “i insist.” he said. you nodded and started dusting the dust and dirt off your pants.

“alright let’s go!” you said placing your left foot on your board and slightly kicking off with your right foot, he walked beside you as you slowly skate on your board.

“soo…” you said breaking the silence. “well what do you wanna know? the floor is yours.” he replied.

“i still want to know why you were at the park today, but i’ll save that for later.” you said.

“how have you been though? hopefully good.” you added. “actually i took the break up pretty hard which is why i stopped going to the skate park.” he says, you placed your right foot in the ground to stop your skating.

he noticed and he stopped walking, he turned around and slightly tilted his head at you.

“you took the break up hard?” you asked, “now i feel bad because i didn’t take it bad…” you added.

but i think you did take it bad without realizing, you went to the skate park almost everyday hoping you’d run into woonhak, the reason you learned to skate was so that you could impress him.

you looked down to the ground your foot fidgeting with your board.

“hey…” he walked back towards you, “don’t feel bad everyone takes things differently,” he explained. “i’m actually relieved you took it well, i would’ve stressed if you hadn’t.” he added.

“woonhak,” you spoke still looking at the ground, “did you think of me? at least once or twice…?” now you were fidgeting with your hands.

you don’t know why you were so nervous it’s just woonhak, you haven’t felt like this sense you and woonhak first met… i mean of course he made you shy when you were together but you soon got comfortable around him, felt like you were back at square one. you like this feeling.

“y/n, i thought of you everyday… still thinking of you now,” he expressed, “i missed you.”

you smile hearing his words suddenly you were so giddy, you didn’t want to make it obvious but it was already so obvious you missed him as well.

“i missed you too woonhak.” you whispered and smiled to yourself.

“i needed to hear that.” he spoke grabbing your board off the ground carrying it in his right arm with his board. he reached his left hand out to grab yours. you hesitated, but he grabbed it anyway.

you both walked hand in hand for a few minutes the silence wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable.

“what did you do for the last 7 months?” you spoke breaking the silence.

“school and that’s about it, you?” he asked, “school and in my free time the skate park, i see why you spent alot of time there. it’s peaceful just you and the sound of the board on the ground.” you trail off realizing how cringe that might’ve sounded.

he lets out a light chuckle before speaking “you know the real reason i went to the skate park today was because your mom told me you we’re there.”

“huh my mom? why’d she tell you that?” you asked sounding confused. he stopped walking, but you kept walking you stopped and turned around after realizing he stopped cause his arm pulled you back.

“because i went to your house in hopes of seeing you,” he trailed off.

you stood there for awhile then you walked up to him, he continued “i acted off impulse, i really wanted to see you but didn’t know if i should call or stop by… so i just stopped by. and that’s when your mom told me you were at the skate park.” he spoke, he looked in your eyes searching for an answer or something.

you look into his eyes seeing a hint of vulnerability, “woonhak…” you gently grabbed his face with your free hand.

“i have a confession, i only learned how to skate because i wanted to impress you… i thought that if maybe you saw me on my board you would think i’m cool.” you chuckled.

“i wanted us to have something in common i learned how to skate for you but ended up actually falling in love with it.” you added, he put his board on the ground upside down and did the same with yours.

“seeing you on your skate board only made me fall more inlove with you than i already am.” your eyes widen at his response.

“i-inlove..?” you stutter trying to process what you just heard.

he loves you? prior to breaking up you two were only together for 4 months you didn’t even hit the “i love you” stage yet. you were taken aback.

“yes y/n, i am inlove with you more than you know more than i can put into words.”

“i never wanted to break up, i wanted to stay together but because that was your choice i just agreed.” he trailed off “y/n you don’t understand how much i love you, and neither do i… which probably why i agreed to break up, all this is new to me and i was scared.” he confessed.

he grabbed your hand that was cuffed on his face holding onto it.

“woonhak, why wouldn’t you just communicate this with me you dummy!?” your eyes start watering. he notices and pulls you into a hug using the hand that was holding your hand.

he wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“i would’ve told you i love you more.” you confessed but it was muffled due to your head being buried in his chest, “everyday without you was dreadful, i missed your scent, your smile, your laugh. i just missed you as a whole.” he kissed your forehead.

“y/n,” he pulled away still holding onto your waist, before you could answer him he cupped your face looking directly into your eyes, this was it you were about to have your first kiss.

you pull away, analyzing his face before pulling him back into the kiss.

after the kiss he mumbled the words “i love you, always have y/n.” and your face goes red… “so cute.”

he put his arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him and you both continued to walk home.

until you realize you left your boards, “woonhak silly you left the boards.” he turned around and laughed, he jogged back and grabbed them before placing his arm around your shoulder again. and you both walked down the quiet neighborhood laughing.

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authors notes : i hope you all enjoyed this short woonhak story lol, i was up late last night and proof read it this morning. please excuse any errors if there are any. don’t know how i feel about this story but i definitely had fun writing it, i hope everyone has/had a great day !

perm taglist (open) : requests (open) !

[ramblingautisticman]

A Gift In The Making

Chapter 1 - Decorating In November

Summary : Logan has a problem. What the fuck does he get Wade for Christmas?

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3.)

(Okay, so I'm pretty excited about this little fic! Hopefully everyone enjoys it! Not sure when the next chapter will be out, but I know the last one will be out on Christmas Day! Anyway, enjoy, and link to the A03 version in is in the title!)

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Logan had left Wade in bed at roughly 9am, getting up to let Mary Puppins out to pee and by the time he got back, Logan was met with Wade decorating the apartment for Christmas. In November.

They had moved in a week ago- had all their belongings still in boxes- but apparently he had found the Christmas stuff.

Music was playing softly in the background as Wade stood in the corner of the living room, hanging ornaments on a tall pine tree (that he really hoped was plastic), humming along to the whatever festive song was playing.

"You uh...you know it's not even December yet, right princess?" He asked as he stepped inside and closed the door, placing Mary down on the floor, watching as she ran over to Wade's feet.

"Peanut! Your back! And yes, I know it isn’t December yet, but who doesn't love the festive spirit? Plus, this is your first Christmas here, and our first Christmas together, so I wanted to get a head start on it! Also, I may have seen a tiktok where someone put their decorations up and I instantly needed to put our tree up." Wade rambled, kneeling down to pet Mary's head, then standing back up and walking over to Logan with a huge smile on his face.

And okay, initially he was thinking of telling Wade to take it down for atleast a few more weeks, but he looks so happy that he couldn't bring himself to do so. "Well- it looks good. I like the tinsel." He comment, kissing Wade briefly on the lips before heading into the kitchen and grabbing a soda from the fridge.

He had been sober for a good 4 months now, and Logan wasn't planning on breaking that anytime soon. Wade made it easier, helped when he had a rough day, and they kept alot of soda in the fridge so he could have something in a can. It helped, having something familiar.

"You know, you've never mentioned anything about celebrating holidays. You better celebrate Christmas- if you don't because of religious reasons or whatever, fine- but I'm keeping my decorations up. It took me years to collect all of them!" Wade's voice brought him away from his thoughts, opening the can with a small chuckle, looking up at the other.

"I'm not religious. I don't think I could be living with you- I'd be going to hell if I was." He joked, sipping on his soda before leaning against the counter behind him. "Anyway, I do like Christmas. Just- haven't celebrated in awhile. That's all. Never really had anyone to celebrate with after....everything." Logan added on quietly, looking away.

It was still hard to talk about- his X-Men and what happened to them- but he was getting better. He didn't have a panic attack when people mentioned them now, and he could bring them up himself without feeling sick, which he thought was progress.

Christmas had always been a big deal in the mansion. Mostly for the kids- the ones who didn't have anywhere else to go. The team always made sure that they got to have a christmas like any other kid- getting them each a few presents that they wanted- and showed them that they always had a family here. No matter what.

Logan had never thought about celebrating Christmas after they died, or any other event for that matter. Birthdays, Halloween, Christmas- they had all been such happy funfilled events with the whole school that they left a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he thought of them.

But here he was, a new family and a new home, people to celebrate with. It had been strange, having people to do that with.

They celebrated everything together. Birthdays, Halloween, and anything else that gave them a reason to all gather at Wade's place and eat pizza. Why wouldn't Christmas be the same?

"Well....we don't have to celebrate. If you don't want too- I don't mind. I can deal with it like the big boy I am- but I do expect you to watch some 90 Day Fiance with me as thanks to my understanding." Wade teased, hoping to lighten the mood as he moved to stand infront of Logan, gently wrapping his arms around the others neck.

Logan smiled alittle, looking back towards Wade's eyes, and placing his free hand on his waist. "No- we can celebrate. Just haven't in awhile, that's all. Makes me remeber celebrating with the team...but, I will be very happy to spend Christmas with you and your friends." He said softly, kissing Wade with a smile, slowly pulling away after a second. "Plus, you seem very excited.....and I really don't want to watch that crap again." Logan added, a smirk on his face.

"They are OUR friends Peanut. And yeah- it's always been my favourite holiday. Ever since I was a kid. It was the one day I got a break from my asshole dad, because my family would come over and he couldn't yell at me with guests there. Anyway- away from the angsty headcannons the author clearly wants to insert- do you wanna help me put the rest of the lights on the tree?" Wade asked with a kiss to Logan's cheek, moving away and towards the living room again. "Also, that show is hilarious and you should love it!"

For the rest of November, they would cuddle on the couch under the Christmas tree lights, watching reruns of Golden Girls on the TV that was surrounded by small decorations.

And as Christmas got closer and closer (and by closer and closer, Logan means 3 weeks away), Wade got to planning the big day itself, running everything past Logan as he did.

"So, Laura said she wants to come over Christmas Eve and stay the night- which I'm all for! I'm thinking we can watch movies and eat cookies and it'll be awesome!" "Do you think Al would like a new TV for Christmas?" "We need to get Mary Puppins an ugly Christmas sweater Peanut!"

It seemed never ending, but Logan could see how much this all meant to Wade, so Logan agreed with whatever his partner wanted. He didn't mind what they did, as long as their family were over. Plus, he was alittle distracted with something himself.

He didn't know what to get Wade. At all.

Logan had already gotten everyone else presents (Wade had dragged him to the mall the second week of November), with most of them being from Wade and Logan as joint gifts, but Wade was different. Wade needed something special.

This was their first Christmas together and Wade had done so much for him over this past 10 months, letting him move in with him and teaching him to love again- so Logan wanted (needed) to find a gift that showed how much he cared for him. How much he appreciated everything Wade had done.

And you'd think, well Wade likes so many things, shouldn't that be easy? And the answer would be no. No it wasn't.

Half of the things Wade liked were either kids shows, or weapons, and Logan really wasn't sure how he could get a meaningful gift that involved both bluey and a pistol.

Thankfully, after another week if thinking, he got an idea.

[paigesbasketball]

Under Oath

Chapter 1: I Give You Mercy, Not Forgiveness

Paige x oc black!lawyer warnings: none I think

The fresh, cool air of UConn hit my senses as I stepped out of the car. If I’m being honest, I didn’t want to be here. But for the sake of being a good friend, here I am. I pulled into the guest parking spots in the lot, the last place I wanted to be today. I grabbed my phone and called KK to let her know I’d arrived.

I didn’t tell her about the dark part of this place, though. I never went to school here—never had the chance to. And even if I had, it wasn’t my story to tell. So, I decided to keep it quiet. Besides, KK loved this place. Who was I to tarnish that?

I adjusted my tan two-piece suit, the dark brown jacket hanging off my shoulders. If I was going to do the lawyer thing, I might as well do it in style. I stepped out of the car and headed toward the campus buildings, the weight of the job starting to settle on me. But something told me that whatever I thought I was walking into was only the beginning.

I walked through the familiar gates of UConn, trying to remind myself I was here for KK, not for anything else. She had reached out to me in a panic, telling me about a contract breach she and her team had gotten tangled up in. She didn’t mention who was involved, and I didn’t press her. Honestly, I didn’t care who was on the other side. My loyalty was to her.

But as I approached the gym, I felt a strange, sinking sensation in my chest. I couldn’t quite place it, but something in my gut told me I was about to walk into something bigger than a simple contract dispute.

KK was waiting by the court’s entrance, smiling brightly as she waved me over.

“Thank you for coming, Caty!” she said as I reached her, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug. Her excitement was infectious, and I couldn’t help but give her a small smile in return.

“I’m here. Let’s handle this,” I said, trying to sound confident, though I could feel the nerves beginning to bubble up.

KK led me inside, and my eyes instinctively scanned the room, not sure what to expect. Then, as if everything shifted in slow motion, I saw her.

Paige Bueckers.

She stood near the back of the room with her teammates, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. The moment my eyes locked with hers, everything around me seemed to fade. Betrayal. Deceit. I could feel it all in the pit of my stomach.

For a moment, I thought about walking away, telling KK I couldn’t do this. But before I could make a move, KK turned to me, pleading.

“Caty, please. You have to help us,” she said, her voice soft but desperate. “This could ruin Paige’s career. You can’t let that happen.”

I clenched my jaw, still seething with anger as my gaze stayed fixed on Paige. The memories came rushing back. I wasn’t ready to face her. I wasn’t ready to forgive her.

“You’re asking me to help her?” I snapped, the bitterness in my voice unmistakable. “After everything she’s done to my sister?”

“Caty, please,” KK repeated, stepping closer to me. “I know it’s hard, but we really need you.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. But I can’t help her, I thought. Not after what she did.

KK looked at me with concern, sensing the tension. “Why do you hate her so much, Caty?” she asked quietly, her tone more thoughtful than I expected.

I turned away for a moment, trying to suppress the anger that had been bubbling inside me for years. It wasn’t easy to talk about. Not with KK, and definitely not with Paige in the room.

“When we were younger,” I started, my voice cold as I relived the painful memory, “Paige invited my sister, Alexis, to a football game. We thought it was a date. She was so excited. But when she came home that night, she was crying. She told me it was all a setup. Paige didn’t really like her. It was just a joke to her.”

I took a shaky breath, the anger bubbling up again. “I didn’t believe it at first. I thought it was some kind of misunderstanding. But when I confronted Paige at school, she just ignored me. She ignored us. And I knew then what happened. She humiliated my sister. Left her heartbroken, and didn’t even care.”

KK listened quietly, her eyes wide with shock and sympathy. But I wasn’t finished.

“What made it worse,” I continued, “is that years later, both of them ended up at the same college. Alexis called me, crying again, telling me Paige had pulled this nasty prank on her. Another one. Something mean-spirited. I don’t even know the details, but it didn’t matter. I promised Alexis I would never speak to her again. And I haven’t.”

KK looked at me, her expression softening. “Wow, Caty, I had no idea…” she whispered. She paused, processing the story before she spoke again. “But... do you really think she’s that same person now? I mean, she’s here, playing for the team. She’s probably changed.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t want to believe that Paige had changed. Part of me wanted to stay angry, to keep the walls up. But seeing her again, hearing KK’s words, made me question it. Still, the hurt ran deep.

“I don’t know if she’s changed or not,” I muttered, looking away from KK and back at Paige, who was now looking at me with something that seemed like... regret? “But her ignorance toward me and her disrespect toward Alexis tells me everything I needed to know.”

KK took a step closer, her eyes pleading again. “Caty, please. I know this is hard, but I need you. We need you. We can’t get through this without your help. I swear, I’ll make sure this doesn’t bring up any of that old stuff.”

I stared at Paige for a moment longer, still seething. But KK’s words kept echoing in my head. This wasn’t just about Paige anymore. This was about my friend. And I wasn’t about to abandon her when she needed me most.

“Fine,” I said, my voice low but firm. “I’ll help with the team’s case. But Paige has to find someone else.”

KK hesitated, a mischievous look crossing her face. “Please, Caty. Please help her too. Who knows? Maybe you two can work things out... talk things through.”

I shook my head, still unwilling to forgive her. “I haven’t seen Paige in years. I’m sure she’s still the same. Maybe worse.”

But before I could argue any further, my eyes found hers again. Paige was standing there, still as beautiful as ever, her blonde hair gleaming under the gym lights. And I couldn’t ignore the pull I felt, the flicker of something different in her gaze. It was the strangest sensation.

I snapped back to reality as KK shouted with excitement. “Guys! She said she’ll help us!” she called out, bringing the attention of the whole team to me. They all started thanking me, but my eyes remained locked on Paige.

When we finally came face to face, I felt my stomach twist. She was even more attractive now than I remembered. What was wrong with me?

“Hi, Caty,” she said softly, a tentative smile on her lips.

I met her gaze, icy and unforgiving. “My name is Catayela to you, Ms. Bueckers,” I said coldly.

She flinched at the correction. “Fine. Thank you, Catayela, for taking our case. Does this mean… you forgive me?”

I couldn’t help but laugh in her face, the bitterness in my laugh startling even me. I stepped closer, whispering in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear. “I give you mercy, not forgiveness,” I said, stepping back and watching as she blinked, a soft pink blush staining her cheeks.

Something about that moment threw me off—her flushed cheeks, the way she seemed to absorb my words. It was strange, and I didn’t like it. Did I?. But the one thing I did know for sure? This was far from over.What really threw me off, though, was the company they had signed with. Tell-Time Stories. The name hit too close to home.

Hey guyssss catyy here. hope yall enjoyed the 1st chapter the second chapter should come out sometime this week

[yellowhollyhock]

you know the hardest thing about 07 fanfic is getting around the gaping plot hole of 'your training ended a year ago and Master Splinter says you've stopped writing'

Like? What am I supposed to believe here? That Leo's gone for an extra year (twice as long as he's supposed to be gone), nobody goes looking for him, he stops writing, and nobody's reaction is 'Leo is either in serious danger or dead?' Everybody assumes he just decided not to come home?? And they're right???? Like we don't see much of Leo's personality but from what we do see, a year is a long time to just not write and not let anyone know he was gonna be late

That just doesn't. Make any sense.

So here's me trying to make sense of it

When Leo first left, Raph became the Nightwatcher (as per prequel comics). Mikey starts his Cowabunga Carl thing, with Donnie's help, and enjoys it a lot for a while. It's the only time he's getting out after all. Other than training, which is not going well without Leo. Donnie's not a very firm leader, barely wants to be doing it himself. Raph is checked out and short-fused. Master Splinter tries to intervene but that largely looks like scolding and isn't much help at all.

Mikey knows Raph is the Nightwatcher. In the beginning Donnie thought he must not be, because of an instance here or there where he was too harsh, too reckless, couldn't be their brother, he would never do that. Mikey responded by pointing out the good things and arguing over the debatable things and reminding Donnie of the trouble Raph can get himself into when he's fixed on a goal or acts from a place of anger. Donnie sees the schedules continue to line up and has to concede, but that leads to the question: what is Raph so angry about? And while they haven't come up with an answer, privately Donnie assumes it's at him (for not being the kind of leader Leo was).

Four months after Leo leaves, they're still training every morning and going out occasionally. Six months in, they still train most days. Master Splinter has asked them not to go out together because of how they treat each other during training. Mikey likes his job less and also clings to it more as it becomes the only way he's ever getting out. By the time Leo should be home in a month, while each of them still practice, training together is rare.

That's when they get a letter from Leo that he might be late, and isn't sure how late.

So he's a week late. Donnie is researching every boat and airplane that left from Japan (last known general location) trying to guess what's likely to have caused the delay and extrapolate where Leo might currently be.

Two weeks late. Mikey is planning such a big homecoming party that increases in intensity with every night Leo's not there. It might be tonight, we have to be ready. He's not taking gigs and Donnie's getting stressed about money.

Raph is being the Nightwatcher and only sees his brothers for a brief time in the evenings--and lately those evening have been all about Leo. He's watching them both worry themselves sick. He'd actually allowed himself to be excited for Leo to come home, imagined they could have a good time together if he had a chance to pull him aside and talk to him about the thing he hasn't talked to anyone about: Merryweather's death. It's his big brother he wants to tell and he can't explain the Nightwatcher to his family until he's had that conversation with Leo. They fought about it before Leo left and he needs him to understand.

But now he's getting angry. Where is he? Donnie expresses concern that Something Happened; Master Splinter insists they must stay calm and not give up hope.

Three weeks late. Donnie is now insisting Mikey get focused back on work. At this point Donnie is still being Mikey's driver, in the headset and on standby every time Mikey goes out. Mikey wants him to back off (I can do this myself) so that at least someone will be home to greet Leo since Mikey might not be (your fault for making me go to work). Donnie is really hurt by the implied 'don't need you anymore' and feels guilty (which somebody really should) that Mikey's the breadwinner for the whole family. Even more guilty now that he thinks his help was more for his pride than because Mikey ever needed him.

Then a letter from Leo. Sorry for not contacting you sooner, I'm safe and well, hope I didn't worry you. I'll be at least another month. Much shorter than his letters used to be; they're more worried than ever. And this time the return address is way off course from what they thought was his path home. What's going on?

Mikey wants to write to him. Everyone else points out they don't know where to send the letters. Donnie is back to obsessing over maps, train schedules, weather patterns, anything that might hint at an explanation. Between their jobs and worrying about Leo, Raph doesn't understand how either of his brothers can still stand upright.

He becomes more aggressive out in the streets. He's worried and confused and pretty steamed at Leo for giving them nothing to go by. And even more angry at who or what could have hurt him badly enough that he doesn't want to tell his family what's going on. He's quicker to hit and more hasty to decide who the bad guy is.

Donnie and Mikey see the change. Donnie starts openly criticizing the Nightwatcher every chance he gets (trying to get Raph to fess up or better yet stay home or at the very least see that he's going too far sometimes and needs to take a break). Mikey responds by doubling down on his defense and praise for the Nightwatcher (also wants Raph to confess and knows he won't when Don's talking like that, wildly hoping to be invited along, wanting to keep Raph safe but also eager himself to have a space to let out his own building anger).

And what's Mikey angry at? The fact that Master Splinter hasn't done anything. He's satisfied with Leo's explanation. Doesn't seem concerned, like Raph and Donnie are, that something went wrong. Master Splinter replies that the Ninja Tribunal is wise and at times unpredictable. They may have thought it right to extend Leonardo's training. Donnie points out that the return address for Leo's recent letters are not in Japan; did the Tribunal travel with him? Master Splinter doesn't have an answer and still insists on remaining calm and hopeful.

Now it's been two months, one week past the second time Leo was supposed to be home. Mikey plans a party again, this time with much less support from his frazzled, sleep-deprived brothers who are trying not to get their hopes up. Raph tries to keep Mikey from getting his hopes up either. That doesn't go over well.

After three months, they get another letter, another apology with no explanation, this time saying he has no idea when he'll come home, but don't worry, he's coming.

Raph has been seeing night after night what the world can be like. He's convinced something unspeakable happened or will happen to Leo, but he can't tell anyone that. He wants to go after him, but how is he supposed to find him? The best he can do for Leo is the same he did for Merryweather: be the hero they can't be anymore. Make people who are careless with others' lives Pay. And somehow he has to keep it from his family that he thinks Leo's gone gone, or might be soon; they couldn't take it. They don't know the world like he does. He can protect them from this, for a while.

Donnie thinks Leo must need help, and that's driving him crazy because he doesn't know how to reach him. But he's going to find a way. He starts planning and saving up for parts to build his mutant finding matrix thingy. After their argument he doesn't want to ask for Mikey's help paying, and it wouldn't be right since he's been really trying to let him be more independent. He finds a job. Mikey seems bothered, they talk and work out a better working relationship that allows Mikey more independence and pays each of them separately (Mikey of course making more because he's doing more). Now with the call line job supplementing that he's able to ease the burden on Mikey and April of providing for the family (he knows Casey's been worried about the kind of work April's been taking) and he can buy the parts he needs to find Leo, go after him and bring him home. He's going to fix this for everybody.

Six months after the first time Leo was supposed to come home, Mikey finally gives up hope. He's been secretly sending letters to different places he thinks Leo might be. He stops. He's hidden nightmares about what could happen to Leo for months. He stops asking for Raph or Donnie to go skateboarding with him, stops insisting on family nights every Saturday. He gets closer to Splinter, who he's seen a change in and knows, in spite of continued insistence to stay calm and not give up hope, Master Splinter gave up a while ago. Donnie says he's just getting old (he's been very worried about his health and is becoming more micromanager about it every day), but Mikey knows it's more than that. He sees the depression Splinter is hiding. Splinter doesn't notice the same in him.

Around that time, they finally get one more letter. Leo says that he's not going to be in a place where he can get paper or postage, so they also won't be hearing from him. He doesn't say anything about coming home.

Raph had thought Leo was dead; the letter makes him furious (he's been mourning in secret for nothing? Is Leo even in trouble or just decided not to come back?). Donnie is thrilled by it; not being able to send a letter actually might help him narrow down where Leo is, and they have a more recent return address now. He's about ready to pack up and go get him, something he assumes Raph will be on board with.

Well, Raph can't leave, and he can't tell his family why (they know why). He and Donnie have a screaming match. Raph wants to know how this return address is any different from the letters before, and why they didn't go then. Donnie brings up Raph not seeing Leo off at the airport when he first left. Raph asks if Donnie's even been training. Mikey suspects it got physical, but if it did they both hide the bruises well and they're not saying a thing.

Raph starts going straight to his room when he gets back in the early morning, and staying in his room until he can hear that the rest of them have gone to bed. Once in a while he'll come out to argue if he overhears something that sets him off.

Mikey would go with Donnie to get Leo, but Donnie says Raph's right, he'll have moved on by the time they get there, it's the same as every other return address. He just needs more time to figure out where Leo actually is.

Mikey is starting to think they've run out of time, but just like Raph, he doesn't want to say that.

Batnapping happens like eight months in. Master Splinter is deeply bothered by it, gets stricter, asks his sons not to go out until Leo gets home. Raph has to get sneakier. Mikey had to negotiate to keep his job (Donnie helps). At this point Donnie is the only one who almost never leaves the sewers; April tries to get him to her place as often as possible, usually finding that asking for help is most effective.

And that's how they all live for fourish months before Leo finally (unexpectedly) returns.

[aek1ra]

Paris | Mark Lee

Pairing boyfriend!mark x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Mark, gets the offer of a lifetime but it means moving to Paris. Is this the start of a new future in a new city or where a great romance goes to die in the city of love.

Genre: angst, no warnings I think. Giselle and the rest of the æspa members play a small role.

Word count: 2,458

All stories are the property of © aek1ra, please do not copy, repost or translate without my permission. Thank you for your cooperation.

Friday

“I can’t stay here and be single for you, you’re my best friend why can’t you just be happy for me” you whisper shout at her in the middle of the crowded streets of Manhattan. “I am happy for you, I just don’t want you to regret this decision in the future-” she takes a deep breath and continues “look all I’m saying is that you’ve given up a lot for this relationship and this is one more thing he’s asking you to give up. Moving to Paris isn’t your dream y/n you’re chasing after him.” 

You heard her loud and clear, in fact you knew exactly what she was talking about. As much as you hate to admit you had been thinking the same thing for weeks now but how could you let him go. He was the missing puzzle piece, no he was the image you’re left with after the puzzle is completed. You had everything a girl in her mid twenties could ask for, the apartment in your dream city, the expensive shoes, the dream job and the dream boy. or at least you thought. No, you did and besides you’re not giving up your dream you’re simply moving it across an ocean. Yes, they have nice apartments in Paris, expensive shoes and people read magazines everywhere. It would take some time to find a job and some friends but once you got settled things would be the same, right? 

“I heard you, now let's drop this conversation I already quit my job and besides we leave tomorrow” you retort, taking a sip of your coffee hoping the warm beverage will help the lies come out smoother. She doesn’t say anything for a moment in fact you forget she’s even there. 1 beat 2 beats. “You weren’t even going to say goodbye to us? You can quit your job, throw away your shoes, hell even your hopes and dreams for some boy, but are we, am I that disposable to you.” pause “Actually you know what never mind, forget I said anything. Have a nice life y/n” 

3 beats, 4 beats. And with that you were left in the silence again except this time she really was gone. 

You walk into your shared apartment anxiously toying with your keys, the previous conversation replaying in your mind. 

“Baby your home, can you help me with the-” he stops mid-sentence seeing the tears well up in your eyes. 

“Hey what’s wrong? Things didn’t go well with Aeri, I take it?” you nod finally letting the tears you’d been holding all night cascade down your face. Mark is quick to pull into his chest, one arm around your waist pulling you in close, rubbing circles on your back. “She hates me. I don’t know why she can’t see things from my point of view. Everyone but her is happy for us, she’s my best friend and her opinion means the world to me. I mean she was my best friend.” you say in between sobs. 

He continues to listen as you drone on about her not understanding your feelings under the soft glow of the fluorescent lights. 

You were going to tell them, you did plan on saying goodbye but everything happened so fast. Mark had gotten offered the deal of a lifetime last week and asked you to move with him. Although it was sudden you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And with the long list of things you had to get done before the move like; putting the apartment up for sale, handing in your notice at work, packing, passports, visas,  you simply forgot to deliver the good news to your family and friends. 

When you called your parents this morning they expressed their excitement seeing you going on this adventure, truthfully they were just happy you’re happy, they know just how much you and Mark love each other. The other girls, Jimin, Minjeong and Yizhuo were all happy for you even if you knew deep down they had the same reservations as Aeri. She was the only person who didn’t seem to understand, or the only one not cowardly enough to say it out loud. She’ll come around eventually, right? 

After 15 minutes of effectively soaking your boyfriend's t-shirt he breaks the silence “come on” he starts as he cups your face softly in his hands wiping the last of the tears away, “let's get you to bed, we still have a few things to do before our flight tomorrow”. And with that you let him lead you to the bedroom thoughts of your friendship pushed to the back of your mind as the excitement and slight anxiety takes over. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday morning, First day in Paris

Before you knew it you were in Paris, standing in the lobby of the infamous Ritz Carlton. The company had booked a 5 night stay for you both while the deal was being finalised. Mark went off to get your room key while you stood admiring the crystal chandelier hanging above you. It was mesmerising, dazzling, the main star, the sun, the other lights danced around. He was standing at the front desk a few steps away, the lights above him creating a spotlight on him. There he was, your crystal chandelier, your sun and you were his earth quietly, forever orbiting around him. 

“Hey” his voice snaps you out of your haze, “let’s head up stairs yeah” he takes your hand in his, the sound of hurried footsteps and soft giggles are all that's left as you both disappear into the elevator.

Ding!

You come to a stop on the top floor, the Imperial suite. The view up here was stunning. Breathtaking. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, every morning you would be waking up to two of the most beautiful views, the Eiffel tower and your boyfriend. 

Thump. There it was, that feeling again, you had been feeling this pang in your heart, a sort of longing like something was missing. If you were being honest you had been feeling this since your talk with Aeri yesterday, more specifically after she left standing alone outside your apartment. 

The faint sound of a phone ringing pulls you out of your thoughts, you watch your boyfriend talk to someone on the phone, probably his manager. 

 “Right now?”

“No, that's fine I’ll be there. Can you give me 20 minutes? I'll shower and meet you at the studio.” he hangs up the phone making his way towards you. He stands in front of you staring in your eyes, “I’m so sorry I know we said we would spend the day together before I got too busy. But I promise you I’ll be back before 7, we’re still on for dinner right beautiful?” 

Mhm. You hum in response planting a quick peck on his lips “don’t worry about me I’ll go shopping for our date tonight.” 

To be quite honest you were upset it hadn’t even been 24 hours and he was already too busy for you. Who were you kidding, did you really think it would be different, Manhattan to Paris the only change was your address. Maybe he just had no more room in his life for you. No, it sounded urgent, probably something with the contract, a typo or something. You’re a big girl, you can spend the day alone in the hotel room, or better yet go out and buy yourself a new dress for dinner tonight. 

“Besides I think I’ll go out and check out the stores around the area” he gives you one last squeeze before letting go and making his way into the shower. 

Tshhh

The sound of the shower water interrupts the quiet of the room, wishing the water could just wash away all your worries.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saturday night  

Standing in front of the mirror admiring yourself in the strapless Versace dress you purchased earlier on. The sneaking suspicion that Mark wasn’t going to make it home starts to creep up on you. He was always doing that, making plans with you and cancelling at the last minute, sometimes not even showing up and forgetting to call. You know how important his work is to him and how crazy his schedule can get sometimes. At the start of your relationship he made a point to always let you know if he was going to be late, sending flowers on the days he misses a date. But as time went on the flowers and calls started to slow down eventually coming to a stop. I mean you knew he didn’t mean to, you didn’t need gifts to know that he never meant to forget you, he never meant to keep you waiting. 

The clock finally strikes seven and you’re sitting on the small couch at the end of the hallway, opposite the front door. Dazedly staring at the front door willing it to open, like a puppy waiting for its owner to return. Seven o’clock becomes eight, eight becomes nine, eventually it's Ten and you tire of waiting around so you decide to head to bed. 

It’s a quarter to Midnight when Mark returns, you spent the past thirty minutes tossing and turning, head full of questions, where could he be, was he alone, was he even thinking about you. He walks into the room, no he stumbles in knocking over a few perfume bottles that were on the dresser. You feign sleep, you're suddenly hit with the smell of alcohol. The bed dips next to you and soon enough you feel this lips on your cheeks, a quick bittersweet lingering kiss. The smell of alcohol is so overpowering you start to get dizzy. You feel a new emotion, not hurt, not disappointment, not hurt, but for the first time ever you were angry at him. While you were worried sick that he could’ve been somewhere out there lost in this foreign country where neither of you speak the language, or worse out dead in a ditch somewhere he was out drinking. Mark could be careless, inattentive, forgetful whatever you want to call it but never was he stupid. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday morning 

The sun rose at 7 this morning, you hadn’t slept at all last night, thoughts of what your future would look like if you decided to live here with him. Mark starts to stir in his sleep, finally waking up. He wraps his  arms around your waist, pulling you towards his chest murmuring a quick  “good morning beautiful”. When you don’t respond he shifts slightly, lifting his head off the bed to get a good look at your face. 

“Baby, hey I’m sorry time just got away from me-” he starts, but you think it's pointless listening to the same speech you’ve heard all these nights before. Mark was the best boyfriend a girl could ask for, that is when he’s not too consumed by his work. You see for him everything else would always come second to his love for music, and maybe one day you would be strong enough to handle that truth. 

“Don’t worry about it. I forgot myself” you interrupt him before he can finish, “You have to get going, you’re going to be late for your important meeting.” you say albeit a bit too venomously for your liking, quickly sliding out of the bed and opting to sit by the window. 

“y/n” he starts but decides against it, instead deciding to give you your space. 

At 8:30am you hear the door to your room close signalling Mark has left for the day. You guys barely spoke to each other at breakfast, a silent dance of tension. Every few minutes you’d shoot him a soft smile in an attempt to show him you’re not mad, or in an attempt to lie to yourself. 

You had planned on going to see the cute cafes today while Mark was at his meeting, but after the events of last night you decide to stay in and wallow in self pity. Plus you have to console yourself before the dinner tonight with some music company executive that Mark kept droning on and on about on the flight over. You know this dinner is super important for his deal and no argument between the two will get in the way of that. So you swallow your hurt and anger, and decide to waste your time watching some random French drama. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday night 

At exactly 7pm Mark walks int through the front door. Of course he’s always 

The happy couple, you walk hand in hand into the restaurant. Mark’s manager greets you guys at the door, ushering you both to join the rest of the party inside.

 “Mark, I want you to meet Mr. Devon” his manager announces pushing Mark towards the older gentlemen. 

As he let go of your hand for what felt like the millionth time, your picture perfect dream was starting to crumble all around you. All the painful memories, all the nights he left you waiting around for him, all the times he put his work, friends, colleagues before you, all the broken promises and forgotten dates.. Yes, forgotten, like you had forgotten your friends like they were something to check off a to-do list. But at the end of the day, you couldn’t blame him, not really, no. Mark, he was only chasing after what was important to him, and that wasn’t you, not anymore.

With your head hung low, you quietly make your way to your seat. 

Once Mark is done making the rounds saying his hellos, he takes his seat next to you, intertwining his fingers with yours. And as you stare aimlessly down at your interlocked fingers, you catch a glimpse of the classouses on his hands from hours and hours of strumming his guitar mindlessly while writing lyrics. It then becomes painfully obvious to you, you don’t belong here, at least not with him, not now, it was time for you to let go, let him run as fast and far as he can, chasing after his dreams. Slowly removing your hand from his you plant a soft kiss on his cheek letting your lips linger for a second before you whisper your last words of the night to him  “I love you, I’m sorry for doing this to you tonight but I wish you the best Mark”. You walk out of the restaurant refusing to look back, too afraid that one look into his beautiful tear filled irises would make you crumble on the spot. 

Au revoir mon amour, if the universe wills it surely we’ll meet again. 

(Note: Hi 👋🏽 if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading for first ever fic. I started writing this based on Carrie & Miranda’s argument and then just let the story take me where ever. I’m thinking of maybe giving it a part 2, what do you think?)

[070chwe]

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.

[e-dubbc11]

Ericca...pssst...pssssst....i just read the new tattoo artist!billy fic aaaand:

Dylan's first heartbreak 👀👀👀👀

I never get tired of your asks my sweet, sweet friend but i definitely will never ever get tired of your asks for this wonderful little family. I hope you enjoy what I did here. Thank you again! ♥️

Heartbreaker

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader Wife, and their son, Dylan William

Warnings: Fluff, getting dumped, couple of swear words I think?

Word Count: 2.1K-ish

Summary: Dylan experiences his first broken heart and needs a little help getting through it. His parents are there to help him.

A/N: Part of The Sweetest Pain Series

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“I didn’t know what to say to him, sweet girl. I never dated any woman long enough to have them break my heart. I always broke theirs.” Billy said with concern in his voice for his son and raised eyebrows.

“Oh I know you’re a heartbreaker from way back, Casanova.” You said and your voice dripping with sass.

Billy narrowed his eyes at you and tried to stop himself from smiling but he couldn’t. He always loved when you were a little bit spicy with him which is why he referred to you as his “little firecracker.”

But this wasn’t about Billy’s past or yours, for that matter. It was about trying to get your son to talk to you.

**********

When Billy was just your tattoo artist, you were well aware of his reputation with the ladies although Frank would let little things slip here and there about how much Billy loved tattooing you or that he cleared his schedule to make room for an appointment for you.

But you had to be protective of your heart. Billy had quite the womanizing reputation and the last thing you needed was to get hurt again like all the other past relationships in your life that had gone wrong. But he was hard to stay away from and it was difficult to not have a crush on him.

In the end, you had never been so happy to finally learn that he had deeper feelings for you other than friendship because you were now married to the man of your dreams, had two great kids, and Billy still only had eyes for you.

But right now you had a bit of a problem. Well, maybe not really a problem but a little situation that you weren’t expecting so soon from Dylan. He just had his heart broken for the first time.

One of Billy’s latest talks with his son was to tell Dylan to ease up on the playboy attitude that he clearly got from his father and even at 16, he knew full well how handsome he was. You didn’t want Dylan having the reputation in school as the class heartbreaker and he actually listened and took his father’s advice but he wasn’t expecting to be on the receiving end of a broken heart.

You remember when he came home to tell you he asked out the prettiest girl in his class, Lila, and he was really excited to take her out on a date. She was the first girl that Dylan had actually told you and Billy about, you knew there had been others but this one was different.

He seemed to really like her and after a few weeks of dating, Dylan started referring to Lila as his “girlfriend.” She had been over for dinner, was very polite, and even met and hung out with Anna Raven on a weekend she was home from college.

They were inseparable, always texting, and spending all of their spare time together. You had never seen Dylan smile so much but unfortunately, it didn’t last.

About four months after Dylan started dating Lila, you came home from work and started to cook dinner as usual. You just assumed Dylan was upstairs doing his homework or playing video games so when dinner was ready, you called him down to come eat.

Dylan replied in somewhat of an angry tone, “I’m not hungry, mom!”

Your son was always hungry, the kid had snacks upon snacks before dinner was even ready most nights and would still clean his plate.

With a narrowed expression, Billy said, “That’s strange…kid is always hungry. He eats like he has hollow legs.”

“Go check on him, baby…please?” You asked, nervously.

Billy went upstairs, was up there for a few minutes, then came back down, only to tell you that Dylan said he wasn’t hungry, he was just tired, and he had a long day between school, homework and practicing his guitar.

“It’s just not like him, Billy.” You said.

Billy shrugged.

“I can’t force it out of him, sweet girl. You know it’s not easy for Dylan to talk about things.” He said.

“Yeah, I wonder where he gets that from.” You said, sarcastically.

Your husband playfully rolled his eyes at you.

“I know, I know but let’s just let it go for now and if it keeps up, we’ll try and talk to him about whatever is bothering him, ok?” Said Billy.

“Are you trying to brush this off because you’re hungry and you wanna eat dinner?” You asked with your arms folded protectively across your chest.

“Damn, you really do know me better than anyone, don’t you, beautiful.” Billy said with a wide smile. “We’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise and Dylan’s a tough kid. He’ll be alright for tonight.”

Billy touched his forehead to yours then gave you a gentle kiss, the scent of green soap was potent on his clothes and you could feel the heat coming off of his body, through his shirt.

He always knew how to ease your tension. When his lips touched yours, you felt your shoulders relax and your stress melt away.

You just hoped your son was alright.

**********

The next two nights were the same as the previous one. Dylan told you he wasn’t hungry, Billy tried to talk to him but didn’t want to tell his father what was bothering him until the third night of skipping dinner. That was when he told Billy that Lila broke up with him.

Billy didn’t know how to respond.

“Ah buddy, I’m…sorry.” Said Billy.

Dylan raised his voice.

“I did what you and mom said I should do! I found a girl that I really liked, told her how I felt and she dumped me for it, Dad!” He yelled. “I shouldn’t have let her get to me. You’re lucky. You never let anyone get close to you except Mom and you turned out fine!”

“I don’t want you to make the same mistakes as I did, Dylan. It took me six years to even admit that I had feelings for your mother! And it was all on the account of me being a stubborn asshole.” Billy said, tensely.

Dylan continued, “Well, it’s not gonna happen to me again. Can you please just leave me alone, Dad? I wanna be alone.”

Billy did as his son asked, left his room and came back downstairs where you were anxiously waiting for him to tell you what happened.

**********

“Casanova, huh? Very funny, sweet girl.” Billy stated.

“I just want him to be ok, Billy.” You said with a slight smile.

“I tried to tell him, baby. I tried to tell him that I didn’t want him making the same mistakes I did with a womanizing attitude but he didn’t wanna listen to me. He is right though; I don’t know what it’s like to have my heart broken.” Said Billy.

You pondered for a brief minute before responding.

“Well, maybe not in that particular sense but you do know what unrequited love feels like.” You said, softly.

Billy knew you were talking about his mother.

“That’s different, sweet girl.” He said through clenched teeth.

No matter how many times it scars over, that wound left by his mother will never ever be fully healed but you would always be there to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding when he needed you to.

“You told me all about having your heart broken a few times, baby. I remember you talking about your first boyfriend and how badly you took that one. Maybe you could share that story with Dylan. It could help him feel better.” Said Billy.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt. I’ll give it a try.” You said, fixating your eyes to the top of the stairs.

Billy kissed your forehead, flashed his million-dollar smile at you, and wished you good luck.

You were going to need it.

**********

Three light knocks rapped against Dylan’s bedroom door.

“Dylan honey? Can I come in?” You asked, softly.

From behind the door, he sadly replied, “Whatever.”

“Dylan, I know what it’s like to have your heart broken.” You said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

Mumbling into his pillow, he replied, “Dad never broke your heart, Mom.”

“You’re right but if he even thinks about it, he’s a dead man.” You replied, hoping to get a chuckle.

His shoulders moved slightly up and down. You could tell that made him laugh.

You tried to tell him how sorry you are but he wasn’t responding so you decided to tell him about how your first boyfriend dumped you. It was senior year of high school, you were 17 years old, and you had never been in a relationship before. A cute blond haired, blue eyed boy from your class kept showing up at your soccer practices as well as your games. He was also your physics lab partner.

He seemed to really like you so you started seeing each other. The two of you went to the movies, went to shoot pool, grabbed dinner, and he even picked you up for school every morning.

Things were going really well until you told him how you were feeling and said those three little words, to which he replied with absolutely nothing.

“He called me the next day to break up with me over the phone, probably so he wouldn’t have to look at me, see the tears in my eyes, or watch my bottom lip tremble as he broke my heart into a thousand pieces.” You said in barely more than a whisper.

Dylan sat up on his bed, his shoulders were hunched and his eyes were glued to the floor as he replied, “I asked Lila if she wanted to go to junior prom with me. She said that prom wasn’t for another few months and that she wasn’t sure she liked me enough to go to the prom with me.”

Even though he was 16, the thought of some girl breaking Dylan’s heart made your blood boil.

“Why that little bit—“ You had started to say before Billy burst through the door.

“AH, AH, sweet girl!” He yelled, shaking his head. “Not helpful, baby.”

You knew he was right so you composed yourself and said, “Dylan, it will get easier. If you’re meant to be, she’ll come back and if not, it just means there’s someone else out there especially for you. I was meant to be with your Dad and I just had to get through a few broken hearts first, that’s all. Going through this kind of stuff makes you stronger and sometimes life isn’t all a bunch of fluffy bunnies and unicorns. The strong always survive, just ask your Dad.”

You glanced at Billy as a wide smile stretched across your lips.

Even as a little boy, Dylan had always wanted to be just like his father, he looked up to Billy, and for not having one or a role model of what a father should be, Billy was a really great dad.

“You’re gonna be alright, buddy. Your mother is tough too, she didn’t tell you the part of the story where the next time she saw the kid who dumped her, she walked right over to him and kicked him square in the balls.” Billy said with a devilish smirk.

“Hey now! I still maintain that he kicked himself in the beans.” You said, biting back your laughter.

Dylan started to laugh as he replied, “Well Mom, now I know where Anna gets her feistiness from. She kicked that first boyfriend, Jake, in the nuts too.”

Billy said, “My two firecrackers…regular and mini.”

Dylan looked at the two of you and with a slight smile on his face, said, “Thanks Mom, thanks Dad. I think I’m starting to feel a little better.”

Time will tell if Dylan will go back to his heartbreaking ways although you hoped he wouldn’t. Setbacks are bound to happen especially after experiencing his first broken heart and it would take some time before he could give his heart away again.

You didn’t want him to completely shut himself down like Billy had done numerous times with you and sometimes still does but you didn’t want him to be completely naïve to all the Lila’s of the world either.

No matter how old he gets, Dylan will always be your baby boy and you’ll always want to protect him, Anna Raven also. But both of your children were learning to navigate their own lives with, of course, some stumbling and falling along the way but they were problem solvers, determined, tough around the edges but had kind hearts.

And you knew that whatever happened, they would pick themselves up and persevere because Russo’s never quit, they never give up, and they will always fight for what they want.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

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If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

[sunshine-overload]

[BSTS] Main Story 5th Anni 'Painted Planets' - Team B Chapters

Team B Chapter 1

-starless lobby-

mizuki: You're here, Saki!

saki: Wah, Mizuki-san…!

mizuki: What's wrong? How come you look so down? Today is the start of B’s show. All of our penlights sold out already, Unei’s reaction was so funny.

saki: Fufu, I can imagine.

mizuki: It ain't even surprising right? It's obvious our merch would sell out, we're the best.

saki: The other guests must be really excited. I’m looking forward to the show too.

mizuki: Right? Watching our performance will help you forget whatever’s on your mind. You’re seriously in for a treat this time.

saki: Is that so?

mizuki: Since you're one of us, I’ll let you and only you in on it. Get this, we're gonna perform as a group of six.

saki: What?

mizuki: Whattaya think? Surprised right? With Hinata performing B will be complete.

saki: Is that allowed though? If I remember correctly you can only perform as…

mizuki: Oh, that dumb five person rule? Who gives a shit about that, we're Team B! We're different from the other teams, we do whatever the hell we want.

saki: If that's what you’ve all decided then.

mizuki: No, I decided it myself. I’m the leader after all.

saki: (Mizuki-san decided it by himself?)

saki: Um, are you sure it's going to be ok?

mizuki: Course, we rehearse as a group of six too. It's gonna be great so make sure you're watching! C’mon, I’ll take you to your seat, come through this way.

saki: Ah, yes. Thank you.

–end

-

Team B Chapter 2

-rehearsal room-

-team B rehearsing-

ran: Oh!? We got the steps perfectly just now!

kongou: Right? If we keep this up the show is sure to be a blast.

lico: Of course it will be. We're the ones performing after all.

ran: Ahaha! It's great how that confidence of yours never changes, Lico!

lico: What's that? Are you making fun of me?

-mizuki appears-

mizuki: Yo, you all here? I’ve got something I wanna say. For our fifth anniversary show, we're gonna perform as a group of six.

kongou: Oh really? … Wait what?

hinata: Six? You mean like what you were saying the other day? Are you super actually seriously serious right now?

heath: …Mizuki.

lico: Didn't we tell you that's not going to happen? Why are you talking like you're going through with it?

mizuki: I had a long think about it and decided we're gonna do it. I’m B’s leader after all. This is what I’ve decided.

kongou: W-wait a moment here. This is the first I’m hearing of this. Did you know about it already, Lico?

lico: Mizuki mentioned it to Heath and I during the anniversary eve event. We were firmly against the idea.

heath: Exactly. I’m against it.

ran: Ya, there's no misinterpretin’ that response. Oi Mizuki, these two are clearly against it?

kongou: Not to mention it's in the store rules that we can only perform as a group of five.

mizuki: B are gonna have the best fifth anniversary performance of the lot. So obviously we should take to the stage all together. The five person rule can get fucked, the six of us are Team B. Don't get all stingy on me.

lico: Are you an idiot? We're not being stingy here.

mizuki: Shut up! I’m the leader and this is the decision I’ve made.

hinata: So that means… Um… I’ll be standing on B’s stage?

mizuki: Yep, that's exactly what it means.

hinata: Seriously!? Hell yeah~! I get to be on B’s stage!!

kongou: Slow down, Mizuki. The show’s script was made for five people. What are you going to do about the roles?

mizuki: Chill, I’ve already thought about that. The story is set during a war, yeah? And we're the resistance that's currently in a town that's being occupied by an enemy country.

kongou: Well, yes, that's more or less the story.

mizuki: I’m the leader of the resistance, and I use a local bar as our hideout. The owner of that bar will be Lico.

kongou: A bar owner called Jiro does exist in the script but… Are you saying you're going to add a new role?

mizuki: Yeah, that's what I’m doing. Jiro’s our friend so it's perfect.

kongou: Wait, Mizuki. You can't just do that.

lico: Excuse me? My role is that bar owner? The hell are you saying? This role you’ve just made up on the spot is nothing but a minor character! 

No, wait. Then what about the role of Paul who betrays the resistance? You can't mean…

mizuki: Hinata will play Paul. He’s the newest person to join the resistance so it fits.

hinata: What? You're seriously letting me play that role?

kongou: You can't allow that. It's the second position’s role, it's very important. You need to think this over more, Mizuki. We need to strike a good balance here.

lico: Why the fuck should I have to give up the second position!?

mizuki: Oh shut up, all I said was that you're gonna be playing a role on our side instead of the traitor.

lico: Don't fuck with me, that's obviously not the problem here!

kongou: Mizuki, this really isn't–

mizuki: I told you already, this is what your leader has decided! That's all! I ain't changing it!

lico: You… Asshole…!

heath: Unbelievable. Adding more characters, changing the roles, all on a whim…

ran: Man, what a messy order of command. I dunno about this.

mizuki: Hinata, you're playing the role of the traitor. Make sure you go all out.

hinata: Y-yes! I will, I will! I’ll do my best, I’ll do my veeeery best!! Thank you, Mizuki!

mizuki: We’ll show ‘em all that B’s the best. They won't even be able to refute it.

–end

-

Team B Chapter 3

-starless hallway-

heath: Mizuki. Are you serious about us performing as six?

mizuki: Course, it's a great idea isn't it?

heath: I’ve asked you this already, but do you want to put on shows, Mizuki? Or do you just want to play ‘family’?

mizuki: I want to put on a show, so we’ll perform with everyone.

heath: (annoyed sigh)

mizuki: We already performed as six for ‘Somewhere’. Just what the hell do you and Lico have such a problem with? I even properly went and told Kei that we’d be performing as six.

heath: Do you not remember? During the anniversary eve event when you told me and Lico about the idea, both of us were against it. Did you consider why we were against it? Not to mention, you never even mentioned it to Ran and Kongou.

mizuki: And so? What's your problem? Ah… Don't tell me it's cause you still dislike Hinata?

heath: –No. I’m talking about you right now, Mizuki. This isn't about him. I’m telling you not to selfishly change our show.

mizuki: Huh? Selfishly…

Shut the hell up, you're the ones that have been doing this selfishly. When you collapsed too, Lico added Akira in all on his own too.

So, what? It's fine when y’all decide shit on your own but not when I do it?

heath: Mizuki–

mizuki: Shut up! Your decisions were clearly the more selfish ones! I’m B’s leader, the one who decides how the team operates is the leader, not you!

heath: (frustrated breath)

heath: The leader decides the team's matters. That's what you're insisting then?

mizuki: Yeah, got a problem with that?

heath: No. Do whatever you want.

mizuki: What, you still got more to say?

heath: …Nope, there's nothing. I don't have anything to say. You're right, I had no reason to bring up my complaints. Just do whatever you want, Mizuki.

mizuki: Sure, leave it to me. It's gonna be an awesome show!

-heath leaves-

heath: An awesome show, huh? If it turns out that way it would be awesome, sure. 

Fine, Mizuki. If you’re going to be like that then I’ll steel my resolve as well.

–end

-

cw: suicide mention

Team B Chapter 4

-break room-

hinata: Ah, Lico! There's something I wanted to ask you~ How come Paul kills himself at the end of the story?

lico: …Huh?

hinata: I don't understand the reasoning behind it. Paul was Louis and the rest of the resistance's enemy from the start. And it's thanks to Louis that he becomes friends with everyone.

So shouldn't Paul want to be with Louis, who was so kind to him, forever?

lico: …As if it would be that simple. It's your own fault that the entire resistance fell apart.

hinata: But everyone else dies, Paul is the only one left that can be by Louis’ side.

lico: ……..

hinata: Hey, did you hear me?

lico: Can't you think about it yourself?

hinata: But I don't understand it, that's the problem here! It's a super important scene isn't it?

lico: And why should I have to be the one to guide you through it?

hinata: …Wait, could it be you’re mad at me, Lico? Cause your role was given to me?

Our leader Mizuki is the one who decided it all though. That's why I’m giving it my all here.

lico: You're seriously so…

Right, since Mizuki decided this, why don't you go and ask him? Go and ask for our leader’s opinion.

-time pass, behind starless, day-

ran: Ah, you’re out here Lico!

lico: …Yeah.

ran: Our rehearsal is startin’.

lico: …I’ll come once I’m done smoking this.

ran: Huh!?

lico: What's with that reaction?

ran: I’m surprised that ya comin’. The old you definitely woulda skipped out. Since y’know, considerin’ what happened.

lico: …I’ve had it. I’m seriously pissed at Mizuki.

ran: Well, makes sense after what ya had to put up with.

lico: Hinata annoys me too. He’s way too insensitive.

ran: Yeah, I get that. But goin’ after him is a little lame.

lico: (seething with rage noises)

lico: I’m seriously so pissed off.

ran: Hm~ My method of stress relief probably wouldn't work for ya. But if ya wanna go pick a fight with someone I’ll join ya!

lico: As if I’d do that, are you stupid?

ran: I expected as much!

lico: …I can't not stand on the stage. If I’m not there then Kotori-chan would be sad, wouldn't she? And… I’m our team's number 2.

–end

-

Team B Chapter 5

-starless stage-

mizuki: At this point Hinata will come forward��� Hey, that's wrong! I told you that's not how it goes, before Heath steps back you step in from behind him.

hinata: Huuh…? I don't understand the timing.

mizuki: Yes you do. Heath steps back and you're supposed to appear like ‘bam’!

hinata: Didn't I appear like ‘bam!’ just now? Or not?

mizuki: I’m telling you just do it like Lico does.

hinata: Uu…

lico: That's impossible.

kongou: Right, with six people the amount of stage space we have to move around on is different.

mizuki: Tch… I know that obviously, shut up.

lico: We're so tired cause you don't know that.

mizuki: Huh? You got a problem, bastard?

kongou: Mizuki, Lico, calm down.

lico: I am calm. It's our leader who’s letting the blood rush to his head.

mizuki: Shut the fuck up…!

kongou: Jeez… We can't continue the dress rehearsal like this. Ran, could you say something to them?

ran: Nope, I don't make my appearance yet. Mizuki’s the one who decided to perform as a group of six. So it's his job to figure out how to make it work.

mizuki: I told you I know that already.

ran: Ya, so make it work~ If not we won't have a show ready.

mizuki: Tch…!

-akira appears-

akira: Wassup, good work out there~ We’ll be closing up shop soon.

-B all glare at him-

akira: Huh? Everyone’s so serious. Hey now, did something happen?

lico: Nothing important.

heath: It has nothing to do with you. Stay out of it, Akira.

ran: Ya, this is our own problem.

kongou: Sorry Akira, I know you were just trying to be considerate.

akira: Ah, s-sure… But hm~? You said it has nothing to do with me but aren’t I also a B member for the time being~?

mizuki: You're not part of B! Lico added you himself, I never approved of it.

lico: Oi Mizuki, you…

mizuki: This is perfect actually. I’ve been meaning to tell you that we don't need you. Heath is back in good health. Akira, your time as our understudy is over!

–end

-

Team B Chapter 6

-starless lobby-

ran: Yo, Nee-chan, ya came to watch us again today. Thank ya!

saki: Good work on your closing show. It was nerve wracking every time I saw it!

kongou: I hope you mean that the contents of the show were the nerve wracking part.

saki: Hm?

kongou: Ah, no, it's nothing. I’m fine as long as you liked it. Thank you for watching, Lico said he's sorry he couldn't come to greet you after the show.

saki: Is Lico-san ok?

ran: He's off sulkin’. Not that I can blame him.

saki: Huh? What do you mean by that?

kongou: Well um, a lot happened. But it's fine, sorry for worrying you.

ran: We're gonna go and get changed then.

-ran and kongou leave-

saki: (I wonder what happened, they're all smiling but something seems off…)

heath: Thank you for coming to watch today, Saki. Did you enjoy it…?

saki: Of course. Your lyrics were really strong… Thank you for such a wonderful show.

heath: I see. I’m glad. Hearing you say that has saved me. Thank you for watching, I’ll see you later.

-heath leaves-

saki: (Heath-san too… What's going on?)

hinata: Heyo, Miss~! I stood on B’s anniversary stage. I’m SUPER happy! I'm so happy I can't even right now~!!

saki: You were great. I was surprised you had such an important role.

hinata: Right? Me too, me too. I want to keep standing on the stage from now on too~!

We managed fine with six people. Next time I’m going to be performing I’ll tell you right away!

-hinata leaves-

mizuki: You were watching the curtain call weren't you? Everyone was so pumped. It's cause we performed as six, isn't it? See, my suggestion was great.

saki: Congratulations on your closing show, Mizuki. Um but, everyone else looked a little down…

mizuki: Ah… That's cause we had an argument, they told me we shouldn't perform as six.

But with how much of a success it was they shouldn't have any more complaints about it, right? A little fight is no big deal, we're the best of friends after all.

saki: Is that so…? I hope you can all make up with eachother soon then.

mizuki: I'm telling you, it's no big deal. The show was a success. All’s well that ends well, right? B’s still gonna be the best from here on out!

–end

[jkl-fff]

Ford, solemnly: Now that we're free ... Please don't hold it against Dipper that he locked us in a room together to try to make us get along.

Norman: I wasn't going to. Like, I'm not thrilled about it, but I'm not mad, either. Just mildly annoyed. It's another one of his antics. But why does it matter so much to him?

Ford: *sigh* Dipper reminds me of my younger self in a lot of ways. Good ways and bad ways. We both have a tendency to be ... obsessive and get swept up in our own excitement, for example, even to the point of being irrational despite our minds being practically hard-wired for analytical thought. And neither of us deals well with perceived rejection or betrayal.

Norman: But I didn't reject or betray him. I only said that I didn't really like you.

Ford: Yes, but like I said earlier, we're both very important to him. He sees me as a mentor and maybe ever as a role model, he sees you as his best friend--

Norman, surprised and pleased: H-he said that? He called me his "best friend"?

Ford: He's hasn't used that exact phrase, but you don't need 12 Ph.D.s to figure it out. The point is, we're both very important parts of ... of his life, of his psyche, of who he identifies with and how he sees himself. I imagine he perceives someone not liking either of us as not liking a part of himself. Hence a perceived rejection.

Norman: ... Yeah, I guess I can see that. It makes no sense, not really, but also it does sorta make sense for Dipper. He once spent a whole afternoon trying to concince me that I should like Wes Anderson, even though I just don't.

Ford: *shrug* I did say we can be irrational despite being so analytical ... I'm glad you're not mad at him. Please reassure him of that. By all means, be firm with him about not locking you in rooms and such. I'm not saying to put up with shit--Oh, damn, can I say shit in front of a child?

Norman, wryly: I won't tell a fucking soul if you won't.

Ford: Ha! Well, as I was saying, don't put up with his shit. But please reassure him this whole ... episode hasn't changed anything between you. You're still friends, even when you don't agree. I think that would be ... would be very good for him. It'll help him grow up into someone who doesn't remind me of my younger self.

Norman: ... Do I have to give the gun back now?

Ford: No, you can borrow it for the day. Have fun, just don't shoot any people or any animals or any property that I personally care about.

Norman: Cool! But ... *sigh* Okay, why did you say that thing just now about it being good for him? Gonna bug me 'til I understand.

Ford, wistfully: ... Do you know how many friends I've had in my whole life? Truly close friends, who I felt I could be truly honest with about who and what I am?

Norman, taken aback: Uh ... This isn't about you being probably bisexual, is it?

Ford: What? No--Well, maybe, I guess--

Norman: Is it going to be about Dipper being probably bisexual?

Ford, exasperated: It's about isolation, you spikey-haired ... child. I 've had 3. One was my brother, who I turned my back on because of anger, resentment, and self-absorption. I got so swept up in obsession and feeling betrayed by him over an accident, that I let it cost me my only real friend at the time. One was McGucket, who I pushed away because of obsession and a need to be a genius and a pioneer of science. I got so swept up in feeling like he was rejecting me over ... Oh, it hardly matters now, given how unstable I was. The point is, it cost me the only real friend I had again.

Norman: And the third one?

Ford, haunted: ... That was Bill. Who did actually betray and reject me--who never actually was my friend, for all that I believed he was at the time. But that didn't exactly help my fear of betrayal and rejection, as you can imagine. And all of it happened ultimately because my own obsession and tendency to be swept up in my own excitement drove me towards isolation.

Norman: Which you don't want to happen to Dipper.

Ford: Yes. I understand he also has struggled to make friends over the years, only really having Mabel for so long. Isolation again. But you Mystery Kids, with you in particular as his best friend, Norman, have helped him so much by genuinely befriending him. That's helping him learn to be more ... more grounded and more stable and ... and good. More good--better, I mean--than I was. Which I want. I want him to be better than I was. So ... yes.

Norman: Yeah.

Ford: *nods* Good.

Norman: *nods* Great ... I'm, um, gonna go blast something now.

Who knew all it took to solve your personal grievances was giving a small child an unregistered high-tech firearm?