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paarksunghoon · 2 months ago

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resignation (8)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: i will be out of town this weekend, so jury's out on how long it'll take me to write the next chapter. this will satiate you for the time being :)

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: oral (m & f receiving), sunghoon gets sucked off while driving, fingering, p in v, missionary unprotected sex, and probably some typos. whoops.

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

As it turns out, Sunghoon was completely serious about the weekend getaway.

He’d managed to rearrange meetings on his own without bothering you about it. All of his Friday priorities have been taken care of, and the one meeting he had on Saturday morning managed to be pushed onto another week. Sunghoon told you to let him worry about the logistics, and that your only responsibility is bringing clothes for the weekend.

You didn’t have time to pack during the week and find yourself scrambling to think of everything in your closet. Should you bring that lingerie set your friend bought you for your birthday all those years ago? You’ve never had any reason to wear it. When you see it in the back of your closet and try it on before packing it in your duffle bag, you’re a bit too shy to admit the lacy, deep red fabric looks incredible on your body.

You’re halfway done packing (re: you’ve packed undergarments and a few pajamas) by the time the end of Friday comes around. Sunghoon drives you back to your place in order to help you pack, even though you insist on doing it by yourself and meeting him at his place. He argues it wouldn’t be proper of him to not accompany and help you.

Sunghoon meets Nabi for the first time, too. She’s more than eager to watch Pochi over the weekend if that means you get to spend time with the hot boss she’s only ever seen in photos or Internet searches. They get along fine if you count her talking his ear off while she collects Pochi while Sunghoon politely smiles at her and nods. You’ve told her how he is around strangers when he isn’t working, and Nabi’s more than willing to fill up the silence. It’s kind of sweet watching this short, loud personality overshadow a tall, quiet guy.

Pochi doesn’t seem to care that you’re leaving either. You give her a million kisses to the point where Sunghoon fears you might cancel the entire weekend because of how much you dote on her. He finds it to be incredibly adorable, too. Sunghoon doesn’t know if he’s ever seen you be so affectionate before now. You seem more delicate around Pochi, caring for the little creature like she’s an extension of you. He wonders if this is what other people see when they note how well you take care of him.

“Give me fifteen minutes,” you tell Nabi and Sunghoon. “Or twenty. I don’t know. It’s Friday and my brain is fried.”

“Take your time, babe,” says Nabi with a wink. “I can’t have you forgetting things on your first weekend getaway since I’ve known you.”

“Yah. Stop patronizing me.”

“It’s what I’m here to do.”

Pochi meows faintly when you disappear around the corner, but Nabi scoops her up in her arms. Pochi doesn’t make a fuss and rests against the crook of Nabi’s elbow as Sunghoon smoothes over his pants, feeling awkward and out of place.

“You’re doing her a real favor by taking her on a vacation.”

“We’ll be two hours outside of Seoul. I hardly count that as a vacation.”

“To each their own,” Nabi says with a casual shrug. “She’s been working her ass off for the last few years. I haven’t known her as long as you have, of course, but I see her when she comes home.”

Sunghoon quirks an eyebrow. “And…what is she like? When she’s with you?”

“Someone who doesn’t know how to relax. She’s so good at anticipating what other people need and planning things, but I don’t think she’s truly had a day to herself without worrying about you.”

“I feel a little guilty about that.”

“Eh, that’s the job, right? If it makes you feel better, she says you’re one of the least demanding partners at your firm. She’s happy working for you instead of somebody else.”

His cheeks flush and he looks away for a moment. “Thanks. I tend to keep my work and my personal life separate, but it’s hard to keep that line when I spend so much time with her.”

“Oh, I can tell.” Nabi winks again and Pochi reaches her paw out towards Sunghoon like she knows something. He bites back an embarrassed laugh, but Nabi doesn’t seem to be judging him as he thought she might. “Look, I don’t know how long this has been going on, but you seem to be good for her. She’s happier, you know? No cloud above her head.”

“Really?”

She nods. “You and I both know she’s not the type of person to wear her heart on her sleeve. It takes time for her to warm up to people.”

He snorts. “Her brother says she’s like a cat.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Between you and me,” Sunghoon says, “I’ve liked getting to know this side of her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy either, now that I think about it.”

“Make this weekend count for something, okay?”

“I will. For what it’s worth, I think she wants to become closer with you, too, but doesn’t know how to do it. She calls you her neighbor, but talks about you like you’re Pochi’s aunt.”

“I had a feeling.” Nabi laughs and Sunghoon feels his shoulders ease. “I would consider her a friend. I wouldn’t be watching her cat if I didn’t. I assumed she probably felt the same way too, but based on our conversations, I think work and family get in the way of meaningful relationships.”

“You are a very perceptive person, Nabi.”

“I do try my best.” They share a laugh and hear you walking back from your bedroom.

“Talking shit about me?” you ask, putting your duffle bag by the door before slipping on a pair of sneakers.

“Duh. What else would Sunghoon and I talk about?”

“We should probably get going.”

Sunghoon says goodbye to Nabi and Pochi, and you give her another short cuddle session before Nabi forces you to leave. It pains you to leave Pochi, even if it’s just for the weekend, and Sunghoon gets this look on his face that you can’t seem to decipher when you finally look at him. Like a gentleman, Sunghoon carries your duffle bag and lets you hold your purse as you lock your door shut, saying goodbye to Pochi one last time. She juts her head towards Sunghoon unexpectedly, to which he flinches, and the three of you share a laugh.

You recognize the car he’s driving and silently curse him for being so wealthy. It’s my weekend car, Sunghoon once said to you offhandedly in the beginning of your career. Stick around long enough and you might get the privilege of riding in it.

“Are you excited?” Sunghoon asks once the two of you are in the car together. “I’m excited. I can't remember the last time I’ve been to this house.”

“Pfft. You take vacation all the time.”

“Business meetings in fancy places.” He dismisses you with a wave and drives off.

“Same difference.”

“Would you count our travel as vacation?” You remain silent. “Thought so.”

“Hmph. I hate when you’re right.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “Yeah, I know. That’s the first thing I learned about you when we started working together.”

“Anything else I should know.” He pretends to think.

“You’re really opinionated. Like, really opinionated. Even before you became comfortable with me, I knew you were holding yourself back.” You swat his bicep and pretend to be offended. “You’re just as opinionated as you were back then, except you’re outspoken about it. You’re the only assistant in that office who isn’t afraid to talk back to their boss.”

“That’s because you know I’m right most of the time.”

“Debatable, but I’ll let you keep thinking that.” You scowl and Sunghoon’s grin widens.

“Excuse me?! Who guides you through campaigns and projects? Who helps you with your publicity? Who makes sure you get what you need on time?”

“The office ghost. Duh.”

You laugh and relax back in your seat. “Yeah, I’ll admit that I can be brash sometimes.”

“Don’t mistake being opinionated for being too much,” he says. “I like it when you push back. You make me think about things differently and it makes work pretty fun.”

“I’ve always had people tell me I talk too much. I’ve started to think people should talk more, but there are moments where I think I should just shut up altogether.”

“Don’t stop talking just because some shitty people can’t appreciate you, okay? I say that as your boss and as a human being. People need to hear how stupid they are, and they need to know what you’re thinking. You’re like, a know-it-all machine.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s the best. You’re the best.”

“Now you’re just buttering me up.”

He laughs. “It’s what I know best.”

“Am I allowed to ask how long this drive will be?”

“No. Absolutely not. How dare you ask me such a question?”

You snort. “You’re such a loser.”

“Your loser.”

“Case in point.”

“Stop teasing me.” Sunghoon pouts and looks at you, but you shove his face away. “The drive’s about two hours away. The vacation home I’m taking us to belongs to my family and we all use it. We don’t really use it that often, though. I cleared it with them so we could have it to ourselves.”

“Do they know I’m coming too? I don’t want anyone to think I'm sleeping with my boss.”

“You are sleeping with your boss.”

“Yeah, but nobody knows that except for us, Nabi, and Sunoo.”

“Sunoo knows?”

“He’s my brother, Sunghoon. Even if I didn’t tell him, he’d probably guess.”

“Okay, fair.” He expertly switches lanes when you notice the veins on his hands. You try not to drool in front of him. “But no, none of them know as far as I can tell. I didn’t specify other than needing a break from the city and they didn’t ask. In fact, they’ve been telling me to take some time off, anyway. I’m pretty sure my mom cried of relief when I told her I wasn’t working on the weekend.”

“She has the sweetest soul,” you say. “Though, she cries at everything. She cried when you got her a custom cake for her birthday last year.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Sunghoon agrees with a laugh. “I think she cried the hardest when she realized I found someone to put up with me. She was worried I’d be too hard on you because the other two assistants before you were terrible at their jobs, and even more worried to think I’d have to handle all of this work on my own.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My mom was so excited when I told her the news because she saw how much I was struggling to find my footing without my dad. It’s a legacy company, as you know, and my dad brought it to the forefront in Asia. It was hard to step out of his shadow, and even some people of the older generation think of me as his son instead of a business partner.

“It doesn’t affect me anymore because my portfolio speaks for itself. But back then? Man, I was worried I would screw things up. My past assistants wouldn't tell me when I had meetings or remind me of deadlines, and I looked like a complete screw up. My anxiety got so bad that I had to take medication for it. But you came, knocked it out of the park, and the rest is history.”

“Wow…I never knew that. How come you’ve never told me you were struggling so much?”

“What’s past is past. My personal life wasn’t yours to deal with. You were getting used to the job anyway, and I figured you’d either succeed or burn out like the rest of them. There wasn’t any reason to tell you all of this and put more on your plate.”

“Huh. I don’t remember you being anxious at all,” you say. “In fact, I’ve always thought of you as headstrong and pretty confident.”

“I’m glad it came off that way. Fake it until you make it, right?”

You nod. “I hope you’re comfortable telling me when things aren’t okay, though. I think we’ve known each other long enough where you don’t need to hide things from me.:

Sunghoon reaches over and grasps your hand in his, giving you a gentle squeeze. He glances at you just briefly, but the eye contact is enough to make your heart race.

“I know,” he says slowly. “I trust you more than I trust anybody else in my life.”

The admission renders you speechless.

“All the other assistants are scared of you.” Sunghoon chuckles as you try to fill the silence and change the subject. To your surprise, he doesn’t let go of your hand and intertwined your fingers instead.

“Good. Everyone should be scared of me. I’m the big, bad, venture capitalist wolf.”

“You’re corny, is what you are.”

“That’s because you know the real me.”

“Ha-ha. I suppose that’s true, though. I think people still see you the way I did when we first started working together. You’re pretty stoic when you want to be.”

“My dad says that’s my greatest asset. I have a great poker face and it comes in handy when I negotiate business deals, especially when money is involved. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, as you know. Can’t be too careful.”

“You’re also really hot. Everyone tells me how lucky I am to work with the hot boss.”

“Oh?” Sunghoon asks, quirking an eyebrow. “Hot, you say?”

“Shut up. You know you’re hot.”

“I love that you think I am, too.” You fight off a blush.

“Egotistical jerk.” Sunghoon squeezes your hand again.

“I like it when you compliment me. You don’t do it often.”

“You need to earn it,” you say with a playful scoff. “You’re my boss. There’s no reason for me to tell you how good you are.”

“I’m not your boss when my mouth is on your pussy.”

You nearly choke. “S-Sunghoon.”

“What? It’s the truth. I like it when you tell me how I’m making you feel. It lets me know if I’m doing a good job or not.”

“Jesus. You’re so vulgar.”

“Nah. I’m just honest.”

Sunghoon brings your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it as if to soothe your thoughts. Even with how comfortable you are with him, this dynamic is new, and your inexperience makes the bashful side of you come forward. You’re getting better at relaxing around him, though. It’s not hard to let your guard down when you’re hopelessly in love with Sunghoon.

He’s gotten you off multiple times but you’ve never returned the favor, save the time you two masturbated together over the phone. But that hardly counts. You couldn’t see or touch him, only hear him. Sunghoon’s moans replay in your head the more you think about it and you try not to squirm in your seat and alert him in any way to save yourself from the embarrassment.

Is it so bad that you want to make Sunghoon come, too? You’ve built a thick exterior in the face of men because of the industry you work in. It’s like you run on autopilot and immediately push men to the sidelines because there isn’t enough time in the day for you to indulge in stupidity. But Sunghoon isn’t like that. He’s considerate and he’s never made you feel like you don’t have a seat at the table.

It makes you incredibly aroused to imagine yourself on your knees in front of Sunghoon with his body standing above you. Enough so that you confuse Sunghoon when you pull your hand away from his and put it on his knee.

“What—”

“Eyes on the road.”

Sunghoon gulps and looks straight ahead. He adjusts himself to sit up taller because something about your determined command makes him freeze on the spot. You get like this when you’re trying to convince him to change his mind at work. The tone of your voice, and that fact that your hand is on his fucking thigh, makes him feel insane.

You see it, too. Some emboldened part of you has come to terms with the fact that you’re hopelessly in love with Sunghoon after years of pretending you weren’t. He’s seen you naked and has made you orgasm more times than he’s ever let you touch him. Which, by your calculations so far, is never.

But now? Sunghoon can’t fight back and tell you to relax and enjoy yourself. He’s driving and needs to concentrate on not crashing the car instead of putting his mouth and fingers on you. You know he’ll tell you if he really wants you to stop, but you won’t because you like that he can’t get the satisfaction of making you come before he does.

His thigh tenses underneath your palm and you feel how muscular he is. It makes your mouth water when you think about what Sunghoon looks like fully naked. His pants don’t give you much to work with—they’re probably some expensive brand that makes him look casual and put together at the same time—but you see the outline of his hardening dick when you look at his lap.

The music in the background faded away for the both of you. Neither of you care that you have an hour left of the drive at this point. Sunghoon is laser focused on making sure the car doesn’t swerve, and you’re done holding your resolve back.

Your hand ghosts over his clothed dick and Sunghoon inhales a particularly sharp breath like he wasn’t expecting you to be this bold. Your fingertips barely graze the entirety of him and he’s already melting against you. He acts like he’s never been touched before with the way he sits and refuses to make eye contact with you or your hand.

He hardens underneath your touch the more you touch him. Sunghoon utility grunts when your hand cups his dick through his pants and he nearly jolts out of the driver’s seat when you do. You look at him in amazement and he sees you from the corner of his eye, willing his beating hard to remain still and keep the two of you from crashing onto the side roads.

“You’re so hard.”

You say it like an observation. You look at Sunghoon knowing he can’t look back, and some part of him thinks you enjoy torturing him when he can’t retaliate. Your hand makes work of his cock and you switch from squeezing him to slowly stroking over his pants.

“Getting comfortable?”

You chuckle. “More than that. I’ve wanted to know how big you are since the first night I stayed over.”

“What do you think?”

A smile he’s never seen you wear before dawns on your lips. It’s a mix between sly and mischievous, sultry and seductive. He almost thinks you’ve got him under some kind of spell with the way you’re looking at him.

“You don’t disappoint.”

It’s not what he expected to hear. And yet, some part of him wants to get you to tell him exactly what he wants.

Sunghoon licks his lips to distract himself from your hands that have undone his button. He tries to keep his foot steady on the gas pedal when he hears the zipper come down, revealing his boxers underneath. You don’t make a fuss about it, either. You aren’t as timid or as nervous as you’ve been the past two times Sunghoon has touched you. Instead, you act like a woman on a mission, and you’d be damned if anybody got in the way of what you want.

He nearly chokes when he sees you bend over the console. Your face hovers right above his lap and he’s praying to every entity he knows that he won’t crash the vehicle. Sunghoon risks a glance to his right and sees the way your body is arched to accommodate the small space, and he forces himself to look back on the road instead of reaching behind you to touch you.

When you start to pepper kisses on his covered dick, Sunghoon audibly moans. It makes you laugh against him and you hear the way the gas pedal accelerates just briefly before Sunghoon keeps himself in check. You test his limits when your hand comes to pull him out of his boxers.

The way you stare at his dick makes up for how nonchalant you were just moments ago.

Your eyes visibly widen and Sunghoon hears you swallow loudly. He smirks to himself and grips the steering wheel when you pull him out of his boxers completely and grip the base to accurately assess him. He’s fully hard, so hard that he thinks he might pull over and have his way with you. But he doesn’t want to have sex with you on a random street and would rather wait it out until he gets to his vacation home. Still, it pains him to not be able to watch you properly.

“So fucking big,” you whisper to yourself. A sense of pride blooms in Sunghoon’s chest. He’s heard women say this about him before because his length and girth leave nothing to doubt. But something about hearing you compliment him makes Sunghoon’s heartbeat irrationally fast.

He doesn’t know what to expect. You press a little kiss to his warm tip and he breathes through his nose while his knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. It’s cute, the way you kiss his dick from the top to the base. Sunghoon has never had a woman adore him like this before. He loves them eager and will never say no to having a tight throat around him, but he feels warmth spread all over his body when you kiss him there.

You clench in your seat when you start to envision yourself taking his dick in more ways than one. He’s ginormous and much bigger than you’ve ever taken before, and it excited you more than he knows. You find yourself nearly drooling the more you kiss on his dick and can’t help but let your tongue glide over his warm skin, relishing in the way Sunghoon moans from above you.

Curiously, you envelope the tip inside of your mouth. He’s big like this. Sunghoon grunts as you fit him between your lips and when he feels your hands push against his base for stability. You don’t rush yourself, either. You both know he’s far bigger than you’ve experienced before and for as eager as Sunghoon is, he’s become so aroused at the idea that you’re taking your time because you haven’t had the experience yet.

You’ve been keeping to yourself out of the fear of acting out of line when Sunghoon has been the one to initiate pleasure. He’s never asked for anything in return, nor has he ever expected you to get him off just because he did it for you. It makes you want to repay him, if not for all the orgasms, then for all of the times he’s made you feel good about yourself.

Sunghoon chokes when you push your mouth further onto him. Drool coats the corners of your mouth the more you take him and you take your time with the pace. There’s something about the quiet ambiance and the low volume music in the background that makes this moment feel that much more sensual. Whereas you’d feel inadequate should you have touched Sunghoon otherwise, you feel in control right now.

Your head comes back up to pull him out of your mouth before diving back in. Sunghoon’s hand cups the back of your head like he’s trying to stabilize himself while the other keeps his grip on the steering wheel.

“Shit. That’s so good.” He strokes your head with his thumb and it brings an odd sense of comfort, considering the fact that you have his dick in your mouth.

His naturally salty taste coats your tongue the more you push your head towards his lap. The tip hits the back of your throat with every passing moment and you find yourself clenching around absolutely nothing the more you push Sunghoon closer over the edge. His ragged breaths barely form moans because of how good he feels with your mouth on him.

“I’m close,” Sunghoon says through gritted teeth. He tells you as a warning so you can lift your head and be free from his come, but to his surprise, you don’t pull away from him. “Oh, fuck.”

He grips the back of your head with deadly force to pull and push your mouth. The gagging sounds of your spit egg him closer to his orgasm, and the way your hand stabilizes against his leg to move in tune with his movements makes him come straight into your mouth.

You still as soon as you feel his semen hit the back of your throat and choke on it. It tastes warm and salty, but uniquely Sunghoon. His grip on your hair loosens as he relaxes and you take this opportunity to swallow with his cock still in your mouth. Sunghoon hisses at the feeling but doesn’t push you off of him. He feels you lick his base and around his dick until he’s as clean as can be. You tuck him back in your pants and sit back in your seat.

From the corner of his eye, Sunghoon watches you push his come from the former of your mouth onto your thumb and lick it.

“You make me so fucking horny.” You chuckle and face him, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. “You’re a brat, you know that? Couldn’t even wait until we got to the house.”

“Dunno. You seemed to like it.”

You find humor in the sight of his softening cock against his pants and boxers, and tuck him back in carefully.

Sunghoon wills himself to remain soft for the remainder of the drive.

***

His vacation house is fairly modest. It isn’t the grand spectacle you expected, like his penthouse in Seoul. Instead, it’s quaint and beautiful like a suburban house on a hot summer’s day. The sun has already set and the dark blanket that covers the night sky shines with a billion stars. You’re happy to be here instead of the big city because you can actually see them.

Sunghoon smiles to himself when you make him look at the moon. It amuses him when you grab onto his arm and point to it, yet he finds himself basking in this moment as you unapologetically share your happiness with him.

You offer to help him carry bags inside, but he tells you not to worry about it since neither of you brought too much. Sunghoon tells you the passcode and you joke about how comfortable he must be with you to willingly give you the combination. It’s wildly fascinating how comfortable you are with Sunghoon away from work where nobody could ever see the two of you and make the assumption that you two are sleeping together when your careers could be put on the line. Here, you two are lovers.

He pulls you into the kitchen for some water and takes you on a grand tour of the house. It’s nothing like his place in Seoul, but it’s still beautiful altogether. Photos of his family adorn the walls and you stop to look at every picture of Sunghoon as a child, to which he tries to pull you away, but you don’t budge. He blushes even more when you kiss his cheek and comment how cute he is when he’s trying to act all nonchalant and cool in front of you.

Sunghoon’s attitude changes when he leads you to the primary bedroom, though. While this house is technically shared by his entire family, Sunghoon is the one who purchased it initially. Everybody uses the other guest bedrooms and have chosen designated ones for themselves when visiting the house. The room has elements of his decorative taste and reminds you of his house in Seoul. It’s elegant and sophisticated, neat and organized.

You’re not able to think about it too much because Sunghoon closes the door behind you and pulls you into his body for a kiss. With both hands steady on your waist, he pushes his plush lips against you until your back touches the wall. You gasp against his mouth and he drinks it up like it’s water.

“You deserve a reward for giving me the best head,” Sunghoon mutters against your mouth, tilting his head to kiss you deeper. One of his hands snakes its way to grasp your neck to make you look up at him. The subtle control he has on your body makes you even more aroused. “But I was going to do that anyway, since you’ve been such a good girl for me all this time.”

He moves your body quickly albeit gently until your back hits the mattress. Sunghoon climbs on top of you and pushes his head in the crook of your neck and begins peppering wet kisses along the skin, effectively making you screw your eyes shut with your back arching until your chest is pointed towards the ceiling. Sunghoon feels your hands wrap around his head as if to keep him there, and he moves to the other side of your neck.

Your legs part naturally and Sunghoon slots himself between them. It feels like a million volts of electricity are flowing through your body simultaneously without any way to stop them from overtaking your senses. You pull him impossibly closer to you and Sunghoon doesn’t complain when you slot your fingers in his hair and tug slightly at the roots.

“You stayed with me for six years and I’ve never properly appreciated you,” he says against your neck. His breath makes you shudder. “Can’t believe I’ve never shown you gratitude. Fuck me for treating you like some assistant.”

“Aren’t I?”

“No.” He kisses up your jawline until capturing your mouth into a harsh kiss that leaves your mind spinning. Sunghoon licks your bottom lip and pushes his tongue inside when you open your mouth.

He doesn’t elaborate further, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Sunghoon moves his head down to kiss over your neck again and moves across your collarbone before pushing your tank top sleeve off of your shoulder, pressing kisses along both of them as he works his way down your body.

You ache for him and he knows it when you push your chest against him. Sunghoon brings a hand to cup your left breast. He kneads it in between his fingers and moans against your skin when you sigh from above him. As if to ask for more, you tug on his hair again and he pulls your top town until you’re free from its confines.

“Holy shit,” he whispers as he stares at your naked chest. Sunghoon brings both hands to cup your breasts and gives them a gentle squeeze, watching as they slot in between his fingers. “Your tits are perfect.”

“Sunghoon,” you whine.

“Hm? Can’t handle it?”

You shake your head and he holds your eye contact as he licks both of your nipples one by one. It makes you whimper and Sunghoon lowers himself until his face is situated against your chest.

“You’re cute when you’re shy,” says Sunghoon. He doesn’t wait for your response and wraps his mouth around your right nipple, gently licking over the bud with his warm tongue.

For him to be as intimate as he is, it puts you at a different level. You can’t remember the last time a guy has made you feel as worshipped as Sunghoon. From the first few times he’s touched you until now, he acts like adorning your body with his is the only purpose he has in life.

His mouth is warm and wet. Sunghoon’s mouth tugging away at your nipple and squeezing your chest with his hands drives you crazy. You can’t help but thrust your hips right against him as a reaction. Sunghoon moans against you and switches his mouth to the other bud while kissing you all over the place.

Once your nipples are nice and erect, Sunghoon dips between your breasts and kisses the middle of your chest. He beckons you to lift yourself up just enough for him to remove your tank top from your body, flinging it somewhere behind you before he trails his mouth down your body.

Sunghoon puts open-mouthed kisses along your warm skin and you feel his ginormous hands slide down your body. It’s like he’s holding you in place the more he leaves wet kisses on you until he reaches the sweatpants you’re wearing. Sunghoon takes it off with ease until you’re left in nothing but your underwear.

“I need to taste you again.” He licks your covered cunt with the surface of his tongue. “Can’t fucking get enough.”

Sunghoon pulls the fabric down your legs and once he’s discarded them, he pulls you closer to his face and shoves his tongue in between your folds. There’s no warning or any precursor. He eats you whole and devours your body with his mouth.

He pushes his face deeper into you until his nose brushes against your clit. You lose all of your inhibitions and roll your hips against his face while bringing your hands to steady him in place, which makes him moan right into your body. The vibrations send your mind into a frenzy and you think you might as well be drunk.

Sunghoon relishes in the string of moans coming from your mouth and grows more eager to get you off with every second that passes by. His drool coats the entirety of your cunt and he switches between forcefully thrusting his tongue inside of you, and licking up your slit like he’s afraid he’ll miss a drop of your wetness.

“She’s so wet for me,” he says when he finally pulls back. There’s a string of spit that connects your cunt with his bottom lip and Sunghoon quickly bends down to lick it up. “Just for me, yeah?”

You nod feverishly, entangling your fingers in his hair. “Just for you.”

“So fucking pretty, too.” He brings his fingertips to your entrance and grazes over your swollen clit, brushing them across your slit. It makes your body feel like it may as well be on fire.

“More,” you plead. “I need more.”

“Baby needs my fingers too, huh?” he taunts. Sunghoon pushes the entirety of his middle finger inside of you and curls it on the downward push. You clench around him and grip the bed sheets beside you for stability. “She’s so greedy.”

You look at him but he isn’t focused on you anymore. Sunghoon stares at your lap and you become acutely aware of the fact that you are completely naked while he’s still fully clothed. His sleeves are rolled to his elbow while his vein-covered arm is thrusting in and out of you. It makes you roll your eyes backwards and arch your back up into the air, and Sunghoon smirks while adding another finger. Even this feels like it’s too much. You don’t relent, however, and clench around his fingers.

“Your pussy is so tight from just this. I wonder what you’ll feel like around my cock.”

“Make me cum and you might find out.”

“Oh? You think you can talk back to me?” He pistons his fingers in and out of you with intense, rapid precision. You don’t know how Sunghoon manages to leave you speechless, save for the wanton moans that echo in his bedroom. “You think you can speak when I’m making you moan like that?”

“D-Dick.”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon says with a smirk. “A big one, too.”

“S-Shut up.” He ignores you.

“You’re close, I can tell.”

Sunghoon bends down and moves his tongue against your pussy along with his fingers pushing in and out. He swallows your wetness and the slick he’s pulling out of you like an oasis. Sunghoon doesn’t bother looking at you, either. He’s laser focused on the task at hand and isn’t afraid to moan against you, too, letting you know just how good he feels getting you off.

Your body starts to convulse the more he plunges his fingers inside of you. With the added sensation of his warm mouth moving to your clit to suck on the sensitive bud, it’s no surprise that you come against him with a loud moan.

“Keep it coming,” he beckons. “Give me your fucking cum and let me taste you like this.”

Who are you to deny him?”

You buck your hips while Sunghoon keeps you between him and the mattress, pinning your body to the sheets below. His face chases your hips when you move and thrash your body around like he’s trying to tame a wild animal. You certainly feel like one. You’ve suddenly let go of all your inhibitions and stopped feeling insecure about Sunghoon looking at you and touching you like this. There’s no second guessing when it comes to him pleasuring you. Sunghoon looks like he needs to or else he’ll die.

Maybe it’s the years spent alongside him. Maybe it’s the weeks you’ve spent being taken out to fancy dinners with an all expenses-paid meal that you don’t have to think about. Or, maybe it’s the fact that Sunghoon has never given you the impression that you’re lacking in the bedroom after years of trying to find good sex. People say it comes naturally and you’ve been tired of waiting. He brings out something in you that you’ve never felt before.

Is this what it means to yearn? To burn? To desire someone?

When your hips fall back down, Sunghoon pulls his fingers out and clutches your waist with both hands to lick up the remnants of your orgasm around your folds before moving across the inside of your thighs to lick up your slick. He moves his tongue gently, a nice juxtaposition compared to mere seconds prior. He licks you in long, relaxed stripes that make the come down that much smoother.

Sunghoon hums when you put your hands back in his hair. You don’t tug on it this time and match the sensitivity he’s showing you. You assume he must like it when his hair is played with because he purrs against you like a kitten while drinking from its milk bowl. His hair is soft but thick, no doubt laced with expensive hair products he’s asked you to replenish a million times. They work for him, though, because his hair feels like you’re touching an expensive fabric.

“You are unreal,” Sunghoon mumbles before pressing one last kiss to your bud. He pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before bending down to kiss you. It’s tender and soft, and you try not to smile too much.

“Your mouth is magical,” you say in a drunken daze. “That tongue…”

“Complimenting me now, are we?”

You huff out a laugh and sit up, tugging on the bottom of Sunghoon’s shirt before he gets the hint and takes it off of him. His sculpted body looks like it was created from clay by a master of ceramics, each chisel of his rigid abdomen prominent and calling your name. You bring your hand to touch him there and feel him tense beneath you. You don’t pay any mind to the way he’s staring at you while you’re busy exploring his body.

This must be what he felt like when he saw you naked for the first time. You’re at a loss for words and it’s like your mind has gone completely berzerk. You don’t know what to do next or where to look. His broad shoulders are enticing you, but at the same time, his defined biceps make you want to sink your teeth into his skin and never let go. Would he be into that?

Sunghoon is uncharacteristically quiet. He doesn't make a remark or send a quip your way about how he’s managed to render you speechless. Instead, he looks at you like he can’t believe he’s in this position with your naked body right in front of him, touching his chest like you’re the first person to discover treasure. You can feel the goosebumps on his pectorals and move your way to his shoulder, grazing down his arm until finally landing at the belt buckle that immediately brings you back to sucking him off in the car.

“You’re looking at me like you want to eat me,” Sunghoon says, breaking the silence.

“And if I wanted to?”

Sunghoon removes your hand from his belt buckle and stands from the mattress to face you on the bed. Without losing eye contact, he unbuckles his belt and pulls the zipper down slowly, savoring every reaction from you. He doesn’t mind that your eyes flicker from his own to his crotch because he keeps his eyes on you. He doesn’t care that you start to ignore him for his dick. In fact, Sunghoon feels emboldened in a way he’s never felt before. Other women love him for his cock. He thinks you might like him for that and much more, too.

When Sunghoon steps out of his clothing, you crawl on your hands and knees until your face is met with the sight of his erection. It stands tall and proud, facing you as if trying to say it’s ready for your mouth. Sunghoon watches you push half of him down your throat with relative ease after giving him a blowjob in the car, and his face contorts into that of pleasure.

He looks like Adonis when he’s being pleasured. This realization sparks a fire within you and it makes you wonder what kind of sounds and expressions you can pull out of him. Too turned on to care about the consequences of your sudden actions, you push your head as far down his dick as you can while hollowing your cheeks to allow room for air and comfort as you start to rock your mouth against him.

The wet sounds make this whole ordeal that much hotter. Sunghoon widens his stance to accommodate your body and watches you arch your back with your ass up in the air. You watch him lose his mind and stare at you for a moment before throwing his head back when you look up at him. You try to smirk with him in your mouth and use your arm as leverage in order to push even more of him down your throat.

“Fuck. You’re so good at this.”

A momentum builds. You don’t know if it’s because Sunghoon keeps muttering curse words every time your tongue passes his veins or because of the erotic sounds coming from your mouth, but you naturally push yourself against him faster. Sunghoon loses himself in you too, and begins to rock his hips back and forth to meet your movements. His hands come to hold your hair in place and when he tugs at the roots for stability, you moan against his dick.

Sunghoon grunts while pushing himself deeper into your mouth, but you don’t stop him. It stings and it aches, but the feeling of his girth making room down your throat feels like you’re chasing after some kind of near unattainable high. It’s thrilling, the way Sunghoon’s resolve melts completely. His hips thrust faster as he mouth fucks you with the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. He moans deeply when you choke on him and can’t find it in him to tell you just how good you’re making him feel.

“I have to fuck you,” Sunghoon says breathlessly. “I have to or I might die.”

You don’t have time to react because he’s pushing you on your back and hovering his body above yours. You gulp when you feel him slot the underside of his dick right onto your bare lap and clench around nothing when you see the way Sunghoon is measuring just how big he is against you.

“I’ll be right there.” He uses the tip of his dick to point at the deepest part of you, and it makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan.

Sunghoon rocks himself until his slit is gliding across your wet slit. The sound echoes like a soft splash the more he moves himself back and forth. You’re positive he can feel the way you start to clench with every passing second, making you whine and beg for him without meaning to.

“Put it in.”

“My cock?” Sunghoon asks innocently, dipping the head inside before pulling it out to resume grinding it against you. He dips it inside once again before pulling it out, and you feel like you’ve completely lost your mind at the anticipation.

“I need it,” you say in a fit of desperation. “P-Please give it to me.”

“I love it when you beg,” Sunghoon replies, dipping himself inside of you once again just to pull out. You watch his entire shudder as he holds himself back from properly putting himself inside of your cunt. “I never see this side of you. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Sunghoon dips the tip inside of your folds, but he doesn’t pull out. With his hand gripped at his base, he watches as his dick disappears inside of you slowly, pushing half an inch at a time in order to savor the feeling of your tight walls wrapping him inside of you. Your breathing becomes irregular with every passing move and Sunghoon looking like a Greek god from above you doesn’t help slow your heart beat.

“Condom?” You shake your head.

“Birth control.”

He keeps his mouth wide open like he’s staring at something completely unbelievable the more he watches himself push inside of you until he’s managed to sheath himself completely to the brim.

“Tight,” Sunghoon hisses, keeping himself lodged inside of you without pulling away. “So goddamn tight. It’s been a while since you’ve been fucked, hasn’t it?”

“I…”

“It’s okay.” He pulls out slowly and pushes then himself back in, making you feel just as full as the first time. “I’m here to fix that.”

The room is so hot and heavy with passion and euphoria. Sunghoon’s dick glistens with your slick and his precum, and it’s making the glide that much easier the faster he goes. The drag against your walls makes you feel like you’re orbiting another planet. You cling onto Sunghoon’s shoulder for dear life and claw at his back when he snaps his hips into yours once you’ve pulled his body closer to you.

It’s like the two of you are trying to crawl into each other’s skin. Sunghoon pushes the entirety of his weight onto you and you hold him there like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go of him. His body is warm and sticky with sweat from being in this hot room all night without any of the windows cracked open, but you don’t care. You love seeing Sunghoon lose his inhibitions and control you the way he’s always wanted to.

He pins your body in between his and the mattress while pulling his hips back just to push into you harshly. The smacks bounce off of the walls while he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and messily kisses your skin with his hot breath. He pushes around his saliva with his tongue the more he kisses on your neck, and you wrap your legs around him when you feel your body let go. It’s hard to keep yourself quiet when you’re with Sunghoon.

“Coming already?” he says with a grunt. It’s a mix between amusement and satisfaction. Sunghoon pulls himself away from your neck to peer below him where the two of you are connected and temporarily thrusts at a quicker pace when he sees your cum coating his cock. He groans in disbelief and pistons his hips against your until temporarily stilling inside of you once he feels you clench around him. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

Sunghoon positions his palms until they’re on either side of your head. The new angle allows him to reach you deeper, hitting your sweet spots in a way no one has before. His muscles keep him balanced and upright on his bed while you spread your legs even wider than before to accommodate his body between yours.

He looks and sounds like absolute sine when he fucks you. No amount of wet dreams could ever compare to the real thing.

“O-Oh my God,” you choke. “Keep going. I-I’m gonna come again.”

“Shit, baby. Give it to me right now or I’ll stop,” Sunghoon says, his hips meeting yours ferociously. Albeit much weaker after having orgasmed twice before, you manage to finish on his cock for the third time in the span of one evening and clutch the sheets between your fingers until you see little stars against your closed eyes.

Sunghoon pistons his hips faster and faster when he focuses on your face. You peek your eyes open once you’ve gained some semblance of reality and watch as he moans with his mouth open and eyes trained on you–your chest, your neck, your lips–before he spills inside of you.

“F-Fuck,” he grunts. “Take my cum like the good girl I know you are.”

It’s warm and sticky, pooling from between your bodies with the sheer volume that’s coming from him. Sunghoon doesn’t stop to push it all out at once. Instead, he continues his fast, rough pace and slams his hips against yours as he continues to spill his come inside of your pussy. His arms grow weaker and weaker by the second, and you see him start to lose his balance the more he comes down from his high.

He doesn't completely stop fucking you, either. Not when you’ve started to relax. Not when he’s collapsed onto your chest.

Sunghoon still manages to subtly move his dick in a slow drag. It stings in all the right ways and the friction makes your legs ache, but you don’t ask him to get off of you. Sunghoon peppers kisses onto your jawline and uses his hands to soothe your sweaty forehead, pushing away any hair that comes in front of your eyes.

Yeah, you’ll admit that it feels fucking amazing to be doted on like this. Sunghoon doesn’t rush to get off of you and leave you to clean up after yourself. He’s still lodged inside you, semi-hard even after orgasming. Sunghoon kisses you as if to remind you that he’s still with you while his hands touch every available part of your body he can find.

In the years you’ve known him, you’ve learned that Sunghoon is a man of few words when it comes to his feelings. He can talk, but he doesn’t say much. He’s the kind of person to show you how he feels through his actions, and you’re starting to feel like he might care about you with the way he isn’t letting you go.

“You’re incredible,” he mumbles against your jaw. His lips feel nice and soft. “I can’t believe we waited so long to do this.”

“I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

He chuckles and scrapes your skin with his teeth. “Good. Can’t have you tarnishing my reputation now.”

“You have a reputation?” He shakes his head.

“Nah. Just wanted to get a rise out of you.”

“You’re so stupid.” You laugh anyway and kiss him when he puts his lips on yours.

“Hope you’re not tapping out now. I’ve got years of good sex to make up for.”

“What?”

Sunghoon turns your body over until your stomach and chest are against the mattress. He slots himself in between your legs and pulls them apart just enough for him to rest his tip against your slit. You feel his hands grip your hips to pull you into a small arch, presenting even more of himself to you.

“Didn’t think we were done, did you?”

Sunghoon slides right back in.

***

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the-unidentified-author · 17 days ago

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To Love Is to Antagonize | LT. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd | Top Gun: Maverick

Warnings/ Tags: SMUT[NSFW], teasing, slow build, slow burn?, sly glances, shy Bob, not so shy Bob, rough, loving, talks you through it, reader wears a bikini, no descriptions of the readers body, horny bob, frustrated bob, shirtless bob, unprotected p in v, you have to keep quiet, hand over mouth, bob knows what hes doing, bobs hand on readers body, truth or dare, mention of boobs, breeding kink? consensual!

Summary: A camping trip with the squad is the perfect opportunity for you to get to know Bob a little better. But, of course things can't ever be easy. Nat decides that the best way for you to finally get to jump, Bobs bones is if you antagonize him until the shy, polite part of him gives way to the feral, dirty minded freak he really is.

A/n: I had to split this into individual parts as editing a huge chunk of text actually almost fried my brain. Only the first chapters are posted here because this fic is LONG. There is a link HERE, and at the bottom of this post to the completed fic on AO3. Enjoy!

This fic is inspired by the plan ; robert 'bob' floyd by @geminiwritten, I couldn't stop thinking about it, I think it changed my brain chemistry. Give it a read! If you haven't already!!!

Word Count: 29,075

Not my gif, if its yours and you would like me to remove it just ask <3

I think this is one of the longest, fully completed fics that I have ever written. I don’t even care if there are mistakes and if it’s shit. I had so much fun writing it and I am fucking proud that I finished it!!!

Chapter 1:

The late afternoon sun slanted through the half-open blinds, painting the cluttered room with warm, golden light. You were sitting cross-legged on the scuffed hardwood floor, your backpack propped open beside you like a hungry mouth, methodically sorting through the piles of camping gear strewn around you.

Phoenix, your roommate and perennial mischief-maker, lounged on the mussed bed, idly tossing a balled-up sock in the air and catching it with a flourish. Their dark eyes danced with suppressed laughter, and you could practically see the gears turning in their head.

"Hey," Phoenix said suddenly, a grin spreading across her face like a slow sunrise. "You notice how Bob's been acting around you lately?"

You looked up from your packing, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. "What do you mean?"

Phoenix snorted, rolling her eyes with exaggerated patience. "Come on, don't play dumb. He's been all flustered and tongue-tied, tripping over himself whenever you're nearby. It's adorable, really."

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile as you turned back to your gear. "He does not."

"Does too!" Phoenix retorted, sitting up with a smirk. "I bet he's got a massive crush on you. He's just too shy to make a move."

You scoffed, reaching for a rolled-up sleeping bag and tucking it into your backpack with a little more force than necessary. "You're imagining things. Bob's just… Bob. He's like that with everyone."

"Nope. I know what I see," Phoenix insisted, leaning forward with a conspiratorial wink. "Mark my words, something's gonna happen on this trip. All those long, moonlit walks in the woods? The romantic campfire stories? It's the perfect setup."

You crossed your arms, giving Phoenix a skeptical look. “Hardly romantic—the whole squad's going to be there. Plus, Bob’s just shy. He’s like that with everyone.”

Phoenix grinned, leaning back on her elbows, unshaken. “Exactly. That’s what makes it even more adorable. Shy guys are always the most intense when they finally get the guts to make a move. And trust me, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s not just friendly.”

You rolled your eyes, stuffing a few more socks into your pack. “He’s probably just nervous. It’s a big trip, big group—don’t overthink it.”

Phoenix snorted softly, eyes narrowing playfully. “Nope. I think he's got it bad—secretly scripting long walks, staring at your profile while pretending to be lost in thought. Trust me, I’ve seen those little glances—you’re not that oblivious, right?”

You let out an exasperated breath, shaking your head. “Please. It’s all in your head. Bob’s a nice guy, but I think you’re reading way too much into it.”

Phoenix sat up, her expression turning playful but insistent. “You’re missing the signs. Those subtle hints? The way he fidgets around you, trying to hide how much he’s staring? That’s crush 101. And I’m telling you, something’s gonna happen—probably accidental, probably sweet. But definitely happening.”

You sighed, feeling a mixture of amusement and awkwardness. “You’re impossible.”

Phoenix grinned wider, crossing her arms exaggeratedly. “Hey, I’m just saying—if I were him, I’d be too nervous to say anything directly.”

You blinked, caught between amusement and a little flutter of nerves. “You’ve got enough confidence for both of us.”

Phoenix leaned in slightly, a sly smile curling her lips. “Maybe. Or perhaps I just know how these things work. The subtle signals, the waiting game. Trust me, this trip’s going to turn into something pretty interesting.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Even if you’re right, it doesn’t matter. Bob’s far too shy to admit anything, even if he’s got a crush. He’s polite and nervous—he wouldn’t make a move, not even if I practically waved it in his face.”

Phoenix’s eyes sparkled with mischief, a grin tugging at her lips. “That’s precisely where you come in. You just need to drive him absolutely insane—that’s how you’ll get his attention.”

You looked at her, skeptical. “What? How?”

Phoenix sat forward, excitement laced her words. “Listen—I’m talking about just enough teasing, a little flirtation. Show him a little more of that smile, a little suggestive glance now and then. And the best way? Giving him glimpses of your cleavage—nothing crazy, just enough to make his head spin. Make him realise what he’s been missing.”

You felt your cheeks flush but tried to stay nonchalant. “You want me to flirt with him?”

Phoenix winked, eyes glinting with scheming amusement. “Exactly. You’re gorgeous—what’s the worst that could happen? Just enough teasing that he starts second-guessing everything, wondering if you’re interested. When he finally gets it—trust me, the guy’s a man, manners can only hold him back for so long.” She grinned wider. “You’re the one who’s got the power in this game. Just give him enough glimpses, enough softly spoken hints, and watch him unravel. He won’t be able to resist eventually.”

You raised an eyebrow, struggling not to smile. “You want me to blue-ball, poor Bob?”

Phoenix snorted, batting you lightly with the balled-up sock. “Please, it’s not about torturing him. This might be the only way to get him to actually admit he likes you.” She paused, eyes sparkling. “Shy boys never just come out and say it. You have to make it so obvious they can’t help themselves. But honestly, isn’t that half the fun?”

You snorted, cheeks warming. “So I just flirt him into a confession?”

She grinned, clearly enjoying herself. “Exactly! Shy boys are always so much fun—every glance, every accidental brush, it drives them wild. It’s adorable. Besides, you like a chase too, don’t you?”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to meet her gaze, though you felt that flutter of anticipation. “Maybe. Just a little.”

Phoenix nudged your leg with her foot, her grin impossibly wide. “Trust me. If you want him to make a move, this is the way. It’ll be fun for both of you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling now. “You’re dangerous, Phoenix.”

She winked. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Just start with a few smiles and a little less hoodie—he won’t know what hit him.”

Chapter 2:

The gravel crunched beneath your boots as the squad clustered in the busy car park, vehicles parked haphazardly, gear spilling out. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow, shadows stretching long as everyone prepared to head into the woods.

Jake sparred with Bradley, both bouncing on their toes, fists raised. Jake’s grin was wide, teasing as he threw quick jabs, while Bradley’s smirk matched his playful aggression, both clearly enjoying themselves.

Reuben was doubled over, roaring with laughter, while Mickey stared at the map, eyebrows raising as he took in the scene. “Wait, wait—what? So, we’re hiking before setting up camp? I thought we just show up, pitch tents, and chill,” Mickey said, shaking his head with a weird mix of surprise and annoyance.

Reuben chuckled, smacking Mickey on the back. “Dude, you seriously thought they were just gonna drive us here and call it a day? Nah, buddy. You gotta earn your s'mores.”

Mickey looked genuinely puzzled, crossing his arms. “Nah, I just thought—y’know, a chill weekend. I didn’t expect a full hike before we even set up.” He shrugged, a wide grin curling his lips. “But, hey, I’ll survive. Just didn’t plan on breaking a sweat today, that’s all.”

Phoenix leaned casually against a van, arms crossed, enjoying the scene with her usual mischievous smile. She shot you a quick glance, clearly amused. “Well, Mickey, think of it as pre-camping cardio. Nothing like a good hike to kick off the weekend, right?”

Meanwhile, standing near the back, Bob was perfectly still. His backpack was already on, buckled tight, everything arranged with military precision—every strap and pocket exactly in place. His gear was spotless, each item meticulously packed, as if he had just stepped out of uniform instead of the chaos of the car park.

He watched quietly, calm and composed, like he’d seen it all before—the sparring, the teasing, the group’s playful fuss. His gaze flicked over Jake and Bradley still going at it, Mickey’s reaction, everyone joking around, but his posture remained steady, as if ready for whatever unfolded next.

You caught his eye for a split second, and he offered you a shy smile before awkwardly shifting his focus back to your teammates. His demeanour was as sharp and precise as his gear—completely at ease, almost military in how ready he seemed to face whatever came.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm amber glow over the busy car park. Vehicles scattered in every direction, gear spilling out like a jumble of chaos. The smell of fresh pine and earth drifted in the air as everyone started to gather their packs.

Natasha, or Nat as everyone called her, pushed off from the van with a confident grin. "Alright, folks, let's get moving before the sun dips too low. No dilly-dallying—get those boots clicking."

She glanced around at the excited crowd, her eyes twinkling. “You all good on your gear? No forgotten snacks or emergency marshmallows?” she added with a mischievous wink.

Jake clapped Bob on the back, a friendly, almost teasing gesture that made Bob straighten his glasses and adjust his already pristine gear with practiced precision. He let himself be led by the group, his posture steady and military-precise, ready for whatever was coming next.

The others grabbed their packs, slinging bags over shoulders and exchanging quick, energetic glances. With a collective nod, they turned toward the trail leading into the woods, footsteps crunching on gravel as they began their trek.

Natasha’s eyes shifted from the group to you. She sidled up quietly, lowering her voice so just you could hear. “Hey, have you packed everything we agreed on for Operation Flirt with bob until he breaks and jumps your bones?”

Your eyes flicked to her, and she grinned mischievously. Without missing a beat, she leaned in close, whispering with a conspiratorial wink, “You know… the whole mission to make Bob think he’s missing out on the best thing that’s ever happened to him’”

She gave you a playful nudge. “Think you’re ready for it?”

"As I will ever be." you replied with a shake of your head and a soft smile.

The trail narrowed as you followed the group into the shade of the pines, leaves crunching beneath your boots. When you’d packed with Nat, she’d settled on your hiking outfit with gleeful precision: tight black cycling shorts that clung to your thighs and left nothing for the imagination, paired with a slick, supportive sports bra—probably the most engineering you’d ever worn under your clothes. You’d thrown a zip-up hoodie on top, tugged just low enough to almost hide the curve of your breasts, though not quite.

Nat had eyed you critically before you left, giving a brisk nod of approval. “Perfect. Athletic, strategic, and just distracting enough. Plenty for him to think about while pretending he’s focused on the route.”

Now, as the hike stretched on, bits of sunlight filtered down through the branches, occasionally catching on the bare length of your legs or the hint of your silhouette beneath the hoodie. Each time the trail bent, or you adjusted your straps, you felt eyes on you—Bob’s eyes, in particular. He tried valiantly to keep his gaze front and centre, but every few minutes, he’d look your way, glasses glinting, cheeks suspiciously warm, quickly shifting his focus back to his boots.

You feigned obliviousness, letting your conversation drift loosely around Nat, Mickey, and the others ahead. A casual laugh, a stretch overhead to fix your backpack strap, revealing just a sliver more skin. Bob, walking beside you, never said a word about it. But the hush in his throat, the way he fumbled with his water bottle, the uncharacteristic distraction in his step—all gave him away.

His composure stayed in place by sheer force of will, but every so often he'd fidget with his gear, or awkwardly clear his throat, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

The trees finally opened onto the edge of a small lake, sunlight flickering silver and gold across the rippling surface. The campsite itself was tucked beneath a tall stand of pines, the ground carpeted with needles and moss so soft it muted every step. Birdsong drifted down from somewhere high in the branches, and the water lapped gently against the stones lining the shore. To one side, a weathered fire pit marked the heart of the clearing, already circled by flat-topped logs and half-buried stones for makeshift seating. Across the water, a distant ridge glazed in late-afternoon light promised privacy and peace—your group the only intruders on a scene so still it almost felt untouched.

Mickey shrugged off his pack with a huff, bending from the waist and letting it fall with an exaggerated grunt. “Honestly, that was at least twice the walk it looked on the map,” he groaned, but his complaints trailed off as he turned to the water, unable to hide a wide, genuine smile. “This is gorgeous, though. Totally, worth it.”

The others scattered, Jake and Bradley immediately making a beeline for the fire pit, clapping each other on the back as they poked at the charred logs and debated how best to arrange things. Reuben was already eyeing the shoreline, calculating the best spot to drop his gear and maybe sneak in a stone-skimming contest before dark. Bob, immaculate as ever, had set down his pack and was surveying the perimeter—probably cataloguing landmarks and escape routes, you thought, amused.

As you stretched your arms and let your muscles relax, Natasha sidled up, her face bright with playful intent. She nudged your side, voice low and brimming with delight. “So,” she whispered, not even glancing at the lake, “did you see the way Bob couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole hike up here? He’s lucky he didn’t walk straight into a tree.”

You shot Natasha a sly look, unable to keep the smile off your face. “How long do you think it’ll take before he finally snaps and says something?”

Natasha grinned, eyes sparkling as she surveyed the group’s bustling chaos. “That depends. If you’re planning to keep up the subtle torture, I’d give it another day. But if you really want to push him over the edge…” She arched a brow in your direction. “You did bring that absolutely scandalous bikini, didn’t you?”

Heat crept into your cheeks—part nerves, part excitement. “Maybe. Though I might need a bodyguard if I actually walk out in it. It’s barely more than a couple of strings.”

Natasha barked a quiet laugh. “Perfect. Honestly, after the day we’ve had, a dip in the lake is non-negotiable tomorrow morning. I want to see if Bradley and Jake can actually swim, or if they just flex near the shore.”

You nudged her side, lowering your voice. “You’re just hoping Bob short-circuits.”

“I’m hoping everyone short-circuits,” she shot back, grinning. “We’ll swim, you will act normal, and I will watch Bob for a reaction. Tomorrow?” She glanced up at the fading sun. “I’m thinking coffee by the lake at sunrise. Possibly an early swim—just the two of us. That’ll set the mood for the whole day.”

You spun an innocent look her way. “You mean, Operation break bob, phase two?”

Natasha’s grin grew wicked. “Exactly. Tonight campfire, stories, and just enough flirting that Bob can’t sleep. Tomorrow, bikini entrance and a whole new level of distraction. Ready for it?”

You looked out at the water, sunlight gleaming off the small ripples, feeling anticipation buzz along your skin. “Absolutely. Let’s make this a trip to remember.”

Chapter 3:

The path down by the lake rippled with the gold of the lowering sun. You tugged your hoodie back on, leaving your pack behind for the short walk, and Bob fell into step beside you. Before you’d even left the rough mossy boundary of the campsite, he paused and crouched beside his pack—already arranged in a neat, regulation-perfect stack. With practiced ease, he unzipped a small pocket and pulled out a slim foldable saw, testing the hinge before stashing it in his back pocket.

You blinked, caught somewhere between admiration and amusement. Of course, Bob came prepared for everything, but it still surprised you—the rest of you just grabbed sticks and hoped for the best, but Bob had clearly thought this through.

He glanced at the tree line with a quiet sort of certainty. “Best place for dry wood’s usually up by the rocks,” he said, as the two of you stepped out into the deepening green. “It stays out of the wind and the ground drains faster. Less likely to be rotted.”

You shot him a sidelong smile, letting the admiration show just a little. “No wonder Nat keeps you as her back seater,” you teased, falling into step beside him as you followed the trail toward the rocks. “You’re like a human survival manual—she’ll never let you out of her sight with skills like that.”

A faint flush crept up Bob’s neck. He ducked his head, but not before you caught the ghost of a proud, shy smile flickering across his face. “Well, she likes things to run smooth,” he mumbled, adjusting his grip on the saw. “It’s easier to be prepared. I like making sure nothing gets missed.”

You nudged him lightly, grinning. “And here I thought you just wanted an excuse to show off all your special gear. Very impressive.”

He laughed softly, the sound low and genuine, glasses slipping a fraction down his nose. “Trust me—if I was showing off, I’d have brought the portable espresso machine.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Next trip, then?”

This time, he glanced over, braver somehow. “Deal.”

The rocks tumbled in mossy clusters, and Bob scanned the ground until he found a branch that looked promising. He appraised a fallen pine, then knelt, rolling up his sleeves with a practiced flick. The muscles in his forearms flexed beneath golden skin as he braced the saw and set to work.

You let your gaze linger, indulging for just a moment—the slice of his jaw in profile, the almost methodical way he worked, each motion deliberate. There was a quiet concentration to him, the steady back-and-forth of the saw and the way the light caught on his dampening hairline. If Phoenix could see you now, she’d be snickering in the underbrush.

Bob paused, breath shallow, and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “This wood is stubborn,” he said, not quite meeting your eyes, chest rising and falling with the effort.

You offered him a teasing smile, stepping closer but not quite taking over. “I’m impressed. Honestly, I thought you were all brains and field manuals—but you’re not so bad with your hands, either.”

He glanced at you then, startled, and for a beat you let your gaze drop—lingering, suggestive—before you grinned and bent to begin gathering the cut branches. Bob coughed, looking suddenly desperate to concentrate solely on the saw, but you didn’t miss the flush creeping up his neck again.

Your mind wandered wickedly: there was something undeniably hot about Bob like this, strips of sunlight freckling his arms, intent on the task, something less shy and more commanding taking over as he worked. If this was what a camping trip could offer, you’d gladly volunteer for wood-gathering duty every time.

You let your fingers graze his as you reached for a branch, close enough that he’d feel it—a quiet spark under the guise of teamwork. He flinched slightly, then immediately pulled his hand back, cheeks flushed.

“S-sorry, that was—my fault,” he stammered, though you both knew it wasn’t. He looked at the ground as if willing it to swallow him.

You fought the urge to smile, a quiet satisfaction blooming in your chest. Phoenix would have a field day if she could see him now.

He collected himself and cleared his throat, not quite meeting your eyes. “I think we’ve got enough,” he managed, stacking the freshly cut branches at his feet. “We should, um… gather it up and head back.”

You nodded, biting back a smirk. If your goal was to gently rattle him, you were definitely on the right track. Without another word, you stooped to gather the wood—close enough that your shoulders touched for just a heartbeat longer than necessary. As you straightened, you caught the brief hesitation in his peripheral gaze, his eyes lingering at the edge of your hoodie for a moment too long. You pretended not to notice, busying yourself with the smooth rhythm of stacking branches.

Then you started back toward camp, feeling the heat of his stolen glances still trailing after you all the way through the dappled light.

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eclipsaria · 2 months ago

Text

Summary // The East Kingdom's prince was known to die in a very tragic way. But it was still unknown and controversial until now. No one knew who he got married to, or why he died. That was what made her interested in his story.

Things started to change when she accidentally travelled back in time to 300 years ago. Now it was her chance to find out what happened to the prince.

Pairing:

King's brother! The8 x time traveller! Reader

Warnings:

Historical, romance, time travel, angst, sword fight

Side characters:

SVT Woozi(his chinese name)

W/C:

15 558

Rating: [ 13+ SFW ]

Note:

Inspired by -> My Next Life as a Villianess: All Routes Lead To Doom(anime)

Song:

Main Masterlist

Seventeen Masterlist

Taglist

Pt 1 | Pt 2

The highlighter in your hand hovered over the same sentence for what felt like the hundredth time. You let out a long sigh and tossed the pen aside, slumping back onto your bed. The textbook stayed open on your lap, taunting you with lines you'd already memorized. Ancient Civilizations II. A subject that sounded exciting, until you actually had to revise it.

Your eyes drifted toward the clock. Barely two hours into studying and your brain already felt fried.

You leaned forward, flipping through the pages out of boredom more than anything. Past the Mesopotamians, past the rise and fall of the Western Empire... until something unfamiliar caught your attention.

《Chapter 14: The Fall of the East Kingdom.》

You blinked. That wasn’t one of the chapters your teacher had covered yet. You were pretty sure she said they'd skip it since it wasn’t going to be in the midterms.

Still, the title tugged at your curiosity. You paused, then flipped the page and began to skim.

《Little is known about the final years of the East Kingdom. It is said that the last crowned prince died under tragic and mysterious circumstances. Historical records do not agree on who he married, or if he married at all. His disappearance marked the beginning of the kingdom’s collapse.》

You frowned. The text was vague, too vague. There were no names, no dates, just a string of conflicting accounts and rumors.

《Some documents claim the prince fell in love with a commoner, while others suggest he was cursed. No account has ever been proven. The truth behind his death remains unsolved to this day.》

Goosebumps prickled your skin. You turned the page, expecting more details, but it was blank. Frustrated, you ran your fingers over the edges of the paper, but something odd happened. A tingling sensation spread through your fingertips, like the faint hum of static electricity.

Your fingers lingered over the page titled “The Fall of the East Kingdom.” The paper felt different, coarser than the others, like aged parchment tucked into a modern textbook. You ran your thumb along the edge. It was warm.

Warmer than it should’ve been.

You blinked. The warmth deepened, then pulsed. Once. Then again. You froze.

Was it just an imagination? A trick of exhaustion? But as your palm flattened against the page, the warmth traveled up your arm like liquid fire, gentle but persistent. The hairs on your neck stood on end.

“Little is known about the prince’s final days,” you whispered aloud, reading the line again. “His death remains one of the kingdom’s most enduring mysteries.”

The text shimmered. Just for a second. Like heat rising from asphalt on a summer day.

You pulled your hand back, startled, but the pulsing didn’t stop.

Suddenly, the air in your room thickened. Heavy. Dense. The buzzing in your ears grew louder, no longer a quiet hum but a deep vibration. Your lamp flickered. The textbook pages fluttered wildly, though there was no wind. And then-

A sound, faint but clear, echoed inside your head. A whisper. Not in English. Not in any language you knew. It beckoned. The center of the page glowed faintly gold. Before you could move, the ground beneath you lurched. As if the room had tilted, gravity twisting sideways.

You gasped, reaching out to steady yourself, but your hand passed through the textbook like mist. A rush of wind roared in your ears. Your vision blurred, the colors of your surroundings bleeding together. The walls twisted and warped into streaks of light. A tunnel—dark, spinning, endless—opened around you. You were falling, but not down. You were being pulled.

Memories flashed behind your eyes. Your room. Your study desk. The clock. Gone. Just wind. Darkness. That whisper, louder now, echoing like a forgotten chant.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

Silence. Your body hit the ground with a soft thud. Not your bed. Grass. You opened your eyes. Above you stretched a sky unfamiliar and impossibly clear, painted in hues of orange and gold, with clouds shaped like brushstrokes. The scent in the air was different. earthier, untouched by pollution or time.

You sat up slowly. Around you stood towering trees, ancient and sprawling, their trunks wrapped in cloths embroidered with foreign symbols. In the distance, bells rang. Not the clang of modern metal, but the soft, resonant tones of a palace chime.

You glanced down, and your breath caught. Gone were your pajamas. In their place was a flowing hanfu—elegant in design, layered in soft silk with embroidered patterns trailing along the sleeves. Pale lavender faded into ivory at the hem, and the fabric shimmered faintly under the sunlight. You touched the collar, the texture foreign beneath your fingertips. It was nothing like anything you owned. Nothing like anything you had ever worn.

A hanfu. An ancient one.

Your heartbeat quickened. No way... This has to be a dream. Right?

But the wind brushing your cheek felt too real. The grass beneath your palms too rough. The birds in the distance, their calls hauntingly different from the ones back home.

Your gaze dropped once more to the intricate patterns sewn into your sleeves.

Does this mean… I’ve actually gone back in time? The thought hit you like a wave. To when the East Kingdom still existed? You couldn’t believe it. Your head spun with the impossibility of it all.

And then a new question crept in, quiet but insistent: If you’re here… then who are you? A commoner? A servant? A noble? A princess?

You looked at the hanfu again, trying to decipher some hidden code in the embroidery, the belt, the sleeve width—anything. But you had zero knowledge about how clothing distinguished rank in the old dynasties. You could’ve been dressed as a street performer or royalty, and you wouldn’t know the difference. With a shaky breath, you decided to shrug it off, for now. What mattered was figuring out where and when exactly you were… and how to avoid drawing attention to yourself.

You pushed yourself up, brushing off blades of grass and specks of dirt that clung to your hem. The fabric rippled gently with every movement, and a small bell tied to your sash gave a soft chime.

You scanned your surroundings, hoping for a sign of civilization—a pagoda, a distant rooftop, a road, anything. But there was nothing. Just an endless field of tall grass swaying with the breeze, the horizon framed by ancient trees that seemed to guard the land like silent sentinels.

Nothing but a field? Where exactly did I land? You turned in a slow circle, shielding your eyes from the sun. No temples. No farms. Not even smoke rising from a chimney.

Just wind. Just silence.

You bit your lip and sighed. “Guess I don’t really have a choice.”

With hesitant steps, you started walking.

There was no path to follow. No trail to guide you. Each step rustled the grass around your ankles, the soft silk of your hanfu brushing against your legs like whispering fabric. The bell on your sash jingled faintly with every movement, but otherwise, it was just you, and the quiet.

The farther you walked, the more surreal it all felt. Time didn’t seem to pass normally here. You couldn’t tell if minutes had gone by or hours. The sun hung high, unmoving, like a painting overhead.

And still, the grass stretched on endlessly.

Maybe I landed too far from the capital? Or maybe the East Kingdom wasn’t as bustling as the books described…

You didn’t dare speak aloud again. The last thing you needed was to alert someone, or something, that you were lost, and very clearly not from this time.

Eventually, you paused on a gentle slope and let your body rest. The wind brushed your hair back as you gazed across the sea of green.

Am I the only one here?

Just then-

You froze at the sound, hoofbeats. Fast. Rhythmic. Drawing closer.

Your eyes widened. A horse. Instinct took over before thought could. You dropped to the ground, heart racing, and pressed yourself flat against the earth. The tall grass bent over you, cool against your skin, hiding your figure just enough.

You didn’t dare breathe too loudly.

Through the parted blades, you caught a glimpse of movement, a rider cutting through the field, the powerful beast beneath him galloping with controlled strength. The rider wore deep crimson robes, his long black hair tied back neatly with a ribbon that fluttered behind him. He looked focused, alert, as though searching for something.

But it didn’t seem like he saw you. Not yet. The horse slowed to a trot. Then a walk. Then it stopped.

You clutched the grass tightly, holding yourself still.

The man looked around, sharp eyes scanning the field. His expression unreadable. And then-

He dismounted. His boots landed softly onto the grass, the weight of his presence sending a tremor up your spine. He stood still for a moment, listening. Observing. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of a sword at his waist—ornate, polished, and dangerous.

You kept perfectly still, your breath shallow.

The wind stirred again, rustling the grass around you. You wondered if the bell tied to your sash would give you away, if the light chime might betray your hiding place.

He took a step forward. Then another. Each one brought him closer. You could see the hem of his robe now, brushing just inches from the ground. Closer.

Please don’t look down…

The rider paused. You watched as his head tilted slightly, his brows furrowing, as though he sensed something. And then-

He crouched. Right beside you.

"You aren't good at hiding if you're hiding from something, or someone," his calm, cool voice said beside you.

You flinched. Before you could react, his eyes met yours through the blades of grass. Dark. Sharp. Unblinking.

"Also," he added, tilting his head slightly, "who are you?"

You scrambled up to your feet, the bell on your sash chiming faintly as you brushed grass from your sleeves, face flushed with embarrassment.

"I wasn’t… I mean- how did you find me?" you asked, trying to sound firm, but your voice wavered. You avoided his gaze, pretending to take interest in anything else—the sky, the trees, the wind.

He stood up slowly, brushing off his robes with a composed grace. "Your hanfu is thick. Not hard to spot an odd color in the middle of a green field of grass."

You looked down at yourself. Right. The soft lavender stood out like a lantern in the night.

He took a slow step toward you, eyes narrowing. "So… who are you?"

You opened your mouth. Then closed it. Who are you? The question echoed in your head louder than it should’ve. You don’t even know. Were you a commoner in this world? A noble? An outsider? You didn’t have a name here. No identity. You had no proof of who you were, or even when exactly you had arrived.

"I..." you hesitated. "I don't know."

His brows rose slightly at your answer, but he said nothing for a moment.

The wind tugged at your sleeves as the silence between you thickened.

Then he spoke, his tone unreadable. "That's not a very convincing answer."

You glanced up at him. “It’s the only honest one.”

A long pause. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a soft exhale, almost like a sigh of amusement. “Fine. You don’t know who you are. That just means you’re even more suspicious.”

You took a step back. He didn’t move to threaten you, but his presence alone was enough to make you tense. Every line in his posture screamed confidence and authority.

“And yet,” he said slowly, eyeing you, “you don’t look like someone dangerous. Just… strange.”

Strange. That was fair. You were standing in the past wearing an outfit you didn’t understand, with no memory of how to navigate this time, being questioned by someone who likely belonged to the kingdom you only read about in textbooks.

He studied you in silence for a moment longer. You could feel the weight of his gaze—careful, calculating, like he was piecing together a puzzle.

Then, without warning, he turned away.

"Come with me."

You blinked. "What?"

He didn’t look back as he began walking toward his horse, the tall grass parting around him with every step.

"I said come. Unless you’d rather stay out here until night falls and the wolves come down from the woods."

Your breath caught. Wolves?

You glanced around the field, suddenly, the emptiness no longer felt calm. It felt… exposed. Unsafe.

Still, your feet didn’t move right away.

"I don’t even know who you are," you called out.

He paused beside his horse and looked over his shoulder. His face was impassive, but there was something in his eyes. A flicker of something unreadable.

"And yet I found you lying in the grass like a lost spirit. If I meant you harm, I wouldn’t be talking."

That… was hard to argue with.

Reluctantly, you stepped forward, carefully lifting the hem of your hanfu so it wouldn’t snag on the grass. The wind brushed your face again, this time colder.

When you reached him, he offered no help mounting the horse. Instead, he placed one foot in the stirrup and climbed up in one smooth motion.

Then he looked down at you.

"Get on."

You hesitated again, staring up at him, unsure.

His brows twitched in irritation. "If you fall behind, I’m not stopping."

He extended a hand.

Your eyes met his for just a second.

Something told you he wasn’t someone used to waiting. Or repeating himself.

You placed your hand in his.

His grip was firm, steady, and before you could prepare yourself, he pulled you up behind him with a surprising ease.

You gasped, clutching the back of his robes to steady yourself.

"Hold on," he muttered. And with a gentle nudge of his heel, the horse began to move.

The wind swept past you as the field blurred into motion. You didn’t know where he was taking you, or who he truly was, but something deep in your chest told you this was where everything began.

The ride wasn’t long, but it felt like forever with your arms barely holding onto the back of his robes, trying not to fall off, or worse, say something stupid. The sun dipped lower as you passed through tall trees, stone bridges, and wide roads leading to something bigger… grander.

Then you saw it. Tall walls. Red lacquered gates. Gold lining catching the last glint of sunlight. A palace.

Your eyes widened. You thought maybe he was taking you to a nearby town, but this? The palace stood proud, its towers reaching toward the sky, with stone lions guarding its entrance and banners fluttering above. As the horse approached the front gates, armored guards straightened and bowed deeply.

"Second Prince," one of them greeted and you stiffened.

Second Prince? You turned your gaze toward him, his expression remained calm, indifferent, like being bowed to was the most natural thing in the world. Not once did he glance back at you. Your hands slipped from his robes, suddenly self-conscious. The guards parted immediately as the palace doors opened for him. He dismounted with ease and motioned for you to follow, not even sparing you a second glance.

You stepped off shakily, the hem of your hanfu dragging behind as you tried to catch up with him. The palace felt too big, the walls too high. You felt out of place. Small.

Who was he really?

He didn’t answer your unspoken questions. Instead, he walked briskly down the grand hall lined with carved pillars and lanterns. Servants and guards all bowed as he passed. No one dared speak unless spoken to. You followed him blindly, your steps echoing behind his in the vast corridor. Then, he stopped in front of a large door, knocking once with the back of his knuckles before pushing it open.

Inside was a throne room, ornate, glowing with the warmth of dusk. At the far end, a man sat on a golden throne. Regal. Composed. He looked older, a bit more severe in demeanor, but something about his face was familiar, like a mirror reflecting a colder version of the rider who brought you here. The man beside you bowed his head just slightly.

"Brother," he said casually. You blinked. Your gaze bounced from the man beside you to the one on the throne. Brother?

You were standing beside the second prince of the East Kingdom. And now you were face-to-face with the crown prince, possibly even the king. Your knees felt weak.

You stood still as the heavy doors closed behind you with a dull thud. The sound echoed, sealing you inside the grand throne room with two men of power—brothers, princes—while your mind struggled to catch up.

Second Prince… Brother to the man on the throne… The guards bowing… the palace… the name East Kingdom…

It clicked. Your breath hitched, a chill running down your spine despite the warmth of the golden hall.

This is the East Kingdom. You’re in the past. You’ve actually time-travelled. You swallowed hard. Your eyes slowly moved to the man beside you, his back straight, his jaw sharp, the silk of his robes flowing with every subtle movement. Then, it truly dawned on you.

The textbook. The chapter your teacher hadn’t covered yet. The mystery that intrigued you so much it kept you flipping through the pages. You had seen his face in an old portrait illustration, blurred, but familiar enough now.

This man… the one standing beside you with unreadable eyes and a calm voice… He was the Second Prince of the East Kingdom. The one whose death was never explained. The one history mourned, but never understood. You were standing next to a man doomed to die in a way history could never agree on.

Suddenly, you couldn't hear the voices in the room. Not the older brother addressing his sibling in a formal, yet tired tone. Not the soft sounds of fabric rustling, or footsteps echoing in the hall.

All you could hear was your own heartbeat, pounding against your chest like it wanted out. The man beside you, his fate had already been written. And yet, here he was. Alive. Breathing. Real.

He turned slightly, sensing your eyes on him. His gaze met yours for a brief second. And though he said nothing, something in his eyes told you, he noticed your sudden silence. The way your hands had curled slightly at your sides. Your shift in energy.

But he didn’t ask. Not yet. And so, you straightened your back and followed him a step closer to the throne, still pretending to understand what you were doing here, when in truth, your entire world had just changed.

The older man’s voice cut through your thoughts like a blade.

"You there."

You flinched, eyes snapping toward the throne. The Crown Prince’s sharp gaze was on you now, cold yet calculating.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. What could you even say? I fell through time? I was revising history and now I’m living it? None of it made sense even in your head. Your silence stretched. Before you could think of a lie, the man beside you spoke.

"I decided to bring her in, brother."

That made the Crown Prince arch a brow, intrigue blooming across his otherwise composed expression.

"Oh? Suddenly my younger brother is interested in a woman’s life?"

He shifted beside you, his voice quiet but firm. "No-"

"You didn’t even bring in General Lin when he nearly died at the border," the Crown Prince interrupted, tone half-mocking, half-curious. "And yet, here you are bringing in a strange woman from the grasslands?"

Your heart pounded. The room suddenly felt colder.

"You," the Crown Prince said again, this time his voice aimed directly at you. "Do you want to stay with Minghao?"

Your breath caught. Stay with him? Your eyes darted to your side, meeting his calm, unreadable stare. He was watching you, but not pressuring. Just… waiting.

Minghao. So that’s his name. But wait, the Crown Prince asked if you wanted to stay? Your mind raced. You didn’t know how to return to your time. You didn’t know where you were exactly. But you did know you had no money, no family here, no connections. Staying could buy you time. Shelter. Food. A chance to understand this world before finding a way back.

It might not be good for Minghao, you thought guiltily, but it might be the only way to survive for now. You took a deep breath.

"...Yes," you said quietly.

The Crown Prince leaned back, a smirk tugging faintly at his lips.

"Very well. She’ll stay in Minghao’s quarter, then. I hope your sudden act of kindness doesn’t come to bite you, little brother."

Minghao didn’t reply. He only dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment before turning on his heel, gesturing for you to follow him. You did. And as you stepped out of the throne room, heart pounding and mind spinning, one thought echoed in your head: You just agreed to live with the man history says will die tragically.

The hallways of the palace were wide and silent, save for the echo of your soft footsteps trailing behind Minghao’s steady pace. You clutched the sleeves of your hanfu, still unsure if this was all just a vivid dream, or worse, your new reality.

He didn’t say a word until the two of you arrived at a quieter, more secluded part of the palace. A pair of servants opened the doors ahead, revealing a spacious yet minimal room. The décor was elegant, not overly extravagant, but clearly belonged to someone of high status.

“This is where you’ll stay,” Minghao said, stepping aside so you could enter first.

You hesitated, then walked in slowly, your eyes scanning the room. The bedding was neatly arranged, the soft scent of sandalwood lingering in the air. When you turned around, he was still standing at the doorway, watching you carefully.

"You must have a lot of questions," he said.

You nodded slowly. “Too many, actually.”

Minghao finally stepped inside, letting the doors close behind him. “Then ask.”

You hesitated, then asked the first thing weighing on your chest. “Why did you bring me here?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Because you were alone, and clearly not from anywhere nearby. If the patrol had found you first, you’d likely be mistaken as a spy… or worse.”

You blinked. “So, you saved me?”

“If you want to see it that way,” he replied calmly, then added after a beat, “I don’t usually bring strangers to the palace. Let alone let them stay in my quarter.”

“Then why me?”

He was quiet for a moment, as if weighing whether or not to say more. Then he said, “There was something… different about you. The way you looked around like you didn’t belong. Like you were lost in more ways than one.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. Because he was right. You were lost—in time, in place, in purpose. You lowered your gaze. “Thank you, I guess. For not turning me in.”

A small hum left him, amused but unreadable. “Don’t thank me yet. The Crown Prince doesn’t trust easily. He might tolerate your presence now, but any wrong step and he’ll change his mind.”

You swallowed. “Understood.”

Minghao walked past you, stopping by the window as the golden light of late afternoon poured across his shoulder. “If you want to stay here… keep your head down. Don’t speak unless spoken to. And never lie to me.”

That last line caught you off guard.

You looked up. “What if I already am?”

His eyes met yours, sharp, unreadable. “Then you should get better at hiding it.”

For a moment, you both stood in silence.

Then he turned away and said softly, “Rest. You’ll need it.”

And just like that, he left, the soft click of the door shutting behind him the only sound left in the room. You sat down on the edge of the bedding, fingers tightening around the fabric of your sleeves.

Stay quiet. Blend in. Find a way back home. And most of all… don’t get attached to him. But even now, your heart had already started to whisper something you didn’t want to hear. You know how his story ends.

Then you look down at yourself, at the layers of the hanfu clinging to your skin, heavy and stiff, the fabric brushing against your ankles whenever you moved. You shift uncomfortably. There’s no way you could sleep in this. Not with the ties pressing at your waist, and the high collar itching your neck.

You glance toward the door. Would Minghao be nearby? You shuffle forward quietly, easing the door open just a crack. The hallway is empty. Silent. Lit only by a few dim lanterns flickering against the carved wood walls.

You peek out a bit more, then take a hesitant step into the corridor. The floors are smooth beneath your feet, cool even through the fabric. You look around, uncertainty gnawing at you.

“…Minghao?” you whisper.

Nothing.

“…Minghao?” you repeat, just slightly louder, even though some part of you knows how stupid it sounds. Why whisper in a place this huge? But at the same time, you had no clue what the etiquette was. Was it rude to shout in a palace? Were you even allowed to walk around alone?

You sigh at yourself.

But just as you’re about to turn back, a soft voice behind you makes your heart leap.

“Do you need anything?”

You flinch and spin around.

A young woman in simple but neat garments stands just a few feet away, her hands politely folded in front of her. Her voice was gentle, her presence unassuming, clearly one of the palace maids. She must’ve seen you wandering out of your room. You fidget on the spot, fingers clutching the front of your hanfu.

“I… need a change?” you say, unsure if you're even phrasing it correctly.

To your surprise, the maid offers a small, reassuring smile. “Of course. Please return to your quarters. I’ll prepare a bath and bring fresh garments for you.”

You blink. “Oh- thank you.”

The maid bows slightly before walking off with practiced grace. You let out a long sigh, your body finally relaxing a little. That could’ve gone worse. Turning back, you step into your room once more. The lanterns inside flicker softly, casting golden shadows across the wooden walls. You sit down on the edge of the bedding again, waiting as the faint sound of water and rustling fabric comes from beyond the partition.

A bath. A change of clothes. And a few moments to breathe. Maybe that’s all you need, for now.

Steam gently curled in the air as you stepped into the bath chamber, a room adjacent to where you slept, partitioned by wooden screens. The scent of herbs, subtle lavender, lotus, and something unfamiliar yet calming, filled the air. A large wooden tub had already been filled with warm water, and flower petals floated lazily on the surface.

You stared at it for a moment. It felt surreal. Everything felt surreal.

A maid helped you carefully remove the outer layers of your hanfu, folding them with care and placing them aside. She respectfully averted her eyes and excused herself once you were ready, giving you some privacy.

You sank into the tub slowly, the warmth wrapping around your tired limbs. The heat seeped into your skin, loosening the tension from your shoulders and spine. You let out a quiet breath, finally allowing yourself to relax after what felt like a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and awe.

Your fingers lightly traced the surface of the water. “So this is real, huh…” you whispered to yourself.

You were in the East Kingdom. In a time that existed three centuries before your own. Somehow, you’d fallen into a page of history that your teacher hadn’t even taught yet.

And Minghao, he was the prince’s younger brother. The one who brought you here. The one whose fate you knew would end in tragedy. The very reason you even paid attention to that chapter in the first place.

You leaned your head back, staring up at the carved wooden ceiling above you. You were inside history now, and you weren’t just reading about it, you were living in it. But how long would you be stuck here? Could you go back? And more importantly… did you want to? A soft knock at the partition interrupted your thoughts.

“My lady, your change of clothes is ready,” the maid said gently.

You answered with a soft “Thank you,” then slowly rose from the bath, the petals brushing past your skin as you stepped out, wrapping the cloth towel around yourself.

Soon, the maid returned with a fresh set of clothes, lighter this time. Less formal. More breathable. You slipped into them with her help, thankful that at least you didn’t have to wrestle the layers alone.

Once dressed, you sat again on the edge of your bed, hair slightly damp, the night calm. The palace felt quiet now. Silent in a way that made everything feel suspended in time.

A knock came at the door just as you were drying your damp hair with a cloth. You flinched slightly before calling out, “Come in.”

The door slid open, and Minghao stepped inside.

He wasn’t wearing his usual formal robes this time, instead, he was dressed in something far more relaxed. The fabric was still elegant, but looser, softer in tone. He looked more like a young man winding down for the night rather than a royal.

His eyes moved from your face down to your newly changed outfit, then back up again. He nodded.

“Good. At least you listened to the maids I assigned to you and changed into something more appropriate,” he said flatly.

You raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

He folded his arms. “I mean, since you don’t even know who you are, it was strange seeing you in a princess hanfu. And not just any kind, a formal one. Plus, a princess hanfu with dirt stains?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t match. Also, anyone in this palace would know you can’t walk around with your hair down. Everyone ties their hair here, doesn’t matter how high or low the rank.”

He rattled off the words so smoothly, without even stopping for breath, that it left you blinking.

“Also,” he added, leaning slightly closer, “how did you get a princess hanfu in the first place?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out at first. Then you gave a nervous, awkward laugh. “Mind if I say something that you definitely won’t believe?”

He dragged a nearby chair and set it down in front of you. Sitting across from you, he crossed one leg over the other and rested an arm on the back of the chair. “Depends.”

You dropped your gaze, fingers fidgeting with the cloth string tied around your waist.

“I came from the future,” you said quietly, glancing up at him with timid eyes, bracing yourself.

His expression didn’t change. No wide-eyed disbelief. No laughter. Nothing.

After a heavy pause, he let out a quiet sigh, stood up, and pushed the chair back to where it came from.

“I think you’re tired,” he said simply. “Go to sleep.”

Panic surged through you. You stood up quickly and reached out, grabbing the edge of his sleeve. “I’m saying the truth!”

Minghao paused just before reaching the door, your voice gripping the air like a thread begging not to snap.

“Then do you have anything that can assure me that you are from the future?”

His words were calm but clear, and they hit you harder than expected. You froze.

Proof. He wants proof. But you had none. You looked down at your now plain hanfu, your hands slowly brushing over the fabric. Before you landed here, you were wearing pajamas—loose, cotton, pocketless pajamas. You weren’t holding your phone, your watch, or even a hair tie. Nothing modern came with you. Nothing that could prove your words.

And saying things from the future? Technologies? Events? It would sound like nonsense. Or worse, like sorcery.

Your hand released the edge of his sleeve, fingers curling in defeat as you slowly sank to the floor, knees folded tightly together, arms resting on top, and your chin pressing into them.

“I am really from the future...” you mumbled, voice so low it barely stirred the air. It sounded ridiculous, even to you. Like a child caught in a dream they didn’t want to wake up from. You hated how helpless you sounded, but it was the truth.

Silence followed. Not judging. Just stillness. Until-

“By how many years?”

Your head snapped up.

Minghao was still looking at you. No mockery. No disbelief. Just... curiosity. You blinked in confusion, unsure if you heard him right. Was he actually entertaining the possibility?

You scrambled to your feet far too quickly, and the world tilted in an instant. Your balance faltered, but before you could stumble back, two steady hands caught your forearms, grounding you.

Minghao’s grip was firm, and his face was suddenly close, too close. His breath was calm, steady, while your eyes were wide open, stuck on his features.

“Three... three... three centuries...” you blurted, still staring at him, your brain momentarily blank as his gaze locked onto yours.

Neither of you moved. The distance between you hung on a thin line of tension, as if the weight of your answer might tip something into motion.

It didn’t seem like Minghao cared about how close the two of you stood. His gaze remained steady, but after a brief moment, he let go of your forearms with ease. His voice, low and composed, followed right after.

“What’s your name?”

You blinked, the question pulling you out of your daze. You straightened up, instinctively answering, “Xu Y/N.”

The effect was instant.

Minghao’s eyes widened. “Xu? Your surname’s Xu?”

You nodded, slowly. “Yes... why?”

His mouth parted slightly in visible surprise, only to close again as his brows furrowed. He looked away from you, thoughts visibly spiraling into something deeper, something unsettled.

“So, you said you came from the future?” he asked again, his voice less questioning and more seeking confirmation.

You nodded once more.

Suddenly, Minghao stiffened. His hands balled into fists beside him, and a rare flicker of emotion crossed his usually composed expression, disbelief, confusion... then something else. Flustered, he muttered under his breath, “So... if you came from the future, that means... I am your ancestor...?”

Your mind blanked.

Wait. Wait. His surname was also Xu?

You thought back to the textbook, to the tragic chapter about the East Kingdom and the prince who died too early, Minghao. That would mean...

Your eyes grew wide in horror. Minghao wasn’t your ancestor. His brother, the Crown Prince, was. You gasped aloud, covering your mouth with both hands. The realization hit you like a storm.

Minghao… the one who would meet a tragic end… was supposed to be your distant relative. A piece of your past, lost in time. And he had no idea what kind of fate was written in the pages of a book you'd read.

He noticed your expression shift and his brows knit tighter. “What? What is it?”

You didn’t know if you should tell him. Would you change history if you did? And more importantly... could you?

Before you could even respond, Minghao quickly spoke again, letting out an awkward chuckle that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“There’s no way,” he said, waving a hand lightly in the air. “I mean… you could be my brother’s bloodline too. Ha. Yeah.”

His voice trailed off near the end, unsure, almost as if trying to convince himself more than you. His eyes finally returned to yours, searching your face for confirmation, something, anything that would make this all less strange.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, unsure how to react. His attempt to brush it off didn’t change the truth that lingered between you both now.

“…But you said your name was Xu Y/N,” Minghao muttered, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful. “That doesn’t rule out either side. We both carry the Xu surname, but if you’re from the future…”

He didn’t finish his sentence. The air in the room grew heavy. You could feel your heart beating louder than it should, every thump reminding you that you were part of a timeline you weren’t meant to touch.

“…Do you know what happens to us?” he suddenly asked, voice quiet.

You looked up, startled. His eyes were on you again, sharp and knowing, but not accusing. Just… solemn.

“Minghao…” you murmured.

But before you could say anything more, he shook his head and gave you a small, resigned smile.

“Forget it. Maybe it’s better I don’t know.”

And with that, he turned to leave, but this time, his steps were slower, thoughtful. And you were left alone, wondering if changing the past… had already begun.

As the door clicked softly shut behind Minghao, you stood there in silence, staring at the space he’d just occupied. The room was quiet again, the flicker of the lantern on the table casting shadows against the wooden walls. But inside your head, everything was loud.

The memory of the textbook came flooding back.

《Some documents claim the prince fell in love with a commoner, while others suggest he was cursed. No account has ever been proven. The truth behind his death remains unsolved to this day.》

That one passage. You’d skimmed over it once, mildly intrigued, never thinking twice about it. Now, it looped in your mind like a whisper chasing itself.

“Prince falls in love with a commoner…” you echoed aloud, slowly sinking down onto the edge of the bed.

Your fingers tightened around the fabric of your robes. A commoner. That was what you appeared to be. If the account was true, and you were here, now, at the very heart of this unsolved history, what if it was you? What if the textbook hadn’t been fiction or speculation, but a fractured memory of a truth time had tried to bury?

You shook your head quickly.

“No… that can’t happen,” you whispered to yourself.

But the thought refused to leave. Minghao… he was kind, curious, and unexpectedly open-minded. He hadn’t mocked you for your ridiculous story. He’d asked questions, even tried to reason with your explanation. And earlier, when he caught you, he hadn’t let go right away.

Your heart pounded uncomfortably in your chest.

If this really is the past, and if he is the prince who dies tragically… does getting close to him bring that fate closer?

Or worse, does falling for him mean you’ll be part of the reason history repeats itself?

You buried your face in your hands.

You didn’t come here to be part of this kingdom’s story. You were supposed to find a way back. And yet… fate had already brought you to his side. And maybe, just maybe… He was the reason you were sent here in the first place.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

The morning sun filtered through the paper windows, casting soft golden light into the room. You stirred awake slowly, the scent of sandalwood still lingering faintly in the air from the incense the maid lit the night before. For a moment, you almost forgot where you were, until your eyes met the elaborate carvings on the ceiling and the silky weight of the hanfu draped over your legs.

Right… I’m still here.

A soft knock interrupted your thoughts.

"Miss," a gentle voice called from outside. "His Highness requests your presence in the garden."

Your heart skipped a beat. Minghao? So early?

You quickly got up and let the maids help you dress, this time, they tied your hair back in a simple but elegant style, and the hanfu they chose was much lighter, easier to move in. After a few minutes, you were guided through winding corridors and fragrant courtyards until you reached a secluded garden, shaded by weeping willows and bordered with lotus ponds.

Minghao stood beneath a tall cherry blossom tree, dressed in a cream-colored robe with soft blue accents, his hands behind his back as he gazed at the pond. The petals fell quietly around him like they, too, respected the peace of morning.

When he heard your footsteps, he turned slightly. “You came.”

You nodded, hesitant. “You called.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I figured you might prefer the fresh air over being stuck in that room.”

You gave a small laugh. “I was getting a little stir-crazy.”

He gestured toward a stone bench. “Walk with me?”

You followed, stepping lightly beside him as you both strolled through the quiet garden.

“I thought a lot about what you said last night,” Minghao spoke after a beat of silence. “About coming from the future.”

You swallowed, unsure where he was going with this.

“I’ve read records. Ancient texts, strange tales of stars falling and people appearing from other realms.” He looked at you. “If you are truly from the future… perhaps this isn’t the first time such a thing has happened.”

You stared at him. “You believe me?”

“I want to,” he said plainly. “But belief is different from understanding. Which is why I want to know you more.”

Your brows furrowed. “Know me?”

He looked forward again, voice calm. “If time chose you to be here… then surely it wasn’t a mistake.”

Your heart stirred strangely at his words.

But just as you were about to reply, a distant voice called out from beyond the garden walls. One of the royal guards.

“His Majesty, the Crown Prince, summons Prince Minghao to the Hall of Records.”

Minghao exhaled slowly. “Looks like our time is cut short.”

He turned to you. “Stay in the garden if you like. There’s a pavilion ahead with tea. I’ll return.”

You watched him disappear through the archway, your fingers curling slightly at your side. Why does it feel like every moment with him matters more than it should?

You made your way further into the garden, following the soft path of petals that had fallen overnight. The air was fresh with the scent of earth and spring blooms, a calm breeze brushing lightly against your sleeves. Just ahead, the pavilion Minghao mentioned came into view, an open structure of dark wood and curved roofs, nestled near a pond where koi fish lazily drifted beneath lotus leaves.

A maid was already there, quietly setting a pot of warm tea and two porcelain cups on the table. She bowed slightly as you approached.

“Please enjoy, Lady.”

Lady. The title still felt strange to you.

You sat down and watched her disappear back into the path, leaving you alone with the gentle rustling of leaves. The tea was fragrant—jasmine, perhaps—and as you poured yourself a cup, the steam curled into the morning light like wisps of thought.

You sighed.

Minghao… he really believed me, or at least, he didn’t brush me off. That’s more than I expected.

Your fingers wrapped around the warm cup as you leaned forward on the table, eyes drifting across the pond. Somewhere beneath its surface, a dragonfly skimmed the water, and the breeze carried the faint chime of wind bells hanging from the pavilion’s eaves.

What am I supposed to do now? Stay here? Try to find a way back? Or… Your thoughts trailed off as you remembered the line from your textbook again.

《Some documents claim the prince fell in love with a commoner…》

You felt a strange pang in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was fear, guilt, or something else entirely. But the words echoed too clearly.

Minghao… does that mean he…? No, that’s ridiculous. It’s only been a day.

You shook your head and reached for another sip of tea, just as the sunlight shifted and a shadow passed over the pavilion. Looking up, you saw a figure standing near the trees. It wasn’t Minghao.

It was someone else, taller, with sharp features and curious eyes. He stood there in silence, as if measuring you from afar.

“…You’re the one who came with the prince yesterday,” he said calmly, stepping closer. “The one with no name or record.”

You gripped your cup tightly.

“…Who are you?” you asked, wary.

He bowed slightly, though his eyes never left yours. “Wang Lin. Royal historian and advisor to the Crown Prince.”

He glanced at your tea. “May I join you?”

You hesitated… then gave a small nod.

As he sat across from you, he studied your face with an intensity that made you uneasy.

“There’s something strange about you,” he said after a pause. “Your manner. Your eyes. You speak like a foreigner, yet wear our tongue well. And your presence... it's like you’ve stepped out of the pages of a legend.”

You couldn’t speak. Not yet. Not without knowing his intentions. Then he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.

“Tell me, Lady. Where exactly did you come from?”

Immediately, your senses bristled. There was something off about Wang Lin. You couldn’t explain it. His words were polite, his smile composed, and yet… the air around him felt too still, too rehearsed. A prickle crept down your spine as he leaned just slightly forward again, his gaze sharp beneath his composed demeanor.

Before he could say anything else, you instinctively shifted away, subtle but firm, putting distance between the two of you. Your discomfort was quickly rising, and you opened your mouth, ready to spin a lie, something harmless to deflect his probing. But then-

Minghao’s voice cut through the air like a clean blade. It wasn’t loud, but it was present, solid and grounding. You turned toward it, a wave of relief blooming in your chest. He walked up the garden path, dressed in pale robes that shimmered slightly in the morning light, and his eyes were on you, not Lin.

Lin stood, offering a bow. “Your Highness.”

Minghao stopped beside you and tilted his head politely. “May I take her now?”

“Of course.” Lin stepped back with a low nod. “She was delightful company.”

Your eyes lingered on his back as he walked away, a deep unease still sitting heavy in your chest. Something was wrong with him. You didn’t know what, but your body knew. It warned you.

When he disappeared behind the hedges, Minghao gently called your attention back. “You okay?”

You turned to him, meeting his eyes. His brows were slightly furrowed, concern written clearly across his face.

“…Yeah,” you answered softly, managing a small nod.

But even as you said it, your thoughts whispered otherwise. You weren’t okay. And you had a feeling Wang Lin wasn’t done with you yet.

Minghao walks beside you in silence for a while, his hands tucked behind his back as the soft crunch of gravel beneath your shoes becomes the only sound between you. The palace gardens stretch wide and endless, vibrant with morning dew. The leaves rustle gently, and sunlight dances through the gaps of overgrown vines above the arched wooden walkway you're passing through.

He doesn’t rush you, he never does. But then, without turning to look at you, he speaks.

“So…” he starts, his tone light but careful, “what should I know about you? And the world you came from?”

You blink, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden yet sincere curiosity in his voice. He looks ahead, not pressing, just waiting, open to listening.

You glance at the flowers brushing the edge of the path, then let out a soft breath, your fingers grazing the ribbon of your sleeve.

“Well,” you begin, “I come from a world where people don’t ride horses unless it’s for fun. We use machines to travel, like carriages without horses. Some fly in the sky. We call them cars… trains… airplanes…”

You sneak a glance at Minghao. He doesn't look surprised or skeptical, just curious.

“And your people live in towers that touch the sky?” he asks.

You laugh quietly. “Yeah… we call them skyscrapers. They’re made of glass and steel.”

He hums in thought, his pace slowing slightly. “Your world sounds… chaotic. And advanced.”

“It is,” you admit. “Everyone’s always rushing. Everything’s noisy. Sometimes… I miss the silence.”

Minghao finally looks at you. “But you chose to stay here, for now.”

You nod slowly. “Because I don’t know how to go back. And… because your brother asked if I wanted to stay.”

He lifts a brow at that, his steps pausing briefly before continuing. “So it was my fault then,” he murmurs with a faint smile.

You smile back. “Partially. But… it doesn’t feel like a mistake.”

The air between you grows quiet again, but this time, it feels warmer, gentler. Minghao nods thoughtfully as the two of you continue walking, deeper into the maze of green. And somewhere in your heart, you wonder… if he’s willing to listen about your world, what else would he be willing to share about his?

As the both of you stroll deeper into the garden, surrounded by blooming osmanthus and peonies, Minghao breaks the silence again, his voice lighter now, almost teasing.

“So… do you know much about my world? About the Xu family?” He tilts his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Have your parents ever read you stories about us?”

You press your lips together, unsure of how to answer. Should you lie? Say you’ve heard legends, fables? Or tell him the bitter truth that you only knew about the Xu dynasty from a brief section in a textbook… and that the only part that stayed with you was his death.

Before you can respond, he continues talking, the excitement building in his tone.

“I wonder who she is,” he muses, hands clasped behind his back again. “The woman I end up marrying. I hope she’s not dull. Maybe someone spirited. Sharp-tongued, maybe. I wonder if she’ll like poetry… or detest it.”

You stop walking.

His steps continue a few paces ahead before he realizes you’re no longer beside him. He turns around, the sunlight slipping through the trees casting golden hues across his features.

His death…

You remember the passage clearly.

《Some documents claim the prince fell in love with a commoner, while others suggest he was cursed. No account has ever been proven. The truth behind his death remains unsolved to this day.》

You look at him, really look at him. That glimmer in his eyes, the way his smile carries a subtle loneliness. The way he speaks like there’s a future to wonder about.

But you know something he doesn’t. He’s going to die. If you stay, will the future change? If the past is altered… what happens to you? Are you meant to be here forever? You feel the weight of something invisible press against your chest, your breath catching.

“Are you alright?” Minghao asks softly, concern flashing in his gaze.

Your eyes widen slightly as he steps closer, wind brushing past him, lifting strands of his hair like it’s framing him in gentle motion. In that moment, he seems ethereal, like a painting made real. The glow of light on his skin, the stillness of the moment, the sincerity in his gaze…

And your heart skips a beat.

You stare at him, a hundred thoughts rushing at once. You’re sure you don’t have feelings for him… right? But… how can you be certain you won’t, the longer you stay?

He raises a brow, watching you with a puzzled but tender expression. “Do I look that strange?”

You quickly look away, cheeks warming. “No,” you murmur, voice quieter than intended. “You just… surprised me, that’s all.”

He chuckles, and your chest tightens again. What if you’re not just a visitor in his story? What if… you’re the one who rewrites the ending?

As you stood there watching Minghao, the sunlight filtering through the trees and catching in his hair, your chest tightened. It was almost cruel how someone so kind, so sincere, could be destined to die so tragically. But now you were here, in his world. The guards in his palace, the rules, the eyes always watching. If his death was written in history, then the people around him had already failed to protect him. And if no one could save him then…

Maybe you could.

Your hands clenched, the wind sweeping past your cheeks. If fate brought you here, then maybe fate wanted you to change something.

And if you were the one who might rewrite his ending… then you had to be strong enough to protect him.

You looked up at him and said with full resolve: "I want to learn sword fighting."

That made Minghao's eyes go wide. "What?"

"Sword fighting. I want to learn."

"But you're a female?"

You click your tongue and roll your eyes. "Well, Mulan got to fight in a war when she was a female pretending to be a male. So can I."

He blinks. "Wait- who's Mulan?"

"Whatever," you wave your hand. "Just teach me how to fight with a sword."

Minghao stares at you, dumbfounded. “You’re really serious about this?”

You nod with a determined look in your eyes. “As serious as someone who… has a lot to protect.”

There’s a pause. Something flickers in his eyes, curiosity, maybe even something softer, before he exhales a slow breath.

“…Fine. But don’t blame me when your arms feel like falling off after ten minutes.”

You grin, heart feeling lighter. “Deal.”

The sun was a little higher now, casting warm light over the training grounds. You stepped forward, your new outfit feeling strange yet freeing. The layered hanfu had been replaced with something tighter, more breathable, a two-piece set in muted colors, tied with bands at your wrists and ankles, meant for ease of movement. A leather belt held a wooden practice sword at your side.

You spotted Minghao standing with another man, broad-shouldered, slightly older, with a scar near his jawline that made him look seasoned and strict. They seemed to be in quiet conversation until you stepped onto the grounds.

Both men turned.

Minghao’s gaze traveled from your shoes to your tied-up hair. His expression was unreadable at first, then softened slightly.

"Does it look fine on me?" you asked, unable to hide the nervous energy in your voice.

He gave a brief smile. “You look comfortable.”

You giggled and nodded, feeling more at ease.

Minghao then turned to the man beside him. “Treat her nicely still. She is, after all, a female, not the usual men you train.”

The man scoffed playfully. “Don’t worry, Minghao. I can still differentiate between a man and a woman.”

Minghao chuckled lightly before his eyes returned to you, lingering for a second longer.

“Take a break if you can’t hold it anymore,” he said, his voice quiet but laced with concern.

Your heart thumped again. You were starting to hate that feeling.

You pushed the fluttering down and gave him a playful salute. “Yes, sir.”

He let out a breathy laugh, and with a final glance, stepped away to leave you to your training.

The man turned toward you and clapped his hands once. “Alright then, future sword master, let’s see what we’re working with.”

You took your stance, gripping the wooden sword, the weight of it unfamiliar but thrilling.

This was the first step to rewriting history.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

You raised your sword again, sweat clinging to your brow as the afternoon sun continued its climb. The wooden blade stung each time it met Lee Zhixun’s with a sharp thwack, your arms already aching from the repeated drills—stance, block, parry, repeat. He didn’t go easy on you despite Minghao’s request, but you didn’t mind.

You welcomed the burn. The soreness was proof you were trying.

“Break,” Zhixun finally called, stepping back with a satisfied nod.

You exhaled heavily, dropping to sit on a nearby bench. He tossed you a cloth, which you caught clumsily and used to wipe your face, still catching your breath. The wind had died down, and the quiet of the training grounds almost felt peaceful.

“You held out pretty well,” he said, taking a sip of water from his flask before tossing it to you. “Didn’t think you’d last this long, especially on your first day. Impressive endurance.”

You caught the flask with both hands, pausing at the compliment. A small, dry laugh escaped your lips as you looked down.

Endurance…

Your mind flashed to the countless late-night cram sessions, the weight of textbooks you carried every day, the tears you blinked back during finals week when nothing made sense but you kept pushing forward anyway. A long, quiet sigh escaped you as you thought about it. The past felt so distant—yet so recent.

Still, you smiled and gave a small shrug. “I guess I’m just… used to it.”

Zhixun tilted his head curiously, but didn’t press.

After a short pause, he asked, “So… why does a girl like you want to train with swords? Not exactly the usual hobby.”

You took a moment, filtering your words carefully. You couldn’t say it was because you knew Minghao would die. That would change everything… or make him doubt you. You also didn’t want to lie completely.

“I want to protect someone,” you said softly, your fingers playing with the strap on the practice sword by your side.

Zhixun studied you for a moment, then nodded once.

“Good reason,” he said simply. “That’s enough.”

He didn’t ask anything more. The silence that followed was a strange kind of comforting.

The sun peeked through the trees again, and you tightened your grip on the sword beside you.

As the sun began to set, casting warm golden hues across the palace gardens, you made your way back to your room, muscles pleasantly sore but your spirit oddly light. The day’s training had stirred something inside you, something fierce and determined.

Once inside your room, you slipped out of the practice outfit and prepared for a much-needed bath. The maid had already drawn the warm water, scented with jasmine and rose petals floating delicately on the surface. You eased yourself into the soothing warmth, letting the tension melt away with each breath.

Steam curled around you as you leaned back, eyes closing for a moment. The palace felt so distant from your world, yet the water’s heat grounded you, reminding you that here and now, you had a chance to change things: to protect Minghao and maybe even rewrite fate.

The quiet was a balm. No worries about time or textbooks, just the gentle sound of water lapping against the tub. You let your mind drift, imagining what tomorrow might bring.

For the first time in a long while, you felt a tentative hope bloom quietly inside you.

After the warm bath, you took your time changing into something light and comfortable, feeling refreshed and a little playful. The palace halls were quieter now with evening settling in, and without realizing it, you began to whistle a light tune, an old song from your world, its melody soft and oddly out of place in this era.

You strolled leisurely down the corridor, hands behind your back, when suddenly, you caught sight of Minghao walking from the opposite direction. He noticed you almost immediately, his expression easing into a smile as he slowed down his steps.

He stopped a short distance in front of you, tilting his head slightly. “How are you whistling?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. “You don’t know how to whistle?”

“I’ve never been taught,” he admitted, a little sheepishly. “So… will you teach me someday?”

You couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped your lips. “Sure,” you said simply, amused but not rejecting the idea.

He watched you for a moment longer, the corners of his lips lifting more. There was something about the way he looked at you now—curious, gentle, and familiar.

As he continued walking beside you, your whistles fading into silence, you found yourself smiling without even realizing it. You weren’t sure when it started, but being around Minghao was becoming... enjoyable.

As you reached your room, Minghao quietly walked beside you, hands behind his back, his pace unhurried. The palace halls were bathed in the soft glow of oil lamps, casting gentle shadows on the walls. It felt peaceful… maybe even too peaceful.

You finally reached your door, and with a soft sigh, turned the handle to let yourself in. But as you stepped one foot inside, your hand lingered on the edge of the door. You looked back.

Minghao was still there, standing just outside, smiling softly, sweetly.

“Goodnight?” you asked, voice quiet, almost hesitant.

“Goodnight,” he answered, just as softly.

But… neither of you moved.

You didn’t pull the door to close it. He didn’t step back to return to his room. You both just stood there, caught in that invisible thread tying the moment together. Eyes locked, expressions still, breathing faint.

Your heart gave another skip, too loud in your own ears.

Then, like a bell shattering the silence, the voice of the Crown Prince echoed from down the hall. “Minghao?”

Immediately, the spell broke. Minghao blinked, and you instinctively bowed slightly toward the approaching voice, seeing the Crown Prince’s silhouette from the corner of your eye.

Minghao gave you one last look, a tiny smile tugging at his lips, but this time, a little apologetic.

You returned it faintly, before slowly closing the door, the soft click sounding almost like an echo in your chest.

You leaned your back against the door the moment it clicked shut, your hand instinctively pressing over your chest. Your heart was pounding, fast, loud, and all for Minghao.

Your eyes widened as the realization hit you. Was it really because of him? You could still see his sweet smile etched in your memory, and the way his gaze lingered—calm, gentle, yet stirring something inside you that you couldn’t name.

Flustered, you covered your face with both palms, trying to contain the squeal that escaped your lips. A muffled sound slipped through your fingers as you squeaked softly.

Unable to stay still any longer, you darted over to your bed and threw yourself onto it, face-first. Your legs kicked the air, then the bed, over and over, while you giggled like a child with a secret crush.

You rolled to your side, burying half your face into the blanket, cheeks burning. “Get a grip,” you whispered to yourself, voice trembling between embarrassment and excitement. But your heart refused to calm down.

Tonight, it wasn’t just a heart flutter. It was the beginning of something. And somehow, you knew it.

The next morning, golden sunlight spilled through the cracks of the paper windows, warming your cheeks and gently waking you up. You stretched with a soft groan, your limbs still sore from yesterday’s training, but your mind… your mind was light.

You sat up, recalling last night’s moment with Minghao, and a small smile found its way to your lips again. That lingering stare, his soft “goodnight,” and the way your heart just wouldn’t stop racing, none of it had faded, even after a night's rest.

After washing up and changing into a clean hanfu suitable for the day, you made your way out, strolling through the stone path in the garden where dewdrops still clung to the leaves. You arrived at the small training courtyard earlier than expected, only to find Minghao already there, practicing slow, fluid movements with his sword. The morning light cast a soft glow on him, making him appear otherworldly.

You paused quietly, just watching him for a moment. His concentration. His control. He moved like a painting brought to life.

Noticing your presence, he turned his head slightly, his lips curling into a smile. “You’re early.”

“I could say the same to you,” you said, stepping closer.

“I couldn’t sleep well,” he replied, sheathing his sword. “Too much on my mind.”

You tilted your head. “Want to talk about it?”

He hesitated, then chuckled softly, “Maybe later. For now… I want to see how much you remember from yesterday.”

You groaned in fake annoyance. “Ugh, so early for training?”

Minghao stepped closer, offering a hand to help you into position. “You’re the one who insisted on learning sword fighting, remember?”

You took his hand with a smirk, “Fine. But you better go easy on me this time.”

As the morning sun climbed higher, the courtyard echoed with the soft clash of wood against wood, occasional laughter, and stolen glances, both of you pretending not to notice the subtle changes growing between your hearts.

Your mock fight continued with wooden swords, each strike and block echoing lightly in the morning courtyard. At first, you were focused, repeating the basic movements Minghao taught you, trying to follow his rhythm, but soon enough, you realized something kept throwing you off.

Him.

Every time his hand brushed yours to correct your grip, or when he stepped too close to guide your stance, you flinched slightly. Not out of fear, but from the strange flutter in your chest. His presence was distracting, and you were starting to notice far too many things: how warm his hands were, how nice his voice sounded when he praised your form, how his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed.

"You’re too tense," Minghao said with a soft chuckle, stepping forward again. "Relax your shoulders."

You nodded, but just as he moved closer to demonstrate again, your foot caught on a small dip in the stone path. You yelped softly and lost your balance, falling backward-

"Y/N!" Minghao reached for you instinctively.

He managed to grab your arm, but the momentum pulled him down with you. You hit the ground with a soft thud, your breath knocked out for a second, and then you felt the weight of Minghao falling on top of you.

It was like time paused.

His hands were on either side of your head, propping himself up just enough not to fully crush you. His hair framed his face, strands gently swaying, and his eyes, wide, concerned, and locked with yours, searched your expression.

You could feel your heartbeat hammering, your chest rising and falling beneath his. You weren’t sure if it was the fall or his proximity that stole your breath more.

"I–I’m sorry, are you hurt?" Minghao asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"N-No, I'm fine," you stammered, your cheeks burning.

Neither of you moved immediately.

The closeness felt fragile, like one breath too deep might shatter it.

Then Minghao blinked, finally realizing the awkwardness of the position, and quickly helped you sit up. "S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall on you like that-"

"It’s okay!" you cut in quickly, waving your hands in front of your face, still flushed. "It was my fault! I tripped!"

Silence lingered for a moment before both of you burst into awkward laughter.

And even though the practice continued after that, neither of you swung your swords quite as seriously again. The air between you had softened. Something unsaid now lingered in every glance, every brush of hands, every accidental touch.

And neither of you could deny it anymore.

The two of you eventually lowered your wooden swords, breathless from more laughter than the actual practice. Minghao gave you a teasing smile before nodding toward the edge of the courtyard.

“Let’s take a break before you trip again,” he said jokingly.

You rolled your eyes, nudging his arm with a tired grin. “I didn’t see that rock, okay?”

Settling onto a shaded bench beneath a blossoming tree, you both took long sips of water. The cool liquid helped ease the warmth in your cheeks and the tension in your shoulders. For a while, there was no need for words.

You both leaned back, eyes drifting upward to the pale blue sky above, streaked with soft, wispy clouds. The leaves rustled gently with the wind, carrying the sweet scent of flowers and fresh grass. It was one of those moments where the world seemed to hush itself into peace.

“I’ve always liked this spot,” Minghao spoke softly, his eyes still on the sky. “It’s quiet. People don’t bother coming here unless they’re looking to escape.”

You nodded in agreement, hugging the cool flask close to your chest. “It’s nice. Like nature decided to build its own little sanctuary in your palace.”

Minghao chuckled quietly at that, turning his head to glance at you. “Maybe you were meant to find it. To find me here.”

The words lingered in the air longer than either of you expected.

You turned your head too, and your eyes met his. There wasn’t a teasing glint this time, just something gentle. Thoughtful.

You quickly looked away, your voice quiet. “Or maybe I’m just here to change something.”

He didn’t ask what you meant.

Instead, you sat side by side in the calm silence, listening to the breeze, the distant chirp of birds, and the rhythm of your hearts—soft, unsure, but slowly syncing.

Fresh from your shower, your hair still damp and clothes crisp against your skin, you strolled down the hallway, lightly humming.

But then you froze.

There, standing just outside your room, was Minghao, clean and changed into new robes. He looked unusually focused as he held something in his hand. You squinted. A book?

Your eyes widened in shock. That’s not just any book. That’s your history textbook. The very one you touched before getting thrown into this time period.

You gasped loudly. Minghao looked up at the sound, startled, then smiled softly upon seeing you. You didn’t return it. Your eyes were locked on the book in his hands, and you quickly rushed forward, snatching it from him with both hands.

Your heart beat wildly. What if he saw the page of his death? What if he knew what was coming?

“I found it at your door,” he said calmly. “Strange book. Your year has… colours?”

You blinked, realizing he was pointing to the cover page. Indeed, the textbook had bright, printed colours and bold fonts. You let out an awkward laugh, trying to seem casual while panic built inside you.

“I… yeah. It’s... normal where I’m from.”

“What kind of book is this?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Your eyes drifted to the book, but you masked your alarm. “Just… something from home.”

He nodded, still intrigued. “I saw the words ‘East Kingdom’ in the table of contents.”

So he only saw the contents page. Not the death section.

Relief surged through you. Quickly, you forced a smile and moved toward your room door. “I’ll look through this first. I’ll come find you when it’s time to eat, okay?”

He nodded, his gaze lingering curiously as he turned and walked off. As soon as your door shut, your legs moved on their own. You sat on your bed and flipped through the textbook, fingers stiff but urgent. You flipped through the history of the East Kingdom until-

You scanned through the paragraph with shaking hands.

“The Youngest Prince’s Mysterious Death.”

There were no details about how it happened. No witnesses. No leads. Just one line burned into your mind:

“His body was later recovered at the base of the Lotus Cliff.”

Your breath hitched. That’s it? That’s all history could give you? He just… died? You gripped the edge of the textbook, mind racing. If his body was found at the base of a cliff, that could only mean one thing.

He fell. Or worse—he was pushed.

Your thoughts instantly jumped to the one person who always unsettled you every time he entered a room: Wang Lin, the Royal Historian and advisor to the Crown Prince. There was something about his calculating stare, the way his voice curled with false civility. He always looked at Minghao like he was disposable, like he didn’t belong. He had to be the one. The moment you arrived in this world, something in your gut twisted whenever Wang Lin was around. You didn’t have proof, only instinct. But now, your instincts felt louder than ever.

You shut the book quickly, your fingers trembling against the cover.

If he really planned to harm Minghao… you had no idea why. But honestly, it didn’t matter.

You weren’t going to let it happen. Not this time. You stood up with renewed resolve. Whatever it takes, you thought, I’ll stay close to him. Every time Minghao leaves the palace. Every time he walks the gardens. Every time he trains. Every moment that history could change-

You’ll be there. You’re not letting the world write his death again. Not when you’re here to rewrite it yourself.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

And so you did. You followed Minghao everywhere he went. Whether it was morning strolls, strategy meetings, or simple walks through the palace garden, you trailed not far behind. He seemed like he wanted to ask you what was going on, but you were too focused on watching his surroundings to notice the subtle changes in his expression.

Then, weeks later, Minghao came knocking on your door. You opened it, and without hesitation, he spoke.

"You changed ever since you got your book. What happened to you?" You froze. You wanted to lie, to brush it off with an excuse, but he continued. "Remember when you first stepped in here. No lying."

You stiffened. You didn’t expect him to remember that promise. But from the look in his eyes, you knew, he could tell when you were lying. He knew you too well now. If that’s the case, there was no use hiding it anymore. You pulled him into your room, gently closed the door, and guided him to sit down. Then, you placed the textbook onto his lap and sat beside him.

"This... is a history textbook from my world," you began carefully. "It contains everything: world events, major battles, and yes... even this timeline. Your kingdom. Your year."

You flipped to the relevant chapter, one that detailed the history of the East Kingdom. All its glory. Its legacy. And at the end… the record of a death.

"It includes what happens months, even years from now... including your death."

Minghao’s fingers hovered over the page. "I died…?" he asked, voice low and hesitant.

You looked down, unable to meet his eyes, and slowly nodded.

"And there’s no reason… no explanation for how or why I died?"

You hesitated. "Maybe someone from your time… didn’t want the truth to survive. Maybe they covered it up, so future generations wouldn’t know when or how you died."

Minghao leaned back, his brows furrowed in disbelief. "That’s impossible. I’m the Crown Prince’s younger brother. If I died, the entire kingdom would know. The commoners would mourn it."

You nodded slightly, voice quiet. "Exactly. Which is why it’s even more terrifying… that the records are so vague."

Minghao slowly turned his gaze back to the textbook resting on his lap. His fingers trailed along the printed lines, eyes scanning the words that documented a future he had not yet lived, one he may never want to. You sat beside him in silence, watching the weight of each sentence settle into his thoughts.

The passage was brief, but heavy with implication Kingdom was found deceased at the base of the Lotus Cliff. The cause of death remains unknown, and official records fail to mention details regarding the incident. Whispers of foul play were never confirmed, and the case was left unresolved.

He stared at the page, lips slightly parted, reading the lines over and over again as if searching for something more, some clue hidden between the sentences.

“…So that’s it?” he muttered. “That’s how I’m remembered? Just a footnote in history with no answers?”

You nodded slowly. “That’s all I found.”

He let out a shaky breath, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, textbook still in hand. “No names. No reasons. No justice.”

“…That’s why I couldn’t ignore it,” you said, voice soft but firm. “The moment I realized it was you, I knew I had to stay close. I thought maybe if I stayed by your side, I could stop it from happening.”

Minghao closed the book carefully, hands resting atop the cover.

“You think someone pushed me off that cliff.”

“…Yes,” you answered quietly. “I have a feeling it might be someone powerful. Someone who had the means to erase the truth from history.”

He fell silent for a long moment. Then he looked up at you.

“…Wang Lin,” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

“I’ve had the same feeling about him,” Minghao admitted. “There’s something about the Royal Advisor… the way he always lingers around decisions that don’t concern him. The way he watches people, as if calculating.”

You felt a chill crawl up your spine. “Then… it’s not just me.”

“No,” he said. “It’s not just you.”

He stood up slowly and handed the textbook back to you. “I don’t know why you were sent here… or how you even have this book. But if this really is my fate-” he met your eyes firmly, “-I’m going to fight it. And I want you to stay with me. Not just to protect me…”

He paused.

“…but because I want you here.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

“I’ll stay,” you said, gripping the textbook close to your chest. “No matter what.”

The days that followed were filled with quiet tension, like the world held its breath around you.

You woke up early every morning, arriving at the training grounds before anyone else, your blade sharper and movements swifter with every practice. Lee Zhixun began to notice your improvement, often nodding in approval or tossing a rare compliment your way.

“You're learning fast,” he said one afternoon, tossing you a towel as you finished a round of endurance drills. “Driven by purpose, I assume?”

You didn’t answer. You just smiled politely, knowing the answer was more complicated than you could explain.

After practice, you’d often find Minghao waiting nearby, his arms crossed and that familiar gentle expression on his face. The two of you would wander the palace gardens, or sneak out to the nearby lotus ponds, laughing softly when koi fish splashed near your shoes.

“You’re different now,” Minghao said one day, as the two of you sat on the palace wall, legs dangling over the side. “But it suits you.”

You glanced at him. “Different good, or different bad?”

He gave you a teasing side-eye. “Different protective. And kind of bossy.”

You playfully shoved his shoulder. “You try watching someone walk toward a cliff and not get bossy.”

He laughed, freely and openly, the kind that made you forget, even just for a second, that his life was in danger. That you were the only one who could see the thread of fate tying him to something so final.

Sometimes, you caught Wang Lin watching the two of you from afar. His eyes held no warmth, just calculation. But you refused to flinch under his gaze. Not anymore.

You spent each day sharpening your sword and sharpening your mind, absorbing details and picking up the rhythm of palace life. But you also gave time to moments with Minghao: playing chess in the library, stargazing from the outer courtyard, walking in silence as the wind carried spring petals through the air.

You didn’t know how much time you had left with him. But you were going to make sure every second counted, both to protect him… and to cherish him. Because the truth was, it wasn’t just about fate anymore. You were falling for him.

It was after another sword practice that left the both of you breathless and flushed beneath the orange hue of the setting sun. The others had already left the training grounds, leaving just you and Minghao, seated beneath a tree with water flasks in hand.

The air was quiet, still. Minghao looked at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.

“You’ve been protecting me,” he began, voice low, “more than I ever expected someone would.”

You glanced at him, startled. He continued before you could respond.

“I may not know everything… but I can feel it. The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching. The way you flinch whenever Wang Lin appears. The way you train so hard, every day.”

You lowered your gaze, heart thudding.

“I don’t know what’s coming,” he said, turning to face you more directly. “But I want you to know, before anything happens, I like you.”

Your breath caught.

“I have for a while now,” Minghao said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And I want to know your answer too. But only once I’ve survived… once I’ve changed what was meant to happen.”

You blinked, stunned, as warmth spread across your chest.

“You’re not confessing to me now?” you asked, a bit breathlessly.

“I am,” he chuckled. “But I’m not asking for your heart yet. Not until I earn my future.”

You smiled—soft, bright, full of quiet hope. “Then I’ll wait.”

And you did.

Days passed like a blur, but every idle moment, you found yourself imagining what it’d be like, walking hand in hand with him down a quiet path outside the palace, sharing pastries from a market stall, laughing as he tried to learn how to whistle again. You imagined Minghao in your world, wondering if he’d enjoy cafés or complain about traffic. You imagined dates in both realms, hearts shared across timelines.

You waited. But you also fought. For him. For a future that might let those dreams become real.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

The sun had just started to rise when you stirred from your sleep, an odd weight settling in your chest. Something didn’t feel right. You sat up quickly, brushing away the remnants of your dream and slipping on your outer robe. The first thing you did was search for Minghao.

You checked the training grounds. Empty. The garden. Quiet. The halls. Still. Panic began to bubble up in your throat. You turned to a maid passing by, grabbing her gently by the arm.

“Where is Minghao?” you asked, voice slightly trembling.

The maid blinked, a little surprised by your urgency. “His Highness left earlier at dawn. He was instructed to carry out errands on the other side of the kingdom.”

Your heart sank. He went alone? A sharp chill ran through you, your mind racing to the textbook hidden beneath your bed, the blank answers, the unknown reason for his death. This could be it. Without wasting another second, you stormed into the royal quarters, breath short as you bowed before the Crown Prince.

“I need to go to him,” you said desperately. “Please. Just give me a horse. I’ll ride there myself.”

The Crown Prince stared at you, clearly taken aback by your urgency. “You- he’s only running errands. There’s no need for such- ”

“Please,” you begged. “I won’t ask for anything else. Just this.”

A heavy silence fell before the Crown Prince finally nodded. “Take one of the guards’ horses. But be careful. And don’t let anyone know you’re going.”

You bowed deeply. “Thank you.”

And then you ran.

You weren’t a professional rider, but adrenaline drowned out the fear of falling. You mounted the horse and gripped the reins tightly, urging it forward into a fast gallop. The cool wind whipped against your face as you charged through the dirt roads, your heart beating louder than the horse’s hooves.

The directions the Crown Prince gave were clear, Minghao had gone toward the river village beyond the lotus cliff. That’s where you were headed now, praying to any power that listened that you weren’t already too late.

You arrived near the lotus cliff, heart racing, only to freeze at the sight in front of you, Minghao and Wang Lin locked in a fight. The sight sent a sharp wave of dread through your chest.

Your instincts screamed. You immediately dismounted the horse, leaving your textbook behind. Your hand reached out desperately toward him.

“Xu Minghao!” you screamed with all the strength in your lungs.

Without thinking, you sprinted with every ounce of energy you had, the track and field skills you once trained for back in school coming back in full force. You ran straight toward them, and with a strong shove, you pushed Wang Lin aside, stepping protectively in front of Minghao.

Wang Lin stumbled but quickly turned to you, his face twisted in fury. He drew his sword, rage blazing in his eyes, and charged at you.

You didn’t bring your own sword, but Minghao’s was close. Without hesitation, you grabbed it from his side and drew it out just in time to block Wang Lin’s first deadly strike.

“Minghao, run!” you shouted, holding off Wang Lin with everything you had.

Minghao hesitated, his eyes torn between staying and going, but he obeyed your command and ran toward your horse. Yet… he didn’t mount it. Instead, he noticed your textbook on the ground and picked it up, clutching it tightly to his chest.

Your focus was on defending, but Wang Lin was an experienced fighter. Your strength and stamina were draining fast, and each clash of the blade felt heavier. Your body screamed in protest. This wasn’t training anymore, this was real, and it was dangerous.

Minghao’s eyes widened in horror as he watched you falter under Wang Lin’s forceful blow. One powerful strike sent you reeling back, and you staggered directly into the blade you were holding, the sharp edge grazing deep.

“Xu Y/N!” Minghao cried out.

Your grip released. Your body, heavy and wounded, tumbled backward toward the cliff’s edge.

At that exact moment, Minghao threw the textbook toward you, his final, desperate action, and then seized your sword to block Wang Lin’s next attack.

“Please, Y/N!” he shouted through gritted teeth, fending off the strike. “Go back to your world! Go back where you came from!”

The wind roared around you as you fell.

“You’ll see it—my name!” he yelled. “In your textbook! I’ll live! I’ll die of old age, not here! Not like this!”

Then everything blurred, sky, air, wind, pages flying, as you vanished over the edge, Minghao’s voice echoing behind you.

You clutched the textbook tightly against your chest as you plummeted through the air, the wind howling past your ears and your heart thundering with fear. You couldn’t see anything, just the vast sky above and the sharp, jagged earth somewhere far below.

You hugged the textbook tighter, tears slipping from your eyes as you shut them. “Goodbye forever, Minghao…” you whispered, your voice trembling, breaking apart mid-sentence.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

You braced for the impact. For pain. For darkness. But instead… you landed on something soft. Your brows furrowed. You felt plush fabric beneath your body, completely whole. No pain. No sharp sting of broken bones or blood. Just… warmth.

Your lashes fluttered open. A ceiling. Not the grey skies of the East Kingdom. Not the haunting clouds over the cliff. Your bedroom ceiling.

You blinked rapidly, breath caught in your throat. You slowly sat up, hands still tightly wrapped around the textbook, now closed, its cover faintly glowing before dimming into stillness.

You were in your pajamas. The familiar scent of your sheets. The soft light from your bedside lamp. The faint hum of city life beyond your window.

Home. Back in your world. Back… without him. Your grip tightened on the book as your chest heaved. Tears welled in your eyes, not from fear now, but the piercing ache of separation.

He threw the book to you. He made sure you’d return. He saved you. But he stayed behind. And now… you didn’t know if he survived. If he’d live the life he promised. If the next edition of this textbook would still hold a cliff and a mystery.

Your gaze dropped to the cover. Maybe it was time to turn the page again. With trembling fingers, you flipped through the pages of the textbook, heart pounding with each turn. Finally, you reached the chapter: the history of the East Kingdom. You scanned through the dates, your eyes racing past the familiar paragraphs until your gaze locked onto new lines that hadn’t been there before. Your heart caught in your throat.

《Wang Lin, once a trusted royal historian and advisor, died after attempting to assassinate Prince Xu Minghao. The prince defended himself successfully. The motive remains unclear, though some records suggest deep political resentment.《

You swallowed hard and read on, your breath hitching.

《After the incident, Prince Xu Minghao confessed the truth of his lineage to the court and stepped away from any political contention. In quiet dignity, he served his people in other ways, offering counsel from afar and maintaining peace.》

Your eyes welled up as the next paragraph came into view.

《He spoke often of a girl he once met. He never named her, nor explained her origins — only that she had changed his life. He remained unmarried, and passed away many years later of natural causes, surrounded by the people who respected him deeply.》

Your vision blurred. He kept his promise. He lived. He died of old age. But… he was alone. Your bottom lip quivered as your fingers pressed against the words, trying to touch him, as if your touch could reach through time and comfort the memory of him.

“He really did it…” you whispered brokenly. “He survived…”

And yet the tears wouldn’t stop. Because you weren’t there to see him smile again. You weren’t there when he lived through the seasons, when his hair turned silver, when he laughed freely, when he looked up at the stars and maybe thought of you.

You missed it all. You missed him. And worst of all—you never got to give him your answer.

With a sob, you pulled the textbook to your chest, hugging it as tightly as you could, as if the weight of his story could substitute for his arms. Your body shook as grief overtook you, raw and unfiltered.

“I miss you… I miss you so much…” you cried, voice muffled against the textbook. “You said you’d wait for my answer, but I wasn’t there to give it. I never got to tell you that I-”

You broke off, words curling in your throat. The tears kept falling. And you wished—desperately, hopelessly—that the book in your arms was him. That he was here, warm and alive, looking at you with those gentle eyes. That time wasn’t so cruel.

But all you had were words. History. And a love that transcended time but couldn’t defy it.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

Months passed like a quiet breeze. Seasons changed, but your heart carried the weight of a memory only you seemed to remember.

You had pushed forward, barely. The pain dulled but never vanished. You studied hard, poured yourself into books, exams, late-night coffees, and eventually, you got your results.

You made it. University.

Your first day arrived, and as you stood before the gates of the campus you'd worked so hard to reach, you took a deep breath. The morning sun felt warm against your skin, the sky was clear, and your future finally felt within reach. You adjusted your bag and stepped forward, the buildings tall and modern, so different from the castle halls and lantern-lit nights of the East Kingdom. Yet a part of you still lingered there. Then-

tap. A gentle tap on your shoulder. You turned around casually, but your breath hitched in your throat.

There he was. Xu Minghao.

Or someone who looked exactly like him. No- it was him. Wearing modern clothes, a lanyard around his neck, hair a little tousled, eyes just as soft.

“Erm, hey,” he said with a sheepish smile, “do you know where the Design Building is?”

Your heart throbbed.

He didn’t remember you. Not this version of him. Not the days by the courtyard, not the sword you held to protect him, not the love he confessed. You stood there for a moment, stunned, all those memories rushing in like a tidal wave, and yet, you smiled. A little bitter, a little warm. Because maybe this time, you could start again. Slowly. With no threats, no falling off cliffs, no time between you.

“I’m heading there too,” you said gently. “I’ll guide you.”

He grinned. “Thanks. I’m terrible with directions.”

You both started walking side by side. A new setting. A new time. And maybe-

Just maybe-

A new chance. And that’s when a new story starts.

Tagging: @stvrrylove @sol3chu @firstclassjaylee

149 notes · View notes

emotionoitme · 8 months ago

Text

i didn’t know

i didn't know - skinshape

final part of don’t call my name

warnings: some fighting at the beginning, but it’s mostly just one big love and fuckfest, mommy issues, slight mention of disordered eating, carmy is a PERV!! unprotected sex throughout but what else did you expect, shower sex (water off for SAFETY), teasing, play fighting (like shoving), brat/brat tamer themes, f receiving oral, fingering, major voyeurism (while otp with richie because i have a crush on him), spanking (and mention of skin being red), slight dacryphilia, sexy pictures, face fucking (m receiving oral), he spits in her mouth, kind of rough handling (thank u dom carmy), but it’s sweet and sappy too, breeding kink oop, bittersweet ending, pls let me know if i missed any warnings my brain is fried from looking at this for so long.

wc: 21k - but tumblr has a 1k "block limit" so this chapter is broken into two posts

a/n: sorry that took me so long i took a grippy sock vacation lol. wow i am so excited for all of you to read this. and the only way i can apologize is with 21k words of the nastiest smut i’ve ever written. LET THERE BE LIGHT!!! (part two of this chapter will be linked at the bottom! no more waiting i promise!!)

playlist

knock knock

he calls her name.

she rolls her eyes, brushing out the tangles in her hair. “i need to talk to you.” his voice comes sternly.

she cracks the door, continuing to detangle. the plan was to ignore him, yet she can’t help but seethe at the fact that she had to deal with claire again.

“go talk to your girlfriend” her retort comes sharply.

“can you not start this shit?” his face scrunches.

“i’m not starting anything,” she defends, “you’re the one who keeps inviting that girl over here.”

“she forgot her scarf,” he states, “she just came to pick it up. that’s it.”

the girl scoffs.

“i’m sure she wanted a lot more than her scarf from you, carm.”

“you-,” he rubs his forehead, sighing, “i told her that we’re together, okay?” his eyebrow twitches from the argument.

“you only told her that because she saw me in your shirt,” the girl argues stubbornly, “if i didn’t walk behind you, you wouldn’t have said anything.” she turns the shower on.

“yes i would have,” he contests, “and even if she didn’t see you, i’ve got these fuckin’ things all over my neck,” pointing to the dark purple hickeys that lay on his skin, “thanks for those, by the way. gotta go into work tomorrow like this.”

she bites her lip to hide a smirk.

he catches it and raises his eyebrows in response.

“payback.”

“what?” he stutters, shaking his head.

“those are nothing compared to what you gave me.”

he scoffs and crosses his arms. tries to push away how roused he becomes when they bicker like this.

“i didn’t hear any complaints while i was giving you them,” he counters.

she rolls her eyes.

“can you get out? i need to shower.”

“m’not done talking to you,” his eyes lock on her face.

she puts her hand on her hip and scoffs, staring at him for a moment, studying his features. cursing how her body tingled from the argument. deliberating.

“fine,” she concedes, threading her fingers under the hem of the borrowed shirt, lifting it up over her head to reveal her nudity. if he won’t leave, she’ll just shower anyways.

carmen fights a groan at the sight, instead forcefully exhaling through his nose.

she was right, the marks on his neck were nothing compared to the bruises littering her skin, trailing from her neck all the way down to her chest, ranging from red to purple to brown.

the girl turns to open the glass door of the shower, stepping in, watching as the man shamelessly admires her figure. she goes about her business as if he’s not there, submerging her head under the stream of water, carding her fingers through her hair to scrub her scalp.

he’s not done talking to her, yet he can’t seem to remember what he even wanted to say, transfixed by her nude, wet body just feet away. she begins to hum a tune and lather up her hair with shampoo.

carmen approaches the glass.

“hey,” he tries with a knock, eyebrow twitching. something else twitching, too.

she glances at him, suds dripping down the side of her face, sliding down her breasts. she smirks knowingly at the sight of his flustered face, pushing her chest out slightly before drenching her face underneath the water again.

he knocks on the glass door again, jaw tightly clenched. she rubs the water out of her eye and turns to him, cracking the door of the shower open.

“hm?” she questions, gazing up at him.

“we gonna finish talking?” he asks. he looks angry, but she knows better. the way his chest puffs out. the way his jaw clenches in that certain way. he looks hungry, and she’s tempted to keep pushing.

“i can’t. i’m in the shower,” she bites down on her lip to refrain from smirking.

“why-” a sigh, running his fingers through his hair, “why you being such a brat today, huh?” he strains, giving great effort to keep his gaze from trailing down.

“because i want you to myself,” she bites, “i’m tired of sharing with claire.”

“will you knock that shit off? y’not sharing me with anyone.”

“uh, i beg to differ,” her eyebrows scrunch, “you’ve been fucking around with her since i moved in.”

“fucking around?” he scoffs, “she was getting her scarf.”

“there was the other time, too, carm,” she reminds him.

“that’s because-” he lets out a sigh of exasperation, hand carding through his hair. “listen. she’s the last person i wanna be with. we just…weren't good together.”

“why not?” she presses

“there just wasn’t…i dunno, sparks? it was like dating a friend.”

“okay.” she’s still mad, but she likes the words that come from his mouth. because if she has one thing with carmen, it’s definitely sparks.

“yeah?” he tries, leaning to see her face, “you know i’m yours, right?”

“yeah. whatever.” she doesn’t want to concede, too fired up about claire coming back over. “you should’ve told me.”

“i knew it’d make you mad,” he defends.

“not as mad as it makes me thinking that you invited her,” she scoffs, “fucking hate seeing that girl bat her eyelashes at you.” she lathers shampoo between her hands and begins to wash her hair.

“yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, “feeling jealous?”

“shut up.” she can sense the stupid smirk on his face.

carmy’s concentration breaks, and his gaze flits down to her sudsy chest. fuck. he clears his throat before speaking.

“didn’t know girls like you could get jealous.”

“girls like m-what? what is that supposed to mean?” she cracks an eye open.

“means you’re too fuckin’ pretty to worry about that shit. so just lose the attitude.”

his answer catches her off guard. the pulsing between her legs catches her off guard too. so she just turns away from him, scrubbing her scalp with her soapy fingers and shutting her eyes tightly.

he chides her name and pushes the glass door open further.

she ignores him, soaking her hair under the stream of water, muffling his voice. her eyebrow twitches.

carmy steps partially in and turns off the water, getting his shirt wet in the process. the girl’s eyes shoot open and she whips around to face him.

“what the fuck, carmy?!”

“i need you to fuckin’ hear me.” his comes louder than he anticipated. “i don’t. want. claire.”

she doesn’t even care anymore. his lips look so inviting, she thinks. his white shirt clings to his chest in the spot that got wet.

she just looks at him for a moment. studies his frenetic expression. looks at his lips again.

“are you gonna keep fucking fighting with me or are you gonna take that wet shirt off?”

it takes him a half second of firm deliberation before he’s yanking his shirt over his head and pushing his sweatpants off. she grins as he roughly grabs her face and slams his lips against hers.

he kisses her with a hungry frenzy, like he has something to prove.

and they apologize to each other with their bodies yet again, as carmen lifts her against the cold tile and fucks her, coaxing and kissing and thrusting an orgasm out of her.

he fucks her until it feels like all the hurting is gone. until she gets lovey and desperate for him. until he gets so worked up he groans promises about finding her in california and giving her a ring.

by the time they finish, the water is cold and the girl begins to shiver. so the two quickly finish washing up and carmy wraps her in a towel.

he retrieves one of his sweatshirts for her to wear, smoothing his hands over her arms to help warm her up.

without many words exchanged, they decide to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie together. she lays her head on his lap and he cards his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. exchanging tenderness to help mend the argument. forgetting feelings of jealousy and shortcoming and guilt.

they cozy up in carmen’s bed that night, taking a moment before falling asleep to just lay staring at each other. joking softly, touching each other sweetly.

he asks her about california, and watches with fascination as she lights up telling him about the beach she grew up next to. tells him about how when things would get bad at home she would sneak out her window and spend hours swimming in the salty water. letting the waves lap at her skin. letting the sun kiss her better. how it seems so dangerous looking back at it, but as kid nothing ever seemed that dangerous. it felt like nothing could hurt you.

carmy enthusiastically agrees with her. follows her memory with his own anecdote of when donna took him, mikey, and nat to lake michigan and little carmy got separated from everyone. how he would have otherwise panicked and ran around and made the situation worse, but it was such a beautiful evening. so he decided to just sit on a rock and watch the waves roll in.

a big smile grows on the girl's face as he recounts the moment when his mom found him. how she threw her arms around him and cried. how he was too young to understand why she was so scared when it was such a lovely evening.

she wraps her arms around his shoulders and their chests press flush together. she kisses his neck, and they stay quiet for a moment.

“i wish i didn’t have to go back,” she whispers her admission.

“me too.” he keeps playing with her hair.

it’s quiet for a moment. there’s a heaviness that fills the room.

“how long you gonna have to end up staying?” carmy asks softly, leaning away from her to study her eyes. her face. trying to memorize every detail. he doesn’t miss the way her expression falters at his question.

the girl doesn’t answer, and her eyes become glossy.

“shit,” he breathes. her eyes dart to his. “you’re not coming back, are you?”

“my whole family is there,” she whispers, “my friends. there’s nothing for me here.”

“really?” he scoffs, “nothing at all?”

“don’t start, carm.”

“y’know i fuckin’ love you,” he harshly whispers. she flinches slightly at the word. it feels so much heavier without the haze of lust.

“all we ever do is fuck and fight.”

“that’s not true,” he argues.

“it is.”

the man lets out a sigh of frustration, studying her eyes. her face. her lips.

“it just…it feels right with you,” his tone softens.

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, and fantasizes about leaving everything behind and building something in chicago, no matter how much she had grown to hate the weather. she fantasizes about the man in front of her. how she wants to build a life with him. how makes her feel like no other man ever has.

it’s hard to verbalize as her mind racks back and forth, so instead she just leans forward and kisses him softly, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck.

carmy reciprocates hesitantly, mind racing with the things he wants to tell her. how he doesn’t care about the distance. how he’ll call her every night. how he’ll keep her room vacant incase she wants to come back. he softly groans into the kiss when she slips her tongue into his mouth, feeling her press her chest flush against his. it feels so good, but he knows it’s wrong to keep pushing the hard conversations away with more sex.

the girl finds his hand and softly guides it under the hem of her shirt. carmen lets her, fingertips finding the softness of her skin. but when she tries to pull his hand up to her breast, he stops the attempt, fingers firmly pressing against her ribs.

the girl whines against his lips, moving closer.

carmy indulges in the taste of her for only a moment more before pulling back and saying her name. she ignores him, chasing his lips, hand moving to grasp his strong bicep.

“hey,” he turns his head and her kisses land messily along his jaw, “c’mon.”

she ignores him, knowing he’ll want to keep talking about california, pressing herself closer, wanting to indulge in the feeling of him without thinking about the end.

he calls her name again, voice coming out strained. she can feel his erection pressing against her, and keeps peppering kisses along his jaw and face.

“just make me feel good,” she begs against his skin, “please.”

carmen feels himself throb against her, wanting nothing more than to give in. knowing it won’t fix anything. knowing it’ll only complicate things more.

“thought you said all we do is fuck and fight?” his fingers grip into her, jaw tightening, feeling his resolve begin to crumble beneath her lips.

“mhm,” she breathes into his skin, “so fuck me again,” trailing her hand down his bare abdomen.

he grips her wrist before she can move any further down. her eyes come up to meet his, taking in the stern look on his face.

“i know you wanna,” she breathes, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips, “can feel you throbbing against me.”

carmen harshly exhales, trying to keep his mind focused. she’s completely right, he thinks, he’s stiff as wood. but he has to stay strong, prove to himself he has control around her.

“stop fucking around. i wanna talk to you.” his voice comes more sharply than he means.

the girl stiffens at his tone, pulling away to sit up and retreat. he doesn’t release her wrist.

“let me go,” she tells him.

“no. we’re gonna fuckin’ finish this,” his eyebrows furrow, “i didn’t even know you weren’t coming back until now.”

“i don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” her throat feels tight.

“no? just want me to make you feel better? that all this is to you?” he can’t help the harshness of his tone.

“carm, i-”

“y’know i’ve never fuckin’ felt this way about anyone? never said ‘i love you’ to anyone but you?” his nose scrunches, eyes appearing glossy.

“we’ve only known each other for a few weeks.” her tone comes hushed as her chest painfully tightens.

“yeah, well, i know you enough to know that this is real. that i don’t even-” a sigh, “ i don’t want anybody else but you.”

“everything you’re saying is just gonna make it harder when i leave.” her voice breaks.

his furrowed brows soften at the sound, releasing her wrist. she says seated on the bed, trying to take deep breaths and stave off the hot tears that threaten to form.

“fuck, i-” he pauses, harshly rubs his hand over his face, taking a moment before meeting her eyes again and saying her name. “i like you. a lot.”

“i know. i like you too, carm.” she rubs the tears away harshly.

“so why can’t we just…enjoy it? while you’re still here? go all out on this?”

she stares at him blankly for a second as a cue to elaborate.

the man exhales and shakes his head, trying to piece together what to say. he can’t seem to find the words. she thankfully cuts in.

“go all out on this?” she asks.

he nods.

“like, you wanna be my fuckin’…. boyfriend?”

carmen can’t help the small smile that flashes across his face at the title. he tries to turn his head to hide it but she catches it, playfully shoving his arm. his smile turns to a chuckle.

“shut up,” she grins, wiping the last stray tear away, “you so wanna be my boyfriend.”

he bring his arms to rest behind his head, staring up at the girl with a lazy smile. he studies her smile. her pretty face. they way in which she’s leaned in closer.

“fuck yeah, i do. you kidding me?”

her eyebrows raise at how assertively he says it. her head falls back, and she begins to laugh. partially out of joy and partially out of disbelief. the sound is hearty and sweet, and carmy finds himself wishing he’d make her laugh more.

the girl leans over him, smile still gracing her face, and she plants a tender kiss against his lips.

carmen gazes dreamily at her as she sits back up and tucks her hair behind her ears. her face is flushed, and she’s wearing an expression he can’t quite read. they keep staring at each other silently.

“this is gonna be a bad idea, huh?” she asks after a moment.

“why?”

“why wouldn’t it be?” her eyes take in his handsome face. she thinks about how hard it’s gonna be to leave.

“well…i like you,” he clears his throat, “a lot. actually i’m kind of fuckin’ crazy about you.”

her gaze softens at this. he continues.

“and i’m very attracted to you. and we, uh… we have great sex…”

“yeah, we do,” she concedes, “these are all good points.”

“so then, you’re my girlfriend.”

“carmy…” she sighs, pausing. thinking of what to say. “i don’t like it here. i’ve felt homesick for the past year. i’m really not coming back.” her voice is quiet.

“yeah.” he nods, clearing his throat, “i know you’re not.” he knows, but it’s still hard to be reminded of.

“so, you’re gonna be okay with that?”

“i mean…i’m not okay with it, but i’ll deal with it if it means we get to spend these next few weeks together.”

she thinks for a moment, studying his genuine expression.

“okay…but if we do this, we have to promise each other that we’re not gonna get too attached. i really don’t want this to be messy. i like you too much.”

“it won’t be,” he assures, although it feels more like a prayer than a fact.

“okay,” she whispers, “then you’re my boyfriend i guess.”

his eyes light up a bit at this, and a boyish grin breaks his face.

“nice.”

“you’re stupid.” she laughs at his response, lightly shoving his chest again.

he reaches up and shoves her shoulder back playfully.

“you are.”

she scoffs and goes to shove him again, harder this time. he catches her wrist and pulls her forward so she can’t. the girl lets out a yelp of surprise, splaying out over him, face inches from his.

the simple display of dominance makes her feel dizzy, placing her free hand on his firm chest to center herself.

“why you like fighting so much, hm?” he asks, his breath ghosting over her lips, “you’re always testing.”

she tries to pull her wrist away, but his grip is firm.

“cause you’re…sexy when you’re mad,” she admits, eyes drooping to his lips.

“i’m sexy when i’m mad?” he has a slight mocking tone.

“mhm.” she can’t keep her eyes off his lips. “if i worked at your restaurant, i’d probably mess shit up on purpose just so you’d yell at me.”

“jesus,” he lets out a laugh, rubbing his free hand over his face, “what, you like when i get a little rough you?”

“n-no,” she blurts out. the way she averts her eyes immediately reveals her lie.

“yeah, i think you do,” he grins.

she goes to defend herself again, but shuts her mouth when she can’t think of anything to say. it is kind of true, anyways.

“shut up,” she pushes his face away from her gently, “or else i’ll break up with you.”

this makes him fully laugh. it’s a really nice sound. she watches the way his face crinkles with the big smile. when his laugh fades, he reaches for her chin and pulls her into a gentle kiss. she sighs into the feeling, settling her body closer to his.

“m’tired,” she mutters into his lips, “you exhaust me.”

carmy rolls his eyes at this. “c’mere.” he says, pulling the sheets back for her.

the girl slips in next to him and presses her back against his chest, resting her head on his bicep.

carmy reaches behind him to turn off the lamp, then wraps his arm securely around her. he plants a kiss on her neck and nuzzles his nose into her hair.

boyfriend.

he could get used to the title.

carmen gets home late from work on a cold night, late into november, crashing down onto the couch and basking in the silence of the apartment.

it was a long day in the kitchen, followed by meeting with a contracting crew to update some structural components after hours.

he had finally taken off after being there for almost 12 hours straight, begrudgingly leaving the renovations to be overseen by richie after having snapped at the crew for the third time.

he hears soft footsteps padding down the hall, and opens his eyes to see his girlfriend. his sweet, perfect, sexy fucking girlfriend. and it’s like a breath of fresh air, especially after not having seen her the past few days. and she’s wearing a tiny pair of shorts with a crop top that barely covers the curve of her breasts.

it’s like a reward, he thinks to himself, for all the bullshit he put up with today at the restaurant.

“welcome home,” she greets, walking past the couch and into the kitchen.

“hey,” he returns, eyes following her, gaze raking down her backside as she gets herself a glass of water.

“how was work?” she’s oblivious to the way he’s hungrily looking at her, oblivious to how pent up he feels.

“long,” he responds, eyes trailing up the length of her legs.

she lets out a hum of acknowledgement, turning to face him and taking a long sip of water. she catches him watching her intently, his arm stretched out over the back of the couch and neck craned.

“enjoying the view?” comes her tease.

“y’look good,” he defends.

“yeah?”

“mhm.”

the girl sets her glass down and begins to saunter to the couch. carmen’s eyes follow her closely.

“how good?” she stops in front of him.

“good enough to eat.” a small smile twitches the edge of his lip.

“yeah? wanna taste?” her hands come to her hips, and she pushes her chest out slightly.

fuck. he shamelessly looks her up and down. this was getting to be dangerous territory.

“do you wanna go to out to dinner this week?” he changes course, watching her brain stutter for a second.

“wh-dinner?”

he nods, resting his head against his hand. she pauses for a moment, studying his face.

“where?”

“wherever you want.”

“like…a date?”

“mhm,” a smirk tugs at the edge of his lips, “cause you’re, uh…my girlfriend now.”

a grin breaks her face. she thinks for a moment.

“can we go to your restaurant?”

“uh…yeah, i guess we can.”

“you guess?” she asks.

“yeah, we can go. but you’re probably gonna get a lot of, uh…attention.” he admits hesitantly.

“from who? your staff?”

he nods. they would probably lose their shit seeing him bring in a girl to eat dinner with. not to mention a girl that looks like her.

“okay,” she nods, “i’ll dress cute. you can help me pick.”

“yeah?” he likes the sound of that.

“mhm. whatever you want.”

carmen rubs his hand over his face then locks his eyes on her again. this girl is going to be the death of him.

“c’mere,” he beckons.

the girl gently steps forward, standing in between his spread legs. his hand comes to the back of her thigh as he sits forward, gazing up at her with those big blue eyes. he looks so handsome, and she can’t help but place her hands on his face and lean in to kiss him.

it’s gentle and sweet, and it only makes him want more, tightening his grip on her leg as she pulls away.

“you taste minty,” she says softly, still leaning over him, stroking her thumb across his face.

“you sure?” he’s fixated on her lips, “might wanna check again.” he definitely is minty from the nicorette gum he’d been chewing. but it’s worth a shot.

this makes her smile. and she does check again. decides it’s spearmint she tastes.

before she can pull back, carmy pulls her forward to straddle him. she makes a sound of surprise, but leans into it, wrapping her arms around his neck and continuing to kiss him.

“missed you today,” he slips in between kisses.

“liar,” she smiles against his lips.

his hands come to her hips, pulling her against him.

“nah, it’s true,” another kiss, “couldn’t stop fuckin’ thinking about you.”

“prove it.” she grinds against his bulge, making him tighten his grip.

“lay down,” he growls, pulling away. there’s a dark gleam in his eyes.

“or else what?” she challenges

he grabs both sides of her thighs and stands up with her still straddling his waist, turning and dropping her back onto the couch.

okay, he’s not in the mood for arguing anymore. good to know.

carmen cages her with his arms and kisses her deeply before trailing his lips down her jaw, neck, collarbones, only being stopped by the neckline of her shirt. he glances up at her, and she eagerly takes it off. he smiles at the silent act of obedience and continues kissing down her body, barely giving any attention to her breasts before his lips come to her stomach. the girl huffs at this, and he pretends to not notice.

“what are you doing?” she strains, watching as his lips come to rest just above the waistband of her shorts.

“m’getting my taste,” he replies casually

“carmy,” she chides, face becoming red and hot.

“what?” his fingers hook her waistband, “you embarrassed or something?” another kiss on her hipbone.

she is, inexplicably. and vulnerable and exposed and horny all at the same time. she hides her face in her arms instead of responding, feeling him slide the shorts down her legs, left clad only in a thin pair of panties.

carmy hooks his arms around her legs and pulls her closer to his mouth, pressing slow, firm kisses to her covered mound.

the girl lets out a labored breath at the heat of his lips against her clit as he begins to place wet, open mouthed kisses on her covered pussy. her cotton underwear becomes damp with his tongue, and she arches into the feeling with a sharp breath in.

carmy nuzzles the fabric and deeply inhales, letting out a low groan.

“ah- don’t do that!” the girl tries to clamp her legs shut out of embarrassment, but he holds them firmly in place and presses his face closer to her core, continuing to kiss and suck her through the fabric.

“you smell good,” carmy defends. “and these are cute,” he snaps the band of her panties.

she can hardly even process the statement before he starts sliding them down her thighs, bunching up the fabric and putting it in his pocket.

“hey, you can’t have those,” she strains.

there’s a delay in carmen’s response—too busy studying her soft pussy up close, lips gleaming with wetness, bundle of nerves twitching under his gaze.

“i’ll, uh…make it up to you,” his eyes stay fixed on the glorious sight upon him.

he leans in, flattens his tongue against her clit, and begins to gently lick.

the girl gasps, and her hands fly down to grab his hair as she releases a whine of pleasure.

the tantalizing licks to her clit are gentle. almost not enough. she tugs on his hair and tries to scoot forward, so he eases his tongue back.

when his eyes flicker to her face. her skin is flushed, lip clamped between her teeth, and she’s looking at him hungrily.

“y’so pretty,” he presses a kiss to her clit, “taste so fuckin’ good.”

her head falls back and she breathes out sharply. it’s too much to keep making eye contact with him. the slow, teasing licks are the only thing she can concentrate on.

“you gonna say thank you?” it’s more of a demand than a question, as he glides his finger over her entrance, collecting her syrupy wetness.

“n-no,” she struggles, face hot and red.

thank you, really? how embarrassing.

his tongue flicks over her clit repeatedly, his finger dips inside of her opening ever so slightly.

“no?” his lips close around her clit and he sucks, cherishing the sound of the first moan she allows to slip out.

“mmm,” she whines in response, beginning to pant at the feeling of his mouth.

“c’mon, be a good girl for me?” unlikely, but he asks anyways

“i am,” she argues, pulling his head towards her needy heat. he scoffs at this and continues to swirl his tongue around her clit.

“then say thank you.”

“carm, i’m not saying-ah thank you!” she cuts herself off with a moan as he sinks his finger inside of her. “y’welcome” he replies lowly, a smirk fighting to break his face.

“shut up. i didn’t-mmh! …mean it like that.”

she sits up onto her forearms, watching him curl his digit upwards inside of her, trying to keep it together.

“you’re so fuckin’ cute.” he growls, then dives forward to taste her again. his fingers curl rhythmically, tongue lightly swirling her sensitive clit, giving her barely enough stimulation to get by.

“more,” she whines, bucking her hips up slightly. he gives her a disapproving glance, so she adds a “please”.

“yeah?” he kisses her clit.

she frantically nods her head, trying to scoot closer to the man, trying to buck her hips against his hand.

carmen speeds up the pace of his fingers, sucking her clit into his mouth, free hand gripping onto her thigh.

“yeah,” she moans, “fuck, you’re so good at that.”

he preens at the praise and swirls her clit with his tongue, beginning to lap at her pussy. when he adds a second finger she cries out his name.

the view above him in combination with how sweet she sounds leaves his cock pulsing beneath his denim. he reaches down with his free hand, undoing his belt buckle and unzipping his pants. he just needs a little something to keep him from fucking her into the couch.

as he goes to wrap his fingers around his cock, he’s interrupted by the harsh buzz of his phone on the table.

the girl startles at this, and both of their eyes dart to the contact tag.

fucking richie.

he doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers, and leans back in to taste her again, ignoring the loud vibrations. he begins to softly stroke himself, groaning into her pussy.

“do you need to-ah… to get that?

“no,” he replies sharply, “y’taste too fuckin’ good to stop.”

the girl whimpers at the sound of his voice. at how low and raspy and hungry it sounds.

“let me taste,” her plead comes breathily.

carmen nearly groans at her request, more than willing to happily oblige. he licks a long stripe up her pussy, collecting her slick on his tongue, then leans over for a kiss. the girl eagerly (and messily) accepts his lips, swirling her tongue around his own, tasting her juices. she tasted herself before off his fingers, but it’s so much better off his tongue. she moans appreciatively and holds the sides of his face, pulling him in for deeper, sloppier, wetter kisses. the vibration of the phone stops, and his fingers continue their pace, curling into her heat, beginning to produce a squelching sound from the slick of her arousal.

“yes!” she cries into his lips, eyes nearly rolling back into her head.

“so perfect, y’know that?” he punctuates his words with the thrust of his fingers, gently biting at the girl’s bottom lip.

she’s only able to muster a moan in response, trailing her hand down her stomach to circle her neglected clit, babbling out a string of “yes yes yes yes.”

the phone vibrates harshly atop the edge of the table again, falling to the floor with a loud thud.

“fuck!” carmen exclaims, ripping his hand out of his pants. he stops curling his fingers inside of her and leans down to angrily grab his phone. the girl lets out a cry of protest.

“carmy m’so close, please,” she begs pathetically. grabbing at his arm.

“be quiet,” he hushes her, scooting back down to his previous position between her legs, “can y’do that for me?”

she nods eagerly, biting down on her lip.

carmen answers the call with a harsh “what?” and rolls his eyes at the voice that blares through the other line.

his fingers remain engulfed in her heat, and he begins to slowly curl them again. the girl lets out a sharp breath and he shoots her a warning look, mouthing a stern “quiet.”

he puts the call on speakerphone, then places it on her stomach, leaning down to softly lick her clit. the girls eyes widen in surprise. a loud voice begins to come through the phone.

“-that he was going to do it anyways, but i said ‘no way, carmy would have a fuckin’ bitch fit if we didn’t ask!’ so don’t answer the phone all fuckin’ mad, it’s not my fault,” the voice at the other line loudly rambles. carmy lifts his mouth from her pussy to respond

“jesus, richie, just look at the fucking floor plan.”

“you don’t think we tried that? the vents aren’t lining up with the floor pla- what is that sound?”

carmy curls his fingers a bit faster, pressing his tongue flat against her clit instead of answering. the girl gasps, convinced her lip is going to start bleeding from how hard she’s biting down on it.

his eyes flicker up to her, and she mouths a “what the fuck?”

like an asshole, he just grins in response.

“hello?? earth to asshole,” richie’s voice cuts in loudly, “what the fuck are you doing over there?”

carmen pulls away from her pussy with wet lips. he looks pretty, she thinks, like he has lipgloss on or something.

“m’eating dessert,” he responds truthfully. the girl’s faces grows incredibly hot.

“you wh- dessert? what is it, is it good?”

“fuck, richie, you-” he sighs, “forget about the vents,” he begins to rub gentle circles around her clit, “just have them do the pipes and go home. and stop fucking calling me.”

“you think i wanted to call you, you fuckin’ baby? it’s gonna be an extra $200 for them to come back tomorrow and…” he continues to ramble on. meanwhile the girl holds onto carmy’s shoulder, digging her nails in, trying to anchor herself. the feeling of his fingers plunging into her is incredible, and there’s an unexpected rush at the risk of being listened to. of being caught.

carmen laps at her pussy, then closes his lips around her clit and sucks gently. he keeps doing this rhythmically, curling his fingers up into her core, continually switching between gentle licks and slurping and sucking. it’s a particularly deep thrust of his fingers that make her release her lip from her teeth and cry out loudly.

“ah-!”

carmy’s eyes dart upwards at the moan, watching as she claps a hand over her mouth in shock.

“what the fuck was that?” richie’s voice sounds after a pause.

carmen, without a care that they could be caught, continues eating the girl out, giving her a look that says “you are so getting it.”

“hello?? are you watching porn or something, you fuckin’ weirdo?”

he rolls his eyes at the accustation, why would he be watching porn while on the phone?

“no, i’m not watching fucking porn, richie. finish the vents tomorrow, i’m not arguing about this anymore. goodnight.” he grows increasingly impatient, and it reflects in the quickened pace of his fingers.

“wait, wait, one more thing-”

“fuck, what?!” carmen snaps.

the girl lets out a sound of exasperation, coming up on a perpetual orgasm then being denied every time he removes his mouth. the pressure is growing to be unbearable, and she softly whines a “carmyy.”

“i know, baby, i got you,” he whispers back, barely loud enough for her to hear. he brings his mouth to suck on her clit again while richie continues yapping about the fucking vents. fuck the vents.

carmy just watches the girl’s face, tuning out the voice from the phone. he studies how flushed she is—from her cheeks all the way down to her chest. how she seems like she’s barely holding on. how her legs begin to tremble. how she tries desperately to keep from making noise, pressing her lips together firmly, eyes screwed shut, breathing ragged.

the wet, squelching sound from her pussy begins to sound again, juices flooding down his fingers, soaking his hand. it feels unbelievable and she begins to lose patience.

“carm, hang up,” she cries, much louder than she means to. richie’s voice stops in its tracks.

“are you f-what the hell are you doing?” he asks, “who is that?”

“none of your fuckin’ buisness,” carmy snaps, “the central vent is the one that’s the most fucked up, so get it sealed and go the fuck home. and don’t fucking call me again.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. you have fun over there, assh-” carmy hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the floor.

“what the fuck, carm?” she asks exasperatedly, face fully flushed.

“you’re not very good at staying quiet.”

“you were- ah!” she loses her sentence as he dips back down to swirl her clit with his tongue.

“i was what?” he mutters into her wetness, slipping his free hand back into his pants.

“you were doing that!” she cries, tangling her fingers in his curls.

“it feel good?” he laps at her cunt, rhythmically curling his fingers.

“yeah,” she cries, “please don’t stop again. please.”

a small smirk breaks on his face at how nicely she’s able to ask, even after being tormented with interruptions moments ago. he rewards her by continuing his steady pace, keeping everything constant, coaxing an orgasm out of her.

he squeezes the head of his cock, stroking the length of it faster now. she tastes so good, and the sounds she’s making are so pretty, it’s easy to lose himself in the pleasure.

she bucks her hips against his face, getting his nose wet. her grip on his hair tightens. her body feels hotter, hotter, hotter and-

“carm-!” she gasps, “fuck, baby, that’s so good. m’gonna cum. please keep doing that pleasepleasepleasebabyyesyesyes,” she babbles, grinding her hips against his face, practically riding his fingers which curl so deliciously inside of her. the man has to force himself to not stop and make a snarky comment about how cute she sounds when she’s all fucked out like this .

with a final few curls of his fingers and another swirl of his tongue, she’s coming completely undone. her head falls back and she rides out the orgasm shakily.

he bucks his hips into his hand with fervor, groaning into her pussy as he feels himself approaching an embarrassingly easy climax.

she clenches around his fingers, and he wriggles them as deeply as he can, swirling her clit with his tongue.

the girl lets out a cry, feeling herself be pushed far past her peak, hand flying down to grab his wrist.

“ah-carm, s’too much.”

“you can take it, yeah?” he growls, rutting into his hand. he’s so close. just needs to taste her for a little longer. there’s a hot pulse surging throughout his body.

the girl’s breathing becomes loud, a rapid inhale exhale inhale exhale.

at the labored sound, he takes some mercy on her and stops moving his fingers, focusing solely on lapping at her throbbing clit. his cock twitches in his hand, and with a few final frenzied pumps, he cums into his palm.

“fuck,” he groans, resting his head on her pelvis for a moment. the two of them bask in the post-orgasm high, catching their breaths. carmen’s jaw aches a bit. he plants one last kiss on her oversensitive clit, then pulls away, easing his fingers out slowly.

“kiss me,” she pleads breathily, feeling slightly dizzy from the orgasm.

“yeah? wanna taste yourself again?” his voice is low, kind of raspy.

she nods eagerly.

he leans over and, to her surprise, shoves his fingers in her mouth, swirling them around her tongue, making sure she gets every drop she left behind. the girl enthusiastically cleans his fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth.

the moment he eases them out, he dives into her lips hungrily, shoving his tongue in her mouth, tasting the heavenly mix of her saliva and arousal.

she grabs his face and licks her cum from the side of his lips, from his chin, gathering it before kissing him frantically again.

“mm, thank you,” she mutters against his lips sweetly.

“y’welcome.” he loves how she thanks him.

the taste is intoxicating, and he’s tempted to lick her pussy again just so the both of them can continue to indulge. but there’s a sticky mess on his hand and the inside of his boxers, so he pulls away from her lips, and grabs a tissue from the box on the coffee table.

the girl’s eyes widen in surprise as he eases his cum-covered hand out of his boxers.

“is that- did you..?”

he wipes the white substance off his hand, small small teasing the edge of his lips.

“uh…yeah. that was, um… that was really hot,” he admits.

“yeah, except the part where you put me on the phone with your employee.”

“nah…” he shakes his head, a smirk on his face, “i think you liked that.”

“wha-no i did not,” her eyes widen, “it was so embarrassing.” it was embarrassing, but it really turned her on—not that he needs to know that.

“embarrassing?”

“yes, embarrassing! get that dumb grin off your face, it was!”

this only makes him smile harder, beginning to laugh.

“yeah? that why you soaked my fuckin’ fingers?”

she sits up and reaches for her tank top, a bashful expression on her face.

“no. that’s just because it felt good.”

“you were squeezing me like crazy trying to stay quiet,” he continues to try and provoke her, liking how feisty she becomes.

“give me my panties back.” the girl rolls her eyes and ignores his statement.

“what panties?” he asks cluelessly.

“carmy.”

“yeah, baby?”

she scoffs and mutters a “whatever” before standing up and slipping on her shorts. pantiless. there’s a creeping blush on her face as she wonders what he even wants them for.

“so, tomorrow?” he asks before she can walk away, “for our date?”

she pauses, then nods.

“but we’re not going to your restaurant.”

“why not?” there’s a small smirk on his face.

she gives him a look that says, because you just ate me out on the phone with the guy that would probably be serving us, dumbass, but stays quiet, beginning to walk to the stairs

carmen lets out a chuckle, and stands to follow her after cleaning his hand off. he hooks the waistband of her shorts and pulls her back. hands coming to her hips to steady her, his chest flush against her back.

“c’mon, don’t be like that,” he leans down to kiss her neck. she can feel his smirk against her skin, “you hungry? y’eat yet?”

she shakes her head no, closing her eyes at the sensation of his kisses.

“no you didn’t eat or no you’re not hungry?” he asks, nipping the skin below her earlobe.

“both,” she exhales, leaning back against him, her hands coming overtop his. she suddenly notices how big they are splayed out over her hips.

“you haven’t eaten dinner yet?” he stops kissing her.

“m’not hungry,” she breathes, “keep kissing me there.”

he removes his hands from her hips and steps back. she lets out a noise of disappointment and turns to face him with a pout. he doesn’t see this, though, already walking to the kitchen and turning on the light to make her something.

“carmy,” she calls, following him, “it’s late. let’s just go to bed.”

he ignores her, opening their cabinets to retrieve a box of spaghetti.

“hey,” she grabs his arm, leaning to meet his eyes, “come on. i wanna cuddle.”

“we will. but i’m gonna make you dinner first.” his voice is firm. he pulls his arm away from her and reaches down to grab a pot.

he’s so demanding. but the gesture makes her feel incredibly affectionate towards the man, so it’s hard to be mad at.

as he fills the pot with water, the girl snakes her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind, pressing herself flush against his back.

“thank you,” she mumbles into his shirt, taking a deep breath of their shared laundry detergent. her hand sneaks under his shirt and she drags her fingers into the deep cut of his v line.

carmen reaches his hand behind him, caressing her hip without saying anything in response.

she pulls away after a moment and he puts the pot of water on to boil.

“you eating enough?”

his question catches her off guard.

“i- what?”

“you heard me.” he crosses his arms.

she stares at him for a moment, studying his tightly set jaw. the way it twitches a bit.

“yeah, i am.”

“yeah?” he looks like he doesn’t believe her.

and maybe she had been a bit forgetful lately, missing breakfast, oftentimes coming home too tired to make dinner and opting for a snack instead. she didn't think he had been so observant, though.

“yes.” her tone is quiet.

he just stares at the girl silently, striking blue eyes boring a hole into her. she crumbles under his gaze.

“i’ve just been…stressed. i don’t know. haven’t had much of an appetite.”

“what are you stressed about?”

“going back home i guess,” she admits quietly, shuffling on her feet.

he doesn’t respond, giving her the opportunity to elaborate without pressure.

“i just- it’s gonna be hard. y’know when i told you my mom and i have a complicated relationship?”

he nods, and she continues.

“yeah, that was like…understatement of the year.”

he nods, a knowing look on his face.

“yeah, no. i, uh…i know exactly what you mean.” he really does.

“and um, she’s sick. like, not entirely there,” she points to her head, “so she gets really mean. but then she can also be the nicest, most motherly person. its just…really unpredictable.”

it was almost uncanny, the way in which he pictures donna as she gives her description.

“i, uh…yeah. i get it,” he clears his throat, “i’ve dealt with someone like that my whole life.” he intently locks eyes with her, wishing he could say more to alleviate her dread.

“how did-how do you deal with it?” she asks quietly, after a moment.

“i, uh…i don’t really?” he rubs his neck, letting out a sardonic chuckle, “i haven’t talked to her in…months probably.”

“really?”

“yeah, i’ve, um…been kind of an asshole, actually. my sister is really the only one that deals with her.”

“you’re not an asshole,” she locks eyes with him, “well, sometimes you are. but not cause of that. that’s more like a…i dunno, a defense response.”

he laughs at her bluntness.

“so i am an asshole, just not for that?”

“correct.”

“how am i an asshole?”

“you’ve been trying to make me jealous since i got here.”

“not trying. it actually worked very well.” he has a stupid smile on his face when he says that.

“shut up!” she laughs, shoving her hands against his chest as hard as she can. he barely moves from it, grabbing both her wrists firmly with an amused look on his face. she struggles against his grip, trying to shake the feeling of arousal that comes with how easily he’s able to overpower her.

“why’re you so fiesty, huh?” he grins, pulling her closer.

“cause you’re a fucker, that’s why.” she tries again to pull her arms back, but to no avail. her face feels hot, and she becomes hyper aware of the fabric touching her skin, the hair on her neck, the tingle of the rough grip on her wrists. his face is much closer now, and she fights the urge to lean forward and indulge.

“yeah?”

“mhm,” her response overlaps his.

“what are you gonna do about it?” he mocks, “huh?”

her eyes flicker down his face. he has a stupid fucking smirk plastered on his lips. fuck, she wants to kiss him.

an idea pops into her head.

the girl leans forward, gently ghosting her lips over his own. her tongue darts out and she licks his bottom lip, then sucks it into her mouth and bites softly. then she gives him a soft and gentle barely there kiss.

she feels his grasp on her wrist loosen, so she splays her hand over his chest.

her lips hover over his for just a moment more, and then she shoves him.

carmy stumbles back slightly, less prepared that time, hands coming behind him to steady himself on the counter. when he meets her eyes again he has a dark glint in his eyes. almost like anger, but hungrier.

the next thing she knows, he yanks her into his chest, grabs her hip and roughly bends her over the countertop.

she just thinks to herself, finally.

carmen tugs her hips back until her forearms fall to the counter and she arches her spine. until she’s flush with his pelvis and he’s pressing his achingly hard cock against her ass.

“such a bratty fuckin’ girl,” his tone is rough, strained. “you know that? fuckin’ had it with you.”

“i’m n-” she cuts herself off with a gasp as he harshly tugs the waistband of her shorts up, wedging the fabric between her cheeks and giving himself a nice view of the supple skin.

“you’re what?” he smooths his hand over her ass, watching her arch into his touch. watching as she opens her mouth to say something, then close, staying silent and shuffling her hips against his groin.

carmen lets out a groan—half frustration, half arousal, smoothing his hands over her hamstrings and firmly squeezing the soft flesh before trailing back up to her ass.

“you doing this on purpose?” both hands grab her ass, kneading, pulling her closer against his hardness.

no response. she can’t, not without moaning.

“hmm?” he shoves his hips forward into her, “you trying to get a reaction outta me tonight? or are y’really just that fucking bratty?” the hand gripping her flesh squeezes harder.

“i-mmh…that-…keep doing that.” she chooses to ignore his question.

“answer me.”

still nothing.

“you want me to spank you? cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep this shit up.”

his words make her stomach flip. of course she does. she hides her smile in her arms and stays quiet, pushing back into him. hoping he’ll stick to his words.

carmen raises his hand, and cracks it down on her right cheek, grabbing the flesh immediately after to ease some of the sting.

“ah-!” she grips the countertop, arching her spine. his hand leaves behind a hot, tingling sensation, flooding through her body like a wave.

“y’okay?” he tries to sound caring but his tone comes out rough, heavy with arousal.

“yeah.” better than okay. incredibly horny, actually. “that hurt?” his hand smooths over the reddening skin.

“no,” she shakes her head, pushing back against him again, “thought you were gonna spank me.”

she cranes her neck trying to get a look at the man. his pupils are blown, face is rosy, and when she meets his eyes there’s a dangerous glint to them.

he wedges her shorts up higher, exposing more of her ass, then smacks her in the same spot without warning. harder this time.

“fuck-!” she gasps sharply. it hurts, but in a way that has her pressing her thighs together desperately to try and get some relief.

“can you take one more, pretty girl?”

“yeah,” she whines enthusiastically, shuffling her hips back against his groin.

“yeah? y’so tough, baby.” his voice has a slight mocking edge to it as he does everything in his power to not yank the shorts down her legs and fuck her into the counter.

“just…shut up and do it.” she tries to mask her eagerness, but it doesn’t work very well.

he scoffs, and rubs his large hand over her supple skin. when he feels her relax, he raises it and cracks down on her other cheek.

she partially muffles the loud cry by biting down on her forearm, feeling a few tears begin to form in her eyes.

“you have such a cute ass, y’know that?” he squeezes both of her cheeks in tandem, pulling them apart, pushing them together, “can already see the handprints forming.” his voice is low and rough.

“wh-really?” her brain feels fuzzy with desire as she tries to switch gears.

“you wanna see?”

she nods her head frantically, butterflies arising at the thought.

carmen pulls his phone out of his back pocket and holds it over her, snapping a picture with a low groan.

“look back at me,” he demands softly.

she does, peering over her right shoulder to see him holding the camera facing her. the embarrassment makes her face feel hot, but she lets him take the picture anyway, looking into the lense with a small pout on her face.

“so fucking pretty,” he growls, lowering the phone and clicking on the picture he took, admiring it for a moment before turning the phone so she could see.

it was quite the picture—cherry red handprints over her round ass, shorts wedged up so far they look like underwear, the curves of her body accentuated by the angle.

carmy swipes to the left and reveals the photo of her looking back at the camera, all flushed cheeks and pouty lips and misty eyes. she knows she should probably feel embarrassed, but seeing herself like that just makes the throbbing between her legs intensify.

carmen turns off the phone and puts it back in his pocket. he leans over and grabs her face, studying her with furrowed brows before leaning down kissing her firmly.

“you okay?” another kiss, “really?”

she nods, eagerly reciprocating the kiss, moaning a soft “mhm” against his lips.

“didn’t hurt too bad?” his brows are furrowed, their movements beginning to quicken. she slips her tongue into his mouth and she begins to kiss him faster, losing herself in his lips.

carmy reciprocates for a moment before muttering a gentle “hey,” pulling back a bit, “answer me.” his gaze flickers over the sheen on her cheeks, left behind from a few stray tears.

her eyes flutter open, fighting the urge to not chase his lips.

“it didn’t hurt,” she affirms hazily, “felt good. can you put it in? please?”

“jesus, christ” he groans, dipping back in for another kiss, “want me to fuck you? needy fuckin’ girl.”

she nods with a small, bashful smile and softly nips at his bottom lip, fighting the urge to bite harder.

carmen straightens to his previous position behind her and slips his fingers beneath the hem of her bunched up shorts. he pulls them to the side to reveal her glistening pussy, letting out a sharp exhale at the sight. he’s about to reach out and touch her when she gasps.

“carm, the water.”

it angrily bubbles and pours down the sides of the pot, sizzling when it splashes onto the flames.

“fuck,” he pulls away from her, quickly moving to turn off the burner. “stay right there.”

and she would’ve, had another fucking phone not started ringing.

the girl cries out his name frustratedly, just wanting him to come back over and fuck her brains out.

“it’s not mine this time,” carmy defends, adjusting the tent of his pants. he’s so hard it’s almost painful, increasingly eager to get back behind her.

she huffs and straightens, readjusting the uncomfortably wedged-up shorts as she follows the sound of the ringer. when she retrieves her phone from between the couch cushions, her heart drops at the contact name.

mom.

in a single moment it’s like the air gets sucked from her lungs. her skin stops tingling with that warm heat, body stops buzzing with pleasure—all the good feelings flood from her suddenly.

carmen wipes down the stove, drying the water that had boiled over before refilling the pot and turning the heat back on. his roommate talks in a hushed, urgent tone in the living room, and he tries to refrain from curiously moving closer and eavesdropping. curiosity almost gets the better of him, but a few more moments pass and he hears delicate footsteps approaching.

he looks up, and catches the sight of her tear-streaked face. her big, sad eyes. a pit forms in his stomach.

“everything okay?” he’s unable to hide the concern in his tone.

she doesn’t say anything. she can’t. so she just rushes forward and crashes into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“hey,” he soothes, tightly reciprocating the hug, “what happened?” he kisses the side of her head.

it takes her a minute before she’s able to verbalize, just wanting to nuzzle herself as far into his chest as she can, wishing she could just disappear into him completely.

he says her name, pulling away slightly to get a look at her sweet, sad face. “what’s goin’ on, huh?”

“i’m going back next week,” it’s hard to make eye contact with him, so she looks to the side with blurry vision.

“what?” it’s like a punch in the stomach.

“i-…my mom,” she sighs exasperatedly, “she’s just getting worse,” at this point the tears stream down her cheeks.

he cups her face with both hands, wiping them away with his thumbs. he just stares at her, not knowing exactly what to say to make this shitty situation better.

“i’m-….fuck, i’m sorry.” he puts his forehead on hers, “m’so so sorry.” he doesn’t know exactly what he’s apologizing for—the state of her mother or the dread of her sudden departure. either way, there’s this overwhelming feeling of loss trying to wrap his head around how soon next week really is.

“m’gonna go to bed,” she mutters, tightly closing her eyes to stop the flow of tears, nose brushing against his.

“you don’t wanna eat with me?”

she gives a small shake of her head, having lost her appetite at the news.

carmy wants to push it. but she just looks so tired and sad, he figures it’s better not to. his hand comes to the back of her neck, and he pulls her into a bear hug, kissing the side of her head.

“go wait in my bed for me,” another kiss, “i’ll be up in a bit.”

“i need a shower,” she mutters into his neck, “you made me all…sticky.”

he can’t help but let out a humorous exhale, finding a small bit of relief from her words.

“yeah? sorry about that.” he has a soft, barely there smile on his face.

“you know i love you, carmy?”

her quiet confession stops his train of thought. stops the noise of it all. it kind of feels like it even stops his heart, just for a second.

it was something she hadn’t yet said to him without the hazy high of lust. something she had been waiting on until it felt real.

carmen eases away from the tight hug, getting a good look at her face. she’s entirely genuine, brows furrowed and eyes glossy, searching his expression for reassurance. he dips forward and kisses her softly, hand caressing her cheek.

“i know,” his thumb traces along her jaw, “i love you too.”

she turns her head to the side and kisses his hand.

“you gonna come to california with me?” she softly bites his thumb.

“yeah, baby.” he nods. it’s a lie, and they both know that.

sometimes it’s easier to fantasize about what could be than accept what never will.

it’s far too late into the night by the time carmen has eaten and showered. he blearily trudges down the hall and pushes his door open. and like a breath of fresh air, there she was. cuddled up in his blankets, face buried in his pillow. it feels incredibly domestic, and he finds himself wishing he could come home to this every night of his life.

carmen eases into bed slowly as to not wake her, shuffling his body against hers. then he just watches her for a bit.

he watches her chest rise and fall. watches the way her lips slightly part with her heavy breaths. she looks so peaceful unconscious, like there isn’t a worry in the world.

he thinks about how selfishly he wants to keep that placating expression on her face. wants to keep her to himself. thinks about how selfishly he wishes she didn’t even have a family to return to—how fucked up is that? it’s almost surreal, staring at her sleeping form, mourning her loss while she’s still in front of him. tangible and soft and beautiful and sleeping right there.

carmen reaches out and strokes her cheek at the thought, then leans in to press a gentle kiss to her resting lips. it doesn’t make him feel better like he thought it would.

he turns off the light and pulls her in close.

pt 2 of i didn't know

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear imagine

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ceyanabbiolo · 14 days ago

Text

PHOTOGRAPH // M.S [13]

Summary: Daphne Denoire, a 21-year-old, returns to Boston after 3 years—but working for her brother’s best friend, Matthew Sturniolo, wasn’t part of the plan. He’s a 26-year-old multimillionaire. She’s the girl he was never supposed to feel this way about. With secrets between them and boundaries set, how far will they go for a love they never saw coming?

Warnings: mentions of SA, angst & fluff

wc: 4057

Chapter 13: Pipe Down Loverboy

The morning light crept in through the curtains, soft and slow. I didn’t sleep much—my body had rested, sure, but my mind…It had been racing all night.

Daphne was still tucked into my side, her breathing soft, steady. She looked peaceful now—something I hadn’t seen in days. Her face was turned toward my chest, her hand still loosely clutching the fabric of my hoodie like she’d fallen asleep.

I didn’t move. I just lay there, one arm around her waist, the other brushing slow circles over her back.

Last night changed everything. The way she broke. The way she trusted me. The way I saw her—really saw her—for the first time.

It hurt.

The moment my eyes landed on the word scrawled across that small sticky note, everything clicked. The confusion, the hesitation, the way she pulled back—suddenly, it all made sense. But my body went still.

I believed her instantly. There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind.

But believing it… and processing it? That was different.

My brain struggled to accept that something so horrific had happened to someone like her. Sweet, soft-spoken Daphne. The girl who probably had ant funerals, who carried herself like she was trying not to take up space.

I felt sick.

She had gone through something so cruel, so violating… and I hadn’t known.

I’d been there that night. Just downstairs, laughing and drinking like the world was perfect in pure graduation bliss.

I closed my eyes for a second, jaw tight. I’d been so goddamn clueless.

I remembered that night clearly—Noah, my brothers, and I setting up the house for the graduation party, laughing, moving furniture, setting out drinks. It felt like a celebration. It was supposed to be.

I remembered Daphne, too. She came downstairs briefly, soft-spoken as always, asking if the party would be over before midnight. She had school the next morning, and she didn’t want it to be too loud. She had said it in that way she always did—like she didn’t want to be a bother. She was just a kid back then.

Then she went back up to her room.

And I didn’t think twice.

I remembered seeing Carter White that night, too. We weren’t close, but we were familiar. He’d been around a few times—through a friend of a friend, mostly. I didn’t hate him. Never had a reason to.

But now? Now I could barely even let my mind say his name without wanting to break something.

It all made sense now. Why he had disappeared, Noah must’ve buried it, handled it quietly. I just thought Carter had just moved or gotten into trouble somewhere else, but it wasn’t random.

My mind drifted back to that night at the market—the night we were walking under string lights and the air smelled like fried food. I remember how I casually asked her why they moved out of the house, even though it was fully paid off.

The way she hesitated before answering.

“A lot happened in that house.”

“Good things, bad things.”

“Eventually, that house started to feel suffocating. I couldn’t be in my room for long without going insane.”

I hadn’t pushed her for more. I didn’t realize there was more. But now, knowing what I know, those words hit completely differently. Her room. That room. The place she was supposed to feel safest.

I let out a slow breath, gently combing my fingers through her hair as I stared up at the ceiling. Beside me, Daphne shifted slightly, her breath soft and steady against my skin. She looked so peaceful, so untouched by the chaos of the world.

How could anyone ever try to hurt her? Someone so gentle, so quietly kind—it didn’t make sense.

Every single unanswered question I’d ever had—clicked into place. They were questions I didn’t think much about either.

Why Noah had suddenly become so occupied during his first year of law school, constantly busy, always unavailable. I used to think it was just the intensity of his program, or maybe some side internship. But now I understand. He wasn’t just "busy." He was in court—fighting for her rights.

If it had been anyone else, I might’ve asked questions. Wondered why someone our age was spending so much time in a courtroom. But Noah being a law student made it easy to overlook. It was believable. Convenient.

And Daphne, she had all but disappeared that year. I barely saw her during her senior year of high school. Before that, there were always glimpses of her. Then she was just… gone. Like a ghost in her own home.

She hadn’t just vanished for no reason.

Now, I understood why Boston made her uncomfortable. Why she wanted distance. Why she chose the farthest school she could—London. It wasn’t just for education. It was an escape. She needed to breathe again. Needed space from the shadows that still lived in the walls of her childhood home.

And she never told anyone—until now.

I looked down at her sleeping beside me.

My chest ached.

I sat quietly, my back pressed against the headboard, I hadn’t moved an inch—too afraid of waking her, too afraid she’d pull away again.

But then I felt it. A faint shift in her body.

Daphne stirred slowly, her fingers curling slightly against my chest before her eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep. She blinked a few times, taking in her surroundings, the unfamiliar quiet between us. Then she tilted her head slightly upward.

“What time is it?” her voice came out raspy, barely louder than a whisper.

I reached over to my phone on the nightstand and checked. “almost 11.”

She blinked again. “Oh…”

Daphne slowly pulled away from me, her fingers sliding off mine as she sat up more fully.

“I’m just gonna use the bathroom,” she mumbled, her voice still soft from sleep.

I nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

She stood, the oversized t-shirt she slept in hanging loosely around her thighs as she padded barefoot out of the room. The door clicked shut a moment later.

I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. My body was stiff—probably from staying in the same position all night—but it didn’t matter. I stood, stretching my arms above my head before quietly walking out into the hallway.

I made my way to Noah’s old bathroom—he always kept a spare toothbrush for when we stayed over. I ran it under the sink. My reflection stared back at me—tired eyes, the same hoodie and sweats from last night.

I hadn’t even changed. Hadn’t slept properly. But none of that mattered.

“Matt,” Daphne gasped, eyes wide as she looked at the spread laid out across the counter. “You got all this?”

I grinned, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah… figured breakfast was the least I could do. I apologize for not knowing how to cook though—didn’t want to serve you something questionable just because I tried to be impressive.”

She let out a soft giggle, the kind that made something in my chest settle, and slid into one of the chairs at the island.

I turned back to the fridge, pulled out the drink I’d hidden, and walked it over to her.

“Here,” I said, placing the cup in front of her.

She gasped again, fingers wrapped around it slowly. “You remembered?”

I shrugged casually, but I couldn’t hide the smile tugging at my mouth. “I pay attention.”

She looked down at the matcha, then back up at me. Her expression softened—almost shy. “Thank you. Seriously.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I teased, sitting beside her. “We still have to see if I picked the right toast.”

“If it’s strawberry jam, we’re all good”

“Then you can go ahead and thank me,” I replied, flashing her a quick grin.

We ate quietly after that, but I couldn’t help the way my eyes kept drifting toward her every few seconds. She looked calmer this morning, more at ease—hair still a little messy from sleep, sipping matcha like it was about to run away if she didn’t.

“What, Matthew?” she said dramatically, catching me mid-chew with a knowing look.

I didn’t say a word. I just swallowed, leaned in a little, and lifted a hand to gently cup her cheek. My thumb brushed softly against her skin—just for a moment. Then I let go.

Her expression faltered, just slightly. Like she wasn’t expecting that kind of tenderness.

“You have the prettiest smile,” I said, voice low but honest.

She blushed almost instantly, glancing down at her plate like it could save her from the warmth rushing to her cheeks.

“I’m being serious,” I added, watching her. “Your whole face just… lights up. Like it was made to smile.”

She looked back up at me, softer now, her smile returning without effort.

“I want you to always be smiling, Daphne. Not sad, or hurting.”

I referenced her claim of being really sad yesterday.

She looked away for a beat, eyes landing on the counter. “I know,” she murmured.

I hesitated for a second, then gently leaned my arms onto the table. “Have you ever thought about talking to someone?”

Her eyes flicked up, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Therapy,” I said carefully, not wanting to startle her. “I think it could help. Just to talk, get everything off your chest.”

She frowned slightly, shaking her head. “I don’t need that. I’m not that sad, Matt.”

“It’s not about being that sad,” I said, tone still calm. “It’s about healing. About having someone trained to help you make sense of things. Even if you’re doing okay… it could help you feel better than okay.”

She stayed quiet.

“I’m not saying you have to jump into it,” I continued. “But… we offer insurance through the company for that kind of stuff. You could go, talk to someone, try a session. No pressure, no cost.”

That was a lie. There was no coverage. But if I told her I’d pay for it, she’d refuse in a heartbeat. This way, she’d feel like she was doing it on her own terms.

She studied me for a long moment. “You really think I need it?”

“I went to therapy for years. For anxiety.” I continued. “It really helped. I can arrange for you to be with the same lady that helped me. She really great”

Her expression softened again—this time with something heavier than affection. Something like understanding.

She didn’t say yes. But she didn’t say no again either.

“How long did everything with the court last?” I asked, my voice low as we sat curled up on the couch. The TV was playing something forgettable in the background, but neither of us were really paying attention.

“All of senior year,” Daphne replied, staring ahead. “We had to wait months just for the trial to be scheduled, but once it finally happened… things moved fast.”

I nodded slowly. “That must’ve been a lot to carry.”

She let out a small sigh, sinking deeper into the cushions. “It was. I barely got through that year. My grades dropped. I was constantly sad or numb—like I couldn’t feel anything at all. I didn’t really have any friends back then either.”

She paused, then added with a faint smile, “And Noah’s cute best friend went off to college, so life was pretty terrible.”

I glanced at her, a smirk playing on my lips. “You missed me when I left”

She shrugged, the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “Yeah. You were the highlight of the occasional weekend.”

I shook my head with a soft scoff, still not entirely sure how she’d ever liked me back then. It was sweet—mind-boggling, but sweet.

“Wait, Matt,” Daphne said suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

I hummed, glancing at her. “Yeah?”

“Are we… dating again?”

A chuckle rumbled from my chest. “I’d say so, yeah. Technically, we broke up after a two-hour relationship. Feels like we’re due for a proper run.”

She squinted at me, teasingly. “So… you’re my boyfriend?”

I grinned. “Correct.”

“And I’m your girlfriend?”

I brought her hand up, brushing a kiss over her knuckles. “Yes, sweetheart. You are.”

She let out a dramatic puff of air and flopped back into the couch with a grin. “Thank goodness.”

I raised a brow. “That dramatic, huh?”

She let out a soft, almost bitter laugh. “Yeah… kind of. I really thought I ruined the one good thing I had going. The one person I actually feel like I can talk to… about anything.”

I gently brushed my thumb over the back of her hand. “You have Noah too,” I reminded her, even though the second I said it, something about her expression told me I was wrong.

She slouched deeper into the couch, her voice quieter now. “Not really.”

My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Noah’s there,” she said slowly, like she was trying to explain something she had trouble even putting into words. “But… I can’t talk about everything with him. Not the hard stuff, at least. Not the things that really eat at me.”

I nodded slowly, still trying to piece it together. “But he knows about… what happened to you. Your—” I paused, not wanting to use the word unless she wanted to. “Your SA.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, almost absently. “He knows… just not the details. We never talked about it. Not once.”

My stomach twisted.

“What do you mean you never talked about it?” I asked, confused, a bit sharper than I meant to sound.

She stared ahead. “I told him. Just once. He handled the court stuff, made sure I was safe, made sure that guy went to jail… but emotionally?” She shook her head. “He shut down. He couldn’t handle it. I don’t think he knew how to. And every time it almost came up again, he just changed the subject. Or got weirdly distant. So I stopped trying.”

I blinked slowly, and a wave of irritation crept up my spine. Not at her—but at Noah.

I clenched my jaw. “That’s your brother.”

“I know,” she muttered.

“He’s supposed to be there for you,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm, but there was heat in it now. “Not just legally, not just logistically—emotionally too. I’m pretty sure he was your legal guardian at the time too, wasn’t he?”

She nodded.

“I think he tried in his own way,” she said quietly, like she was trying to defend him. “I don’t think he meant to shut me out. But he was young too, and probably didn’t know what to say.”

“I don’t care,” I said, harsher than I intended, and immediately softened my tone. “I mean, I care, but… that’s not good enough. What happened is messed up, and Noah was all you had, and the people who love you should’ve been there—fully there. Noah should’ve asked if you were okay. If you wanted to talk. If you just wanted someone to sit beside you while you cried.”

She looked at me now, really looked at me, and her eyes glistened under the soft lamp light.

“I’m glad you’re talking to me about it,” I said, voice low. “But it pisses me off that you had to hold that in for four years. That you felt like you couldn’t lean on the one person who was supposed to have your back no matter what.”

Silence settled between us, heavy but not cold.

Then she whispered, “I didn’t realize how much I needed someone until you started listening.”

I smiled.

“Well I’m a good listener right?” I said, referencing what she told me that night we went to that night food market.

The way she looked at me, I could tell she remembered her words too.

“Yeah…you are Matt.”

“You know,” Daphne said, her voice soft as we walked through the quiet park, bundled in jackets against the crisp night air, “your company pays really well.”

We decided to get out of the apartment for some fresh air.

“Yeah?” I glanced over at her.

She nodded, stuffing her hands deeper into her coat pockets. “I didn’t expect to be making this much. I mean… twenty grand a month is a lot for a personal photographer.”

A small smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. If only she knew the real reason.

“Well,” I said, keeping it casual, “you deserve it. You’re a perfectionist—you work hard.”

There was a beat of silence as we walked under a canopy of trees, the city lights faint in the distance. Then she spoke again.

“You know… I think by next month, I’ll have my student loans paid off.”

My head turned. “You told me that was still a work in progress.”

She grinned, proud. “It was. But… it’s happening.”

I bumped her shoulder gently. “So… what about that big girl purchase now?”

Her brow lifted. “You mean the car?”

I nodded. “Yeah. The Porsche. That one you’ve been eyeing.”

She let out a laugh. “I’ll probably start with something regular for now. If I’m going to get that dream Porsche, it has to be baby pink and fully customized.”

I smirked. “Smart move. Think long-term.”

I nodded. “The porsche yah”

She let out a chuckle. “I’ll probably get a regular car for now. Plus if i'm gonna get that dream Porsche it was to be baby pink and that is to be customized.”

“True true, thinking smart.”

Daphne nudged my arm lightly, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Well… I did make a different big girl purchase,” she said, feigning innocence.

I looked at her, amused. “Oh yeah? What was it?”

She bit back a grin. “I got myself a Chanel bag.”

I blinked. “A Chanel bag?”

She nodded proudly. “Yup. When I was in London, I used to visit this really nice mall, and there was a Chanel store. Every time I walked by, this one bag was always in the display window… same spot, every time. I kind of made it my goal to buy it one day.”

I let out a soft chuckle, unable to stop myself from smiling at the way her eyes lit up. My gaze flicked down to our intertwined hands, her fingers warm and relaxed in mine.

“Well,” I said, squeezing her hand gently, “you deserve all the Chanel bags you want, sweetheart.”

Her smile only grew, walking under city lights, hand in hand.

If there was a girl who deserved every good thing the world had to offer, it’d be Daphne Denoire.

“What else do you want?” I asked, curious.

She paused, thinking for a moment.

“Maybe visit London again,” she said. “See some of the girls I met there.”

I nodded, and we kept walking in comfortable silence. That was until something caught my eye.

“Wait, sweetheart,” I said, gently stopping her with a hand on her arm.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Your ribbon’s coming undone.”

She always wore that signature bow, tied neatly into her hair with a ribbon. It was slipping loose now.

“Oh—thank you, Matt,” she said, starting to fix it.

“No problem.”

But then she hesitated. “No, I mean… thank you.”

“For what?” I asked, my brows raising slightly.

“For everything,” she said softly.

I let out a quiet chuckle. “Everything?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I mean it. Everything I have right now, I feel like I owe it to you. You offering me this job… it’s changed everything, Matt. It’s done more good than I think you realize.”

Her voice was quiet, sincere—and I could tell she meant every word.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” I said gently. “I saw potential in you—and I was right.”

She nodded, eyes soft in the dim light, but her voice came again, quieter. “Not just that, Matt… I’m thankful for you too.”

A small knot formed in my stomach.

A faint smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah?”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah... You’re the only person who actually stopped long enough to see me. Really see me.”

Her fingers tightened just slightly around mine as she continued, “You’ve never let me down. Even when I pushed you away, even when I couldn’t talk… you stayed. You listened. You didn’t make me feel broken.”

She paused, her voice getting smaller. “Thank you for last night… for just letting me cry. For holding me. For not asking me to explain it all when I couldn’t.”

I looked over at her then, at the girl who once said she felt like she’d never be normal again—standing beside me, stronger than she knew.

“You never have to thank me for being there,” I said. “It’s not something I do out of obligation. I care about you, Daphne. A lot.”

“Really?”

I smiled. “Really, sweetheart.”

She let go of my hand, interlocking our arms instead.

“I care a lot about you too, Matty,” she said softly, slipping her arm through mine.

My chest tightened in the best way possible. I didn’t say anything right away—didn’t trust myself to without sounding like an idiot. My throat felt thick, and my smile was too wide to hide. So, I looked ahead, trying to wrest away the warmth rising to my cheeks.

But I wasn’t fast enough.

“Wait—” Daphne leaned forward, peeking at me. Her eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh Matt, are you blushing?”

I turned away instantly, rubbing the back of my neck, trying to play it cool. “No, I’m not. It’s—it's cold. The air’s just messing with my face.”

“Mhm,” she grinned, pulling her arm away from mine and stepping in front of me to block my path. “Sure. Definitely the air.”

I stared at her, deadpan. “It is chilly.”

Daphne let out a soft giggle, rising up slightly on her toes to cup both my cheeks, her fingertips warm against my too-cold skin. “You look so cute when you blush,” she teased gently. Her eyes sparkled like she had just discovered a secret she’d never let go of.

I groaned under my breath. “Please stop.”

“Never,” she whispered.

Before I could say anything else, she leaned forward and pressed the lightest kiss to my lips. Sweet. Soft. Her nose bumped mine, and for a second, the world just stopped.

My hands instinctively found her waist, anchoring her there for a moment longer before she pulled back, eyes wide and still smiling.

I swallowed. “You're dangerous, you know that?”

She was still smiling at me, all soft and sweet after that kiss. Her hands slowly slid down back to my hands, but the warmth stayed there like a brand.

I barely had a second to breathe before she tilted her head and said, “You know…I should compliment you more often.”

I raised a brow, still recovering. “Why?”

She grinned. “So I can see your loverboy side more.”

I blinked, immediately scoffing under my breath. “Loverboy?”

She nodded with way too much confidence. “Yup. You’ve got the whole shy blushy romantic thing going on. It’s cute.”

I let out a dry laugh, crossing my arms. “I’m not a loverboy.”

She stepped closer again, her face way too amused. “Oh no? What do you call what just happened then? The blushing? The gentle forehead kiss yesterday? The way you bring me matcha every morning?”

I looked away, jaw ticking. “That’s not loverboy behavior. That’s…that’s basic human decency.”

I don't know, was it?

She gasped dramatically. “Matt, you’re literally the definition of a loverboy. Just accept it.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, but she was still smiling like she had all the evidence in the world stacked against me. Maybe she did.

“I’m not,” I repeated, a little weaker this time.

She leaned up again, whispering near my ear. “Whatever helps you sleep at night…loverboy.”

I groaned, but even I couldn’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. I was screwed.

“You literally just blushed because I said I cared about you,” she continued her taunting.

I shook my head, walking faster to hide how flustered I was. “I’m not doing this.”

But Daphne just skipped to catch up beside me, bumping her shoulder against mine. “Pipe down lover boy, no need to be rude”

“I’m ignoring you.”

“Mmhm, and you're blushing again.”

“Daphne.”

“Lover Boy.”

“Alright, I’m officially taking you home.”

“Alright, Lover boy.”

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS NOW!

[a/n: Matt is a lover boy. literally my favorite car video ever. Like and reblog! AND comment, I love reading them. mwah!] –ceyana

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phoenixeclipse-lmkau · 2 months ago

Text

The Cursed Warlords Chapter #Nineteen – Hurt and Comfort

Of all the things you had to deal with on this journey, staying long enough to get your period once again was NOT apart of your plan!

It took the rest of that day to walk around the town. Spirit was firm in the fact that she didn’t want you to get involved with whoever was in the town. The monkey demon Mink had ran off so quickly you were unable to catch up with him even if you tried. So you continued your trip.

Wukong nuzzled your face happy with his win, having scared off the other demon. Though it wasn’t like Mink was trying to hurt you and was actually trying to help the warlords. But Wukong didn’t care, he tried to take him away from you! His precious darling, and for all he knew you could have gotten hurt before the curse would get broken!

‘You are an idiot,’ Macaque chirped with annoyance as je lounged on your other shoulder.

Wukong gawked at his mate in offence, ‘I am not! I protected our Reader!’ he explained rolling his eyes at his mate’s words.

‘Did you even think of the fact that we could have asked him to get Reader to bring us to Flower Fruit Mountain?’ Macaque responded with a groan.

Wukong opened his mouth to retort only to snap his mouth shut in shock. His brain fried for a second as he registered the fact that he just ruined their chance to break their curse sooner and get Reader to their home. Not to mention they could have found a way to get you to come to their home and you wouldn’t be able to leave without their say so.

‘Thought so,’ Macaque grumbled with an annoyed look on his face.

Though he hadn’t really helped the matter much. While Wukong was scaring off Mink he had let himself try and get your attention instead. The whole time he just wanted you to look at him instead of someone else, just like when he first met Wukong. Back when he had pined for Wukong, before they were mates and when he had to scare off the suitors who tried to get Wukong’s hand in marriage.

‘Macaque.’

His thoughts wondered back to those days, he could still feel the roaring jealousy that he felt back then. So many of Wukong’s suitors who died at his hand, he wasn’t even sure if his mate knew just how many. He purposefully didn’t tell him of the few that had been apart of the troop only to mysteriously disappear when they got too cozy with the single king.

‘Moon.’

Not that Wukong was any better. He knew how many people had died because someone said something bad about the ‘lone warrior,’ the ‘shadow’ of the king. Back when he first joined the troop after being a lone traveler for his whole life. Their screams were so lovely, whe didn’t mention how wonderful and horrible it made him feel. Wonderful because Wukong gave him attention before he proposed and horrible because at first Wukong saw them as friends and ‘sworn brothers,’ he rolled his eyes at the thought.

His mate had loved him just as much as he loved him ever since they met. He was just a dense idiot sometimes and didn’t realize it was romantic love rather than platonic. All he was at first was his ‘best bud’, well that changed when Macaque made the first move into courtship.

‘My Moon! Don’t ignore me! I said sorry,’ Wukong was all but crying at this point, his eyes wide with regret and fear for his life at the silence of his mate.

Macaque turned to look at him and rolled his eyes with a smirk. He didn’t respond only making Wukong even more silently hurt at the silence but he couldn’t do anything if he tried. Leaving you to calm the whiny monkey who was trying to get his mate’s attention.

>>>

The next few days were calm, they were peaceful and it was strange. Gentle breezes and a clear sky without a cloud in sight. Everything was easy for once, just you following Spirit’s lead towards your destination. However you didn’t expect this new road block to happen.

Sleeping in your under dress and using your outer hanfu as a pillow you woke up to something you didn’t want to deal with. You realized it in the early morning when you woke up with a painful cramp in your abdomen. Dread flooded through you as you gripped your stomach in pain. Your quiet groans caught the attention of Spirit who was already awake.

“You okay Reader?” She asked with a frown covering her lips.

“Uugh…. No,” you muttered trying to calm your cramps, it physically pained you knowing that you couldn’t have any ibuprofen or Advil, There was nothing to calm down the pain here.

You felt her hand press against your head and she frowned, you weren’t warm. You had plenty of sleep the last few days, she’s made sure you always had something to eat… Narrowing her eyes she gently shook your shoulder, hoping to get more information. She couldn’t help you if she didn’t know what was wrong, and she wanted to know what was going on before the cubs woke up. It was a miracle that they hadn’t woken up yet.

“What’s wrong?” She asked slowly.

You were about to respond when two small chirps turned your attention to them. A chirp from Peaches indicating he was awake and wanted food. That want for food was soon pushed back when he noticed you laying on the ground curled up in a fetal position. This wasn’t odd since you fell asleep in all kinds of positions but the look of pain on your face immediately had him chirping in worry.

“Shh Peaches. Reader I need you to tell me what’s wrong- do I smell blood?” That caught Plum’s attention. Now you were on the ground with three monkeys looking at you, chirping worriedly and asking for information, all while you were laying down and feeling mortified about the entire ordeal.

‘Blood!? Reader! Darling what happened!?’ Wukong chirped frantically his mate right at his side looking you over and sniffing your face.

“… It’s nothing,” You muttered in embarrassment.

“What? You’re bleeding,” Spirit bit back a slight growl bubbling up her through at the mere thought of it.

“I’m on my period. It’s not an external wound,” You grumbled before gently pushing the demoness away.

Said demoness gave you a blank look, blinking slowly at your words. She tilted her head in confusion, period? What was a period. She had never heard of such a thing, was it something that humans got? Was it a sickness!?

Wukong was no better, in fact he was still frantically looking you over in confusion. He had no idea what a period was, all he knew was that you were bleeding and you were in pain.

The only one of the three who was calm was Macaque. With his six ears he knew what a period was, his cheeks slightly flushed at the thoughts that flooded through his head. It was similar to a monkey demoness’s heat, at least from what he understood. The difference being was that demoness’ were most fertile during their heat while humans’ were most fertile right after their ‘periods.’ He was not going to disclose the delicious thoughts that flooded his mind, particularly the thought of you in their nest on Flower Fruit Mountain and beneath the two warlords.

“What the hell is a period?” Spirit asked, completely confused without a clue of what you were talking about.

You looked over your shoulder at her in shock. “A period, my menstrual cycle.”

Spirit stared back at you, tilting her head as she tried to figure out what you were talking about. Narrowing her eyes she asked, “You bleed? And it’s natural? How often does this happen?”

“Mmm… bout once a month, for a little less than a week,” You replied before groaning again, with all three monkeys gawking at you.

“You’re kidding! Why would you have to do that!? Are you sick!?” she asked nearly shouting in her shock.

You chuckled before grunting when the laugh hit your gut. “No. Women get it because it’s hoe their body handles their fertility… or something like that,” You e plainly vaguely not wanting to go in depth with it.

“Oh… So do you like… need rest?” Spirit asked unsure of what to do in this situation.

You nodded slightly curling up a little more, you tried to stretch a bit only for your gut to cramp even worse. Before you were able to curl up again, Plums pressed himself against your abdomen. You opened your mouth to say something but the words died in your throat, the heat of his body, and the slight pressure was nice. It was like a little heating pad.

“Hey get off of her. She said she was in pain,” Spirit growled at the white furred monkey.

Plums looked up at her blinking slowly before sticking his tongue out at her. Spirit’s fur puffed out as she growled and reached over you to grab the monkey.

“No. He’s fine,” You muttered tiredly and Spirit stopped her movement, a pout forming on her lips at your words. Regardless of her emotions she still nodded and left him alone.

Peaches chirped towards Plums before joining him in curling up with you, settling himself so he was comfy. His tail laying on top of Plums as he snuggled up to both of you.

“… Do you need something to eat?” Spirit asked from over your shoulder and you responded with a hum of agreement.

You didn’t look but you could hear her walking away from you. You wanted to say something, anything but couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but groan. Both monkeys that were curled up with you chirped sadly at your pain and you couldn’t help but lightly chuckle towards them.

You didn’t even realize you fell asleep until Spirit was shaking you awake with a bowl in her hand. Not questioning where she got or stored the object you accepted the vegetable stew, there was rice, carrots and some green beans. All together it was rather bland and definitely not something that you wanted to eat, but it was food and you really needed to eat.

“Thank you,” You mumbled, able to sit up now. Both cubs sat on your lap as you ate the soup that Spirit had made.

“I’m not a good cook… but it’s probably better than snacking on only fruit,” The monkey demoness explained, fidgeting with her clothes.

“Thank you, really. It could be worse, nothing is burnt and it’s fully cooked,” You replied with a light smile, all that you said was true, even if you were leaving out the part of no seasonings. You couldn’t blame her on that since you weren’t even sure where she would be able to get any seasonings anyway.

*CHIRP! CHIRP!*

You turned your gaze to the two monkeys on your lap, both with pouts on their faces. They were offended that you were thanking Spirit, thanking her without even acknowledging them! They were your future mates! And you were talking to her more than them!? Chirping again they waited for a response, and you delivered! Gently patting their heads and scratching them as you spoke. “Thank you two for your help too,” You chuckled as they purred.

Spirit rolled her eyes, “Oh please they didn’t even do anything.”

“… Are you jealous of cubs?” You asked and watched as Spirit’s whole face turned bright red, her mask turning a shade of purple from the fluster that covered her face. Both cubs laughed at her expression with smug looks on their faces.

“What!? No! As if I’d be jealous over two brats!” she growled, turning her back on you with a huff much to your amusement.

Both cubs chittered and laughed as Spirit fumed next to you. It was honestly adorable. You laughed before letting out another grunt as another cramp hit you. Spirit whirled around so fast you didn’t even see her move, as she came face to face with you.

Staring at you for a solid minute she finally sighed and muttered, “We’re not going anywhere for a while are we?”

“What? No we could- ugh… okay probably not,” You grumbled.

‘It’s okay love! Rest, we’ll travel later,’ Macaque chirped, he knew you couldn’t understand but wanted you to rest.

Spirit ignored the monkey cub and took a different approach. She yawned, and stretched her arms before plopping behind you. Her hands gently combing through your hair, gently massaging your head. Your eyes drooped as she scratched your scalp.

Laying back against her you laid your head in front of her crossed legs. A yawns escaped your lips and quiet chirps left the two cubs as they snuggled back up on your abdomen with a welcome warmth and slight pressure just enough to feel comfortable. That wasn’t even mentioning the gentle, cool hands that combed through your hair over and over in a calming and sleep inducing way.

It kind of reminded you of the way your mother used to comb through your hair. Cheerful memories filled your head, now bittersweet as you’re unable to see your family. Your heart clenched in pain as you wished and prayed that they were safe and well during your absence.

Once again you fell asleep, not noticing the way that Spirit curled up beside you and let herself also fall asleep. If you weren’t going anywhere any time soon then she might as well take advantage of the time and sleep.

Wukong glanced at Spirit with a slight scowl, he didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous of the small demoness. She was protective and while not nearly as strong as The Monkey Kings, she had her own strengths. She protected you when he and his mate couldn’t and if it weren’t for her you would likely starve, get killed, eaten or worse. He hated to admit it but she did deserve a place in his troop… she would definitely help you join the troop easier with a familiar face.

Wukong wasn’t stupid, he knew that he was going to need to get you used to him and Macaque when he finally brought you home. To your new home with him, Macaque and the rest of his troop on Flower Fruit Mountain.

‘She’s going to make our perfect Queen~,’ Wukong chirped with a smile and Macaque chuckled, his tail lightly slapping his mate in a teasing manner. ‘You speak the obvious my love~.’

Wukong laughed, ‘I only speak the truth~ She is our perfect Queen just as you are my perfect King~’

<<< Chapter #Eighteen - The Monkey Demon

Chapter #Twenty - Dark Forest >>>

#dead dove do not eat #sun wukong x macaque #yandere sun wukong #yandere macaque #shadowpeach x reader #sun wukong x reader #cursed warlords au #cursed warlords lmk au #macaque x reader #Arc One - Cursed

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catsannie · 7 months ago

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IM JUST EMBARRASSED

SYNOPSIS~ when your friends reach out saying you need to be more “social” and need to talk to more people, your friend tells you she “knows a guy” for you to get aquatinted with, what she didn’t tell you is he’s in another country and doesn’t speak the same language. will this work out?

AUTHORS NOTE ~ heyyyyy guys im starting to get back into writing this again, ive just been so busy 😔 but i hope yall enjoy this chapter! i apologize if its boring and if its ass😭, im still getting back into the hang of things

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Putting down her phone defeated, y/n looks over at the character that has been idling on her island. ‘why did i have to say i only knew animal crossing, i could have lied. or tried to change the conversation to something else.”

As she was about to turn off the switch a buzzing came from the couch. Looking towards the phone, it was yeri.

“Hey yeri, what’s up?” Y/N asked while trying to put everything away.

“you’re never going to believe who i got a message from!!” she squealed. Knowing yeri it was either a new guy she was talking to, or seunghun and yonghee trying to get her help on something.

“i don’t know yeri, was it seunghun telling you he got his foot stuck in a pot again?” Y/N asked. Knowing seunghun it was a possibility. “cause i can’t deal with having to put butter around his ankle because he’s too afraid to break the pot.”

“uhhhhh no, it was San!” Yeri exclaimed. “ he felt bad with how the conversation went and wants to try again!”

With a sigh, Y/N sat back down on her couch, ‘San? feel bad? why would he feel bad?’ does he just want to feel bad cause he can? or is there another reason. “Yeri, why does he feel bad? i should be the one feeling bad, cause clearly animal crossing wasn’t the greatest answer to give him.”

It was embarrassing. Since he clearly didn’t play the game or possibly like it. But there are more conversations to have that does not involve video games that neither of them play… for certain reasons.

“It is just who he is as a person Y/N. He feels bad that he asked a stupid question and didn’t ask a more straight forward one. He was also nervous.” Yeri Added. Y/N could hear some shuffling from the other end of the phone, yeri was either fidgeting because she’s nervous or getting onto her couch.

At this point, she was willing to play the long game. Test out the waters with San and see where things go. It could either go good and she learns the language, or it goes bad like all the other men she’s talked to in the past.

“Fine Yeri, if that’s how he feels about it i’ll send him a message tomorrow. I just want to turn off my switch and watch some tv. My brain is fried.” Y/N chuckled while picking up the switch controller.

“Your brain wouldn’t be fried if you went outside instead of playing animal crossing all day. But anyways, i’ll talk to you later i think seunghun actually got his foot stuck in a pot.” Yeri sighed while abruptly hanging up.

It was a normal occurrence for their friendship, Yeri being the sweetheart of them all. She sees the good in everyone, it doesn’t matter if you screwed her over in the past. If there was one person Y/N could trust with her life it was Yeri.

Looking at the time on her phone, Y/N stands up and cracks her back.

“yeah it’s about time i get my ass off this couch and do something.” Y/N mumbles while turning off the console.

Tomorrow will be the day she reaches out to San again to have an actual conversation.

TAGLIST~

@tiddygang2020 @1lovejinki @astrid-potato @potatos-on-clouds @staytinyluv

#love-beyond-barriers #ateez scenarios #ateez smau #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #choi san fanfic #choi san scenarios #choi san smau

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smut-anarchy · 6 months ago

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Own Me - Chapter Four

Tags: Dom!Mattheo, Gryffandor!Reader, Cursing, Blackmail, Anxiety!Reader, Dubious Consent, Spanking, Language, M**blood Slur

Word Count: 4,187 Words

Chapter Four: Reaping Rewards... And Punishments Too

How did my life turn into this?

After kissing you stupid in the broom closet Mattheo only interacted with you during classes. You were thankful for the break from him, your neurons still fried from his amazingly wicked lips. You felt lost, there was the part of you with hatred for his arrogance and the manipulation he’s put you through. But smaller, growing part of you was feeling the sweltering heat of lust, an ache not only wanting a repeat of the kiss but even more than that.

You’d only shared two other kisses in your time at Hogwarts, one an extremely awkward moment between you and Neville Longbottom during a game of truth or dare in your third year. Needless to say, it had been nothing you were interested in repeating with the fellow Gryffindor, and it took a year and a half for Neville to make eye contact with you again. The other had been a simple cheek kiss from Harry after giving him some valuable information you’d known of the Hungarian Horntail dragon he was set to face during the Triwizard Tournament in your fourth year, and though pleasant it hardly awakened any feelings inside you the way Mattheo had with his teeth and tongue.

On Friday night, your owl, a barn owl you affectionally named Hootie-Pie, flew into your room with a black paper bag and a green envelope. Softly petting her soft feathers and cooing a thanks to her you accepted the bag, tearing open the letter immediately.

Halloween party tomorrow - 7PM. You’re serving drinks, Kitten.

Part one of your punishment is in the bag.

M.R.

You felt your stomach plummet, terrified of what punishment could be in the bag. To your horror it was a black velvet strapless bodysuit with matching elbow length gloves, a cat-eared headband, a cat tail attachment and a chunky collar with a comically huge bell and large green tag that said ‘Kitty’. You didn’t know where Mattheo could even get something this tacky or racy, but you were pissed.

Your rage only grew further when you’d slipped the costume on an hour before the party, that fucker had charmed the ears and tail to twitch and sway like a real cat, the movements being attuned to your mood.

This was only part one of your punishment, so the logical part of your brain pleaded with you to behave tonight. You often had to remind yourself that Mattheo held your future in his cruel hands while you dressed in the costume, only adjusting it to add some long black thigh high stockings to give you a semblance of covering.

You’d worn your robes down to the Slytherin common room, not willing to risk being caught by a professor or Filch in such an indecent costume. When you got close enough you saw Theo leaning casually against the wall, a mischievous glint in his eyes upon seeing you.

“Piccola leonessa, I’ve been asked to retrieve you this fine evening.” He greeted, doing a small bow in front of you. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at the ridiculous image of the tall boy bowing to you, his joke slightly setting your nerves at ease.

“Such a gentleman, Nott.” You grinned, “Maybe I got stuck with the wrong Slytherin.” He chuckled, his eyes dropping to look you over.

“I wouldn’t say that too soon Piccolina. The robes, I’ve been told to take them from you.” He held his hand out expectantly, giving you a playful lopsided grin. You scowled back at him, but nonetheless shrugged off the fabric providing you coverage and dropped it into his awaiting hand. You refused to let any shame grow under his inspecting eyes, straightening yourself and sliding your hand to your hip in a challenging pose.

Theo let his eyes wander over your figure shamelessly, a whistle coming out of his mouth as he stared appreciatively, “Merda, you look good enough to eat.”

Theo’s reaction was definitely a confidence booster; You felt weirdly naked without one of your chunky sweaters, not used to showing as much skin as you were. Still, you steeled yourself, embracing the boldness within so you could get through this night.

“Thank you, Nott, though I can hardly take credit. Mattheo picked it out.” You mused, growing more brazen under Theo’s gaze.

“Remind me the thank him then.” He mumbled, his eyes finally reaching back to yours, the steel grey orbs filled with heat.

“Not that I mind the attention but don’t you and your little friends have a rule about mixing with mudbloods, Nott?” You wondered aloud. Since you and Draco’s little tiff the question has been on your mind, as long as you’d been serving Mattheo no one else had elected to use the word to you or in front of you.

“The only one that cares is Draco,” Theo chucked, “And that’s mostly because he can’t handle that he wants to fuck Granger but has to settle for Parkinson. The rest of us enjoy our muggle relations studies from time to time.” Your mouth dropped open in shock.

Oh Godric, I can’t believe Luna was right!

“You bunch of sluts!” You’d gaped, the information far too mind blowing for your brain. Theo laughed, amused by your astonishment.

“Well then,” He cleared his throat, “Shall we, piccola?” He outstretched his arm to you. You rolled your eyes, but looped your own through his. He spoke the password and the door appeared, Theo accompanying you down the stairs.

“So be honest,” You started, “Am I the only one in costume?” Theo wasn’t wearing one, if you were you going to have to fight embarrassment all night long.

“No, everyone is wearing a costume.” Theo answered, his voice betraying his laughing smile.

“But you aren’t wearing one.”

“I have a mask, I’ll put it on later.” You nodded. The closer you got to the common room the more your nerves started to rile up in your body. Theo, somehow sensing your unease, stopped right before the opening.

“A word of advice, leonessa?” Theo offered. You shook your head at him, with the bundle of nerves in your stomach you’d take any advice.

“Behave tonight. Make him happy and he’ll reward you.”

Your face scrunched up at the thought, making Mattheo happy seemed impossible, there was no telling what the unpredictable boy wanted from you. However, the prospect of a reward was enticing, you looked at Theo with curiosity, lips ready to ask questions. The Slytherin must have anticipated this, ushering you into the full common room with an impish grin.

You followed Theo through the throng of people, the seemingly endless waves of people parting for him with ease. He led you to the couches in the middle of the room where the group had set up for the night. Enzo, dressed as a pirate, was filling up two fire whiskey shots. Next to him was Blaise, who opted for his quidditch Jersey over a traditional costume. Across for them sat a bored looking Draco, a silver crown atop his head and a green fur cape around his shoulders, across his lap was a laughing Pansy Parkinson, matching his price costume with a princess costume of her own.

Between the couches, lounging on a green armchair was Mattheo, a white button down shirt with splatters of red stretched across his lithe and muscular torso, a red tie loosely around his neck. When he noticed you and Theo he smiled, revealing two fanged teeth.

He’s a bloodsucker alright.

“Well, don’t you look fucking bitable, Kitten.” He welcomed. His voice broke Blaise and Enzo from their discussion, their eyes landing on you.

“Holy shit!” Enzo gasped, his eyes rapidly roaming over your costume. Blaise nodded in agreement, looking over you with subtle interest.

You felt your body warming in a flush, their attention and appreciative looks making you feel bashful. You forced yourself to walk with confidence, nodding greetings at everyone, even Draco and Pansy who elected to huff and turn their noses away at you.

“I’m glad you like it sir, thank you so much for picking it out.” Mattheo’s dark orbs gleamed in satisfaction. Theo’s words echoed in your mind — behave tonight, get a reward.

Though the other boys eyes had wandered on your body, taking in your formally hidden curves and skin, it hadn’t sent chills over you the way Mattheo’s was. Mattheo’s gaze slowly crawled up your body, from your heels to your faux ears, his observing, dark irises licking lustful paths of heat on every inch of your skin.

“You’re being so good today, Kitten.” Mattheo praised, his approval sending a spark of yearning into your gut.

Merlin, if he complimented you like this all the time you’d be a gooey mess.

“You wanted me to serve drinks?” You questioned, hoping to get away from his eyes and the seductive powers they held over you.

Mattheo nodded, pointing at a little alcove to the left where stockpiles of alcohol sat. “Do a couple laps and then come right back here. I’ll be paying attention so no funny business tonight.”

You chirped out a cheerful, ‘yes sir!’ and skittered to the table, filling a nearby tray full of as many shots as you could carry. Your eyes were on the prize of whatever kind of reward Theo hinted at, so you’d smiled at everyone, offering them a drink. Most of the partygoers didn’t recognize you, which was made apparent the more you’d walked around. Many of the pureblood supremacist students accepting drinks with thankful nods or lustful comments towards you. Still, you ignored everything, taking it all in stride and making several loops around the room until most of the bottles had emptied.

When you figured Mattheo would be happy with your work, you weaved your way through the bodies back to the couch area. Breaking past the crowd of people you’d found him, though it was no longer only the usual group surrounding him. Leaned over his chair with her polished claws gripping the armrest was Daphne Greengrass in a fucking angel costume.

Yeah fucking right, if she’s an angel I’d rather be in hell.

Mattheo looked as bored as Draco did, though Draco was at least partially entertaining Pansy with a few words here and there for the gossiping Slytherin girl. Mattheo looked as if he was completely ignoring the girl, his eyes searching the crowd.

When he saw you approaching his smile appeared, face alight in interest. “There you are Kitten, you did so good tonight. I’m almost impressed.” You couldn’t help but preen under the compliment, a slight blush finding its way to your cheeks.

Godric, if he keeps this up this might not be so bad.

“What are you doing here lion, wander into the snake den on accident?” Daphne’s voice cackled, her face contorted with malice. You could feel your temper rising, the fangs of your anger ready to tear into the girl.

“I’m doing Mattheo a favor tonight.” You curtly responded, your voice holding a chill to withhold the animosity buried in your throat. Daphne looked between you and Mattheo, eyes darting trying to make sense of the scenario no one in the castle outside of Mattheo and his closest friends seemed to be privy to. Another one of her shrill laughs burst out of her.

“So the rumors are true! Riddle is slumming it with a mudblood! Mattheo, baby, you don’t need her, I can give you everything and more.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, making you want to retch. Her implication that Mattheo was ‘slumming it’ with you made you seethe in annoyance, as if you’d be here if it wasn’t for her!

“Nice costume, I wasn’t aware you could dress up as a pigeon.” You growled, your eyes rolling at her desperate attempts of seducing Mattheo. The boy in question seemed amused by you, his attention away from the Slytherin girl. This drove Daphne mad, the boy of her affections seemingly discarding her for what she believed to be an inferior witch.

“Excuse me? I’m an angel, you mangy cat.”

You strode over, now directly in front of her and Mattheo. “Oh my mistake, my second guess was going to be Buckbeak’s ugly sister.” You snarled. Behind Daphne you heard Enzo and Blaise snort, Theo’s soft chuckling next to them.

Buckbeak, forgive me for using your name to roast this bitch.

“Kitten, heel.” Mattheo’s deep voice cut through the rising friction between you and Daphne. He pat the arm of his chair and you followed the silent command to sit down on it, still choosing to glare a Daphne.

“Oh, I understand,” Daphne fumed, “She’s a little fucking pet for you.” Daphne’s smugness seeped out of her every pore, her hurt pride fueling her foul words. “What would your father think?”

Though the party was still going on at full force, the bubble you were in was stilled to the point you could hear a pin drop. Draco’s gasp and Theo’s ‘oh no’ was distantly registered, though you couldn’t take your eyes off Mattheo, his entire body shaking in fury, his muscles tensed and jaw tightened.

You almost fell off the arm of the chair with how fast he stood up, his face set into a menacing glower, the veins of his neck straining under his skin. “You don’t get to say shit about my fucking father. Get the fuck out of here.”

Daphne sputtered, attempting to take back what she said but Mattheo only sat back down and glared up at her, eyes daring her to stay and test his wrath further. In an attempt at saving face she backed away a bit, before settling her eyes on you.

“You’re just a pet Lion, you’ll never be worth anything to him.” She snapped. This time you were prepared for Mattheo’s wrath, settling a hand softly on his chest to keep him from storming over to her. You don’t know what came over you, but you kept your hand on his chest, sliding down the arm of the chair to settle right in his lap. His raging, fevered skin seeping through his clothes, warming you instantly. If he had not been such a ticking bomb right now his warmth would be almost comfortable for your state of undress.

“You’re right,” You admitted, her face briefly quirked smugly, “But that’s still more than you’ll ever be.”

Daphne scoffed, scowling and stomping away muttering a string of unkind curses under her breath.

“Gods, I hate her.” You released, looking at Mattheo. His amber irises darkened, resembling hot coals. His eyes bore into yours, behind them flickered something you couldn’t identify, but as fast as it came it went and was replaced my a mischievous glint.

“C’mon you troublemaker.” His gruff voice demanded. Without any further word he scooped you up in his arms and threw you over his shoulder.

You squealed, arms smacking his back as he walked away from his laughing friends, Enzo cheering loudly.

“Mattheo put me down! This is embarrassing!”

“Don’t make things worse for yourself, Kitten. You’re already in trouble.” You slumped on his shoulder, surrendering under the promising threat in his voice. You sighed grumpily, frustrated that you’d no longer receive the reward you’d been aiming for now.

Damn it all! It was going so good until that bitch showed up!

Mattheo took you to what you assumed was his dorm, kicking the door closed and tossing you on the solitary large bed in the room. Like you, it looked like Mattheo had no roommates. You wanted to look around and be nosy, curious about the things Mattheo would have in his room, but your curiosity was shattered after hearing Mattheo place silencing charm on the room.

“You can be so mouthy, you know that?” Mattheo asked sardonically, “I wonder if it’s a habit you’re ever going to break.”

“She deserved it though…” you’d argued weakly, not sure if putting up a fight would be worth it at this point now that you’re alone with the unpredictable boy.

Mattheo hummed in agreement, slipping his tie from around his neck. The motion chilled you, you were alone in his room and he was undressing. A stone of panic settled in your gut, your eyes flickering everywhere but him and hands fidgeting into the soft sheets under you.

You were a virgin, you can’t do this.

“Stand up Kitten.” On shaky legs you followed the command, your body tingling with waves of anxiety. He took your place on the bed, sitting down on the edge and stretching his long legs out. He motioned for you to stand between them and you hesitantly did.

He pulled you closer by your hips, causing your breath to hitch, his warm large hands summoning terribly dirty images to your mind. His eyes raked over you, inspecting every inch of skin available to his greedy orbs.

“Fucking hell, Kitten. You look damn good like this.” His deep voiced rumbled, sending heat straight to your stomach.

“Mattheo,” you breathed, your voice coming out like a sigh, “I-I can’t — I mean…” You stumbled over your words, choking on a mix of lust and anxiety gathered in your throat.

“Did you think I was going to fuck you, Kitten?”

All of the air left your lungs, your heart pounding in your chest like a bludger, every thump cracking against your ribs and reverberating throughout your bones. Your face flamed up in a blush, you chewed on your plump bottom lip, nodding wordlessly.

“Don’t worry Kitten, your virginity is safe,” He cooed, his eyes betraying the sweet tone of his words with a mischievous twinkle, “Though I’m afraid everything else is mine.” He punctuated that wicked sentence by sliding his hands from your waist to cup your perky, round bottom.

You slipped out a gasp as his fingers groped and squeezed your backside, the sensation igniting desire that rippled through your entire being. “H-how?” You released, utterly breathless by his hands again.

“It’s simple,” He chuckled, his mouth curved into a teasing smile, “Your face and body say it all. You act like every time is the first time anyone’s touched you. You’re stupidly easy to read, Kitten.” He pinched your butt cheek, causing your breath to stutter out of you.

“Tonight is part two of your punishment. I’m going to bend you over my knee, you get five spanks for breaking Malfoy’s nose and five for taunting Greengrass tonight. Then you’ll leave this room, your ass red with my handprints, understand?” His voice drawled sadistically, his fingers still stroking the soft skin of your ass.

“I didn’t taunt her! She started it!” You argued.

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, removing his hands from you completely. You hadn’t realized until he removed them how warm they were on your cool skin, your brain yearning to call them back to touch your icy skin. “Then what was all that at the end? Sliding into my lap? Face it, Kitten, you were claiming me.”

You shook your head, mouth opening and closing trying to protest his absurd statement. Of course Mattheo wasn’t yours, you’d only done that because Daphne was being a bitch. You weren’t jealous, you couldn’t be, you had no right to be. Anything between you and Mattheo was strictly contractual, born out of your stupid decision to climb into a magical vase and break it. No, you told yourself, there was no way Mattheo was right, if it had been any other girl it wouldn’t have mattered, Daphne was just an evil bitch that needed to be taken down a peg, and you were fit to give it to her that’s all.

“Regardless, Kitten,” he interrupted your boundless thoughts, “That’s your punishment. If you take them like a good girl, I’ll give you a reward.”

Your body vibrated with nervous energy, Mattheo patting his knee with a smirk on his face. You braced yourself before gently lowering yourself over his lap, your stomach flush with his muscular thighs. He trailed his hand down your spine, eliciting shivers throughout you, before he settled on your plump ass.

“You’re going to count each one Kitten, you stop we start over.”

You inhaled a deep breath, stuttering out a small agreement. His fingers traced the edges of the fabric bodysuit you wore, sliding it further to one side to fully expose your cheek to him. The air was charged with electricity, the tightness waiting to break upon Mattheo’s movements, you held your breath in anticipation.

He brought his hand down sharply, the sound echoing throughout the room. Out of instinct, your hips bucked in his lap, a mix of pain and pleasure flooding you.

“One.” you whispered, Mattheo let out a hum of approval.

His hand cracked down on you again, harder than the last time, the sting making you cry out.

“Two.” You whined, your voice growing more soft. His hand lightly caressed the skin he’d just smacked, the featherlight touches juxtaposed against the stinging skin. Three consecutive slaps met your ass, each one harder than the last, and you crying out to count out each one. The burn of the five spanks was intense, the throbbing ache lingering on your skin where it would likely remain for days after this.

“So good, Kitten. You’re halfway done.” Mattheo praised, his voice slightly breathless. He slid the bodysuit’s hem from your other cheek. A part of you was relieved that no more would come down on your already blushed cheek, another part of you was mortified at having both sides of your ass be a matching shade of red.

You shifted in his lap, though the slight movement was enough to have you notice a familiar wetness building between your legs. You hung your face, cowering in embarrassment that you were starting to like this.

A sharp whack rang throughout the room, his assault on the uncolored side of your ass beginning.

“Six.” You huffed, breathing heavily as the impact of his hand seemed to cup the entire fleshy mound of your ass.

Another one. Another count from your breathy voice.

“You know,” He mused, the deep timbre of voice murmured, “You should have seen the looks you got. I think everyone’s eyes were on you, Kitten.”

Thwack.

“Eight.”

“You know, I think even Theo and Enzo were looking at you.”

Thwack.

“Nine!” You moaned, the wetness between your legs no longer a small growing amount but rather proudly collected in your sex that you felt with every movement and spank. You vaguely registered what he’d said, deciding to file it away for later, too caught up in the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Maybe I should call them in here, so they can see how well you take your punishment.”

Thwack!

The final slap on your cheek leaving an exploding quake on the abused skin, your piercing shriek calling out the final number. Tears were welled up in your eyes in shame but drool pooled in your mouth from pleasure, you forced yourself to swallow before he could see.

Mattheo scooped you up and let you lay on his bed. The soft sheets bringing no comfort to your stricken ass, your fingers lightly prodding the tender skin. You squirmed, your breath coming out in shaky gasps as you tried to soothe yourself from the rough and arousing treatment.

“You did such a good job, Kitten.” Mattheo soothed, his hands softly stroking the fiery skin. “Would you like your reward now?”

You nodded, sitting up expectantly. Mattheo brought out his wand pointing it at your necklace, mumbling an incantation you didn’t recognize. When he finished he tossed his wand somewhere in his messy room.

“Now you have fifteen minutes instead of five to come when I call you.”

Relief filled your chest, you fought the urge to hug him, instead choosing to smile softly. “Thanks.” You uttered, somehow this felt more intimate than what you’d been doing before, even though your ass was burning in protest.

Mattheo pulled your face close, grasping your jaw in his hands that were inflicting stinging smacks on you just moments before. “Now go out there, with my marks on your body and remember that you’re mine. They can look all they want but every fucking inch of you belongs to me.” He growled, a devilish grin taking over his face as he drunk your flushed appearance.

You’d nodded, wincing out the door with a stumbling walk, your mind far too drunk on Mattheo to pay any mind to the party still going on. Theo happened to be leaning against the wall near the stairs, his arms holding your robe which you gratefully accepted. He cast a knowing look your way but didn’t say anything further as he guided you to the exit.

“Goodnight piccola, I hope it was what you wanted.”

I don’t even know what I want anymore.

You brooded, waving goodbye at Theo and hobbling your weak legs up the stairs. Your ass rosy and ablaze with arousal dripping down your thighs.

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