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Outdoor Kitchen in Birmingham An illustration of a sizable, traditional backyard patio kitchen with an addition to the roof

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Camping Cookware Enhances Outdoor Dining Experiences

When you’re out in the wilderness, having the right camping cookware can truly transform your outdoor dining experience. From the compact efficiency of the Jetboil Stash Cooking System for backpackers to the heavy-duty GSI Outdoors Stainless Troop Cookset designed for large groups, there’s something for every adventurer. Quality cookware not only makes meal prep and cleanup a breeze, but it also…

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House of Whispers (Part 2) - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: Everything comes to a head and (Y/N) is right in the middle.

warnings: 18+, angst, so much arguing srry not srry, unprotected p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, cheating, cursing, outdoor sex, idk what else honestly

required listening: Already Know by DEGA; Anxious In Venice by Superhumanoids

word count: 25,005

a/n: part 2 is here yay!!!! ik this part picks up abruptly but I truly didn't want to split it up into parts </3 curse you Tumblr! anyway this is the last part so pls enjoy. I had so much fun writing house of whispers, idk like I could clearly imagine everything happening in my head crying emoji you guys already know how much I love dragging shi out for no reason. anyway I have some ideas already for other single-part fics, I just need to write them!

Part 1 | Part 2

reblogs, likes, and replies are greatly appreciated and let me know if you'd like to see more!

Over the next few days, the tension only grew.

Valerie settled into her role as the center of attention with a practiced ease that made my skin crawl. She was charming and effervescent in front of Nicholas’s mom and the guests, always quick with a compliment or a laugh. But the moment their backs were turned, she shifted, snapping at the staff with thinly veiled disdain and issuing passive-aggressive commands like she was the queen of a castle that wasn’t hers, at least not yet. Not for another few months.

“Do you really think that centerpiece works?” I overheard her ask Maria, her voice syrupy sweet but her eyes hard. “I mean, I guess it’s fine if we’re going for rustic, but I thought we were aiming for elegant. Maybe… try again?”

Maria nodded quickly, her cheeks flushing as she scrambled to adjust the arrangement. I wanted to say something, to call her out, but I knew better. Confrontation wouldn’t end well — not with her. Instead, I bit my tongue, holding onto the simmering anger as I turned away.

Whenever Nicholas wasn’t in the room, she barked orders like a drill sergeant, her tone sharp and impatient. But the moment he returned, she was all soft smiles and doe-eyed adoration. It was a performance, and I hated how good she was at it.

The mistreatment wasn’t lost on Paolo or my mom either. Paolo shot me a glance as we passed through the dining room the next afternoon, his expression tight. “Your friend,” he said under his breath, the word ‘friend’ dripping with sarcasm, “has a real knack for making people feel small.”

“She’s not my friend,” I replied, my tone sharper than intended. Paolo raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the issue.

Maria, on the other hand, was less subtle. Later that evening, as we stood in the kitchen helping prepare dessert, she leaned close, her voice low. “That woman,” she muttered, nodding toward the patio where Valerie was holding court with a group of guests, “is a nightmare. I can’t believe Nicholas is marrying her.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Instead, I focused on slicing strawberries, the knife trembling slightly in my hand. My mom’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing.

Nicholas wasn’t oblivious, either. I caught him watching her more than once, his jaw tightening and his gaze darkening as she dismissed a server or criticized one of the housekeepers. He didn’t say anything, not directly, but the cracks in his façade were growing until he had enough.

The dining room was alive with conversation, the clinking of glasses and the low hum of laughter filling the space. I sat between Paolo and my mom, doing my best to focus on the meal and ignore the weight of Nicholas’s gaze from across the table. Valerie sat beside him, her hand resting possessively on his arm as she chatted animatedly with one of the other guests.

“So, Paolo,” Valerie said suddenly, her voice cutting through the chatter like a blade. “It’s fascinating, really, how someone in your line of work can find time to travel so much. I mean, I suppose it’s easier when you don’t have to worry about running a household.” The smile on her lips didn’t reach her eyes, and the condescension in her tone was unmistakable.

Paolo, to his credit, remained calm. He leaned back in his chair, his expression polite but cool. “It’s all about balance,” he replied smoothly. “I imagine you’d know a lot about that, being so… involved in planning your upcoming nuptials.”

“Balance is key,” he said, his voice deceptively calm as he set his fork down. “Of course, it also helps to treat the people around you with a little respect. Makes things run a lot smoother.”

Valerie blinked, her smile faltering for a split second before she recovered. “Oh, definitely,” she said, her tone overly sweet. “I was just saying how impressive Paolo’s schedule must be. It’s really a compliment.”

Nicholas’s gaze didn’t waver. “It didn’t sound like one.”

The tension at the table was palpable, the other guests suddenly finding excuses to excuse themselves. My mom gave me a knowing look as she stood, her arm brushing Paolo’s. “Let’s grab some coffee in the lounge,” she said brightly, her tone masking the awkwardness in the air. Paolo nodded, rising to follow her and the others out of the room.

I lingered, my heart pounding as I saw Nicholas lean back in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on Valerie. I should have left, but something in his expression made me hesitate. I slipped into the hallway just outside the dining room, pressing myself against the wall as I strained to hear their conversation.

“I don’t know what that was about,” Valerie said, her voice sharp now that the audience was gone. “You didn’t have to embarrass me like that.”

“I didn’t embarrass you,” Nicholas replied evenly. “You did that yourself.”

There was a pause, and I could imagine her bristling, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the tablecloth. “Excuse me?”

Nicholas’s tone was calm, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. “You think I don’t notice the way you talk to people? The way you treat them like they’re beneath you?”

“I don’t—” she started, but he cut her off.

“You do,” he said firmly. “And I’m sick of it. This isn’t the first time, and it’s not going to keep happening.”

Her voice dropped, sharp and cold. “What are you trying to say?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’m saying you need to start treating people with respect, Valerie.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. I held my breath, my pulse racing as I waited for her response.

When she finally spoke, her voice was low and tight with barely contained anger. “I can’t believe you’re taking their side. You’re overreacting,” she snapped. “I was just making conversation.”

“No, you were making digs,” he said sharply. “And you’ve been doing it since we got here.”

I pressed my hand to my chest, my heart pounding as the truth in his words settled over me. I shouldn’t have been listening, but I couldn’t tear myself away.

“I’m not the problem here,” Valerie hissed. “You’re the one who’s been acting different. Distant. Do you think I haven’t noticed?”

Nicholas exhaled sharply, the scrape of his chair audible as he leaned back. “I’ve been distant because I can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not.”

My breath caught at the bluntness in his tone. I edged closer to the doorway, my pulse pounding as I waited for her response.

Valerie didn’t miss a beat. “Fine? You think I’m the problem here?” Her voice was sharp but edged with something calculated. “Nicholas, you’ve been distracted since the moment we arrived. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way your eyes wander.”

There was a pause, heavy with implication. Nicholas didn’t respond immediately, and when he finally did, his voice was low but filled with quiet anger. “Don’t try to twist this.”

“I’m not twisting anything,” she said quickly, her voice softening as if she’d just realized she’d pushed too far. “Look, I know the last few months have been… stressful. Planning the wedding, keeping up appearances—it’s a lot. And maybe I haven’t been as understanding as I should be.”

Her tone shifted, adopting an air of vulnerability. It was a performance, but an effective one. “But that’s no excuse to start attacking me at the dinner table. You humiliated me, Nicholas. In front of your family.”

Nicholas sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. “You’re not the victim here, Valerie. I’m not going to sit back and let you talk to people like they’re beneath you.”

“I wasn’t!” she snapped, but then caught herself. Her next words came softer, more measured. “Maybe it came off wrong. I was just trying to make conversation, Nic. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

The air shifted, her tone almost pleading now. “I know I can be… abrasive sometimes. It’s just the pressure, you know? I want everything to be perfect for us, for the wedding, for your family. I’m trying, Nic. I really am.”

She reached across the table, and I could practically hear the sound of her hand resting on his. “I need you to believe that. To believe in us.”

My chest tightened, a familiar pang of jealousy mingling with anger as I listened to her carefully crafted words. She was diffusing the situation, steering it back under her control, and Nicholas was letting her.

“I don’t know if I believe it anymore,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm.

Her breath hitched audibly, and I could feel the weight of the silence that followed. Then, she let out a soft, shaky laugh. “You don’t mean that,” she said, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. “You’re tired, Nic. And overwhelmed. We both are.”

“I mean it,” Nicholas said, his tone unwavering. “I don’t want to keep pretending.”

Valerie didn’t respond immediately, and when she did, her voice was calm, almost too calm. “Do you really think now is the time to be having this conversation? With your family here? With everyone watching us?”

Nicholas let out a frustrated sigh, but she pressed on. “I get it, Nic. I do. But this isn’t just about us anymore. There’s the baby to think about. Our future.”

I heard Nicholas’s chair scrape against the floor as he stood, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on. His footsteps echoed as he walked away, and I barely had time to duck further into the hallway before he passed by. His expression was dark, his jaw tight, but he didn’t see me.

And he might’ve not seen me then, he sure as hell saw me whenever his eyes weren’t on Valerie.

Every stolen glance, every brush of his hand against mine when no one was looking, sent a jolt through me. He found excuses to slip away from the group, and I wasn’t far behind. It was reckless, dangerous, and impossible to resist.

The first rendezvous after our pool house tryst happened after the dinner incident. I was helping Maria set up the dessert table in the garden. Nicholas appeared out of nowhere, his presence like a storm cloud rolling in.

“(Y/N),” he said quietly, his tone a warning and a plea all at once. Maria glanced between us, her brows knitting in confusion before excusing herself with a polite nod. She left me alone with him, the space suddenly too small despite the open air.

“Yes, Nicholas? Do you need something?” I whispered, my voice sharp as I adjusted a platter of macarons, careful to meet his gaze even though I knew there was nobody around. Though, I was hyper aware of the windows of the house, especially the ones on the second floor, which basically had a front row and unobstructed view of the backyard as opposed to the first floor windows covered in bushes and climbing vines.

“You,” he replied simply, the weight of the word making my hands tremble. I felt him step closer, the heat of his body radiating against my back.

I stiffened, gripping the base of the macaron tower as my eyes flicked up to the second floor, my heart skipping a beat as I caught sight of a shadow passing by one of the second-floor windows. I turned my back to him, walking to the end of the table to fix the tablecloth, “Second floor, left corner window,” I whispered.

Nicholas stilled, his gaze snapping upward in the direction I indicated. He lingered just long enough to catch the subtle movement of the shadow, then turned his head slightly, pretending to admire the flowers lining the garden path.

“Were you always this observant?” he asked, his voice low and steady as he walked toward the far end of the table, keeping his posture casual but a smirk played on the corner of his mouth.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, my fingers adjusting the edges of a napkin as though I cared deeply about the table’s presentation. “I had to learn if I was gonna sneak around with you all those years ago,” I teased.

Nicholas chuckled softly, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry to the house. “You always were good at keeping me on my toes,” he murmured, his dark eyes catching mine briefly before flicking back to the shadow in the window. “But you’re even better now. More confident.”

I rolled my eyes, keeping my hands busy with a basket of utensils. “Confidence comes with age,” I replied lightly, though my heart raced under his gaze. “Unlike some people, I actually grew up.”

He grinned, a flash of white teeth against his sun-kissed skin. “In more ways than one.” His voice dropped to a whisper, full of teasing heat, as he leaned just close enough that only I could hear.

I nearly dropped the basket, my cheeks heating as I turned my back to him again, pretending to fix the tablecloth. “Oh, my god. You really just said that,” I muttered, though the faint smile tugging at my lips betrayed me.

Nicholas chuckled, the sound low and full of mischief, but I could feel the tension radiating off him as he glanced toward the window again. “I’m just being honest, baby,” he murmured, stepping closer but keeping his distance just enough to avoid suspicion. “Meet me in the pool house in ten minutes,” he whispered.

I hesitated, my pulse quickening at his words. I wanted to say no, to remind him of the risks, but the weight of his dark, steady gaze made it impossible to resist. Every nerve in my body hummed with the memory of his hands on me, his lips tracing lines of fire against my skin.

Without looking at him, I adjusted a fork in the basket, my voice barely a whisper. “You’re insane.”

“I’m desperate,” he countered, his voice low and rough. “Ten minutes.”

Before I could respond, he stepped away, his posture casual as he walked back toward the house. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked as if he’d merely stopped to check on the dessert setup. But the brush of his fingers against mine as he passed sent a jolt through me, a silent promise of what was to come.

I exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the table to steady myself. The faint movement in the second-floor window was gone, and I prayed whoever had been watching had lost interest. My heart raced as I glanced at the house, the hum of conversation and laughter drifting through the open doors.

Was this worth the risk? Of course it wasn’t. But that hadn’t stopped me before, especially not the other night. Though, to be fair, I was drunk. I’m not sure what excuse I could possibly have now.

After an excruciating ten minutes of debating whether to listen to Nicholas, I excused myself from Maria with a lame reason about needing to check on something. She barely glanced up from the desserts, too preoccupied with arranging the delicate tower of profiteroles to question me. I slipped further into the garden, navigating around the paths of perfectly trimmed bushes, my footsteps light against the stone path as I passed the pool and made my way to the pool house.

The pool house door creaked slightly as I pushed it open, my heart pounding in my chest. The space was dimly lit, the faint glow of indirect light filtering through the windows and casting long shadows across the room. I closed the door behind me, my breath hitching as I turned to find Nicholas already waiting.

He was leaning against the wall, his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, his tie loosened and the top buttons of his shirt undone. His dark eyes locked onto mine the moment I stepped inside, the tension between us crackling like a live wire.

“You’re late,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.

“You said ten minutes,” I replied, my tone sharper than I intended as I stepped closer. “I waited exactly that long.”

Nicholas pushed off the wall, closing the distance between us in two quick strides. He stopped just in front of me, his towering frame casting a shadow over mine as his dark eyes searched my face. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You told me once,” I shot back, my voice trembling slightly as I held his gaze.

He smirked, his hands reaching out to grip my hips and pull me closer. “I mean it,” he murmured, his breath warm against my cheek. “Every time I see you, every second I can’t touch you—it’s killing me.”

“Nic,” I started, but he cut me off, his lips crashing into mine with a desperation that made my knees weak. His hands slid up my sides, his fingers brushing against the bare skin beneath my blouse as he pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine.

I melted into him, my hands fisting in his shirt as his mouth claimed mine, hot and demanding. The taste of him, the feel of him, the sheer intensity of his presence — it was intoxicating. I hated how much I wanted him, how easily he could unravel me with just a look, a touch.

“This is insane,” I murmured against his lips, my voice trembling as he kissed his way down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“I don’t care,” Nicholas growled, his hands gripping my waist as he backed me toward the couch. “I need you.”

I gasped as the backs of my knees hit the edge of the couch, my body sinking into the cushions as he followed, his weight pressing me down. His lips found mine again, his hands working quickly to unbutton my blouse, his movements rough and desperate.

“We shouldn’t,” I whispered, even as my fingers moved to loosen his tie, my body arching into his.

“We won’t get caught,” he promised, his voice low and full of heat as he quickly ripped his shirt off and let it fall to the floor. His lips brushed against my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. “I’ll make it quick.”

I laughed softly, the sound breathless and tinged with disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You love it,” he shot back, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned down to kiss me again, his hands sliding beneath my skirt.

And God help me, he wasn’t wrong.

Other times, we wouldn’t have sex. Yes, we would sneak a kiss here and there, but we’d also find ourselves just enjoying the other’s company and getting to know each other again.

Late one afternoon, after most of the guests had gone off for a wine tasting tour, Nicholas and I found ourselves alone in the garden. It wasn’t planned — or at least, it wasn’t planned on my part. I’d been rearranging the floral arrangements along the fountain when his voice startled me.

���Still playing florist?” he teased, leaning against the wrought-iron gate with his hands in his pockets, the sunlight casting a golden glow on his sharp features. He was devastatingly casual, his shirt rolled up to his elbows and his dark eyes fixed on me like I was the only thing that mattered.

I straightened, forcing myself to meet his gaze, shrugging my shoulders. “You know how much I love details.”

He smirked, pushing off the gate and strolling toward me, his every movement fluid and purposeful. “That’s one of the things I always loved about you,” he said, his voice low but warm. “You notice the things most people overlook.”

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the arrangement in front of me. “Careful, Nicholas. Someone might think you’re flirting.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and familiar, sending a shiver down my spine. “Maybe I am,” he admitted, stopping a few feet away. He tilted his head, watching me carefully as I adjusted the flowers. “Why did you even come back to work here? Last I heard you were off working at some big office.”

I froze for a moment, my fingers hovering over the delicate white roses as his question hung in the air. Finally, I sighed, my shoulders dropping as I adjusted the petals of the centerpiece. “It was an unpaid internship, and it looked like it wasn’t going anywhere. So I thought about going back to school to get my master’s, but I can’t do that without a paying job, now can I?” I asked with a smile.

Nicholas nodded slowly, his gaze softening as he stepped closer, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Makes sense,” he murmured, his voice quiet. “But this place… doesn’t it feel like going backward? You always said you wanted to do bigger things.”

I shrugged, forcing a nonchalant smile as I busied myself with the flowers again. “One step forward, two steps back.”

Nicholas tilted his head, studying me with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “That doesn’t sound like you,” he said quietly. “You’re not the kind of person who settles for less than what you want.”

I laughed softly, though it lacked any real humor. “Sometimes life doesn’t give you much of a choice, Nic. You should know that by now,” I cocked an eyebrow, trying to insert a tinge of teasing behind my words to lighten the mood.

He frowned, stepping closer until he was standing beside me, his presence warm and overwhelming. “So what do you want, then?” he asked, his voice low and serious. “What would make you happy?”

I hesitated, my hands stilling over the arrangement. His question lingered in the air between us, heavier than the summer heat. I could feel his gaze on me, piercing and unrelenting, demanding an answer I wasn’t sure I could give.

What did I want? What would make me happy?

The truth was complicated, tangled in the years we’d spent apart, in the choices we’d both made, in the reality of who we were now. And yet, standing there with him so close, the answer felt heartbreakingly simple, but I couldn’t tell him the truth.

I turned to him slowly, meeting his dark, searching eyes. But then, I smiled slowly, “I’ll let you know.”

Nicholas threw his head back in defeat, a smile growing on his face. “You always were good at keeping me on edge,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

I shrugged, turning back to the flowers. “Keeps things interesting,” I replied, plucking a stray leaf from the arrangement and tucking it into my apron pocket. The sunlight filtered through the garden, casting dappled shadows on the path between us, but the air felt charged, humming with unspoken words.

Every touch, every stolen moment, every secret conversation felt like a rebellion against the world around us. It was wrong, so wrong, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop. Not when he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. Not when his touch set my skin on fire.

It became a pattern. Nicholas found me whenever he could — in the garden, in the hallway, even once in the pantry when I was restocking supplies. Each time, he kissed me like he was starving, his hands greedy and demanding as though he was trying to remember every inch of me. Or asking me about what I had been up to since I last saw him all those years ago, as if he wanted to get to know the girl that had escaped his grasp and make up for lost time.

And I let him.

I let him because I was angry.

Angry at Valerie for the way she treated everyone around her, for the way she manipulated Nicholas with her lies and her performance of the perfect fiancée. I told myself it was revenge, that every touch, every kiss, every stolen glance or word was a way of reclaiming some small part of my dignity, that she couldn’t scare me into submitting to her. Angry at the universe for ever separating Nicholas and I in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself — for still wanting him, for letting him back in so easily, for pretending I could walk away unscathed when I knew better.

Nicholas wasn’t just my past. He wasn’t just somebody I could brush off and forget. He was in my blood, in my bones, in every broken piece of me that still remembered how it felt to love him like I was still that wide-eyed 18-year-old. And no matter how much I tried to deny it, I wasn’t strong enough to resist him.

I hated the person I was becoming. I had never imagined being the other woman, never thought I could be someone who existed in the shadows, taking stolen moments and pretending they were enough. But I couldn’t stop. Not when Nicholas whispered my name. Not when he looked at me with that raw vulnerability that made my heart ache. Not when his touch felt like the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

I was in too deep, and there was no way out.

One day, I was in the kitchen, wiping down the counters as the smell of fresh coffee filled the air. My mom was nearby, chatting softly with Paolo about the menu for the day, and the house was just starting to stir with the faint sounds of life.

That’s when I heard it — a voice. Hers.

I paused mid-wipe, my ears pricking at the sound of Valerie’s voice drifting from the adjoining hallway. She was speaking low, but there was an urgency to her tone that made me still.

“—can’t keep pushing this off,” she hissed, her words clipped. “I told you I’d handle it. Just give me more time.”

I froze, my heart racing as I glanced toward the kitchen door. She was on the phone, and she wasn’t trying to be overheard, but her voice carried just enough that I could pick out the words.

“I know it’s risky,” she continued, her voice sharp. “But I don’t have another option right now. He’s suspicious as it is.”

Suspicious? My stomach twisted as I stepped closer to the door, careful not to make a sound. She was pacing, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she spoke.

“Because it’s not that simple!” she snapped, her voice rising slightly before she caught herself. “Do you think I want to be in this position? He’s expecting a baby, and I—” She broke off abruptly, her breath hitching audibly.

The blood drained from my face as her words settled over me. Oh my God.

“But I’m not pregnant,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, raw with frustration. “Not yet.”

I gripped the edge of the counter, my knuckles white as I tried to process what I’d just heard. Not pregnant. Not yet. She was lying to him — about everything.

My chest tightened, and I took a step back, the tile cool against my bare feet as I tried to catch my breath. The image of her drinking the mimosa, the wine, her tendency to wear very loose clothes to hide a belly that wasn’t really growing flashed through my mind, and suddenly, it all made sense. The evasiveness, the secrecy, the drinking — it was all a façade.

Before I could think better of it, I stepped into the hallway, my voice trembling but firm. “You’re not pregnant?”

Valerie spun around, her eyes wide with shock and then narrowing into something colder. She ended the call with a sharp tap on her phone, slipping it into her pocket as she straightened her posture. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone icy.

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” I asked, my voice steadier.

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a tight, forced smile. “That’s none of your concern.”

“It is my concern,” I shot back, anger bubbling to the surface. “You’ve been lying to Nicholas, to everybody. And last week—” I took a step closer, my voice rising. “Oh, my god; it makes so much fucking sense.”

Her expression faltered for a fraction of a second before she composed herself, stepping toward me with calculated grace. “Listen carefully,” she said, her voice low and venomous. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut.”

I stared at her, my hands trembling at my sides. I wasn’t sure if it was because of anger or fear. “Why are you lying to him?”

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might answer. But then her lips curled into a smirk, and she leaned in closer, her voice dripping with condescension. “If you think for one second that I’ll let a housemaid ruin everything I’ve worked for, you’re even dumber than you look.”

My heart pounded, but I held my ground. “Is that what this is about? Baby trapping Nicholas so he can marry you?”

Valerie let out a low, humorless laugh, her eyes gleaming with something darker as she stepped even closer, her perfume sharp and overwhelming. “I prefer to think of it as securing my future. Nicholas is my future.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms as I stared at her, my chest heaving. “He’s not your future if it’s built on lies. You’re playing with people’s lives — his, his family’s, your own. Do you even care about him?”

Her smile faltered, and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something real — fear, maybe, or guilt — but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same steely confidence. “Of course, I care,” she said smoothly, crossing her arms. “But love doesn’t pay the bills.”

Her words were like a slap, the cruelty of them making my stomach turn. “You don’t deserve him,” I said, my voice low but firm. 

She laughed, studying me like I was some curious little animal she could squash under her heel. “And you do?” she asked, her tone sharp and cutting. “Let me save you the trouble, (Y/N) — If you so much as hint at what you think you know, I will make sure you and your mother are out of this house. You’ll lose everything. You want that master’s degree, don’t you? You want your mom to have job security?”

Her words hit me like a slap. She was threatening me, my family. I gulped at her threat. Knowing her, it wasn’t idle. I mean, look at everything she’s done so far to keep up her lie.

She straightened her posture, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her dress. “This conversation is over,” she said coolly. “And if you’re smart, you’ll stay away from Nicholas.”

I stared at her, my heart pounding in my chest as a wave of helplessness washed over me. She was lying to him, manipulating him, and there was nothing I could do to stop her — not without risking my future, my mom’s job security.

I stayed rooted to the spot as she walked away, her heels clicking behind her. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty hallway where Valerie had disappeared. My chest was tight, anger and helplessness swirling together into a storm I couldn’t contain. Every instinct screamed at me to run to Nicholas, to tell him everything I’d just heard. But her words echoed in my head like a taunt.

You’ll lose everything.

I couldn’t let that happen. Not to my mom. Not after everything she’d done for me, after all the sacrifices she’d made to give me the chance to build a better life, not when she fought for me to have this job again after I quit my internship. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I forced myself to turn back toward the kitchen.

The moment I stepped through the door, my mom’s gaze snapped to me, her brow furrowing in concern. Paolo, who was busy chopping vegetables, paused mid-motion and glanced up, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took me in.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” my mom said, setting down the dish towel she’d been holding. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, too quickly, the words tumbling out before I could think them through. I busied myself with grabbing a clean dish from the drying rack, avoiding their gazes. “Just needed some air.”

Paolo’s lips pressed into a thin line, his sharp intuition cutting through my flimsy excuse. “You’re pale,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Did something happen?”

“No,” I lied, forcing myself to smile as I turned to face them. “I just needed a break. That’s all.”

My mom didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press the issue. “Well, sit down if you need to,” she said, her tone softening. “You’ve been working so hard lately.”

I nodded, grateful for the out, and sank into one of the kitchen chairs. My hands trembled slightly as I folded them in my lap, but I clenched them into fists, willing the shaking to stop.

Paolo, however, wasn’t so easily swayed. He leaned against the counter, his sharp gaze fixed on me. “You know,” he said, his tone casual but pointed, “sometimes the truth has a way of coming out, always.”

My stomach twisted, but I kept my expression neutral. “What are you talking about?”

Paolo shrugged, turning back to his cutting board with a nonchalant air. “Just saying.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Did he know something about what happened just now? About what’s been happening between me and Nicholas? Or was he just trying to get me to open up? Either way, I couldn’t risk saying anything — not here, not now, not when my family was in jeopardy.

For the next few days, I kept my head down, doing everything I could to stay out of both Nicholas’s and Valerie’s paths. It wasn’t easy. Nicholas was everywhere—lingering in the garden, passing through the kitchen, even showing up at the greenhouse where I sometimes retreated to arrange flowers. He always seemed to find me, his dark eyes filled with questions I wasn’t ready to answer.

But I avoided him. I avoided everyone.

My mom noticed, of course. She wasn’t the type to pry, but I could feel her watching me, her brow furrowed in quiet concern. Paolo, on the other hand, wasn’t so subtle. He made little comments, dropped hints about secrets and truth, his sharp eyes cutting through every flimsy excuse I gave him.

And then there was Valerie.

She was everywhere, too, but for a different reason. It was like she could sense my hesitation, my fear, and she reveled in it. She was sharper than usual, her barbs aimed with precision at anyone who dared to cross her path. She was always smiling, but it never reached her eyes. When our gazes met across a room, her lips would curl into a smirk that made my stomach twist.

She knew she had me cornered, and she wanted me to remember it.

But the most unnerving thing was the shift between her and Nicholas. He was colder, distant. I noticed the way his jaw tightened when she touched his arm, the way he didn’t lean into her kisses anymore. He didn’t even pretend to laugh at her jokes. It was subtle, but it was there. A tension that simmered just beneath the surface. And then, one evening, it all came to a head.

I was in the library, organizing the collection of vintage books that hadn’t been touched in years. The smell of leather and paper filled the air, the soft light from the desk lamp casting a warm glow over the room. I liked it there. It was quiet, out of the way — a place where I could breathe without feeling like the walls were closing in. But my peace didn’t last long.

The door opened behind me, the sound of footsteps echoing against the hardwood floor. I froze, my hands stilling over the spine of an old copy of Pride and Prejudice. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. His presence filled the room like a storm cloud, heavy and unrelenting.

“(Y/N).”

His voice was low, rough, and it sent a shiver down my spine. I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my hands steady as I slid the book back into place. “Yes?” I asked, my voice soft as I turned around to face him.

Nicholas glanced over his shoulder and locked the door before crossing the room toward me in a quick few strides.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, though my heart pounded against my ribs.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, Nicholas closed the distance between us until he stood just a foot away. His dark eyes burned with intensity, and the tension rolling off him was palpable. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said finally, his voice low but firm. 

I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the bookshelf behind me as though it could anchor me. “I haven’t been avoiding you,” I lied, my voice trembling slightly. “I’ve just been… busy.”

“Don’t bullshit me, (Y/N),” he snapped, his tone cutting through the quiet like a knife. “You won’t look at me, you barely say a word when we’re in the same room, and now you’re hiding out in the library. What the hell is going on?”

My chest tightened, and I glanced away, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s nothing,” I said weakly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Nicholas reached out, his fingers brushing my chin as he tilted my face up, forcing me to look at him. “Talk to me, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less intense. He leaned in then, peppering my face in soft, tentative kisses, maybe hoping that his kisses might reassure me that I could talk to him, but I couldn’t.

I jerked back slightly, shaking my head as my heart raced. “Nic, stop,” I said, my voice breaking.

His brow furrowed, and the confusion in his dark eyes made my chest ache. I hesitated, my heart racing as I searched his face. He was everything I shouldn’t want, everything I should have let go of years ago. But the truth was, I didn’t want to let go. Our past few trysts were everything I wanted. But then, the image of Valerie flashed inside my mind. Her threats. That evil smile she only reserved for me.

I closed my eyes. “I need you to go back out there,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Nicholas froze, his breath catching as he stared at me, his dark eyes searching mine like he was trying to make sense of my words. His hands were still on my face, his body pressed so close I could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

“What?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “You need to go back out there, Nic,” I said again, my voice trembling but resolute. “We can’t do this anymore,” I whispered as my gaze fell to the floor.

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he was going to argue, to push back the way he always did when he didn’t get what he wanted. But then his shoulders sagged, and the fight seemed to drain out of him.

“Why?” he asked, his voice cracking. “Why the fuck are you pushing me away?”

I took a shaky breath, every nerve in my body screaming at me to say the truth, to tell him everything. But I couldn’t. The weight of Valerie’s threat loomed over me, heavy and suffocating. My mom’s face flashed in my mind, the way she’d look if she lost everything because of me. I couldn’t risk it.

“You have a fiancée,” I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt. “That’s why—“

Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes blazing with frustration. “Don’t give me that. You know how I feel about you, (Y/N). I know how you feel about me, baby. What happened? What changed?”

“What we do… it’s not right,” I said, my hands trembling. “You’re supposed to be marrying—”

“She’s lying to me,” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Fuck, I know she is. I don’t know about what or why, but I know she is.”

I froze, my breath catching as his words sank in. His dark eyes bored into mine, searching for answers I couldn’t give him. Of course, he caught my change in demeanor, he always did.

“Is that what this is about? (Y/N), do you know something? Did she say anything to you?” he asked, his voice softer now but no less intense.

I hesitated, my heart pounding as I weighed my options. I wanted to tell him the truth, to expose Valerie for the liar she was. But her threat hung over me like a guillotine, the weight of what I — my mom — stood to lose pressing down on my chest.

“No,” I whispered finally, my voice breaking.

Nicholas’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he stepped back slightly, studying me with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. “Don’t lie to me, (Y/N),” he said, his voice low and sharp. “You’re not this good at hiding things — not from me.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, as if that could shield me from the intensity of his gaze. “I’m not lying,” I said quietly, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and for a moment, he just stared at me, his dark eyes burning with unspoken words. Then he let out a sharp exhale, raking a hand through his hair. “She’s gotten to you, hasn’t she?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with a mix of anger and pain. “What did she say?”

“She didn’t say anything,” I insisted. “I just… I can’t do this anymore, Nic.”

Nicholas froze, his chest rising and falling as he tried to rein in his frustration. He stepped back, running a hand down his face before letting it fall to his side. “You never give up easily, (Y/N). You promised me you wouldn’t give up on us. Why are you doing this?”

I stared at him, my heart breaking under the weight of his plea. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk everything for a truth that might not even set us free.

“Please, Nic,” I said, my voice trembling. “Just let it go, okay?”

Nicholas stared at me, his jaw tight, his eyes filled with a mix of hurt and frustration. For a moment, I thought he was going to argue, to push me for answers. But then he exhaled sharply, stepping back. His gaze lingered, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name, and for a moment, I saw the boy I used to know — the one who used to climb through my bedroom window or sneak me into his house and make me laugh until I couldn’t breathe, the one who made me believe in love, even when it hurt.

“Fine,” he said, his voice clipped. “If that’s how you want it.”

He turned and left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence that followed was deafening, and I sank into the nearest chair, my head in my hands as the tears finally spilled over.

I had done the right thing. The only thing I could do. But it didn’t feel right. It felt like I’d just lost him all over again.

I stayed there in the silence of the library for what felt like hours, staring blankly at the rows of untouched books. My tears had dried, leaving my cheeks stiff and my eyes sore, but the ache in my chest refused to let up. I had pushed him away, again, but this time it felt irreversible.

Eventually, the muffled hum of voices from the main living areas reminded me that I didn’t have the luxury of hiding forever. I forced myself to stand, smoothing down my skirt and wiping my face as I stepped back into the hallway.

As I made my way toward the living room, my heart sank at the sound of familiar voices drifting toward me. Mrs. Chavez, with her warm, commanding tone, was deep in conversation with an event planner’s crisp voice, discussing fabrics and color schemes. I considered turning around, but it was too late. They were right in my path.

When I entered, Mrs. Chavez glanced up first, her smile jovial, “Oh, (Y/N)! Come look at the concepts for the gender reveal party I’m throwing for Nicholas and Valerie,” she excitedly waved me over.

I hesitated for a moment, the words “gender reveal party” hanging heavy in the air. My feet felt like lead as I moved toward the table where Mrs. Chavez and the planner were seated. She gestured to the seat beside her, her smile warm and inviting, but I could feel my pulse quickening.

“It’s going to be beautiful,” Mrs. Chavez said, her voice brimming with excitement as she tapped on a sketch of a grand garden setup. “I’ve already ordered the custom cake, and the florist is bringing in peonies next week.”

I nodded, my throat tight as I sat down. The sketches in front of me blurred together, my mind racing with the memory of Valerie’s words: “I’m not pregnant. Not yet.”

Mrs. Chavez studied me for a moment, her eyes softening. “You’re usually so excited about parties,” she said gently, tilting her head. “Is everything okay?”

Just then, the planner stepped away, sensing the shift in the room. I forced a smile, nodding quickly. “I’m fine.”

She reached out, resting a hand on mine. “You’ve been working so hard. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you do.”

Her kindness was almost unbearable, the weight of her words pressing down on me like a stone. I swallowed hard, nodding again as I focused on the sketches in front of me.

“You know,” Mrs. Chavez began, her tone thoughtful, “I’ve always admired your strength, (Y/N). Even when you were a teenager, you had this quiet determination about you. It’s one of the reasons I was so happy to have you back here.”

I glanced up at her, surprised by the shift in her tone. Her gaze was warm but piercing, as though she could see right through me.

“I used to think…” She trailed off, her smile faint but knowing. “Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t have been surprised if I might’ve been planning all of this for you in some other lifetime.”

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, the weight of her insinuation crashing over me. My stomach twisted as I struggled to keep my composure, my fingers gripping the edge of the table.

Mrs. Chavez’s smile remained gentle, her tone casual, but her eyes never left mine. “You and Nicholas were always so close back then,” she continued, her voice light but deliberate.

My breath hitched, but I quickly masked it with a laugh that sounded too forced, even to my own ears. “Nicholas was—he’s always been kind to everyone,” I said, my voice shaking slightly.

She hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair as if considering my words. “Kind, yes,” she agreed. “But with you, it was different. I thought it was sweet.”

I felt my heart hammering in my chest, my hands trembling as I tried to focus on the sketches in front of me. “That was a long time ago,” I said quietly, avoiding her gaze.

She reached for her teacup, her movements graceful as ever. “You know, (Y/N), it’s okay to hold onto feelings from the past. Sometimes, they never really leave us.”

My head snapped up at her words, my eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, I saw something in her expression — a flicker of understanding.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said quickly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

She smiled knowingly. “You’re a terrible liar. You always were.” Her tone was gentle, but the weight of her words made it impossible to breathe.

“Mrs. Chavez,” I started, my voice trembling. “I—”

She held up a hand, silencing me with a look that was both kind and firm. “Listen to me, (Y/N),” she said, her voice softening. “Whatever is happening now — whatever has happened before — I want you to know that you are important to this family.”

Her words were like a lifeline I didn’t know I needed, but they also left me feeling exposed, as though she could see every tangled thread of my life unraveling. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, and nodded, though I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Chavez leaned forward slightly, her hands folded neatly on the table as she studied me with an intensity that was both comforting and unnerving. “You’re a good person, (Y/N),” she said softly.

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, the truth in them cutting through my carefully constructed walls. I wanted to tell her everything — about Valerie’s lies, her threats, and the unbearable weight of keeping it all inside. But the fear of what I stood to lose kept me silent.

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, my voice trembling as I glanced down at the sketches, unable to look her in the eye.

She reached out, her fingers brushing against mine in a gesture of quiet support. “You don’t have to say anything,” she said gently.

The sincerity in her voice made my chest ache, and for the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope — a small, fragile light breaking through the darkness. I nodded again, unable to trust my voice as a lump formed in my throat.

Mrs. Chavez smiled, her expression warm and understanding. “Now,” she said, her tone shifting back to its usual brightness, “how about you go and take a breather, hm? I’m gonna need you and your mom’s opinions on balloons later.”

I nodded, managing a small smile despite the turmoil swirling inside me. “Of course, Mrs. Chavez. Thank you.”

Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, and I could see the unspoken concern in her gaze. But she didn’t press. Instead, she reached for another sketch, her attention shifting back to the plans in front of her as she called the event planner back inside.

I stood, my legs feeling shaky as I pushed the chair back and stepped away from the table. The walls of the estate suddenly felt too close, the air too thick. I needed to get outside, to breathe, to clear my head.

The garden was quiet when I stepped outside, the hum of activity inside the house fading into the background. I walked aimlessly, my fingers brushing against the hedges as I tried to make sense of the chaos inside me. Mrs. Chavez’s words played on a loop in my mind, her knowing tone, her gentle reassurance.

She knew. Maybe not everything, but enough to suspect something wasn’t right. And yet, instead of judgment, she’d offered me compassion, a lifeline I hadn’t expected.

I stopped by the fountain, the sound of trickling water soothing the storm in my chest. My reflection in the rippling surface looked foreign, my face pale and my eyes clouded with uncertainty. I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over.

“Pull it together,” I whispered to myself.

But as much as I tried to convince myself, the weight of the secrets I was carrying felt unbearable. Every moment I stayed silent, I felt like I was betraying not just Nicholas, but also Mrs. Chavez, my mom, and even myself.

I didn’t know how long I stood there, lost in my thoughts, when a voice broke through the silence.

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

I turned sharply, my stomach dropping to my feet. Valerie stood there with her arms crossed, a smirk curling her lips. Her eyes gleamed with a cold satisfaction, as if she’d caught me doing something I shouldn’t.

I threw my head back and looked up at the sky, as if I was pleading the universe for mercy. How many heavy conversations could I have in one day? “What do you want, Valerie?” I asked, my voice sharp.

Valerie let out a soft, mocking laugh, as if she found my frustration amusing. “Relax, (Y/N). I just wanted to remind you how you’ve been doing a pretty good job staying out of my way so far. I’d hate to see you ruin that.”

I took a deep sigh, my shoulders slumping, “Look, I’m not in the mood right now. I get it, okay? I’ll stay out of your way.”

Valerie tilted her head, her smirk widening as if she found my resignation amusing. “Good,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension.

My jaw clenched, anger bubbling beneath the surface, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral. “Is that all?” I asked, my voice flat.

She pursed her lips in triumph. “For now,” she said before turning on her heel and walking back into the house.

I watched her retreating figure until she disappeared through the tall French doors. My chest felt tight, like a rubber band stretched to its limit, ready to snap. My fists clenched involuntarily at my sides as the rage simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take. Every word she spoke was another brick added to the wall I was building around myself, trapping me in a web of lies and threats. And yet, I couldn’t seem to find a way out without everything crumbling around me.

The days leading up to the gender reveal party weren’t any easier. Tension hung thick in the air, palpable enough to choke on. There were a few bumps in the party planning, so Mrs. Chavez was frazzled about the details, having to find a different florist and needing Paolo to take over for the catering company that dropped out of the event at the last possible moment.

I was avoiding Nicholas like the plague, or maybe he was avoiding me, too. I hadn’t really talked to him since our conversation in the library, and if I did, it was polite and professional. Though, I could sense the hurt in his eyes every time I did. Valerie, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on the chaos. She floated through the house with an air of smug confidence, her voice carrying easily as she commanded staff and fussed over every detail of the party.

By the time the day of the party finally arrived, I was on full-on autopilot mode. My nerves were already frayed from days of walking on eggshells and dodging both Nicholas and Valerie, but I didn’t want what had happened to affect my performance at work. So, I plastered on the most polite smile I could muster and got to helping set up for the party.

It was an hour before the allotted time on the invitation. The backyard was a flurry of activity as staff hurried to have everything ready before the first guests could arrive. Paolo and his team of hired underlings were all rushing to get the last of the desserts ready on time. Maria and I were in charge of helping set up all of the tables while the rest of the sub-contracted decorators were being overseen by my mom and the event planner Mrs. Chavez had hired.

So far, the backyard looked just about done. The extravagant pink and blue balloon archways and garland adorned every entryway and path leading guests toward the heart of the event. The main attraction was the centerpiece fountain, transformed into a cascading display of pink and blue hydrangeas, their soft petals spilling into the water like a fairytale come to life.

Strings of fairy lights were woven through the garden’s trellises and wrapped around the ancient oaks, casting a warm, inviting glow as the sun began its slow descent. At the far end of the garden, a dessert table was the picture of decadence. Towering macaron pyramids in alternating hues of pink and blue flanked a massive tiered cake, the top tier covered in edible glitter and crowned with a gold question mark. Miniature cupcakes, chocolate-covered strawberries, and bite-sized éclairs filled the table, their intricate designs reflecting the party’s color scheme.

The smell of fresh blooms mixed with the tantalizing aroma of Paolo’s creations wafting from the catering station. His team was arranging trays of hors d’oeuvres on a smaller table nearby, each bite-sized piece meticulously plated with edible flowers and tiny garnishes.

Around the fountain, small tables were arranged in concentric circles, draped in crisp white linens with golden accents. Each table was adorned with glass vases holding sprays of baby’s breath and roses dyed in pastel shades of pink and blue. The soft notes of instrumental music drifted from hidden speakers, adding to the serene yet celebratory atmosphere.

Maria and I worked silently as we adjusted chairs and made last-minute tweaks to the arrangements, our movements quick and efficient. I paused to straighten the centerpiece on a table closest to the fountain, my fingers brushing against the delicate petals of a pink peony. Despite the beauty surrounding me, the tight knot in my chest refused to loosen. The party was perfect. The party was nothing more than a celebration of a lie.

Across the garden, I caught a glimpse of Nicholas speaking with his mother near the dessert table. He was dressed impeccably, his dark suit tailored to perfection, but his posture was tense, his hands stuffed into his pockets as Mrs. Chavez gestured animatedly. He nodded occasionally, his gaze flickering over the setup before landing on me.

Our eyes met for a fleeting moment as I walked past to make my way toward the kitchen and check on Paolo, and I quickly looked away focusing on my strides, but Mrs. Chavez called out to me. “(Y/N)!”

Nicholas’s gaze awkwardly shifted away as I made my way over to them.

“(Y/N), can you check on the pedestals near the canopy and make sure none of them are easy to knock over?” She asked with a smile. I was about to nod my head and turn to do what she said but she stopped me, “Wait.” She turned her attention to Nicholas, “Sweetie, is Valerie almost back from her nail appointment? Did you ever get that ultrasound from her so we can put it up on the slideshow?”

Nicholas pulled out his phone from his pocket, “She should be on her way. Valerie said she’d call her doctor before she left, but I can call and ask if they sent it over to her. I think I have the doctor’s name somewhere,” he said as he scrolled away on his phone, tapping something, and bringing the phone up to his ear before making his way back inside the house.

Mrs. Chavez turned back to me, “Check the pedestals please.”

I nodded quickly and hurried away, relieved to have a reason to distance myself from Nicholas. As I walked toward the canopy, the tension in my chest only grew tighter. My hands were trembling as I reached the first pedestal, giving it a slight nudge to ensure it was steady. I did the same for the next. The next. And the next.

Some minutes later, Maria joined me, a smile on her face. “The decorations are so pretty, aren’t they?”

I let out a breathy laugh, “I’m more focused on making sure Paolo saves us some leftovers to take home.”

She laughed heartily. “You know he will. These people always prefer the drinks to the food.” Maria’s laughter was a small reprieve, her warm energy cutting through the tension that had been suffocating me all day.

I nodded, trying to match her lightness, even as the weight of everything threatened to pull me under. “Good,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m staking my claim on those macarons.”

“Smart,” Maria teased. “But don’t let Paolo catch you sneaking them early. He’s in full perfectionist mode right now.”

I chuckled softly, grateful for the distraction as we continued adjusting the pedestals. For a moment, it felt almost normal — like we were just two coworkers prepping for another lavish party. But then, the distant sound of a raised voice shattered the illusion.

“…in the actual fuck are you talking about?!”

My heart stopped. Nicholas’s voice, sharp and unmistakable, carried across the garden. I exchanged a worried glance with Maria, who had frozen mid-reach toward a floral arrangement. We both turned around and saw Nicholas stomping out into the backyard with Valerie following closely behind, her white dress flapping in the air.

Nicholas’s expression was thunderous, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked as if he might crack a tooth. “Valerie, stop lying to me!” he shouted, his voice booming over the chatter of the staff setting up.

Heads turned, tools paused mid-air, and the garden fell eerily silent except for the sharp clip of Valerie’s heels as she tried to keep up with him and the sound of the soft instrumental music, which was quickly deafened by somebody pausing the music from the DJ booth.

“Nicholas, please!” she called after him, her voice desperate but still laced with that performative sweetness that grated on my nerves. “Can we talk about this inside?”

“No, we’re talking about it now,” he snapped, spinning around to face her. His dark eyes burned with anger as he gestured around the lavish setup. “You expect me to stand here and smile for a fucking gender reveal when you’re not even fucking pregnant? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

Gasps rippled through the staff, whispers breaking out like wildfire. I felt my stomach drop as Valerie froze, her face draining of color before twisting into something uglier — rage and fear warring beneath her perfect façade.

“Nicholas,” she hissed, her tone sharp and low as her eyes darted around at the onlookers. “You’re making a scene.”

“I’m the one making a scene?” Nicholas shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Valerie straightened her posture, her mask slipping back into place as she tried to regain control. “Where’s this even coming from, Nic?”

Nicholas let out a sharp laugh, the sound devoid of humor. “I called your OB/GYN to ask about the ultrasound. They didn’t even know who the fuck I was talking about!” His voice cracked on the last word, the raw betrayal evident in his tone.

Valerie’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she quickly composed herself, adopting an air of indignant disbelief. “You must’ve called the wrong office or—“

“Cut the bullshit, Valerie!” Nicholas roared, his voice booming and echoing off the garden walls. His fists clenched at his sides as he took a step closer, his dark eyes blazing. “You’re not fucking pregnant. You let my family do all of this shit for you over a fucking lie!”

The staff froze, their eyes darting between Nicholas and Valerie, the tension so thick it was suffocating. Maria tugged lightly on my arm, silently urging me to step back, but I was rooted to the spot, my pulse thundering in my ears.

Valerie faltered, her perfect composure slipping as her gaze flickered toward the staring crowd. Then, like a cornered animal, she turned the blame outward. “You want to talk about lies?” she spat, her voice trembling as she pointed an accusatory finger in my direction. “Ask her!”

I froze, my breath catching as every eye turned toward me. Nicholas’s gaze snapped to mine, his expression a storm of anger and confusion.

“What the fuck is she talking about?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

“I—” My throat tightened, my words choking on the sheer weight of the moment.

Valerie pressed on, sensing her opportunity. “(Y/N) knew and didn’t say anything,” she continued, her voice gaining strength. Valerie sneered, turning her venomous glare toward me. “She’s known for days, Nicholas. Ask her why she kept her mouth shut.”

Nicholas’s gaze burned into me, a mix of anger and betrayal flashing in his dark eyes. “(Y/N), tell me what she’s talking about.” His voice was tight, barely controlled, but his tone cut through me like a knife.

The air around me felt suffocating, my chest tightening as Nicholas’s eyes bore into mine. Everyone was watching — Maria, the staff, even Paolo who had stepped out of the kitchen with a tray of hors d’oeuvres, his sharp gaze fixed on the unfolding chaos. I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat. From behind Nicholas and Valerie, I could see my mom and Mrs. Chavez embracing each other and clutching at their necklaces as they watched everything unfold.

“She threatened me,” I finally choked out, my voice trembling but clear enough to cut through the silence. “She said she’d have my mom and I fired if I said anything… if I stayed near you.”

Nicholas’s expression shifted instantly, his jaw tightening as a muscle in his cheek twitched. He turned his fiery gaze back to Valerie, his voice low and seething. “You threatened her?”

Valerie flinched but quickly recovered, shaking her head as her voice took on a pleading tone. “Nic, listen—”

“No! Don’t ‘Nic’ me,” he growled, stepping closer to her. “You lied about a pregnancy, manipulated my family, and now you’re fucking threatening (Y/N) to keep your dirty little secret? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tears welled in Valerie’s eyes as she glanced around, her gaze darting to the stunned faces of the staff. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was scared, okay? You were going to break up with me, and I—I didn’t know what else to do.”

Nicholas laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. “So your solution was to fake a fucking baby? To trap me?”

Valerie clenched her fists at her sides, her perfect composure cracking under the weight of his rage. “You were going to leave me!” she shouted, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I could feel it. You were slipping away, and I—” She faltered, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “I love you, Nicholas.”

“Well, I never fucking loved you!” Nicholas spat, his voice like a whip.

The words hung in the air like a bomb, silencing even the faint whispers of the staff. Everyone froze, the weight of Nicholas’s confession crashing down like thunder. Valerie staggered back a step as if he’d physically struck her, her face pale and tear-streaked.

“What?” she whispered, her voice trembling, her bravado crumbling into raw, exposed pain.

Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes cold and unyielding as he took a deliberate step toward her. “You heard me,” he said, his tone low and cutting. “I. Never. Loved. You. This—” he gestured between them with an almost violent motion—“was over a long fucking time ago.”

Valerie let out a choked sob, her carefully crafted image shattering in real-time. She reached for him, desperation etched across her face. “I—I just wanted to keep you, Nic. You don’t understand. I owe money. I—”

“I don’t give a shit about your excuses,” Nicholas snapped, stepping back out of her reach. “You don’t get to manipulate me or the people I care about. That's disgusting.”

Her face twisted with anger, the tears on her cheeks glistening in the sunlight. “And what about you, huh? Don’t think I didn’t know what was happening,” she spat, spinning around and pointing at me again. “You don’t think it’s disgusting that you were fucking the maid while you still thought I was pregnant?”

Nicholas froze, his body going rigid as the words left Valerie’s mouth. The crowd of staff that had gathered to watch the spectacle collectively held their breath, the air crackling with tension. My heart plummeted, the blood draining from my face as every set of eyes turned to me once more.

Just then, I felt Maria’s hand wrap around mine. Her grip was the only thing tethering me to reality, her presence a small but steady reminder that I wasn’t completely alone in this humiliating nightmare. My throat was dry, my chest tight as I fought to find the words — any words — that could possibly defuse the bomb Valerie had just dropped.

Nicholas’s gaze snapped to her, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. “What the fuck did you just say?” His voice was low and dangerous, the kind that made even the boldest person think twice.

“You heard me,” Valerie spat, her lips curling into a venomous smile despite the tears streaking her face. “You think you’re so fucking righteous, Nic, but you’re just as bad as I am. Fucking the help while I was here, pretending to build a life with you?”

Nicholas took a slow step toward her, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His entire body radiated fury, the kind that felt like it might explode at any second. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about her like that,” he said, his voice a deadly calm that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Oh, please,” Valerie sneered, taking a step back but refusing to back down completely. “She knew exactly what she was doing.”

“That’s enough,” Nicholas growled, his voice rising as his self-control started to slip. “You’re not fucking dragging her into this because you can’t handle the fact that you’re a manipulative, lying piece of shit.”

Valerie laughed bitterly, her mascara smudging as the tears continued to flow. “Oh, so now you’re defending her? After everything? God, you’re fucking unbelievable.”

Nicholas closed the gap between them, his face inches from hers. “You’re done,” he said coldly. “Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house.”

Valerie’s face twisted in rage, her tear-streaked cheeks flushed with anger. “You don’t get to just kick me out like that!” she shouted, her voice cracking. “I’ve been here for you through everything, Nicholas! Your career, your fucking family drama—”

Nicholas’s laugh was cold, sharp as a blade. “Spare me the goddamn speech. You didn’t give a fuck about me. Now, get the fuck out before I call the police.”

Valerie blinked, her bravado faltering for the first time. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You wouldn’t—“

“Try me,” Nicholas interrupted, his voice low and lethal. His dark eyes were unyielding, daring her to push him further. 

The silence that followed was deafening. Even the sound of the breeze rustling through the garden seemed to fade as everyone watched the scene unfold. Valerie stood frozen, her hands trembling as they instinctively moved toward the massive diamond ring on her finger.

Her face crumpled, a sob escaping her lips as she fumbled to pull the ring from her finger. It slipped off easily, catching the evening sunlight as she held it out to him with trembling hands.

Nicholas didn’t even glance at it. “Keep it. Pawn it. I don’t give a shit. Just get the fuck out.”

Her hand dropped to her side, the ring clenched tightly in her fist as tears streamed down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Finally, with a trembling breath, she turned and stalked toward the house, her heels clicking against the stone path like gunshots in the heavy silence.

Nicholas watched her retreating figure, his chest heaving as he tried to rein in his emotions. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, his fists still clenched at his sides. When she disappeared through the doors, he turned, his dark eyes immediately finding mine.

My stomach twisted as his gaze bore into me, an unspoken storm of emotions swirling in his expression—anger, frustration, hurt. He took a step toward me, and I instinctively stepped back, my breath hitching. Maria quickly squeezed my hand then before leaving my side and joining Paolo outside the kitchen door.

“Nicholas, I—”

“Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice cutting through the thick air like a knife. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a bitter laugh as he paced a few steps away before turning back to face me. “I asked you point-blank if you knew anything. You fucking knew this whole time, and you didn’t tell me.”

My breath hitched as I met his gaze, the weight of his anger like a physical blow. “I—I wanted to,” I stammered, my voice shaking. “But she—“

“Threatened you,” he finished, his voice dripping with disdain. “I heard that the first time. But so what? That was enough to stop you? After everything we’ve been through, (Y/N), you didn’t think you could trust me enough to tell me the fucking truth?”

His words hit me like a slap, and I felt my eyes sting with tears. “It wasn’t just about me,” I said, my voice breaking. “She threatened my mom, Nic. Her job — everything.”

Nicholas’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, his hands on his hips as he took a deep, shaky breath. “You should’ve come to me,” he said finally, his voice quieter but no less strained. “I could’ve protected you.”

“I didn’t want to put you in that position,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “And I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“Worse?” Nicholas turned back to me, his dark eyes filled with raw frustration. “How the fuck could it have been worse than this?” (Y/N), I could’ve handled this days ago if you’d just told me!

My chest ached, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe under the weight of his words. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as if the fight had drained out of him. “I can’t do this right now,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. 

The staff remained frozen, their eyes wide as they processed what had just unfolded. Nicholas looked around, his chests heaving. “Everybody, go inside please,” he closed his eyes and lazily waved his hand at his side.

Maria, standing near the kitchen door, nodded sharply and began ushering the others inside, herding them like sheep. Paolo shot me a look—concern and something else, maybe pity—before clearing his throat sharply. “You heard him. Let’s move,” he barked, his voice brisk but professional, cutting through the tension like a knife. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse, their footsteps echoing against the stone paths as they filed back into the house.

Nicholas’s gaze stayed locked on me. His gaze was cold, unrelenting, and it made my chest ache in a way I wasn’t prepared for. The last time I’d seen that same look in his eyes, the same mixture of pain and anger, was on the night he left for Los Angeles, when we had argued in this very spot.

The garden was bathed in the warm glow of golden hour, the sunlight filtering through the treetops in soft beams. It was the same garden where Nicholas and I had shared stolen moments, whispered dreams, and a hundred quiet kisses. But it felt different. The world felt too still, too calm, considering the storm brewing between us. I could hear the distant hum of crickets, the rustling of leaves in the breeze, but it all felt muted—like my senses were dulled by the ache in my chest as I stared at him.

Nic stood in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture tense. His jaw was tight, his dark eyes unreadable, and for the first time since I’d known him, he felt like a stranger.

“So, that’s it?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “You’re just… ending things?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging slightly. “(Y/N), this isn’t easy for me. You think I want to do this?”

“Then don’t!” I snapped, the words bursting out of me before I could stop them. “If it’s so hard, then don’t fucking do it, Nic! We can make this work.”

His gaze softened for a moment, but then he shook his head, his expression hardening again. “I can’t. I’ve thought about this a hundred different ways, and it always ends the same. If I stay, I’ll end up resenting you. And if I go and we try to hold on, I’ll end up hurting you. Either way, you lose.”

“Let me decide that!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “God, Nicholas, don’t you get it? I don’t care about the risk. I want to try. I want us to work.”

He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply as if trying to steady himself. “You think I don’t want that too?” he said quietly, his voice low but laced with frustration. “I do, (Y/N). I want it so fucking badly it hurts. But I can’t give you what you deserve right now. Not when I’m about to dive headfirst into… all of this.”

“Into what?” I demanded, my chest heaving. “Into auditions and callbacks and God knows what else? Nic, you don’t have to go through that alone. I’m right here. I’m always right here.”

“That’s the problem,” he muttered, almost to himself. He looked at me then, his eyes burning with a mix of anguish and determination. “I don’t want you waiting around for me while I figure my shit out. You deserve more than that.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what I deserve!” I yelled, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over. “You’re not doing this for me. You’re doing it for yourself. So don’t stand there and act like you’re some kind of martyr.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Maybe I am doing it for myself,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

I laughed bitterly. “You’ve spent all summer acting like everything was perfect, like—like what we had actually mattered, and two months ago, you told me that I should go with you and now you’re just walking away? Why the fuck did you even bother with me, Nic? Was I just some good fuck to you? Just some hometown fling before you head off to bigger and better things?”

His face twisted with hurt, and he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. “Don’t you fucking say that,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You know that’s not what this was. You know you mean more to me than that.”

“Do I?” I challenged, stepping closer until we were inches apart. My chest heaved with anger, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you’ve been stringing me along all summer, letting me fall for you, just so you could rip the rug out from under me when it was convenient.”

Nicholas’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of my words had physically hit him. “That’s not what I was trying to do,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then what the fuck were you trying to do, Nic?” I demanded, my voice cracking as the tears I’d been holding back spilled over. “Because I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you can look at me like I’m your whole world one minute and then tell me you’re leaving the next.”

He sighed, his hands raking through his hair as he took a step back. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said finally, his voice filled with raw emotion. “That’s why I can’t do this. I can’t give you what you deserve right now, (Y/N). Not while I’m chasing this dream. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Fair?” I echoed, my voice trembling with disbelief. “You think this is fair? Breaking my heart the night before you leave?”

“I’d rather break it now than let you waste your time on someone who can’t give you what you need,” he said, his voice tight. “I can’t be what you need right now, (Y/N). I can’t be here. And you deserve better than that.”

“I don’t want better,” I said, my voice breaking as I stepped closer to him, my hands trembling as I reached for his. “I want you. I don’t care if it’s hard or messy. I want to make this work, Nic. Why won’t you let me?”

His hands closed over mine, his grip firm but trembling as he looked down at me, his dark eyes filled with a pain that mirrored my own. “Because you deserve someone who can give you all of himself,” he said softly. “And right now, I can’t. Acting is all I’ve ever wanted, and if I stay here — if I try to juggle this and you — I’m going to end up failing at both.”

I shook my head, the tears streaming down my face as I tried to pull my hands away, but he held on, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” I said, my voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “You don’t get to tell me what I deserve.”

“Maybe I don’t,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m doing it anyway. Because I love you too much to half-ass this, (Y/N). And I’m scared that if I try to hold on to you while I’m chasing this, I’m going to lose you anyway.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I felt my knees buckle beneath the weight of them. “You’re already losing me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Nic’s jaw tightened, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he cupped my face in his hands. “I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And it’s killing me.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine as his thumbs brushed away my tears. For a moment, we just stood there, the silence between us filled with everything we couldn’t say. And then he kissed me, soft and slow, like he was trying to memorize the feel of me before he walked away.

When he pulled back, I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. He let go of my hands, stepping back as if putting distance between us was the only way he could follow through with what he’d just said.

“I hate you,” I mumbled.

Nic flinched as if my words physically hit him, his shoulders sagging under the weight of them. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, his dark brown eyes locked on mine, filled with a mixture of regret and anguish. “I hate me too,” he finally whispered, his voice barely audible but laced with raw honesty.

The admission twisted something inside me. I wanted to scream at him, hit him, anything to make him feel a fraction of the pain that was tearing me apart. But instead, I just stood there, trembling and broken, watching as he turned and walked away.

I stayed in the garden long after he disappeared, the warmth of the summer night doing little to thaw the icy grip around my chest. When I finally found the strength to move, I felt hollow, like he’d taken a piece of me with him when he left.

The sound of Nicholas clearing his throat pulled me back to the present. “You, too, (Y/N),” he spoke softly.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. None of this was. I wanted to scream, to plead, to explain. But I couldn’t. The words stuck in my throat, choked by the weight of everything I hadn’t said when it mattered most.

I nodded once, my movements stiff and mechanical. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I turned on my heel and began walking toward the house, the sound of my footsteps on the stone path feeling unnaturally loud in the heavy silence.

And just like that, the party was over before it even started.

As I reached the threshold of the French doors, I hesitated, glancing back over my shoulder. Nicholas was still standing there, his back to me, his hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. He looked… broken. And I hated that I was part of the reason why.

I opened my mouth to say something, but the words died in my throat. What could I possibly say that would make any of this better? So I turned away, stepping inside and letting the door swing shut behind me.

The air inside the house was tense, the energy crackling with the weight of what had just transpired. Staff members bustled about, their voices hushed as they pretended not to glance in my direction. I quickly ducked my head and made my way to the supply closet at the base of the stairs, desperate for a moment of solitude.

Once inside, I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, my chest heaving as I fought to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. The small, dimly lit space felt like a sanctuary — a place where I could finally breathe, even if just for a moment.

I sank to the floor, my knees pulling to my chest as I buried my face in my hands. My mind raced with everything that had just happened, every word Nicholas had thrown at me, every ounce of his anger and betrayal. It played on a loop, each moment stabbing at my heart like a knife.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to storm out of this house and never look back. But more than anything, I wanted to go back in time and undo everything that had brought me to this moment.

My head jerked up as a faint knock came through the door. For a moment, I froze, my breath caught in my throat.

“Cara mia, are you in there?” Paolo’s voice muffled through.

I hesitated, wiping at my face. I planned on standing, but the door slowly cracked open before opening fully. I looked up to see Paolo, Maria, and my mom all at the door.

Their faces were a mix of concern and quiet understanding. My mom crouched down immediately, her arms opening as she settled on her knees in front of me. I didn’t even hesitate — I crumpled into her embrace, the dam finally breaking as the tears spilled over.

She wrapped me up tightly, her hand cradling the back of my head as I sobbed into her shoulder. “Shh, it’s okay,” she murmured softly, rocking me gently. “Let it out, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Maria crouched next to her, her usually bubbly demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness. “(Y/N), you did the best you could,” she said quietly. “You were trying to protect your mom, protect yourself. Nobody can blame you for that.”

Paolo leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, but his expression wasn’t stern. It was softer than I’d ever seen it, his sharp features etched with something almost like sympathy. “That bitch,” he muttered, shaking his head. “She’s vile. Manipulative. None of this is on you, sweetie.”

I tried to speak, to explain, but the words got lost in the overwhelming tide of emotion. My mom held me tighter, her voice a soothing murmur as she whispered reassurances I barely registered through the sound of my own sobs.

“I didn’t want this to happen,” I finally choked out, my voice muffled against her shoulder. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You didn’t,” my mom said firmly, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. Her own were glassy with unshed tears, her expression fierce. “You didn’t hurt anyone. That woman did. She’s the one who lied and threatened and created this mess — not you.”

Maria nodded, placing a hand on my knee. “She’s right. You’re not the villain here, (Y/N). You’re just caught in the middle of something none of us could’ve seen coming.”

Paolo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “And Nicholas,” he added, his tone softening. “He’s hurt and angry now, sì, but he’ll see the truth eventually. Give him time.”

I wiped at my eyes, sniffling as I leaned back against the wall. My mom reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue, gently dabbing at my cheeks like she used to when I was little. Her touch was so tender, so grounding, that it almost made me cry all over again.

“Take a breath, sweetheart,” she said softly. “You’ve been carrying so much on your shoulders. Let us help you carry it now.”

I nodded weakly, taking a shuddering breath as I tried to calm the storm raging inside me. They stayed with me in the small, cramped closet, their presence a quiet reminder that I wasn’t alone, even in the middle of this nightmare.

After a few minutes, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, followed by the distinct voice of Mrs. Chavez. “Where is she?” she called out, her tone brisk but tinged with worry.

Paolo stepped out into the hall. “In here,” he said quietly, gesturing to the door.

Mrs. Chavez appeared a moment later, her usual grace and composure slightly shaken. Her gaze softened the moment she saw me huddled on the floor, and she crouched down beside my mom, her hand resting gently on my shoulder.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured, her voice warm and soothing. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea she was putting you through this.”

I shook my head, wiping at my eyes again. “It’s not your fault,” I whispered.

Mrs. Chavez’s expression tightened, her jaw clenching as she glanced toward the hallway where the chaos had unfolded. “It is my fault,” she said firmly. “I brought that woman into our lives, and I didn’t see her for what she really was. But that ends today.”

Her words carried a weight, a promise of action that I hadn’t realized I needed to hear. She turned her gaze back to me, her eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. “You’re not going anywhere, (Y/N),” she said firmly. “You and your mom are part of this family, and no one — not her, not anyone — will take that away from you.”

I nodded, the lump in my throat too big to speak around. My mom squeezed my hand, her own eyes shimmering with gratitude as she glanced at Mrs. Chavez.

“Thank you,” my mom whispered.

Mrs. Chavez offered a small, kind smile before turning back to me. “Take as much time as you need to collect yourself, sweetheart. We’ll handle everything else.”

Her words were a balm, a lifeline in the middle of the chaos. I nodded again, my chest loosening just a fraction as I realized I wasn’t as alone in this as I’d thought.

For a moment, I allowed myself to breathe, to lean into the support being offered to me. My mom’s hand remained on mine, steady and warm, while Maria gave me a reassuring nod, her bright eyes filled with quiet determination. Paolo lingered by the door, his sharp gaze scanning the hallway as though ready to intercept anyone who might disturb this fragile moment of calm.

Mrs. Chavez’s presence was a surprising comfort. I hadn’t expected her to take my side so firmly, especially given everything that had just unraveled. But her unwavering resolve gave me the strength to nod, to whisper, “Okay.”

She straightened, smoothing down her blouse as she glanced back at Paolo. “Gather the staff and let them know they’re dismissed for the evening,” she instructed. “They’ve worked hard enough for tonight; they can come back tomorrow to get rid of everything.”

Paolo nodded curtly, already stepping into the hall to carry out her orders.

“Maria,” Mrs. Chavez continued, her voice softening as she turned to her. “Could you help Mrs. (L/N) with some tea for (Y/N)? I think we all need a moment to regroup.”

Maria gave me a small smile before standing and gesturing to my mom. “Come on, let’s get you both something warm,” she said gently.

My mom hesitated, her grip on my hand tightening slightly as though reluctant to leave me. But I managed a faint smile, squeezing her hand back. “I’ll be okay, Mom,” I said softly. “I promise.”

She searched my face for a moment before nodding, brushing a stray strand of hair from my forehead like she used to when I was a child. “We’ll be right back,” she murmured before standing and following Maria out of the room.

That left me with Mrs. Chavez, who remained crouched beside me, her eyes soft but steady as she studied me.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Chavez,” I whispered.

She gave me a sympathetic smile, “For what?”

I wiped away the salty mucus running down my nose with the collar of my uniform, “Nicholas and I…we were—“

Mrs. Chavez raised a hand gently, stopping me mid-sentence. Her expression remained calm, though her eyes softened with understanding. “Darling, stop,” she said quietly, her voice steady but kind. “I’m not here to judge you or demand explanations. I know my son, and I know his heart.” She paused, her gaze holding mine. “Whatever happened between you two, I can see it’s complicated. But I also see the way he looks at you. That’s not something I can ignore.”

My breath caught in my throat as her words sank in. I searched her face, expecting disappointment or anger, but found neither. Instead, there was only warmth and something that almost looked like pity.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”

She let out a soft sigh, reaching out to take my hand in hers. “Life is messy, (Y/N). Love is messy. And sometimes, people find themselves in situations they never intended. That doesn’t make them bad people.” Her thumb brushed over my knuckles in a comforting gesture. “You’re not a bad person, (Y/N).”

Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I looked down at our joined hands, the weight of her words almost too much to bear. “I didn’t want to hurt him,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Or you, or anyone.”

“I know you didn’t. Trust me, this house has always been full of whispers, lies, and drama. This isn’t the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last,” she said softly.

I nodded slowly, though her words didn’t erase the ache in my chest. “He hates me now,” I whispered, the tears threatening to spill over again.

Mrs. Chavez shook her head, her hand moving to gently tilt my chin up so I’d meet her gaze. “Nicholas doesn’t hate you,” she said, her tone steady and certain. “He’s angry, yes. Hurt. But hate? That boy has loved you for far too long to ever hate you.”

Her words soothed the raw wound inside me. But they also felt like a double-edged sword, a reminder of the complicated, messy love I shared with Nicholas.

“What do I do now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Chavez sighed softly, her thumb brushing against the back of my hand in a reassuring gesture. “You give him time,” she said simply. “Time to process everything, time to heal. And when he’s ready, you show him that you’re still the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago.”

I nodded, unable to speak as the lump in my throat grew tighter. Mrs. Chavez gave my hand one last squeeze before standing, her usual grace and composure returning as she smoothed her blouse once more

“Take as long as you need, okay?” she said, her tone gentle but firm.

I nodded again, my voice still caught somewhere between my chest and my throat. She offered me a small, reassuring smile before turning and leaving the room, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

I stayed on the floor for a while after Mrs. Chavez left, her words replaying in my mind. The knot in my chest loosened slightly, replaced by a strange, quiet determination. If she believed in me, if she thought I still had a place here, maybe — just maybe — I could believe it, too.

But it didn’t change the fact that Nicholas was still furious with me. And rightfully so. I had betrayed his trust, whether out of fear or misplaced loyalty to my family, and I couldn’t take that back. All I could do was hope that time, as Mrs. Chavez suggested, might help heal some of the wounds I’d caused.

I pulled myself to my feet, my legs shaky but steady enough to carry me back to the kitchen. The house was quieter now, the hum of activity from earlier replaced by an uneasy calm. When I stepped into the kitchen, my mom and Maria were waiting for me with steaming cups of tea, their expressions a mix of concern and relief.

“Here,” my mom said, pressing a cup into my hands. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

I nodded, taking a sip and letting the warmth spread through me. The tea did help, if only because it gave me something to focus on other than the turmoil swirling inside me.

Maria leaned against the counter, her arms crossed as she studied me. “What now?” she asked, her tone softer than usual.

I shrugged, setting the cup down and wrapping my arms around myself. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I guess I’ll just… stay out of his way for a while. Give him space.”

Maria nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered my words. “Maybe. But don’t let him push you away completely. Nicholas is stubborn, but he’s also human.”

My mom reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear like she used to when I was a child. “You’re stronger than you think, sweetheart,” she said softly. “And you’re not alone in this.”

I smiled weakly, grateful for their support even if I didn’t feel entirely deserving of it. “Thanks, Mom,” I murmured.

Paolo poked his head into the kitchen then, his expression as sharp as ever. “No sign of that cagna,” he announced. “I think she left.”

“Good,” Maria muttered, her lips curling into a smirk. “About time she slithered out of here. I never liked her.”

Paolo’s gaze softened slightly as he looked at me. “You okay?”

I nodded, managing a small smile. “I’ll be fine,” I said, though the words felt more like a hope than a certainty.

He gave me a curt nod before disappearing back into the hallway, leaving me alone with my mom and Maria. I took another sip of tea, the warmth settling in my chest like a fragile shield against the storm that still raged inside me.

The next few days were a blur. The grand estate, usually so full of life and activity, felt quieter, the atmosphere heavy with tension. It seemed everyone was tiptoeing around the aftermath of the blowout, from the staff to Mrs. Chavez. Even Paolo had gone unusually silent, though his protective glares whenever someone mentioned Valerie were hard to miss.

I kept my head down, focusing on my tasks and doing my best to avoid Nicholas. I couldn’t face him—not yet. Every time I passed through the garden or the library or even the kitchen, my heart raced, half-expecting him to appear and demand answers I still wasn’t sure how to give.

Maria, ever the bright spot in my day, kept a close watch on me. She had a way of easing the tension with a quick joke or a simple squeeze of my hand when no one was looking. My mom, too, had become even more attentive, her concern etched into her features as she checked on me constantly.

But Nicholas? He was nowhere to be found, on the estate at least. He had gone back to Los Angeles, back to his place. And it didn’t take long for Valerie to end up winning in the end. She had ended up going to every tabloid that would hear her side of the story, and I bet she was paid pretty well for every single one.

“Valerie: ‘Nicholas Alexander Chavez Cheated On Me’”

“A Broken Engagement: The Truth Behind Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s Secret Affair”

“Hollywood Star Nicholas Alexander Chavez Caught in Love Triangle with Fiancée and Maid”

“Inside Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s Explosive Breakup”

The headlines were relentless, splashed across glossy pages and plastered on every celebrity gossip website. Photographs of Nicholas and Valerie at charity galas and red-carpet events were juxtaposed with grainy, invasive shots of the estate, Nicholas looking rough while out running errands, and exclusive images courtesy of Valerie. 

Her version of events dominated the headlines, painting herself as the tragic victim of a heartless actor and his manipulative fling with the “help.” The stories twisted every detail, skewing the truth into a salacious narrative that catered to gossip-hungry readers. The stories even dragged me into the spotlight, labeling me as everything from a conniving gold digger to an innocent pawn in Nicholas’s supposed “games.”

The narrative was clear: Nicholas was the cheating fiancé, Valerie the heartbroken victim, and I — the villain.

I avoided looking at the articles, but it was impossible to ignore the whispers among the staff, the way Paolo slammed down his phone and ranting in Italian in the kitchen after scrolling through social media. My mom banned any newspapers from the house, her protective instincts going into overdrive as she tried to shield me from the worst of it. Even Mrs. Chavez’s normally serene demeanor had shifted into something more fraught, her jaw tight as she made calls and spoke in hushed tones to her lawyer.

Maria, on the other hand, kept tabs on the media frenzy with a quiet determination. “Look, people are starting to turn on her,” she said one morning, setting her phone on the kitchen counter and showing me some tweets.

Apparently, Valerie’s attempts to gain sympathy were backfiring. Social media sleuths dug up old interviews and photos, piecing together a narrative of a woman who had been desperate for fame and willing to do whatever it took to keep it. Even some of the hired staff that were sub-contracted for the gender reveal had come out saying that Valerie was a liar. That’s when comments began flooding in, questioning her story and calling her out for her lies.

“Can’t believe she lied about her pregnancy!”

“Nicholas doesn’t owe her anything if she was faking a baby.”

“Team Nicholas all the way. She’s sketchy AF.”

Still, the damage was done. Nicholas’s name was dragged through the mud, and so was mine. He disappeared from the estate entirely, no doubt retreating to wherever he could escape the relentless glare of the media.

As for me, I kept my head down and worked as much as I could. I stayed out of sight whenever Mrs. Chavez entertained guests, avoided the staff gatherings, and did my best to pretend I wasn’t the unwitting center of a media circus.

But no matter how hard I tried to move on, the weight of it all lingered. Nicholas’s absence was a constant reminder of everything that had gone wrong, every choice I’d made that led to this moment. And every time I glanced at the empty garden where it all came to a head, my chest tightened with a familiar ache.

It wasn’t until almost three weeks later that I finally saw him again. Mrs. Chavez had arranged for Nicholas to return to the estate to finalize some of the logistics with the family lawyers away from the paparazzi stalking him in Los Angeles. I didn’t know if it was intentional on her part or just sheer coincidence that she mentioned it while passing me in the hall, but either way, it felt like my last chance.

By the time his car pulled up to the driveway, the air outside was heavy with the promise of rain, clouds rolling in and casting shadows across the estate. I watched from the kitchen window as Nicholas stepped out, his movements stiff, his shoulders squared like he was bracing himself for a battle. My heart clenched at the sight of him, his face sharper, more guarded than I remembered. He looked tired in his plain white t-shirt and sweatpants, worn down by everything that had unfolded since that disastrous evening.

I stayed frozen as he disappeared into the house, my pulse thundering in my ears. I hadn’t thought beyond this moment — hadn’t planned what I’d say, how I’d approach him. I only knew I couldn’t let him leave again without trying to make things right.

I found him that night sitting by the pool, just as we both liked to do that entire summer all those years ago.

The night air was thick with humidity, the kind that clung to your skin and made every breath feel heavy. The estate was quiet, save for the soft rustling of the trees and the occasional chirp of a cricket. I hesitated at the edge of the garden, the faint glow of the pool lights illuminating Nicholas’s silhouette as he sat at the edge, his feet dangling over the side. A beer rested on the ground next to him, untouched.

I didn’t know what I was expecting — to find him pacing in frustration, to hear him yell at me again, to be met with indifference. But this? The quiet, vulnerable stillness of him caught me off guard.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, the sound of my footsteps muted by the damp grass then shuffled across the concrete. My footsteps were quiet, but he must have heard me because his head tilted slightly, though he didn’t look back. I stopped a few feet away, the pool’s reflection dancing on his face.

“Can I sit?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Nicholas didn’t answer right away. He sat there, staring at the rippling water as if the answer he wanted might emerge from its depths. His jaw tensed, his dark eyes unreadable, but eventually, he nodded once, the movement barely perceptible.

I took it as permission and sank down beside him, keeping a careful distance. The concrete beneath me was cool, the faint smell of chlorine mingling with the earthy scent of petrichor. My heart pounded in my chest as the silence stretched between us, heavy and unyielding.

“I’m sorry,” I said finally, the words trembling as they left my lips. “For not telling you. For all of it. So much could’ve been avoided if I just…” the words died on my tongue.

“Stop,” he interrupted, his voice quiet but firm. He turned to me then, his dark brown eyes piercing in the dim light. “You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“But I do,” I insisted, my chest tightening as I looked at him. “You’re right. I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you, and I didn’t. I let her scare me, and I—”

“Baby,” he said softly, the word wrapping around me like a lifeline. His voice was strained, but the sharp edge it had carried before was gone. “I get it. Okay? I understand why you didn’t tell me.”

I blinked at him, my breath catching. “You… do?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the strands as if trying to ground himself. “She’s a fucking piece of work,” he muttered, his gaze flicking back to the water. “And she knew exactly what to say to keep you quiet. She’s done it to me too, in her own way. Let’s just say there was a reason I was gonna break up with her before she…” he paused. “I just didn’t see it until it was too late.”

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “That doesn’t excuse what I did,” I whispered. “Or what I didn’t do.”

Nicholas turned to me again, his gaze softer now, though still heavy with emotion. “I’m not saying it does,” he said quietly. “But I also know you were trying to protect your mom, yourself.”

I nodded, my eyes stinging as I tried to hold back tears. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Nic. I swear I didn’t.”

He exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he reached through the space between us and raked his fingers through the back of my hair, his thumb repeatedly brushing back the hair near my temple. “I know, baby,” he murmured. “And I shouldn’t have screamed at you like that. Especially in front of everyone. Fuck, I was just…”

I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch and the quiet intimacy of the moment. For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension that had weighed on my chest began to ease.

I bit my lip. “You had every right to be angry, Nic,” I said. “I kept something from you that I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry.” When I opened my eyes again, Nicholas had scooted closer, closing the distance between us, and was watching me with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

He shook his head, “I’m the one who should be apologizing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t deserve that, (Y/N). Not after everything. I was never mad at you, not really. I was mad at myself. For letting her… I don’t know, take over my life. For letting her manipulate me for so long. I’m mad at her, at this whole fucking situation. But not you, baby. Never you.”

His words broke something inside me, and the tears I’d been holding back spilled over. I let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch as my chest ached with a mix of relief and regret. “I’m so sorry, Nic,” I whispered. “It’s not your fault,” I said softly. “She’s the one that lied about being pregnant in the first place. It’s not your fault you chose to step up when it mattered.”

Nicholas let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head while brushing away the tears that spilled out of me with his thumb. “Yeah, well, I should’ve known better.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. He pulled me into his arms then, holding me close as I buried my face in his chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear was a balm to my frayed nerves, a reminder that no matter how messy or complicated things got, we still had each other.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence between us heavy but not unbearable. I could feel the warmth of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing as he.

“No offense, but I never liked her,” I mumbled, wiping away my boogers, “Even before the fake pregnancy thing.”

His chest rumbled beneath my ear as he let out an audible laugh then, a genuine one. “You don’t say,” Nicholas replied, his tone light but with an edge of teasing. His laughter warmed me, a sound I hadn’t realized I missed so much. His hand stayed on my back, tracing slow, calming circles as he added, “What gave it away? The constant passive-aggressive digs or the terrifyingly fake smile?”

I pulled back slightly, my tears drying as I looked up at him. “Both. And the way she treated everyone like shit.” I sniffled, a wry smile tugging at my lips despite everything. “She wasn’t exactly subtle.”

Nicholas smirked, shaking his head. “You should’ve told her off way sooner.”

“I thought about it,” I admitted, letting out a soft laugh. “But I couldn’t defy the soon-to-be lady of the house now, could I?”

His smirk faltered, his expression softening as he cupped my cheek. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with any of that, baby. Especially not because of me.”

“It wasn’t just because of you,” I said quickly, placing my hand over his. “I stayed because of my mom and Mrs. Chavez. And…” I hesitated, looking down before meeting his gaze again. ���And maybe because I wasn’t ready to let go of this place. Of… you.”

Nicholas’s dark eyes searched mine, his thumb brushing softly against my cheek. “You don’t have to let go,” he murmured. “Not of us. Not anymore.”

I blinked up at him, my heart swelling with a fragile hope I hadn’t dared to feel before. “You mean that?”

He nodded, leaning down so his forehead rested against mine. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, (Y/N). But letting you go back then? That was the worst one, and I’m not making it again.”

My breath caught, the sincerity in his voice and the closeness of his touch grounding me. “I love you, Nic. So much. I never stopped. Never.”

Nicholas exhaled deeply, his fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of my neck as he pulled me closer, his lips brushing softly against my forehead. “I never stopped loving you, too,” he murmured, his voice low and raw with emotion. “But you already knew that,” he smirked ever so slightly.

The rain began to fall in gentle droplets, cool against the humid air, but neither of us moved. The world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of his breathing, the warmth of his body, and the truth we had both been too afraid to confront until now.

Nicholas tilted my chin up with his fingers, his dark brown eyes searching mine. “Can we start over?” he asked finally, his voice soft but filled with quiet hope.

My heart ached at the tenderness in his words, the vulnerability in his gaze. I nodded slowly, a small, shaky smile tugging at my lips.

Nicholas let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as a faint smile crossed his lips. “Good,” he said softly, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from my face.

His lips found mine then, soft and tentative at first, as though testing the fragile bond between us. But when I didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, his hands tightening around my waist as he pulled me flush against him. I melted into him, my fingers clutching at his shirt as the rain grew heavier, soaking us both.

The cool droplets mixed with the heat of his touch, the contrast igniting something wild and desperate within me. Nicholas groaned against my lips, his hands roaming over my back before settling on my hips, pulling me onto his lap. My skirt bunched around my thighs, the wet fabric clinging to my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. All that mattered was him — his lips, his hands, the way he made me feel like the only person in the world.

His hands moved up, gripping the sides of my waist as he kissed me like it was the only thing tethering him to this earth. I shifted in his lap, straddling him, the fabric of my soaked skirt bunching between us. His mouth left mine to trail down my neck, his hot breath sending shivers through me despite the cool rain cascading over us.

“God,” Nicholas murmured against my skin, his voice rough and low. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed this? Missed you?”

I didn’t trust my voice to reply, not when his lips were doing things that made coherent thought impossible. Instead, I tilted my head to give him better access, my fingers threading through his damp hair. His hands roamed down, sliding beneath the hem of my shirt and brushing against the bare skin of my back, sending electric jolts straight to my core.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered, his lips pausing just below my ear.

I let out a breathless laugh, threading my fingers through his damp hair as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot on my neck. “Right back at you, baby.”

He pulled back at the word, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “Say that again.”

“Baby,” I whispered, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to his jaw.

He chuckled, low and throaty, the sound vibrating against my skin. I grabbed his face and pulled his lips back to mine. The kiss was urgent now, full of pent-up desire and weeks of tension finally snapping.

His hands gripped my thighs, sliding upward beneath the wet fabric of my skirt until his fingers found the edge of my panties.The sound of the rain grew louder, the rhythmic patter against the pool’s surface blending with our labored breathing and soft moans.

He shifted, guiding me back until I was lying flat against the wet concrete, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from both of us. His body covered mine, his weight pressing me down in the most delicious way as his hands continued their exploration, finding every inch of skin he could reach.

“Fuck,” he muttered against my lips, his voice raw with need. “I’ve been dying for this—dying for you.”

My fingers dug into his back as he kissed me with a hunger that felt almost feral, his hands tugging my soaked panties down my legs and tossing them aside. His lips found my collarbone, trailing wet kisses down my chest as his hand slid between my thighs, his touch igniting sparks everywhere he went.

I gasped, my head falling back against the concrete as his fingers explored, teasing and coaxing reactions from me that left me trembling. The rain kept falling, the cool droplets mingling with the heat of our bodies, and the world beyond us faded away.

“I need you to promise me something,” he murmured, his voice low as his lips returned to mine.

“What?” I breathed, my voice shaky as I looked up at him. His dark brown eyes burned with intensity, his face inches from mine.

“Promise me you’ll never keep anything from me again,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “I don’t care what it is. If something’s wrong, if someone’s fucking with you—I need to know.”

My chest ached at the raw vulnerability in his voice, the weight of his words settling heavily between us. “I promise,” I whispered, my hands framing his face. “I won’t keep anything from you ever again. You mean too much to me, Nic.”

His lips crashed into mine again, his relief palpable as he kissed me with a passion that left me breathless. “Good,” he murmured against my mouth. “Because I’d fucking move heaven and earth for you, (Y/N). Do you hear me? You’re my everything.”

My breath hitched at his words, the sheer intensity of his confession leaving me speechless. His forehead rested against mine, his breath mingling with mine as the rain continued to fall in a relentless rhythm around us.

“You’re my everything, too,” I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion.

His hands slid down my body, tracing every curve and hollow as if memorizing me all over again. When his fingers slipped between my thighs, I let out a soft gasp, my hips instinctively rising to meet his touch. He groaned against my lips, his breath hot and ragged as he murmured my name.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he whispered, his forehead still resting against mine as his fingers moved in slow, torturous circles. “Missed the way you feel. The way you taste. The way you look at me like I’m the only man in the world.”

“You are,” I breathed, my voice trembling as I clung to him.

Nicholas froze at my words, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my chest tighten. His fingers stilled for a moment, resting against me as he let out a shaky breath.

My hand came up to cradle his face, my thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw. “You’ve always been.”

A low, guttural sound escaped him, and he captured my lips in a searing kiss that left me dizzy. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him as his mouth claimed mine with a hunger that sent sparks of heat coursing through my body.

The rain fell harder, soaking us both to the skin, but neither of us cared. The world around us disappeared, leaving only the sound of our ragged breathing and the feel of his body pressing against mine. His hands roamed my body, exploring every inch of me as if rediscovering a treasure he thought he’d lost.

He leaned down, his lips trailing over my neck, my collarbone, leaving a fiery path in their wake. My back arched against the wet concrete, and he took the opportunity to push my shirt higher, exposing my damp skin to the cool night air. His lips followed, pressing kisses to my stomach, my ribs, his breath warm and teasing.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked up at me. His hands slid beneath my thighs, spreading them as he knelt between my legs. 

Before I could respond, his mouth replaced his fingers, and a cry escaped my lips as he teased me with his tongue. The intensity of his touch, the way he seemed to worship me, made my head spin. My hands tangled in his rain-soaked hair, pulling him closer as he sent wave after wave of pleasure crashing through me.

Nicholas’s hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me even closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. His mouth moved with a deliberate slowness that drove me wild, each flick of his tongue, every soft, teasing suck a reminder of how much he had missed me, how much he wanted me. The rain blurred my vision, mingling with the tears that slid down my face, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was him and the way he was unraveling me with every touch.

My breath hitched, my thighs trembling against his shoulders. I tried to push up, to chase the feeling building inside me, but his hands held me down firmly. “Not so fast,” he whispered, his lips brushing over my sensitive skin.

I whimpered, my fingers gripping his hair as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm. My body writhed against the slick concrete, a desperate plea for more, for release. But Nicholas took his time, savoring every moment, every reaction he pulled from me.

“Please,” I gasped, my voice breaking as I tugged at his hair. “Nic, I need—”

He lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine. The sight of him—his rain-drenched hair, the water dripping down his sharp jaw, and the raw hunger in his gaze—made my stomach flip. “You need what, baby?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “Tell me.”

“You,” I breathed, the word slipping out before I could think. “I need you, Nic. Please.”

He sat on his knees then, his body towering over mine, rainwater dripping from his hair onto my flushed skin. His wet white shirt clung to every peak and valley of his sculpted muscles, his nipples visible through the soaked fabric.

Nicholas’s gaze darkened as his hands moved to the hem of his soaked shirt, peeling it away and revealing the smooth, golden skin beneath. The rain traced rivulets down his chest, following the sharp contours of his muscles. His body, damp and glistening, hovered over mine like a storm ready to break.

I reached for him, my hands trailing up his arms and across his chest as if grounding myself to him. My fingers skimmed over the moles on his torso — marks I’d memorized long ago. His breath hitched when I touched him, and for a moment, the raw vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

I sat up, planting kisses near his naval and working my way upwards. He embraced me then, lifting us both and moving to a nearby chaise lounge so we could escape the unforgiving concrete beneath us.

The rain continued to fall, heavier now, soaking every inch of us as he settled me onto the lounge. He slipped my skirt off and wrapped my legs around him, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down to reveal his hardened length. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he leaned down, capturing my lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of unspoken urgency.

The rain fell around us, creating a rhythm that matched the rising tension between our bodies. Nicholas pressed his forehead against mine, his hand sliding between us to guide himself to my entrance.

“Slow, please,” I whispered but still audible over the heavy patter of the rain.

Nicholas stilled, his dark eyes locked on mine as he nodded, the raw emotion in his gaze making my chest tighten. He shifted closer, his hands framing my face as if grounding himself. “Slow,” he repeated, his voice hoarse, reverent. “I promise, baby.”

His lips found mine again, softer this time, the urgency giving way to something deeper, more deliberate. I felt the tip of him press against me, a teasing pressure that sent a shiver down my spine. He groaned against my mouth, his hands trembling slightly as he moved with painstaking care, entering me inch by inch.

My breath hitched, my fingers clutching at his shoulders as the stretch filled me, the sensation overwhelming but perfect and everything I needed — what we needed. Nicholas buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my rain-soaked skin as he whispered my name, over and over.

I gasped, my body arching into his as he pushed further, his movements slow and deliberate. His lips never left my skin, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along my neck, my collarbone, as if grounding himself in the moment. Each kiss was laced with quiet apologies, murmured words of regret and reassurance that made my heart ache and swell at the same time.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough and trembling as he stilled inside me. His hands gripped my hips, anchoring us together. “I’m so fucking sorry for not fighting for you then, for now.”

Tears mingled with the rain on my face, my fingers threading through his wet hair as I pressed my lips to his temple. “I’m sorry, too,” I whispered back, my voice breaking.

Nicholas groaned softly, his hands trailing up my sides, brushing over my ribs as if trying to remind himself I was real, that we were here. I cupped his face, forcing him to look at me, to see the sincerity in my eyes.

His lips crashed into mine, the kiss tender but filled with a desperate need that made my heart race. Slowly, he began to move, his hips rolling against mine in a rhythm that was agonizingly slow, deliberate, and full of love. Each thrust was a reminder of everything we’d been through, every moment that had brought us to this point. It wasn’t just physical — it was emotional, a reconnection of souls that had been lost in the chaos.

I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulders as he filled me completely, his movements steady and unhurried. The rain soaked us to the bone, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way he made me feel — seen, cherished, loved in a way that words couldn’t capture.

Nicholas’s forehead pressed against mine as his rhythm stayed slow, deliberate, and tender, his lips brushing against my temple as though grounding us in the moment. Each stroke sent a shiver through me, a soft gasp escaping my lips as I clung to him. The rain was relentless, but the cool droplets against my overheated skin only heightened every sensation.

“Baby,” he murmured against my ear, his voice raw with emotion, “Do you feel that? How much I fucking love you?”

I nodded, unable to form words, my hands trailing up his rain-slicked back to tangle in his hair. His pace remained torturous, each thrust measured and purposeful. His lips found mine again, soft and searching, and I felt the unspoken apologies in every kiss, the promises in every caress.

His lips claimed mine again, slow and deep, as though trying to pour every ounce of his love and regret into that single kiss. The world around us faded away, the storm intensifying as the rain fell even harder, soaking our bodies as we moved together.

Every roll of his hips, every kiss, every whispered word was a balm to the wounds we’d both carried for far too long. There was no urgency, no desperation — only the deliberate, unyielding connection between us. His hands roamed over my body, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin that made me tremble beneath him.

Our movements were unhurried, each touch, each kiss, deliberate, as though we were weaving the pieces of ourselves back together. Nicholas held me like I was something sacred, his hands cradling my face, his lips brushing over mine with a tenderness that made my chest ache. The rain continued to fall, the steady rhythm against the pool blending with our breaths, our sighs.

He whispered my name like a mantra, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against mine as his hips moved against me in a rhythm that felt like poetry.

Tears blurred my vision. “I love you, too,” I whispered, the words spilling from my lips like a vow. “Always.”

His pace quickened slightly, the pressure building between us as his movements became more purposeful, more insistent. The heat pooling in my core grew, spreading through my body like wildfire as he pushed me closer to the edge. Nicholas’s hand rested on the one I had curled around his hair, intertwining his fingers with mine and pinning my arm above my head.

His lips hovered just above mine, his breath mingling with mine as the rhythm of his hips grew firmer, more insistent. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice thick and raw, every word vibrating through me. “I can’t believe I almost lost you.”

“Nic…” I gasped, my voice trembling as my body arched beneath him, seeking more, craving everything he had to give. The rain poured down around us, the sound a backdrop to the symphony of our breaths, our moans, the quiet gasps that escaped every time he moved inside me.

A groan tore from his throat, his lips crashing against mine as if he couldn’t stand the distance between us for another second. His tongue swept into my mouth, desperate and demanding, as his pace quickened, each thrust more deliberate, more consuming.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he growled against my lips, his voice ragged and trembling with restraint.

Nicholas pressed deeper, his grip on my hand tightening as he brought his other hand to my waist, holding me firmly beneath him. His movements grew more purposeful, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure radiating through my entire body. His control was slipping, and I could feel the tension coiled within him, the sheer effort it took for him to keep his pace measured and deliberate.

“I’m yours,” he growled, his voice low and guttural, each word punctuated by the steady rhythm of his hips. “I’ve always been yours, baby.”

I moaned in response, unable to form coherent words as he pushed me closer to the edge. The rain was relentless, soaking us both as it blurred the lines between where he ended and I began. My fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer, as if the mere inches between us were unbearable.

Nicholas shifted, his weight pressing into me as he lifted my leg over his shoulder so he could hit deeper and reach that spongy spot inside me until I cried out. His lips moved to my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Right there, baby?” Nicholas growled against my neck, his voice thick with desire as his teeth grazed my skin.

“Yes,” I gasped, my hands clutching at his damp shoulders, nails digging into his slick skin. “Oh, my God, Nic. Don’t stop.”

His hips snapped harder, the rhythm deliberate yet overwhelming as he drove into me again and again. The rain hammered down, but the heat between us only grew. Nicholas leaned back just enough to look into my eyes, his face intense and wild, water dripping down his sharp cheekbones.

“You like it when I fuck you like this, baby?” he rasped, his free hand trailing down my waist to grip my thigh. “When I make you scream my name?”

“Yes!” I cried out, my voice raw as my body arched beneath him. Every nerve in my body was alive, every touch, every word pushing me closer to the edge. “Nic, I’m so close.”

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, his lips capturing mine in a brutal, possessive kiss. “I always do.”

My nails raked down his back as he thrust harder, deeper, each movement building the pressure inside me until it was unbearable. His growls mixed with my cries, the sound of our bodies moving together in the rain echoing into the night.

“I love watching you like this,” he whispered, his breath hot against my lips as he gazed down at me. “Taking me so perfectly. Fuck, you’re incredible.”

His words pushed me over the edge, my body tightening around him as I shattered. A scream tore from my lips, and he swallowed it with a searing kiss, his own movements growing erratic as he chased his release.

“Baby,” he groaned, his voice breaking as his hips jerked against mine. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” I gasped, pulling him closer, my legs tightening around him. “I’m yours, Nic. Always.”

With a guttural growl, he buried himself deep, his body shuddering as he spilled inside me, filling me completely. The tension in his shoulders melted away as he collapsed against me, his forehead resting against mine as he fought to catch his breath.

Nicholas wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as we lay tangled together on the lounge chair. For several minutes, neither of us moved, the rain cascading over us like a curtain, shielding us from the world outside as it refused to let up. The weight of everything — the fight, the lies, the media circus — seemed to fade, leaving only the steady rhythm of his breathing and the way his chest rose and fell against mine.

Nicholas’s hands traced gentle patterns along my back, his touch soothing as he pressed a lingering kiss to my damp forehead. “I’m not letting you go again,” he murmured, his voice low and resolute.

I tightened my grip around him, my fingers tracing the curve of his shoulder. “Me neither,” I whispered back. “Not this time.”

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his dark gaze searching mine for any hint of doubt. Whatever he saw there must have reassured him because a soft, almost shy smile tugged at his lips — a glimpse of the Nicholas I had fallen in love with so many years ago.

“Good,” he said, his hand coming up to brush a strand of wet hair from my face. He rested his chin atop my head, his fingers trailing down my back in soothing strokes. “We should probably get inside,” he said after a while, his voice tinged with reluctant amusement. “Before we catch pneumonia.”

“Five more minutes,” I sighed, burying my face in his chest and hugging him tighter.

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Seriously, baby, you’re shivering.”

I hadn’t even noticed until he mentioned it. The wind was beginning to pick up, and there was only so much warmth Nicholas’s body could provide in the weather. I nodded, reluctantly pulling away from him slightly. With a grunt, Nicholas pushed himself to his feet, lifting me with him. My legs felt unsteady beneath me, but his arms stayed wrapped securely around my waist, steadying me as he bent down to pick up our discarded clothes.

Nicholas draped his wet shirt over his shoulder and handed me my skirt and panties. I took them silently, my cheeks warming as the reality of what had just happened settled over me. I slipped my panties back on, the damp fabric clinging to me uncomfortably, and stepped into my skirt.

He shrugged on his wet shirt, the fabric clinging to his chest, and bent down to pick up my soaked blouse, carefully opening it by the collar so the fabric wouldn’t drag on my hair as I slipped it on. His touch lingered on my arms for a moment, his dark eyes searching mine. I could see the softness there now, a quiet tenderness that made my chest ache.

Nicholas’s lips quirked into a half-smile, though his concern didn’t waver. “Come on. Let’s get you inside before you freeze.”

He kept an arm wrapped around my waist as we made our way back toward the house, the rain continuing its relentless downpour. My shoes squelched against the wet stone path, and I winced at the uncomfortable sensation of cold fabric clinging to my legs.

“You okay?” he asked, glancing down at me.

I let out a shaky laugh, wrapping my arms around myself. “I’ll survive.”

Nicholas’s arm tightened around me, his body warm against my side despite the chill. “You’re a trooper, baby. But next time? We’re doing this somewhere dry.”

I laughed softly, the sound shaky but real, and leaned into him as we approached the door. We kicked off both of our shoes and socks, leaving them to dry outside.

Nicholas held the door open for me, his hand lingering on the small of my back as I stepped inside. The warmth of the house enveloped us immediately, and I let out a relieved sigh as the shivers that had wracked my body began to subside.The faint hum of the staff’s voices carried from the kitchen, but otherwise, the house was quiet.

The second we stepped inside, dripping wet and shivering from the rain, Mrs. Chavez’s voice cut through the air as she approached us from the kitchen. “Maria, grab some towels and clean clothes!” she called out, her tone brisk but not unkind. “Oh, my god, you two look like a pair of drowned kittens,” she said as she took in our soaked clothes and disheveled appearances.

Maria appeared within a minute or two, thick, fluffy towels in one arm and clean clothes in the other.

“What in the world were you two doing out there?” Mrs. Chavez asked, her eyes wide.

He let out a soft chuckle, reaching for a towel and slinging one towel around his neck, “Just talking.” He grabbed the other towel, unfolding it and holding it open with both hands, and turned his attention to me. “Here, baby,” he spoke softly as he carefully patted my face dry before draping the towel over my back and proceeding to dry my arms.

I stood still, letting Nicholas dry me off, his touch tender and unhurried. He worked his way down my arms and over my shoulders, his brow furrowed in concentration as if this simple act was the most important thing in the world. The towel was warm and soft, a stark contrast to the icy fabric clinging to my skin.

Mrs. Chavez’s eyes lingered on the way Nicholas’s hand rested protectively against me. Her expression softened, and she let out a quiet sigh. There was a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and I swore I saw a glimmer of relief in her eyes. “Well, I hope you’ve managed to sort things out,” she said, her tone gentler now. “But next time, perhaps consider talking indoors,” he sighed before walking off.

Maria smirked as she handed me some dry clothes. “Here, sweetheart. You two better warm up before you catch colds. Paolo has some soup on the stove if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, Maria,” I murmured, clutching the clothes to my chest.

Nicholas gently tugged on my damp blouse. “Here, let me help you.”

I hesitated, my cheeks flushing under Maria’s watchful gaze, but she waved me off with a wink. “I’ll give you two a minute,” she said, turning on her heel and disappearing back into the kitchen.

The room felt quieter without her, the hum of the rain outside the only sound as Nicholas carefully peeled off my wet blouse. His fingers brushed against my skin, and I shivered — not from the cold this time, but from the heat of his touch. His dark eyes stayed locked on mine, and I could see the unspoken emotions swirling in their depths — concern, affection, and something deeper that made my stomach flutter despite the chill.

“You don’t have to,” I murmured, clutching the dry clothes tighter against my chest.

“I want to,” he said softly, his voice low but firm. “You slipped through my fingers once; I’m not letting it happen again.”

The way he said it, so tender and unyielding, left me breathless. He reached for the dry shirt and slipped it over my head, his hands lingering at my waist as he adjusted the hem.

Nicholas crouched in front of me, his hands sliding down to hook themselves around the waistband of my skirt. He pulled it off with care, leaving me standing in just my damp panties. His eyes flicked up to mine, his dark gaze soft but intense.

“Underwear, too?” he hummed.

I hesitated for a heartbeat, my cheeks burning under his gaze. But there was no judgment in his eyes — only concern and a quiet, unwavering devotion that made my heart ache. I looked around to see if anybody was lingering and nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”

Nicholas’s hands moved with deliberate care, his fingers brushing against my hips as he slid my soaked panties down my legs. The air between us felt charged, every movement laden with unspoken emotion. He kept his eyes on mine, his touch tender and unhurried, as if he were handling something fragile.

Once the damp fabric pooled around my ankles, he picked it up and placed it neatly with the rest of the wet clothes. He reached for the dry sweatpants Maria had provided. “Step in, baby.”

I placed a hand on his shoulder for balance, stepping into the sweatpants as he guided them up my legs, pulling the waistband up. His hands rested lightly on my hips, his thumbs brushing against the fabric as he stood, his face inches from mine. The warmth of the dry fabric against my skin was a welcome relief, but it was the quiet intimacy of the moment that left me breathless.

Nicholas reached out, tucking a strand of damp hair behind my ear. His touch lingered, his dark eyes searching mine. “I��ll always take care of you,” he said, his voice low but steady. “You know that, right?”

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, nodding as I placed a hand on his chest. “I know.” When he reached for the towel again to dry my hair, I stopped him with a light touch on his wrist. “Your turn,” I said, nodding toward his soaked shirt.

Nicholas smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. “That’s fair.” He peeled off the wet fabric, his muscles rippling with the motion, and my breath caught at the sight of him — the way the light coming from the chandelier above us highlighted every line and curve.

I reached for the towel he’d left draped around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to dry his hair. He bent slightly to make it easier for me, a playful grin tugging at his lips as I worked. “You’re really getting into this, huh?”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at my lips. “Just returning the favor.”

I moved the towel down to dry his arm and torso, carefully working as if I could undo the rain’s lingering touch. Nicholas stood perfectly still, letting me take my time, his dark eyes following my every move. There was a vulnerability in his expression, something unspoken but deeply felt that made my chest tighten.

I grabbed the spare shirt Maria had set aside for him, bunching it up to the collar and shrugging it over Nicholas’s head. As the soft fabric fell into place, I smoothed my hands over his chest, brushing away any wrinkles. Then, I proceed to tug down at his sweatpants, making sure to shield him with my body in case anybody walked in.

Nicholas chuckled softly as he rested his hands on my hips, steadying himself as I worked. His voice was warm and teasing, a soft contrast to the intensity of everything we’d just shared. “If you wanted to undress me again, baby, all you had to do was ask,” he said as he stepped out of his wet bottoms and kicked them off to the side.

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the heat that rose in my cheeks. “I’m making sure you don’t catch a cold,” I said matter-of-factly, though my voice trembled slightly.

I crouched down carefully, still wanting to keep Nicholas modest, and held the sweatpants open for him to step into. One leg at a time, he stepped into them. I quickly pulled them up and adjusted the waistband, my fingers lingering at his sides for a moment before stepping back.

His hands settled on my hips as I finished, his touch light but grounding. He looked at me for a moment, and I grew a little bit shy. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

I smiled, a small, lopsided thing. “You’re welcome.”

The playful glint in his eyes was replaced by something deeper, more serious. “You know, I’ve spent nights thinking about this — us taking care of each other.” His voice dropped to a whisper, the weight of his words settling heavily between us. “I thought about what it would be like to have you like this. Not just for a moment, not just for a summer, but always. Waking up next to you. Taking care of you. Letting you take care of me.”

My breath hitched as I searched his eyes, the raw vulnerability in his gaze stealing the words from my lips. I wanted to tell him I’d thought the same thing, dreamed of it, even in the moments when I’d tried to convince myself it was impossible. But the lump in my throat made it impossible to speak.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, (Y/N),” he continued, his thumb brushing softly against my hip. “I know I said that I would regret not going to Los Angeles, but I think my biggest regret was ever leaving you behind. And I’m not doing that again. You hear me?”

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, my hands coming up to rest on his chest. His heart beat steady and strong beneath my palm, a rhythm that grounded me. “I hear you,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I couldn’t say.

His jaw tightened, his dark eyes shining with an intensity that made my chest ache. “Okay,” he said softly, his hands sliding up to cup my face. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”

I let out a watery laugh, the sound trembling but real as my hands gripped the front of his shirt as if to anchor myself to him. Nicholas’s lips found mine again, soft and deliberate, as though sealing our words with a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or desperate — it was steady, full of quiet assurance and unspoken promises. The world around us seemed to fall away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of our breathing.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against mine, the corners of his mouth tugged into a small, almost shy smile. He pulled me into his arms, his embrace warm and secure. For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of peace, as though the storm that had raged between us was finally settling.

“Let’s get that soup,” he murmured after a moment, pressing a kiss to my hair.

I laughed softly against his chest, the sound shaky but genuine then smiled, letting him guide me toward the kitchen.

The rain continued to fall outside, but for the first time, it felt like it wasn’t a storm but a fresh start, washing away everything that had come before. And with Nicholas’s hand warm in mine, I felt like maybe we’d finally found our way back to each other — for good.

[scorpioriesling]

Invisible String - Part 1

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): light angst, some involving a child being upset. Please be advised; future parts might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't begin the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- get excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night as I wait for the poll results from this week's THTH post to come through. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

It was like any other day in the West Wing of the Forest House, this weekday the same as many others you’d experienced here over the past year or so that you’d been employed here. The warm glow of the autumn sun painted the cherrywood floors in an amber glow; so beautiful and red, but nothing compared to the red head of hair that bounded over to you on little legs.

“A picture!” Her sweet voice rang out, and you turned to peer down into those big, round eyes of hers. She smiled up at you, her arms outstretched with a piece of paper at the end of it. You gasped, setting down the butter knife and bending down to her level.

“Oh my goodness Miss Riley,” you said and she beamed, her tiny, four-year-old teeth peeking out from behind her lips as you admired her drawing. It was similar to many you’d received before; a crooked drawing of you, holding hands with a crooked stick drawing of Riley. You knew who was who, of course — she made sure to draw a little crown atop her head, obviously.

“You keep it?” She asked, and you smiled at her, nodding in approval.

“Oh absolutely I’ll keep it! This is a work of art!” You said, and she jumped up and down excitedly, twirling in circles before she eventually got too dizzy and stopped. She hadn’t noticed you’d stood, resuming her lunch preparations as she recentered her gravity.

“Y/N I’m hungryyyyy,” she said, and you smiled softly to yourself, placing the top slice of bread on the sandwich in finality.

“I don’t suppose you’re ready for some lunch, hmm?” You ask, and she races to the dining room, stopping at the edge of her chair and throwing her hands in the air. You set down her plate, rolling your eyes at her silly rituals. She’d done this since you’d begun working for her father, insisting on your help though she was more than capable of needing it now.

“Riley — you know you’re grown enough now to get in your chair—“

“Pleeeeease,” she begs, her arms still above her head. “I like when you make me fly.”

You sigh, smiling as you lift under her arms and place her in her chair, her eyes wide as she takes in the plate before her.

“Ham! Yummm! My favorite; thank you, Y/N!” She says, smiling at you before grabbing her little fork and digging into her sliced peaches. You fold your hands, gazing at the small child in wonder.

“You are very welcome Riley — and very good job remembering your manners.” You praise her, and she continues to eat her food in contentment.

You’d spent the rest of the evening doing many of the same activities you’d do with Riley most evenings; playing dolls, braiding her hair how she liked, walking around the palace. Some days, she would ask to play outdoors — this was one her father was a bit iffy on, but since the day was nice, you figured no harm no foul. After a while in the gardens, you’d gotten Riley down for a nap, braided her hair, played dolls, and were cleaning up dinner when the front door to the West Wing opened.

“Daddy!”

As if on cue, every doll and stuffed animal was abandoned on the living room floor, the sound of little footsteps pattering across the cherrywood in anticipation as quick as the beats of your heart in your chest.

“Bunny,” Eris’ silky soft voice floated through the foyer and you rounded the corner in time to see him scoop his daughter up, her laughter ringing out as he peppered her cheeks with kisses.

“Daddy! Tickles!” Riley laughed, and when he finally relented and set her down, she ran right over to you. His gaze met yours, his professional yet gracious smile meeting yours in greeting.

“Y/N,” he said.

“Hello,” you said. No matter how many times you’d seen him come home, you’d never quite figured out a way of greeting friendly enough, yet still professional, but not too weird to use in front of Riley.

“Daddy, I made a drawing,” Riley beamed. Your heart sank a bit, realizing this repeat situation as if it happened yesterday. She’d drawn you so many photos, so many pictures of you and her together — but the fridge you’d used daily to make lunches, dinners, snacks — it was bare.

“Well, also,” You caught Riley’s arm lightly as you bent to her height, pausing her from running to grab her creation. “We brought in a surprise, right?” You reminded, thinking of the few Honeycrisp apples the two of you had picked earlier for her father from the grove as a surprise. Riley contemplated for a moment, then it looked as though a lightbulb went off in her head and she nodded.

“Daddy — I be right back 'kay,” she rushed out before darting for the kitchen, and Eris chuckled. You stood, picking at your sweater as you watched her run off. When you looked to Eris again, he looked to you in the same moment.

“You have no idea,” he started, pausing as if to find the right words as he stepped further into the room. “How much you being here really helps.” He focused on you then, and you shifted under his intense gaze.

“I mean… I… no where else I’d rather be, right?” You smiled lightly, and Eris loosed a breath, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m actually, really, glad to hear that, uh,” he chuckled. “Well, I um,” he cleared his throat as Riley appeared again in the entryway, hands behind her back and a grin on her face.

“Okay daddy, here is the surprise, okay?” She said. His brows rose, and he crouched down as she stepped closer, finally revealing a leaf, bright red in her little fingers. His mouth opened in shock, and she doubled over in a fit of laughter, Eris watching in admiration. You watched the precious girl, her wild sense of humor even at the age of four. You’d wondered, under his professional exterior, did she get that trait from her father, too?

“Alright my dear,” Eris said finally, standing and picking the girl up to carry in his arms. “It appears that it is your bedtime, hmm?”

You were glad he was here to do it this evening — many nights, if her father wasn’t home, you were the one at the other end of her protests, having to explain away his absences and assure her that he would, and you promised, come kiss her on the head when he got home.

You decided to finish scrubbing the last of the dinner dishes, laying them to dry when footsteps behind you caught your attention.

“You always do more than I’ve ever asked Y/N, seriously. I can’t thank you enough.”

You glanced quickly over your shoulder, trying not to look to long at the Autumn Court heir watching your every move.

“It’s nothing, really — it’s only dishes.”

In a matter of strides, he is beside you, leaning against the very counter you’re working at.

“You know what I mean.” He pauses, looking down before continuing. “I don’t know what Riley…” he sighs. “When Selene left us, I… it was, very tough. On all of us. Riley, she… I don’t know how I could’ve done it without your help.” He says quietly. You silently set down the plate you’d been washing, looking at him with knitted brows.

“Don’t ever feel bad for something someone else has done to you,” You say, your heart clenching at the reminder of his wife — well, ex-wife, you supposed — leaving him just over a year ago. Leaving him behind and her daughter.

Your chest ached.

“She made a poor decision. Riley is a lovely little girl, she’s learning so much, and truly she’s a joy to be around. This job isn’t work, for me; I really, really enjoy spending time with her, Eris. Don’t worry about it.” Your eyes meet his again, and you swear you see silver lining them. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, biting it before turning to face you.

“Live here full time, then.”

You set the plate on the drying rack, reaching for a fork and dunking it into the sink.

“Why would I need to? I’m already here five days a week-“

“But you could be here seven, look — please, at least just for a few months while I settle a few things with the other courts. I just need someone here for Riley in case I’m not here as often, and I will absolutely prepare living arrangements for you, and pay you extra, and-“

“You’re being serious?” You say, your hands stilling in the sink water. Eris stares at you pleadingly. You look down at the water. Sure, you took this job and basically it became your life. Did you have much going on outside this job? No. Was your lease almost up anyways? Yes.

You sigh, taking the fork out and laying it on the drying mat. You wipe your hands on your apron, extending one to Eris. “Fine, it’s a deal-“

He takes your hand, pulling you in and embracing you instead. The thin material of his button down does not leave much to the imagination, every toned muscle beneath…

His hands slowly rub up and down on the small of your back, and you feel your cheeks flushing at the rather intimate contact. You wrap your arms around his neck, his voice nearly inaudible next to your ear as he whispers,

“Thank you.”

:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Within a week, you'd completely uprooted from the ramshackle apartment you'd been renting on the outskirts of the Autumn court and moved yourself into the West Wing. This place felt like more of a home to you anyway, its inviting ambience, the warmth that radiated from the forest surrounding it; the people inside, especially the little girl you'd grown to care so much for over the past year.

"Y/N's moving innnn, Y/N's moving innnnn," Riley sang, skipping down the hallway barefoot in another one of her play-pretend princess dresses. She had a closet full of real gowns, hand-sewn by the seamstresses that worked in the palace themselves -- however, the little girl preferred the itchy costumes to the real ones reguardless.

"I am almost done, I promise, then we will play," you huffed a breath, sweat clinging to your tank top as you crossed the room once more. Eris was gracious to give you your own space, but... so much of it? You weren't used to having a bedroom the size of an entire apartment, let alone one so ornate. Not to mention, one just down the hall from his master room.

You tried not to think too hard about it.

"Y/N! A cookie?" Riley called, and you sighed, looking around at your remaining boxes. You'd just have to tend to them later.

"Riley," you said, rounding the bend and approaching the kitchen where Riley stood near the counter. "It's nearly dinnertime -- you know we can't-"

"Pweeeeease?" She pleads, her round, honey-colored eyes looking to you with such agony. You sigh, scooping her up and sitting her on the counter.

You hang your head between your shoulders, shaking it lowly. "Riley, your father is gonna kill me..."

She squeals in delight, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you close, her little body buzzing with excitement.

"I love you!"

Your heart warms, and you hold her tight, brushing a hand over her soft strawberry-blonde locks. Its moments like these that you wish you could show Eris, your "boss", your "employer" that this job really doesn't feel like work. You truly enjoy what you do, and his daughter is a magical little thing.

"I love you too, Riles." You say, and she releases you, looking over her shoulder toward the jar of red velvet cookies with a mischevious grin. You reach over, taking the lid off and plucking one from the container. Her legs kick against the cabinets in anticipation, soft giggles of glee coming from her as she watches you break it in half before her.

"Start with half, okay?" You say. She nods, taking it from you and immediately putting it in her mouth. You can't help but smile, watching as she motions to the other half.

"Share with you?" She says. You place a hand on your chest at her words, but hold the cookie out to her anyway.

"Riley, that is very kind of you to offer to share with me! Thank you," she takes it quickly nonetheless. "But, I'm not very hungry right now. I think you should have it."

She nods. "Okay." It's devoured in seconds, the only evidence a few crumbs on the counter. Riley giggles as she watches you brush the crumbs into your hand. Her little pointer finger comes to her lips.

"Shhh," she says, and you grin at her. "Don't tell daddy, okay?" You nod in agreement.

"Okay Miss Riley," you say, dusting your hands off over the trash can. "I won't tell him."

You went for another walk around the Forest House, played tea party and braided hair all before dinner that evening, which was proving to be rather intriguing to the little one that day. She watched as you cut carrots, questioned every spice and oil you'd dumped into the pot, and offerred her assistance more than a few times.

"Is butternut squash soup your favorite?" You ask. Riley cocks her head to the side, playing with a loose string on her Princess Belle dress.

"Hmm... no, it's okay though." She decides, and you continue stirring over the stove.

"I wonder what has you so intrigued in cooking this evening?" You ask, and she sighs, sitting on the wodden floor with her legs stretched out before her.

"I want to do something," she groans, and you nod, trying to understand what she is getting at.

"Mhm, what do you mean by that?"

"I want to... can we do something fun tomorrow?" She asks, and you shrug.

"Well, I like to think we have a lot of fun everyday together, wouldn't you say?"

"Yesssss," she lets out an exasperated sigh. "But I want to go somewhere fun with you. Me and you. Oh, and daddy. When is daddy coming home?" She asks. You chew the inside of your cheek, glancing to the wall clock. He'd routinely arrive around or just after Riley's bedtime -- 8 PM. However, since asking you to move in last week, he'd been coming home later and later. It seemed that he really did need your help with whatever he had going on, the gravity of it much bigger than you could understand.

"I'm... not sure, Riles." You answered, and she huffed.

"He's never home to play with me." She frowned, and you glanced down at her.

"Well, that's not true, he-"

"He never even comes home for dinner." She crosses her arms, her angered expression softening a bit. You set down your spoon, tucking your hair behind your ears as you kneel down before the upset child.

"Riley," you say calmly. "Your father just has a lot going on right now sweetheart, okay? I promise he loves you very much-"

You stop talking when you notice a silent tear roll down her cheek, and your heart threatens to break right in half inside your chest. You reach for her, and she turns to putty in your hands, allowing you to pull her close and hold her in your embrace.

"Oh, Riles," you say soothingly. "Please don't be upset sweet girl," you plead. She sniffles, her cheek wet against your skin above your top. You run your fingers along her hair, quietly comforting her until she eventually calms down. She pulls back, looking up at you with her puffy, but dry eyes and it takes everything in you to offer her a smile as your finger brushes lightly against her cheekbone.

"There she is," you say, and she smiles a little. "Miss Riley is back again." She grins, folding her hands in her lap as her gaze locks just beyond your face. She reaches out, her tiny fingers grazing the shell of your ear before her brows knit and she reaches for her own.

"Yours are not... no... you have..." she searches for the right word, the events prior not seeming to matter now that they've passed. You guide her fingers to the top of her ear, and then gesture to yours.

"Pointy," you say. "Your ears are pointy. Mine are different -- they are round." You explain, and she nods, processing the terms.

"Po-in-ty," she says. She looks at your ear again. "Why do you have... uh..."

"Round?"

"R-ou-nd," she continues. "Ears for?" She asks. You smile softly at her, those innocent eyes having no idea the life she has in store for herself to come.

"Because Riley," you explain. "There are different types of people; some people, like your father and-" you stop, not even wanting to approach the subject. "...your father is going to be a King someday. You, well, you are a Princess." She smiles and nods as if this is already a known fact to her.

"Then, there are people like me. I'm just... well, I'm me." You shrug. "I'm just a fae like anyone else." Riley frowns.

"You are a Princess too," she says, and you chuckle.

"No, Riley, only when we play dress up and I borrow one of your crowns. You are the Princess in real life." She stands, her hands on her hips.

"Y/N is a Princess," she says, looking at you eye-to eye. You raise your eyebrows, not knowing where this is going.

"Riley-"

"Princess lives in the castle." Riley says, beginning to jump up and down. You nod, reaching up to turn off the stovetop heat under your surely burnt soup.

"Yes, but-"

"You live in here with me!" She squeals, twirling in circles. You shake your head.

"Riley, I only live here because your dad asked me to move in-"

"Y/N is a Princess! Y/N is a Princess!" She starts chanting. You sigh, making to stand and remove the soup pot from the stove.

"Riley, you are the Princess! There's only one Princess!" You say loudly over her shouting, and she stills, her devilish grin only cause for concern.

"Then... Y/N is a Queen." Riley gasps, her little hand flying to her mouth as though she's just thought of the greatest idea in the world.

"Y/N is the Queen! In a castle! With the Princess! Is me! and, and, and daddy! he's, he's-" she pauses her jumping and chanting, her hand splayed on the wall to catch her breath.

"Ohmygosh I have to go draw-"

"Ohhh no ya don't," you say, setting down her bowl of soup on the table in front of her and plopping her into her chair before she could take off down the hallway. "Dinner first, young lady."

She groans, quickly shoveling soup into her mouth. "Ughhh, okay, fine." She grins, looking sidelong at you. "I will eat your delicious soup, my Queen," she says in a silly victorian accent, and you let out a laugh at her rediculousness. She giggles too, continuing her comedy. "I will eat, and eat and eat, I will eat because I am a Princess, and you are a Queen, and soon, the King will be home, and we won't tell him about the cookie-"

The two of you are too busy giggling furiously over her sillyness that you don't hear the front door swing open, or the footsteps leading inside. It's only when you hear his whiskey-smooth voice that you turn from the dining table, your face flushing at the sight before you. Much to your delighted surprise, the handsome red headed male leaned against the dining room archway had arrived home much earlier today than either of you had expected.

His small smile was his only greeting, his tousled locks and few undone buttons revealing the exhausting day he'd surely had before he said; "I wasn't aware that I had a Princess and a Queen dining at my table tonight?"

:* ✧･ﾟ: *

[lelengerine]

pairing. sohee x reader

synopsis. it’s difficult to keep your feelings to yourself, especially when it starts ticking like a bomb that's ready to explode any minute

genre. royalty au? (more like dukedom…), wonbin is reader’s older brother, insecurities on being less favored, reader is described to be fem-bodied however there’s no specific pronouns mentioned, a lot of pining, mentions of food, lmk if anything else was missed <3

wc. 2.3k words

notes. have a small sohee oneshot because i wrote this after seeing him live and he was so good like ahhh i love him sm sm i could ramble about him all day TT likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

one step.

two steps.

three steps.

the echo of your heels clattering against the polished marble of your chambers filled the air as you paced back and forth, your hair slightly damp from the bath you had just taken, and your corset still unfastened at the waist. despite the myriad tasks that awaited you in preparation for the evening, an unmistakable restlessness gripped you. the dinner that loomed ahead was no ordinary family gathering. no, this was something far more significant—at least, to you.

tonight, you were to dine with the lees.

the lees were esteemed members of society, the custodians of one of the rare grand dukedoms in the kingdom—the only other belonging to your family—thus, it came as no surprise to anyone that your estates were nestled side by side. though the vast expanses of land surrounding each manor often made them feel worlds apart, this proximity led to spontaneous invitations like the one extended to your parents earlier that day.

nervousness always accompanied your encounters with the lees, not because of unfamiliarity, but quite the contrary. they welcomed you warmly whenever you visited, their kindness unwavering. you held their family in high regard, but a certain kind of affection lingered in your heart for their only son.

lee sohee.

your first encounter unfolded in the tulip gardens of your estate during one of your mother’s monthly tea parties. as a child, your preference laid in frolicking outdoors rather than sitting still at the adult table, sipping apple juice as they chattered on matters that did not concern you one bit. clad in a sundress made of flowy material and carrying a dainty parasol—as your mother had insisted you take with your person—you wandered off to the gardens as if it was routine.

there was a particular spot at the far end of the garden where a grand peach tree stood, and you often found solace beneath its branches. it was there you discovered him, a stray leaf caught in his hair as he slumbered in the shade. yet, as if sensing your presence, his eyes slowly fluttered open, adjusting to the light. he rubbed them gently before bestowing upon you a wide, toothy grin.

you stood captivated, unable to move at the sight before you. could someone radiate such sweetness that it sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach? your younger self would have answered an unwavering yes.

sensing your surprise, he rose gracefully and approached you. “hi, i’m lee sohee!” he said before gesturing back toward the lively party you had come from. “my mom’s attending the tea party over there—i hope i’m not intruding over here…” although you were both young, an innocent and gentle aura surrounded him, making you feel light and giddy.

“not at all,” you managed to whisper, offering a shy smile. “my mother is hosting the tea party, you see.”

“oh, so you’re one of the park children?” he exclaimed, his eyes wide and glossy with curiosity.

“yes, my brother is wonbin. though many say we don’t look much alike,” you confided softly, recalling the times your brother’s looks were praised while you stood quietly beside him during the few times you attended galas in which your whole family’s attendance was required.

“but you’re really pretty,” he blurted out, quickly covering his mouth with the palms of his hands. subsequently, his words left you flustered, your cheeks warming at the unexpected compliment. you weren’t used to such remarks. how were you supposed to respond to such praise? noticing your silence, sohee worried he might have said something he shouldn’t have. “sorry, i tend to speak my mind too often. my father says it’s a bad habit to be a blabbermouth, but—”

“thank you.” your soft reply halted his apology, and he smiled as your face brightened with a smile and light laughter bubbled forth. “no one really ever tells me that, so i truly appreciate your kind sentiment.”

from that day on, a close bond formed between you, the memory of your first meeting remaining a cherished treasure even as the years passed. you liked to think that your feelings for him had taken root since then, though the exact moment they blossomed into your consciousness was difficult to pinpoint. still, they say timing is unimportant; what mattered was the certainty of your feelings—and you were more than certain.

“y/n! mother says we ought to leave soon!” your brother’s voice seeps through the crack in your door. “please tell me you’re nearly ready.” he sounded as if he were pleading, though you knew he was simply being his dramatic self.

“just five minutes, bin! i promise!” you chuckled at your brother’s antics, rolling your eyes at him. 

“good. that’s all the time you’ll get from me anyways.”

“alright, you grumpy old man.”

“i heard that! i’m merely two years older than you are!”

if anyone were to overhear the conversation between you and your brother, they might’ve scolded you for failing to uphold the decorum expected of those in your social standing. yet, the very act of defying such constraints made your sibling bond all the more liberating. neither of you gave much thought to the rigid social hierarchy anyways, preferring the comfort of each other’s company instead.

stepping out of your room, you found wonbin waiting, his arm offered for you to take. together, you made your way out of the estate, joining your parents as you headed towards sohee’s family home. the walk was far from lengthy, and soon you were a few steps before the grand entrance.

a staff member ushered you to the main dining hall, where you were guided to your seats. sohee’s family appeared shortly after, and pleasantries were exchanged among the parents, their voices filled with warmth as they caught up on each other’s lives. your eyes met sohee’s, and he gifted you that familiar smile, with a touch of boyish charm now that he’s grown older.

after greeting your parents, sohee made his way straight to you. “i missed you,” he murmured softly in your ear, his warm breath sending a gentle shiver down your spine. had it not been for the tight-knit relationship between your families, outsiders would have already put you both to shame—two diamonds of society spending time together in broad daylight without actual affirmation to be wed in the near future? the ridicule you would both receive was bound to be tremendous, and you’re not sure if sohee simply chooses for ignorance to plague him. you’re no stickler to society etiquette either, but you were still taught the ropes of how to survive the eyes of many should you be put in the spotlight nonetheless, and this was on top of the list of things you shouldn’t even have thoughts of comitting.

you could only nod, nervous about responding and fearing that your voice might betray you. “what’s with the mundane response? aren’t you glad to see your best friend?” he asked, a playful pout on his lips as he leaned on the table, resting his chin in his hand.

“no, that’s not it!” you quickly shook your head to dismiss his worries. “i missed you too, i suppose.”

“you suppose?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “would it hurt you to be direct for once?” though his tone was light-hearted, his words planted a seed of hurt and frustration within you. how could you be direct with him when you feared your tongue may accidentally slip your feelings for everyone to hear? you were only but a cherished friend whose company he enjoyed when time would allow you two to meet. how could you hope to speak the truth that lies beneath the surface when your heart yearns for more than what your words could imply?

sohee wore that familiar expression again, the same one he had when he first saw you all those years ago in the garden, standing frozen in place. “are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

“i’m fine. sorry.” your voice was barely audible, mentally chiding yourself for dampening the mood. this was precisely why you felt so nervous earlier–the last thing you wanted was to ruin dinner–and yet, here you were.

he nodded gently, choosing not to press for answers, offering you a quiet moment of understanding instead which you silently thanked him for.

the rest of the meal carried the same atmosphere, an awkward tension flooding your senses with every bite of food you took. your mind was busy with thought after thought. perhaps sohee wouldn’t like to meet with you as often anymore after your not-so-pleasing attitude tonight–you wouldn’t blame him. you’ve been nothing but tongue tied around him, not only during this specific dinner but even during the last meeting that was organized by your families as well. perhaps, after this, he would start to avoid your gatherings altogether—the very idea made your stomach churn, and the platter of food before you suddenly seemed far less appetizing than it originally was.

you abruptly stand up from your seat, surprising everyone as you politely excuse yourself from the table before rushing out to find the nearest exit.

fresh air. that’ll definitely easen up your mood, you repeatedly tell yourself as if trying to console whatever you’re feeling.

you approach a nearby balcony and decide to lean on its railings, taking in the peaceful view of sohee’s estate it offers from its height. you start feeling a little better, till you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching. you assume your brother was sent to check on you, turning on your heel. “bin, i’m alright-” oh, it wasn’t your brother. instead, it was the last person you wanted to see at the moment. 

sohee’s standing in front of you. the realization hits you a little later than you would have liked, leaving you with no room to try and escape your best friend’s clutches. “can we please talk?”

“what’s there to talk about?” this was the first time sohee had been exposed to this side of you. the you who was dismissive and gave out curt, uninterested replies. “i have nothing to explain.”

he’s a little taken aback but decides to stand his ground. “but you do. look- if it happens to be something i’ve done, then-”

“you’ve done nothing of ill interest.”

“then pray tell what’s bothering you.”

“…how would you describe someone who so desperately wishes a certain person would look their way no matter what, even for the slightest bit?” you start off, facing him properly as you try reading his reactions, “that the simplest of gestures make their heart burst out of their chest to the point the sound of their heartbeat envelops them whole like a never-ending mantra? that their thoughts are constantly filled by that certain person, whether that be in the most inconvenient times or not? that they’d pray to the gods above for an inkling of reciprocation, even if it seems almost delusional.”

“then… i’d say they’re in love.” he breathes out his answer after thinking it through and you take a deep breath in return–preparing yourself for whatever may come after your next few words.

“i suppose that means i’m in love.” and for the first time tonight, your chest feels the burden slowly lift off like it was never there in the first place–the feeling of relief slowly but surely filling the hole that was once there. “and it just so happens that the person my heart yearns for is you. i understand if you’d like to maintain a certain distance from me after this.”

his eyes grow wider as you continued on, lips parting ever so slightly as he takes in your words. it’s the first time you’ve seen him rendered speechless, by you no less, but you suppose it’s only natural after hearing someone pour their feelings onto you out of the blue. you wait for him to recollect himself, exercising patience, but your habit of biting your lower lip had sohee knowing you were sitting in a pool of nerves.

curiosity peaks his interest and before he could stop himself, he’s already asking questions with doe eyes, ones you can’t deny even if that wasn’t his intention. “...since when?” 

“i’m not exactly sure,” you admit, your cheeks puffing up as if caught in the act of a secret.

“why?”

“i just do. please don’t make me say it again,” you plead, beginning to feel as though you were under the gentle scrutiny of an inquisitor.

“this isn’t some jest, is it?”

“does everything seem like a jest to you, lee?” you respond with a soft smile, tilting your head slightly.

“no, no!” he quickly counters with a small laugh, hoping you wouldn’t misunderstand. “i just needed to be certain.”

now it’s your turn to inquire, “because?”

“so i can say with certainty that—” you place a hand over his mouth, your face blooming with a deep blush as you turn your gaze away. “don’t… my heart can’t bear to hear you say it now. i’ve already reached my limit long ago,” you murmur with a pout, slowly lowering your hand. sohee takes this as an invitation and gently places a kiss upon your lips and despite it being brief, it was enough for you to understand his intentions.

a swirl of emotions rushes through you, bubbling up like tea in a pot. “h-hey! what if someone sees?” you exclaim in panic as you struggle to process the public display of affection. sohee simply regards you with the shrug of his shoulders. “then let them see?”

“you know that’s rather taboo in our society,” you remind him, touching your lips with a finger as if still in disbelief from earlier.

sohee stifles a laugh, though it escapes him in spite of his efforts. “since when did you care about the opinions of society’s circles?”

“be quiet, you,” you scold him gently, giving his shoulder a playful punch before he pulls you into a warm embrace. for a moment, you savor his closeness, though it's short-lived as it’s just in his system to tease you further. “to think this is what made you so moody,” he murmurs, leaning toward to bury his face in the crook of your neck before you pull away with a frown–much to his dismay.

“that’s enough! we’re heading back to the dining hall,” you declare, dismissing his attempt at further affection as he whines at the loss of contact, already walking away.

“hey!” he calls after you, taking quick strides to catch up. “one more kiss before we go in?”

you only shake your head with a smile, “okay, just one kiss.”

[hometoursandotherstuff]

It's completely painted white in preparation for the new owner, but you have to see this historic octagonal house that was built in 1850 by whaling master Robert Soper, in Provincetown, MA. 6bds, 5ba, $6.1m.

It's been perfectly preserved. Look at that roof-top deck and Belvedere with a view of the Provincetown Harbor.

The property extends across the road, out to the water's edge.

It's like your own beach.

Isn't this a beautiful entrance?

It's got an open floor plan, coffered ceilings, and a light-filled living room with a pretty fireplace.

Dining area next to the fireplace.

Nice open, airy kitchen.

One of 5 baths. I like the tile- it looks like a basket weave.

There are 6 bds., and this looks like the guest suite on the main floor.

Adorable home office or craft space. It would make a wonderful little art studio, too.

Love the stairs with an original newel post and storage underneath.

Such a pretty primary bedroom.

Beautiful shower in the ensuite.

The bedrooms are so cozy. You could do a lot with them since they're blank canvases.

They all get beautiful natural sunlight.

Beadboard bath.

Oh, look at the stairs to the roof- they turn into spiral stairs. I wonder if they were always like that.

Here we are up in the Belvedere.

Isn't this wonderful?

But, that's not all this house has to offer. There's a ground level, too. There's a seating area and kitchenette.

Plus, 2 bds and a bath.

Outdoors there's a private deck.

And, a brick patio.

The home also has a lawn in the front and room for parking in the back on a 5,662 sq ft lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/74-Commercial-St-Provincetown-MA-02657/56787757_zpid/?

[heartsteellerr]

How they spend valentines with you

Content; 100% fluff, all characters are written romantically, OOC, some characters are written short based on me not knowing how to type/write for them Warnings; GN reader Characters; EVERYONE (Heartsteel, KDA, True Damage)

Indoor dates; Aphelios, Akali, Senna, Yasuo

They choose to spend their valentines day with you indoors; either because they simply prefer it that way, or just want to spend it alone with you ⎯ away from the eyes of onlookers who are desperate for gossip.

Aphelios and Yasuo are introverts at heart, so being away from people is like a blessing to them both. How they'd choose to spend the day with you depends on the current mood they're feeling, for example: wanting to do something that doesn't require much work like watching a movie is one of the go-to's he'd do for valentines. Or on the more rarer occasions where he's wanting to feel genuine and sincere, he'd take some time off idol work to compose a personal song for you ⎯ one that isn't technically sung by him (most likely asked one of their members to sing in his steed) but can be used for karaoke, or background music during dinner.

Akali and Senna are the same as the other two ⎯ both being introverted but also not really? In the pre-tense of it she simply has a hard time getting along with people but would put up some sort of effort when it comes to you. However on this day, she'd much prefer to spend it alone with you. The list on what you would do with her varies on the basics of what most couples do on this day: movies, snacks, dinner, etc. I feel like in a way, Akali would want to spend valentines like how regular couples would ⎯ setting aside her role as an idol.

Outdoor dates; Kayn, Sett, K'Sante, Evelynn, Kai'Sa, Ekko

Kayn and K'sante are the types who'd want to make this day as memorable as he can for you; spending however much money he can offer to spoil you for the whole day. Though I can only imagine for Kayn he'd chooses to spend his money on bringing you to a concert that both you and him have been waiting to attend, whereas for K'Sante he's the type that'll carry all the bags you've bought and take you to a fancy restaurant to dine in.

^ You can also say this would be something Evelynn would also do for you, in terms of taking you out and spoiling you, then bringing you somewhere fancy. She has the power to do so, so why not use it to her advantage, no? At the end of it all you'd both be sitting in a high view building, watching as the city lights coat the streets before calling it a night with sweet kisses and longing words to each other.

^^ Kai'sa somewhat doing the same as what Kayn did, however, instead of just attending 'a' concert ⎯ she'd be giving you tickets to hers and her group's concert instead (i'm sorry idrk how to write for her)

Sett on the other hand is taking you on a walk. Yes, a walk. Varying between places like parks or a walk down the streets ⎯ to taking you on a hiking trip to the mountains. Of course he isn't gonna force you to keep climbing when you're getting tired, but instead of taking a break by sitting down somewhere, he'd continue the walk with you on his back or shoulders. To him it's a win-win situation: You get to rest for a bit, while he continues to walk and show you the amazing view of the place AND technically speaking, this would count as a workout for him, right? I will say at the end of it all, he'd have at least one or two things prepared when the walk is over (your gift).

Ekko is a man who's lived in the street since he was a kid; dealing with hardships and whatnot through out his life already, he'd hope to at least spend one of these days, this day in particular, where he can spend money on you. That's his wish, and with the amount he earns as a Idol ⎯ well, i guess you can say a part of his wish did come true.

A mix between both; Ezreal, Yone, Ahri, Qiyana

In the case of becoming hit stars, and especially being the fans' faves; Ezreal and Yone's schedule are so packed, they have to plan their valentines day to be both indoors and outdoors. For Yone it'd be indoors > outdoors, starting his valetines indoors first because there were still some things he needed to check over before going outdoors with you to spend the rest of your valentines day with him. Ezreal's valentines, however, started off with an outdoor date in mind but then switched to indoors the moment fans caught sight of him and he had to cancel it all ⎯ making him somewhat depressed for the most part because he tried so hard to make this day perfect for you both, but seeing as it was still a day you can spend together, outdoors or not, he's happy as long as he's with you.

^ The same can be said for Ahri, she has plenty of fans who'd want to talk and take pictures of her when she's outside so the outdoor date she had in mind suddenly turned indoor the moment fans caught wind of her activities.

^ As for Qiyana, it'd be similar to Yone but not exactly ⎯ she'd want to spend the day resting a bit longer in bed with you during the start of the day and then spend the rest outdoors; via going to a club or a bar.

[episims]

Foxfire ROS

After playing Foxfire for 9 rounds I've started to feel like I could use something to nudge me out of my routines a bit! For the next round, I'm going to try how adding random scenarios to the mix feels like 😁

I didn't find any existing scenario lists to be exactly what I wanted: more gameplay prompts that leave room for interpretation, and not so many strict rules or tasks or forced drama (my sims create enough of that as it is lol).

So I cherry-picked some scenarios that I liked, edited others, and created many new ones. A shout-out to @kayleigh-83 for this list that was a great starting point!

Night out: Visit a community lot after dark.

Bring your own basket: Visit a park with family or friends.

Movie marathon: Invite friends over for movies and snacks, or go on a movie binge by yourself.

Family matters: Invite over a relative or someone you share a similar bond with.

Fits like a glove: Wear a new accessory.

Games night: Set up a board game or fire up a console for an evening. PC owners can throw a lan party.

Burn off steam: Devote a day to exercising in any form.

Playing hooky: A child or teen skips one school day.

Online friends: Spend an evening chatting over the internet.

Fence-mending: Talk to a walkby you don't know or have a low relationship with.

Fertile ground: Get a new plant to your garden or other outdoor area.

Pulling strings: Use influence to your advantage.

Tired of cooking: Order delivery for a meal.

Peculiar flavor: The sim with the least cooking points takes the cooking turn.

Sprucing up: Choose a room or space and give it a facelift.

Touch base: Call the friend you currently have the lowest relationship score with.

Dine out: Eat at a restaurant.

New hobby: Try out a hobby you haven't explored before.

Broken record: Talk about your favorite hobby to every sim you encounter during one day.

Slumber party: Invite friends for a sleepover.

Power outage: Turn off all the lights except for candles and only make uncooked meals for a day.

Cloud over a head: Argue with every sim you encounter during one day.

Old gang: Meet up with the friends you have known for the longest.

Turn up the heat: Woohoo in public.

New ink: Get a tattoo.

Fresh air: Spend a day outdoors.

Homebody: Spend a day indoors.

Got the moves: Visit a community lot to hit the dance floor or turn on a stereo at home and dance until you run out of energy.

Make the bed: Change sheets for all beds on the lot.

Health concerns: Visit or call over a doctor.

All things are transient: Sell three objects.

Odd bottle: Consume a potion from your inventory.

Dig it: Spend a day treasure hunting.

Capture it: Take a picture and hang it on the wall.

Running on fumes: Have a cup of coffee once every few hours.

Reaching enlightenment: Meditate for a day.

Sugar rush: Prepare only desserts for a day.

Clocking extra time: Spend an evening on a computer either blogging, writing, or giving financial advice.

Dressed to the nines: Go on a date in formalwear.

Pretty lights: The outdoor areas of the lot are filled with fireflies for the round.

School assignment: A child or teen collects bugs for the round.

Stealing the show: Perform with an instrument or a microphone, freestyle for tips, or breakdance in public.

Devil on a shoulder: Prank every sim you encounter during one day.

Turning the page: Negative relationship effects are reduced for 48 hours and any existing fury states are cleared (get the 'forgiving' vacation benefit).

Meeting deadlines: Job performance is increased for 48 hours (get the 'industrious' vacation benefit).

Hot stuff: The attractiveness is increased for 48 hours (get the 'je ne sais quoi' vacation benefit).

On the ball: Skill, talent badge, and homework rates are increased for 48 hours (get the 'refreshed' vacation benefit).

Scatterbrained: Skill, talent badge, and homework rates are decreased for 48 hours (get the 'jetlagged' vacation penalty).

Bonfire night: Light up a bonfire with family or with friends.

Explosive entertainment: Throw a party with fireworks.

By example: Share hobby tips or instruct someone in a hobby, or find a sim who can share tips or instruct you in one.

Score points: Visit a community lot to play arcade games, poker, don't wake the llama, mahjong, or myshuno.

Self-care: Skilling is forbidden for a day. Instead, practice recovering activities like taking bubble baths, enjoying hot tubs or hot springs, getting massages, relaxing in saunas, or sunbathing.

Feeling chipper: Compliment every sim you encounter during one day.

I'll probably add these whenever I come up with new ones. Scenario ideas are welcome!

[fanaticsnail]

Waltz

Song Reference: Indila - Love Story (English Lyrics)

Word Count: 4,400+

Masterlist here, Dance Series synopsis here.

Themes: hurt/comfort, dancing, cuddling, pining, angst

“One, two, three, one, two, three- Ouch Luffy, that was my foot!” your voice echoed above deck, a slow tune reverberating from a large mouth of the gramophone trumpet with a tri-fold beat.

“Square your shoulders,” Nami ordered, her voice commanding with a small amount of humourous disinterest at the display, “raise up your elbow.”

You two had been at this for little under an hour, listening to the same song on the gramophone repetitively as you attempted to teach Luffy some classic ballroom steps.

“Why don’t you give it a go, Nami?” you sighed while breaking your arms away from their current position; reclaiming your left hand from within Luffy’s right, and your right hand from his shoulder. Although it was not proper dance etiquette for a woman to lead this style of dance with a male partner, you thought it would be a wise choice; considering he had never danced this style before.

“Absolutely not,” she half-chuckled, reclining her back against the wooden steps leading to the navigator’s position.

Zoro was laying down on a wooden pew, resting his eyes with his swords laying perpendicular to him on the floor. Usopp stood against the wooden wall of the ship, his eyes full of humour at your prior methodological dance technique with your Captain.

Holding a large, steaming plate balanced atop his hands; Sanji emerged from within the kitchens; declaring: “time for a break, come and get it.” His smile as he presented the food was contagious, proud of his dish and so eager to present it to his crew.

Luffy immediately perked up and sprinted to the outdoor dining table, plonking himself at the head and awaiting the food to be placed down in front of him. Sighing again, you shook your head and went to stifle the machine by releasing the needle-point from the record.

“That’s better,” Zoro sighed in slight relief as he moved to bring himself to the table, “if I had to listen to that song one more time, I would’ve thrown myself overboard.”

“Agreed,” you uttered, dragging your right hand over your head and soothing your brows with your thumb and index finger. You shook your shoulders, followed by your hands as you brought them down. Clicking out your neck and swinging your arms out to break away from your rut, you turned to smile warmly at your crew as they began to eat the food Sanji had prepared for them.

Before you made to take a step over, you began to roll out your ankles, starting at your left foot before raising your other.

“Remind me again why none of you know how to dance?” you chuckled to yourself while stretching, “it’s an important skill, especially as a negotiation aid for the upper class.”

Nami rolled her eyes before reaching for a small slice of bread to accompany the seafood Sanji had so dutifully prepared for the past few hours. Luffy was too preoccupied by bringing as much food into his mouth to pay heed to your words. Usopp laughed at your expression while Zoro continued to remain unamused as he reluctantly released a sigh of enjoyment as he tasted the seafood.

Sanji’s eyes darkened a little at your comment, pausing his next action of ladling some of the tomato stock braised mussels into a bowl. His hair shrouded his expression from the view of his crew as you walked over to the troop. You noticed the tension resonating around Sanji, prompting you to reach your hand up to soothe gently over his shoulders.

“Are you ok, Chef?” you asked him softly, turning your face away from the others to single out Sanji in front of the others. He tilted his head back to pull the hair away from his eyes and put a forced smile on his face as he nodded at you, continuing his ladling.

Reaching out the freshly filled bowl, he gestured for you to take it from his hands and into your own; uttering: “for you, love.”

You furrowed your brows and flickered your eyes to search his eyes for reason for his earlier apprehension, prompting him to sigh before a true smile appeared; his eyes softening under your inspection. Taking the bowl from his hands, you made to move your hand over to the outdoor chair to remove it from its position against the table. Before you had the opportunity, the chair had been moved outwards by the blonde chef to make way for you to sit atop the stool.

“A gentleman as always, Sanji,” you cooed at your crewmate, accepting his gesture and sitting down at the table.

“Only for you,” he smiled before looking to Nami, “and you, of course, Nami.”

Nami again rolled her eyes for seemingly the hundredth time in the span of an hour, this time the object of her displeasure being the chef instead of you. You giggled at her reaction before turning your attention to the retreating form of Sanji as he made to make a plate for himself from the range of seafood he had prepared.

You took the time to study him; from the way his arms moved beneath his half-rolled shirt sleeves to the way he expertly maneuvered his body around the table to retrieve his desired dish. You narrowed your eyes at him, furrowing your brows in deep thought.

Trailing him the entire duration he selected different samples of food onto his plate, your gaze held firm until he took a seat at the end of the table; directly next to you. He smiled at you, before noticing you hadn’t touched your plate and his head tilted to the side.

“You don’t like seafood?” he asked, nodding his head to the dish in front of you. You pushed the bowl of mussels to the side for a moment and leaned towards him; your elbows falling to the wooden counter top as your right hand cradled your chin within its palm.

“You dance, don’t you?” you narrowed your eyes further, accusing him with your knowing gaze while completely disregarding his prior question regarding your meal. His eyes widened a little before a broad smile fell over his face.

“Are you asking me to dance?” he taunted as he leant in a little towards you, quirking an eyebrow upwards at the suggestion. You softened your hard gaze slightly, a smirk pulling at your lips as you continued to lean towards him; releasing your chin from your hand and leaning fully into him. You traced your gaze over his shoulders and chest, noting the way he held himself in perfect posture.

“How many styles can you do?” you questioned him, bringing your face closer to his own while your eyes widened in complete joy. He chuckled and leaned himself closer to you, spooning some of the jus from the mussel dish between his lips; prompting your gaze to flitter down to watch his mouth claim the spoon. A small piece of metal flickered slightly in the light beneath his tongue as he trapped the object between his lips, removing the spoon; now empty from the stock.

A small blush rose to your cheeks as he playfully quirked his brow upwards at catching you studying his lips.

Although nothing untoward had happened between you both, you could always find yourself returning Sanji’s flirtations specifically because you found it fun to do so. It had been difficult to find entertainment as you flittered from port to port; the only joy you truly found aboard is the splashes from the wildlife below the ocean, the subtle shift in waves clapping against the stern, or interacting with your crew mates.

Sanji has always been a curiosity to you; the disclosure of his tragic past while stranded on a rock with Red-Leg Zeff had peaked your interest in him. You continued to study his features, noticing his charming smile remaining on you as you did so.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, nodding his chin back down towards the dish you cast aside, “you finish that first, then I’ll waltz with you.”

Your eyes widened in glee, keeping your eyes on Sanji’s as he laughed at you, “that’s what you were doing, right? Waltzing?”

You nodded profusely, retracting from your prior position and resting your back against the chair as you placed the bowl in front of you once again. Sanji chuckled and brought his spoon back into his bowl and fished out the shell of a mussel.

“One condition, though,” he smirked, raising the shellfish to his lips and placing the small piece within them. You watched him in anticipation of his conditions, eyes again trailing to his lips as you watched him flick his tongue over the shell and retrieve the meat before casting aside the empty shell.

“And what might that be, Sanji?” you asked him, breath hitching slightly as you said his name.

 He chuckled as he swallowed the meat, tilting his head backwards to shift his hair from shrouding his eyes; “I get to pick the music.”

You smiled as you reached your hand out as an indication to seal your accord with a shake. He looked down at your outstretched right hand before reaching his own out to clasp your fingers within his own, turning your palm towards the floor as he gently raised your knuckles to brush against his lips.

“We have a bargain,” he whispered against your knuckles with a playful grin, releasing your hand to return back towards your meal. A warm blush rose itself to your chest, prompting you to quickly stifle it with a shake of your head.

Trying as you might to stifle your hastiness to finish the meal in front of you as quickly as possible, your thoughts became overwhelmed with anticipation at the prospect of classically dancing with someone who knew how: not someone you had to actively teach to do so. A quiet moan released itself at the flavour of the meal Sanji prepared, prompting him to bring his gaze back to you; a small blush creeping up his neck and cheeks at your reaction to the meal with a sense of pride at the fact he was the one brought that sound from your lips.

Luffy continued to wholeheartedly consume the majority of the contents atop the table, leaving a trail of: husks of corn, discarded shells from the shellfish and completely drained jus from the pot Sanji had prepared the products in. You shook your head at a story Usopp was relaying, lips pulling to the side in amusement at the utter nonsensical nature of the tall tale as laughter resounded throughout the crew.

As the family meal came to a close; Sanji began stacking plates and bowls within themselves to ensure ease in carrying them from above deck to the kitchens.

“Leave it, love,” you said to him, gesturing your right hand out to halt his actions, “you go get your music and I’ll wash up.”

He looked down at your hand before turning back to meet your gaze with a warm smile. You stood to your feet and reached out both arms to claim the dishes from within them, continuing to clear up after the lunch mess on the table and bringing it to the kitchen.

As you washed the dishes in warm, soapy water; sounds of the gramophone began to echo throughout the room, drawing your attention towards it. Shaking the bubbles from your fists as you released the plug from its socket, you wiped your hands on a tea towel to dry them before scuttling above deck.

It was there where you were welcomed with a sight of Sanji re-fastening the navy and white sleeve above his left elbow with his right hand before trailing the hand to his neck and loosening his necktie. He rolled his neck and shook the nervousness away from his hands in a swift motion while rolling out his ankles to limber himself in preparation to dance.

He turned to look at you as you approached, a smile quickly forming on his lips in acknowledgement. You noticed Nami was sitting down at the navigators post as she peered down at the deck to watch your interaction with intermediate interest. Zoro brought himself back to recline beside his swords on the large, wooden pew from earlier while Usopp manned the gramophone. Luffy plopped himself onto the floor beside Zoro, clapping his left hand over his stomach in satisfaction at his former meal while looking at your approach to Sanji with a broad smile.

“Are you ready, Mademoiselle?” Sanji asked you, bowing and extending his hand out for you to take. You smiled at him and quirked your head coyly at the side before reaching your hand out to clasp his.

“Are we thinking Viennese,” he asked you with a grin, drawing you into him and placing your left hand upwards onto his right shoulder, “or true classical?”

Your heart began racing within your chest as you processed his words, noting his stance as he reached for your right hand with his left and held your grasp.

Before you could halt the words, they slipped right out from between your lips in adoration.

“Oh, Sanji,” you gasped in a breathy sigh, “I think I’m in love with you. You have no idea.”

“The feelings mutual, Dear,” he smiled down at you, his eyes slightly closed and his nose scrunched in teasing, “now, which style?”

You could barely comprehend what he was saying to you before Usopp began cranking the handle to play the music on the gramophone. Your ear quirked up at the music choice, your brows furrowing before a wide smile appeared on your face.

“Classical, I think,” you cooed at him, eyes half lidded with a playful smile, “it’ll give Luffy something to easily understand and follow later.”

He nodded his head and you watched him begin counting behind his eyes, nodding slightly to the counts.

He sighed a long breath as he began to spin with you, using his feet to effortlessly sweep you over the deck in time to the music. A giggle of delight withdrew itself from your lips in delight as he continued to spin with you, leading you throughout the deck in a circular motion.

Closing your eyes, you focussed on the words; the language foreign to you but the emotion depicted was more than enough to move you with it. You felt him release your left shoulder and twinge his wrist to direct you in a spin before reclaiming your shoulder and drawing himself closer to you. You sighed in contentment at the fluidity of his action, noting he began to relax himself into the music and trail you on deck with ease.

Zoro peaked at you through his semi-closed right eye before shaking his head and reclosing his eyes with a smirk upon his lips. Nami leant forward on her chair, watching your fluidity in movements with more interest than she cared to truly show. Usopp and Luffy cheered at your movements, particularly the spins that Sanji made appear easy and effortless in beat.

The two of you paid them no mind as you stepped inward and outward of each other, gazing into each other’s eyes with contentment in your actions.

It felt as if you two were the only ones existing in the small world you had created for yourselves, counting ‘one-two-three’ in your minds with smiles and sighs falling between the both of you. Your breaths became one as your hearts began to beat within the same frequency; resonation to the music within your souls echoing in unison.

He released your left shoulder a second time; choosing to bring your right arm in front of your face. He held your hand above your head, with his face almost touching your own with its close proximity. He then released you fully into an outward spin, stepping swiftly behind you to collect your back against his torso while linking his left hand against your right. He spun you again to meet with him and reassumed the classical position to continue leading you through the waltz.

He brought himself closer to you and held you against him; slowing his motion to a small sway while in your arms. He released your shoulder and hand from his grip and allowed them to fall against your hips as he continued to sway, hanging his forehead against your left shoulder as you brought your arms up to lace around his neck.

The embrace felt organic and natural, you held tightly within his arms as the music continued to crescendo. Although your movements were minimal, the music continued to build upwards; prompting Sanji to release his forehead from within its current position and reclaim your waist and arm once more; this time opting for a Viennese hold; keeping his face away from your gaze and leading you with greater strides.

You kept up with his movement, allowing him to lead you throughout the movement and keeping your own face away from his. He brought you in closer to him before thrusting your body away from his in a twirl; your body deciding to complete three swift twirls away from him before you felt his arms hold firm to your hips once again. You reached your left hand upwards, caressing the left side of his face and neck as you faced away from him.

He captured your right wrist with his hand and pulled it out to the side to lay horizontally with his own before swaying the arm down; movement as fluid as the waves crashing against the wooden hull of the ship you were sailing against.

As the song began to teeter off, he turned you to face him again; your feet moving in sway with your hips as he held you against him. He released the small of your back from his grasp, feather-light touches of his fingertips against your back. He twirled you outwards one last time, releasing you fully from his grip as you came to a graceful halt facing towards him as the music teetered off to conclude your dance together.

You curtseyed low to him, him bowing to you in return before rising back up to bring his gaze to meet you. You raised your head, your eyes remaining half-lidded and slightly glazed over; barely out of breath from the prior exertion. Your heart continued to hammer in your chest as you reminisced the tenderness of his touches and subtlety in queuing you with his turns and strides.

“That was-,” you began to say to Sanji, having your words cut off by your captain loudly hollering a booming and gleeful cheer.

“-That was amazing!” He cried in glee, rising to his feet and capturing Usopp’s shoulders within his own as he embraced his torso beside himself, “I have to learn how to do that!”

Sanji placed his hands in his pant pockets and shyly smiled to the floor, his hair again falling over his eyes to shroud his irises from your view. You giggled at your captain, walking over to meet Sanji and bringing him into a warm embrace; soothing your arms over his shoulders and rubbing small circles into his skin.

He retracted his hands from his pockets and laced them around your back, pulling you closer into him as you felt him sigh against you.

“Thank you, Sanji,” you whispered into his ear before pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek. You brought your lips away from your crewmen’s cheek and scrunched your nose at him in teasing.

He mimicked your expression, almost overdoing the nose-scrunch to mock you. You playfully tapped your right hand against his left shoulder to chastise his teasing before lacing it around his neck once more.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” you uttered, floating your gaze between each of his eyes, “you made me feel like a princess.”

You giggled at your own comment, halting as you witnessed his playfulness flee completely from his face.

“I’m sorry, Sanji,” you quickly corrected yourself, bringing your right hand to rest against his left cheek, “it wasn’t meant as an insult. You just dance like a royal, is all.”

Your words of praise and reassurance continued to fall from your lips, which in turn continued to unintentionally darken Sanji’s gaze as he turned away from you. He reluctantly pulled himself from your playful embrace, a small smile toying at the side of his lips as he again nodded his head to you.

“I’m sorry-,” you began to say, your words being halted by the blonde chef in front of you.

“-Any time you wish to dance,” he smiled, bowing his head to the floor, “all you need to do is ask, and I’ll twirl you to your hearts content, Mademoiselle.”

He rose from his bow and turned away from you, swiftly walking toward the kitchen and away from the crew above deck without another word. Your jaw began to slack, your mouth slightly ajar as you followed his retreating form with your eyes.

“Was it-,” you started, turning to the captain and shaking your head with furrowed brows, “-was it something I said?”

Luffy shrugged with his arms out to the side, with a quick: “beats me?”

You hummed, creasing your brows further and turning back toward the kitchen. You huffed out a quick breath, hardening your resolve and trailing after him toward the kitchen.

Once there, you noticed Sanji hunched over the sink; his hands resting either side of the countertop and his face fully turned from you. His shoulders seemed to be shaking slightly as his knuckles turned white in his firm grip. His breathing was rapid and intense in emotion, seemingly panicked and weighed down with an aura of anxiety.

“-Sanji?” you cautiously whispered in your approach, holding out your hands defensively.

His body stiffened at your addressal, his right hand reaching up from the counter to cover his lips; stifling a sound being released from it. You continued your approach of him, cautious and slow in your movements to not stifle him.

“Honey, are you okay?” you asked him, reaching your hand up to his shoulders. Hesitating slightly before your brought your hand upon his back and creasing your brows in thought, you decisively pressed on; bringing your hand to rest against his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” you said to him once more, not truly understanding where this emotion he was experiencing originated from; but wanting to support and reaffirm him never the less.

You watched his breathing continue in its rapidity, prompting you to ask: “would you prefer to be alone-.”

“-Please stay,” his words hurriedly expelled themselves from his throat before his mind could truly keep up with them. You brought your body beside his, your eyes being drawn to his frantic expression.

You immediately drew him into you, pulling his shoulders against your own and soothing him with your actions and a verbal: “shushing” sound. He wrapped his arms around your waist once again and buried his eyes into your neck, allowing him to fully express his pent up emotion as he began sobbing into your neck.

Wordlessly, you held him to you as you both sunk to the ground beside the sink and countertop; you holding him against you and rubbing a horizontal stripe back and forth between his shoulder blades.

His sobs began to teeter off as a sigh was released from his lungs against your shoulder. You brought your hands up to lace them within his blonde locks, massaging his scalp while cradling him against you. He inhaled a shaken breath before releasing it slowly, pressing a small kiss against your shoulder while steadying himself.

Bringing his face away from your shoulder, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his right forearm to clear it from any remanence of the prior release of emotion.

“I’m sorry, love,” he chuckled, releasing his eyes from his forearm and meeting his eyes with your own, “I’m not really sure what came over me.”

He brought a false smile against his lips, more so to encourage positivity and reassurance to himself rather than to you. You brought your left hand to rest against his cheek, prompting him to lean his face into your touch and close his eyes against it.

“Sanji,” you whispered softly, bringing his attention back to you through reopening his eyes, “I’m sorry. Whatever darkness that brought this on, I’m truly sorry.”

“No apology necessary, love,” he chuckled, leaning his lips into your palm and pressing a small kiss into it, “it’s not your burden to bare.”

You watched as his face became sorrowful, a smile continuing to tug at his lips as he shut his eyes once more into your touch.

“This was meant to be a fun exercise,” you chuckled darkly, bringing his gaze back to you.

He released you from his embrace and grasped your left wrist that was holding his cheek within his right, turning your hand over in his grasp to press his lips against your knuckles.

“It was, love,” he reassured you with a small chuckle, “I just got in my own head, is all.”

Your expression softened only slightly under his confession, noting there was only a half-truth within you discerning his words. It was only then you truly noted your proximity with the chef: your legs both splayed out against each other, arms entangled within your bodies to hold you closely together.

As that knowledge eclipsed your thoughts, a deep and fiery blush crept up your chest, your cheeks and tips of your ears. Your breath caught in your throat, alerting Sanji to your current predicament: his face immediately mimicking your own. Although you both became slightly embarrassed at your current position, neither of you made to flee from the arms of one another.

“I-I,” Sanji began falling over his words, not really making much sense within his own mind to relay any clear intentions to you. His stuttering prompted you to begin an uncomfortable giggle; bringing a small smile to Sanji as he began a laugh of his own. Both of your chests began to chortle, as a rich and contagious laugher fell between you both; as you continued to hold to one another.

Both of you began to teeter away from your laughter as you drew your body in to lace around Sanji’s neck once more, bringing him to you in an embrace on the kitchen floor. He returned your actions, again lacing his arms around your waist and nuzzling his chin into your neck; inhaling and exhaling in comfort and relief.

“Thank you again,” you uttered into his hair as you turned slightly into him, “for the dance, I mean.”

“Any time,” he repeated into your neck, pressing his lips against your sensitive skin, “my dancing skills are at your beck and call.”

[eggluverz]

A STARE WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS

PAIRING. dan feng x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 1.4k

SUMMARY. you and dan feng were just friends. close comrades who challenged each other. but you were starting to suspect that just friends don't stare at each other like this...

NOTE: dan feng on the brain !!!! i was looking thru some writing prompts and there was a list of friends to lovers that inspired meeee :> i hope y'all enjoy this lil dan feng drabble!! :o ~sof

It wasn’t always easy being a friend of the esteemed High Cloud Quintet, but it sure was fun. In a group of warriors and leaders, some of your morals seemed to go against the grain. With your more pacifist approach, you preferred healing and mediating disagreements rather than resorting to a clash of the swords.

Still, you were not young with folly such as before. You understood there was a time and place for everything and, sometimes, war was inevitable in this world. You could only sigh to yourself, wishing it weren’t so.

But while battles waged on, you at least wanted to help those wounded trying to fight for what was right—no matter how misguided you thought their approach was.

Dan Feng was someone you chose to confide in. The great warrior, the Imbibitor Lunae, somehow empathized with your inner conflicts more than you would have expected him to. He may have been a cutthroat, fearless leader, but he was also gentle and thoughtful, pondering whether or not the ends truly justified the means in between brutal battles. 

The people he led could never see that ever-questioning side of him. Nor could he ever find the vulnerability to show them. That was something he reserved only for the closest of friends. 

That was something he reserved only for you. 

You let out a deep breath after a long day of work, smiling only to greet Dan Feng who had asked you to meet up with him over dinner.

“Like a date,” Baiheng sang with a grin when you had told her the previous day.

Your cheeks flushed at the memory. Two friends could certainly partake in evening consumption of sustenance together without it being a date, you had reminded her. And yourself. 

“Sure, but do just friends stare into each other’s eyes for seconds too long like you two do?”

With a small laugh and a shake of your head, you brought yourself back to present time with Dan Feng.

“Good evening,” you greeted with a wave. “Have you been waiting long?”

“I have been left alone here all day waiting for your arrival,” he jested with a dramatic sigh, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards to let you know he was only joking.

“Of course,” you played along, “I do not doubt that the great Imbibitor Lunae has plenty of time to spare waiting about.”

“For you? Most certainly.” 

You fought a grin off your face at his kindness. Dan Feng truly was a good person, always putting his friends first. For a moment, you wondered how much more thoughtful he would be towards a partner—towards someone he had romantic feelings for. But you did not allow yourself to entertain those thoughts for too long. After all, you had food to eat. 

“I requested your favorite dish,” he said as the meal came to your table. Establishments in which private outdoor dining was an accommodation were not common in your area, so you and Dan Feng often frequented the one closest to you. It was no strange feat for him to commit your favorite dish to memory. “I hope I did not overstep, but it was getting dark out and I know you tend to grow rather famished at this hour.”

You smiled as the scent of the food in front of you wafted through the air, causing your stomach to grumble quietly. “I appreciate your preparation, Dan Feng. You aren’t overstepping in the slightest.”

In fact, you quite liked that Dan Feng went out of his way to ensure you would have food to eat by the time you arrived for dinner. He was right— You were running late today and you were rather peckish by the time you had arrived. It was a simple act of kindness, and you were grateful for it. 

Dan Feng really was nice to his friends. 

If you did not have a good head on your shoulders, you might have let your emotions confuse the situation and misread his intentions towards you. He simply was a good friend to you and the High Cloud Quintet, though in moments of delusion you felt yourself imagining more. 

Especially moments of delusion fueled by the unnerving stare on his face directed right at you. Unnerving in a positive sense, of course. 

Unnerving in a way of not being able to understand the depth of emotions behind those bright eyes of his. Unnerving enough to pique your curiosity and want to learn just what that stare meant. 

The certain stare he was giving you right now. 

Was he looking at you like a confidant? A scholar to share his pacifist literature with? A friend? A lover? 

If Dan Feng noticed your inner turmoil, all he did was smile. It was a smile that said he knew exactly what was running through your mind. His piercing gaze stayed locked on yours as he tilted his head and took a sip of tea. 

Unable to help yourself, you blurted, “Do you intend to look at me in such a way?”

An expression of delighted amusement formed on his face before he regained his stoic composure. “In what manner are you referring to, my dear?”

Your heart stirred in confusion at his affectionate words. This High Elder truly had a disarming effect on you.

“Such as how you are staring at me right now!” you cried, feeling rather indignant. “It is how you’ve been staring at me for the past few months, even. It— It bewilders me!”

“And how, exactly, am I staring at you?” he pushed, a confident smile on his lips as he awaited your answer. 

“You are staring at me…as if you want me.”

His eyes widened for a brief moment, like he was shocked you gave in to his teasing and prodding this time. 

“You keep staring at me like that, and treating me in a special manner… You should be careful, Dan Feng,” you said with a sigh, slowly bringing your utensils to your mouth. Before biting, you stated, “You could confuse even the most refined of individuals that way, are you aware?”

He studied you before asking, “As an esteemed and refined Vidyadhara yourself, what do you find confusing?”

“Whether I am reading your intentions incorrectly or not,” you said, no longer bothering to hide you frustration. 

“It is not my desire to confuse you,” promised Dan Feng, a genuine look on his face as you finally met his gaze again. “For that, I apologize sincerely.”

Your stomach churned in dejected understanding. “Thank you for the apologize. It is okay.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t have gotten ahead of yourself and confused his kindness for interest. You shoved the food around on your plate, trying to downplay your disappointment that Dan Feng did not desire you after all.

At your lackluster response, he cleared his throat. He looked at your downcast expression and frowned. “Perhaps I am not making myself clear enough. Believe me, you are certainly not misinterpreting my intentions.”

Your eyes widened at his clarification. “Meaning…?”

“I do want you.” Dan Feng set his teacup down with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “I admire your strength and your intellect. Your desire for peace and your willingness to do what is right. You are nuanced and complex and, at times, even oblivious,” he smiled at the thought of you misunderstanding his initial confession, “and you are my close friend I have found myself getting more and more drawn to.”

Giggles bubbled up from inside you, more so in excitement than in amusement. If it weren’t unbecoming of an unpartnered Vidyadhara to show public displays of affection, you would have ran over to Dan Feng and given him a hug by now. 

“I want you, too, Dan Feng,” is what you said instead. “You are cunning and sharp, yet understanding and gentle. Your thoughtfulness is inspiring and I have never met anyone more loyal than you.” 

The apples of his cheeks tinged the lightest pink you had ever seen, and you fought the urge to continuously shower him with more compliments.

“You’re the only one I could confide my potentially treasonous thoughts in,” you laughed while he nodded with amusement. Your gaze softened as your tone grew more serious. “You are one of my best friends, but I can envision a road in which we are more than that, even— Lovers.”

If he was surprised at all, he did not show it. 

“That is the path I would prefer to take.” Dan Feng extended his hand from across the table as if it were a mere offering to your boundless grace. “Do you desire to take it with me?”

“With you?” you repeated, slipping your hand into his with a smile. “Most certainly.”

[obey-my-wishes]

MC Changes Back

A/N: This has been on my mind for a little while. It's just taken time for me to find the motivation to write it 😅

Warnings: not proof-read; maybe a hint of suggestive content

-----

The morning had arrived at the House of Lamentation. As it was a weekend, most of the inhabitants took it as a chance to remain in bed for those extra hours. After all, no RAD meant no need to be awake at a specific time.

Lucifer had already started his morning. After making his rounds, silently checking on his brothers, the eldest had ventured to get the first coffee of the day. He took the peaceful moment to check his D.D.D for any news that may require his attention, before taking his mug to his study. The paperwork wasn't going to sign itself after all.

Satan had been the next of the house to disturb the peace. He was thankful that nobody was around as the demon had never been a morning person. With a yawn, the blond plodded his way to the kitchen to brew himself some tea. Satan had planned to take refuge in the library for the day, wanting to finish the series that MC had lent him. He hoped to finish it by the end of the day, so he grabbed his tea and started his plans.

The other brothers had yet to make an appearance out of their rooms when MC had awoken. Stretching, they hadn't realised how their arms seemed to reach higher than usual. With sleep-filled eyes, MC went to start their morning routine before leaving their room. It was only as they passed the full body mirror they had, that they realised something was different. Rubbing at their eyes, they finally realised what had happened.

They were back in their human form.

Their reflection confirmed as much. Instead of the fluffy pink sheep that they had been before falling asleep, a human stared back. MC was thankful when noticing that they were dressed in the clothes they were summoned in. Everything was the same actually, from their bedhead down to their slippers on their feet. Maybe they would have to ask the brothers about getting outdoor shoes, but that could wait. They smiled softly to themselves before resuming their morning routine, a skip in their step.

They couldn't help but wonder how the brothers will react to this transformation.

---

Lucifer

You had decided to bring the eldest brother a cup of his favourite coffee, an excitement that you didn't have to try and balance it blooming in your chest. Having two hands was much more convenient compared to the stubby hooves.

Lucifer heard the knock, calling for whoever it was to enter. It took the coffee mug being placed besides a stack of documents for him to look up with a soft smile. That had quickly changed to a look of surprise when he saw what had happened.

Instead of the usual fluffy MC greeting him, a beautiful human grinned down at him. Everything about you was mesmerising for the eldest brother. He felt unable to look away as his ruby eyes scanned your figure.

"MC..." He reached out to grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. Work can wait for a while, right? "How about you show me what you can do with this body, hm~?"

Mammon

Mammon had finally decided to wake up and go in search for breakfast. His head was trying to form a plan for the day as he entered, making it so he didn't notice you sitting at the table already.

Grabbing a pot of his favourite ramen, the demon moved around the kitchen to prepare the unconventional breakfast. It was as he walked over to the dining table that the second-born noticed you.

Mammon had to double take, his mouth hanging open in shock. In fact, the demon had almost spilt his ramen on the floor when he caught sight of you. Cheeks hot and no doubt reddened, the Great Mammon quickly placed the pot on the table before trying to act cool.

You simply watched in amusement as the demon raked his eyes over your figure (or what he could see of it). He couldn't believe how attractive you were, so used to seeing the pink wool of your sheep form. You couldn't stop your own cheeks from blooming a soft pink at how he stared at you like you were a goddess, which you were to him.

"Y-You look good..." Mammon tried to hide the lower half of his face behind his hand.

Leviathan

You had agreed to an anime marathon with the third born, a mix of your favourite human world anime and his favourite Devildom anime. Levi had been talking about it nonstop over the course of the week, even ordering snacks from Akuzon so neither of you had to leave the room.

Levi was busy sorting out the setup when you knocked his door. With the password recited, you entered the room to find his back towards you. Leviathan called over that you should get settled on the cushions he placed in a pile.

What Levi had expected to see when he turned back around was the cute pink sheep MC cuddled up into the pillows. Instead, what greeted him was a human clutching one of the pillows to their chest, a soft smile on their face.

It took a few seconds for the otaku to process the information. But once he had, his face combusted a bright red and he began to ramble something about 'heart damage', 'gorgeous human', and 'how it was unfair'. You just watched in shy amusement, blushing at the gorgeous comment.

Moments passed in a blur before Levi had calmed enough to sit next to you to start the marathon. His face had yet to lose the red hue but he wasn't rambling about taking damage anymore, so progress.

"You should have warned me, MC..." Levi grumbled to himself, grabbing his Ruri body pillow. "An otaku can't take receiving this amount of damage from pretty humans..."

Satan

Satan had caught sight of your new form when he was going to refill his tea. You had been preparing yourself a hot beverage yourself when he entered. It caught him off guard, but he wasn't about to let you know that.

Recovering from the shock, the blond smirked as he approached you from behind. Where he would usually pick your tiny frame up and cradle against his chest, Satan instead wrapped his arms around your torso. He couldn't help the chuckle that left when you jumped from the contact.

Up close, he allowed his eyes to fully take in this new form. From being a pink sheep on arrival to Devildom, Satan would have to admit that he prefers this form much more.

"I've just finished the book you lent me," the demon seemed to purr into your ear. "How about you come and help me reenact a scene from it~"

Asmodeus

Asmo was wanting a day at a spa that had recently opened up. And who better for him to ask than MC? That is how he ended up coming across you trying to sort your hair out in your room.

Definitely the most excited to see your new form. In fact, the shock hardly registered in his mind as ideas for makeovers filled his thoughts. Asmo had already planned out a week's worth of makeovers for you when he approached.

Asmodeus found your new form just as adorable as the sheep. Maybe not as fluffy but it showed the most potential for him to uncover. The demon immediately took the brush from your hand before dragging you out of your room and towards his. His plans had suddenly changed, not that he was complaining.

"Oh, my darling MC~, we are going to get you looking almost as cute as me!" Asmo's eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked over your form again. "Now what colour would you like your nails~?"

Beelzebub

It was in the kitchen that this fateful encounter happened. Beel was looking for snacks as his stomach growled at him when you entered the room. You had decided to bake some goods that morning as you had the full use of your body again. And the timer was just about to inform you that they were done.

Beel watched you taking the treats out of the oven, his mouth watering as the scent entered his nose. He hadn't even realised that you had changed forms, too preoccupied with the freshly baked desserts. You informed him that they needed a moment to cool, but offered your pudding to the demon.

Once he had devoured the pudding, the treats had finally cooled enough to eat. Beelzebub seemed to take notice of how you weren't pink and fluffy when you placed a few of the treats on a plate for him. It didn't matter to the brother how you looked, but he would admit that he liked seeing your smile on a human face rather than a sheep.

"Your smile is beautiful in this form," Beelzebub complimented before eating the treats you offered to him.

Belphegor

Lucifer had asked you to wake the youngest up for dinner that night. Belphie had yet to leave the attic, meaning he hadn't yet seen your new form. Everyone had already gotten over the shock since then.

Belphegor woke up to the feeling of a hand stroking his hair. From the lack of hoof, he had believed that Beel must have come to wake him in an unusual manner. Cracking his eyes open, he believed he must still be dreaming when he saw you.

You couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled from you when you saw him smile dreamily up at you, mumbling something about a beautiful angel appearing in his dreams. Belphie seemed to wake up more when you poked his cheek, a grumble being his reply.

Fully awake, Belphegor was surprised to find you weren't a dream. Instead of the usual sheep (perfect for cuddling), you were a human in appearance again. He couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at his lips as his eyes roamed your figure. Slipping an arm around your waist, you were surprised that the demon had dragged you down to the bed.

"Dinner can wait, yeah?" He hovered his body over yours as his smirk grew. "I want to feel the new you~"

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Jason Todd loves to travel to cozy forest cabin getaways with you

🍂 Especially in the middle of autumn/one the cusp of winter. A little strange, considering people usually prefer spring, summer or at least warmer months of autumn. You asked him about it once, he said it's the calmness of the forest that's preparing for winter.

Like everything's falling asleep. Calm, quiet, undisturbed by anything.

🍂 You have one place surrounded by mountains that you book year in advance and visit every year for a week. It's a long wooden hut made of layered logs with stone fireplace and terrace window overlooking nature. Nestled on the high slope right under the mountain, it offers a beautiful view of valley with river curling like a snake through the slopes and acres upon acres of ancient pine trees.

🍂 He makes sure you're stocked with everything you need. Even the things you don't need but he bought them because he knew you liked them. Your favorite coffee, dried fruits and nuts, his favorite beef jerky, soup cans, store bought dough for pizza, fresh buns and cinnamon buns, eggs for morning omelettes, pumkin spice and ingredients for simmer pot (you taught him to drink that pretty quickly).

🍂 It's that calm quiet routine he falls into wih you there that he loves the most. You wake up late, burried under the patterned blankets, to a cold autumn morning with golden-brown leaves falling behind your window. He doesn't want to let you go until you bribe him with fresh coffee. It another half an hour before you get out of bed, either talking or reading your respective books you brought with you. Then and only then, you get out of bed. Usually one makes breakfeast while other gets ready or sits at the dining table. You rarely use that table, usually taking the food either outside on the terrace, the couch or bed.

🍂 Your days are filled with hiking and walks through the wilderness. Each morning greets you with the soft light of dawn as you lace up your hiking boots, ready to explore the outdoors. The air is fresh and crisp, filled with the earthy scents of pine and wildflowers.

As you venture deeper into the wild, you find yourself surrounded by towering trees that sway gently in the breeze. You might encounter babbling brooks that meander through the landscape, their crystal-clear waters shimmering in the sunlight. With every step, you are greeted by the symphony of nature—the cheerful chirping of birds, the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush, and the distant sounds of nature that fill the air with tranquility.

Each hike offers its own unique adventure: sometimes you climb to breathtaking vistas that reveal sprawling valleys below, while other times, you wander through serene glades where wild animals may cross your path. You take the time to pause and appreciate the beauty around you, capturing moments with photographs or simply soaking in the sights and sounds.

In the evenings, as the sun sets and casts a warm glow across the horizon, you reflect on the day’s explorations, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for the connection you have with nature. Whether trekking through rugged mountain terrain or strolling along peaceful forest paths.

🍂 Unlike eating times, your walks are usually filled with peacefull silence, disturbed only by the sounds of rustling leaves, crunching of branches under your feet or animals. Speak of which, you were pretty nervous when you encountered bear or moose, but Jason assured you that as long as you don't bother them, they won't bother you. You didn't know that wolves are so much bigger that a dog until a pack of them was chilling early in the morning around your cabin.

🍂 You make sure to bring your beaten-down old camera on these trips. Because some of these breathtaking sights cannot be captured by a phone. You have tons of them with beautiful sighs of nature, that one time you decided to go up the mountain slope, and the little fox family you stumbled upon. There's also plenty of pictures of Jason, sometimes taken without his knowledge. It's a rare sight when you manage to see that expression of pure serenity on his face, let alone capture it on the camera. There's one you cherish the most. It was taken when you climbed up the hill to a clearing. The sunlight is still peeking over the mountains and is shining directly on his back. He looks to the side and light illuminates his face perfectly, tracing the lines of his face in light and shadow. Dark strands peek from underneath his beanie and his neck is buriend in the scarf you made him. A fog is rising from his lips and one green eye is cast in sunlight. In the background, a blurried out expanse of forest and mountaintops. A copy of this photo made its way to the Wayne manor.

🍂 In the evenings, you cook dinner together and then either play boardgames or, you guessed it, read some more. Jason always looks forward to cooking dinner with you. You blast music for your portable radio, you mess with each other by throwing bits of food and argue what toppings should or should not go on a pizza. You test out what board games would stand the trial on the game nights with his family and you always end with cards against humanity. Your always at disadvantage when playing Black Stories. It's not your fault you're not detective like someone.

🍂 Out of all activities, your absolute favorite undoubtedly has to be stargazing with Jason. There’s something truly magical about those nights spent together, standing under the open sky, clean of the polution of Gotham city.

In those quiet moments, as you both gaze up at the milions of twinkling lights, you feel a deep sense of peace and connection. The cool night air envelops you, and every sigh, every laugh, and every shared dream feels amplified against the backdrop of shimmering constellations. With Jason by your side, it’s not just about the beauty of the night's sky; it's about the warmth of his presence, the quiet conversations that stretch into the night, and the comfort of knowing that you’re sharing these moments with the person you love most. The stars don’t just fill the sky; they light up your hearts, creating a memories that feels timeless and everlasting.

[simmervlogs]

Hello Simmers, come and enjoy your stay at Villa Firostefani!  This build is another multi use lot.

Villa Firostefani is a family friendly restaurant and vacation spot that  is  tucked snugly along Tartosa's sunset coastline,. This location offers soft and sandy beaches to share with a lover, plus nighttime bioluminescent shores that are perfect for lighting up a romantic dip... and only a short stroll from Porto Luminoso.  This is a  family-run complex of villas with scenic views of the waters. Built in Cycladic style, each room is different from the other. This property has a private villa with it's own pool which caters to a family, a studio with a balcony for backpackers and last but not least, a perfect honeymoon suite, with a private outdoor shower and direct beach access.  This venue is also offers day passes for those who are not staying in the villas. Don't forget to try the delicious seafood the restaurant prepares daily and the refreshing cocktails during sunset happy hour. Villa Firostefani also offers spa services as well as movie night as an activity during the weekend.

Please note almost everything is CC and the items were not created by me! Please let me know if anything is missing, there were a lot of cc items! Dine out  (restaurant lot type, chefs station), Spa Day (Massage beds, sauna, massage chairs),  Island living (Pool floatie) required for function.

Please do support and directly download from all the creators mentioned! I have attached the CC folders too for convenience. I have decided to share the folders via Google drive for ease of access so please let me know if you have any tips or questions xx

Do check out my Tiktok, live almost everyday building!

INSTRUCTIONS

Please directly move all the files in CC zip folder to your Mods folder.

Please move  Tray files (Tray files folder) to your Tray folder (enable bb.moveobjects on).

Gallery ID-  SimmerVlogs (Enable CC)

TikTok- simmervlogs

Note-  I have placed this down in Tartosa- 40X20 lot

Thank you once again to all CC creators!

DOWNLOAD (Patreon)

[tornado1992]

Tails was hungry.

Chili dogs were warm, quick to make, and they lasted long. Chili dogs were the answer whenever he didn’t feel like cooking but still neeeded something to eat. Chili dogs were his comfort when Sonic spent too much time traveling without coming by to any of his live-in labs.

Chili dogs were the first warm meal he ever ate. Maybe that’s why they were his comfort food, but who could blame him? Sonic made the best chili dogs in the world!

Sonic wasn’t with him tonight though, but he still needed to eat, he had been pulling several all nighters lately and didn’t even have time to wash the grease off his hands or clean the ash on his face, so chilidogs it was.

He hadn’t found the canned chili brand they liked best, it was harder to find it lately, but he had a can a from a few weeks ago, he was planing on saving it for a special occasion, even if it wasn’t his favorite brand, it was still chilli, and he still preferred skipping a few meals to gather enough ingredients to cook his comfort food when he could finally reach his goal than just inhaling whatever he could find while working.

He hadn’t reached his goal yet, he just needed some more time, and Sonic always told him that eating properly was more important than reaching goals or deadlines.

The bread was kinda hard by now, and flattened to thin pieces for being stocked in a raggedy backpack for way too long, but it was edible, he has eaten way worse things before, he had eaten wet, passed, moldy bread scraps back when he hadn’t met Sonic yet, he could eat something like that right now, so he could eat this no problem. It wasn’t perfect, but Sonic wouldn’t be eating this, so it didn’t have to be perfect.

The hot dog wasn’t the best either, being forced to boil it on an old pot over a tiny campfire instead of frying it in a pan in his usual way to cook chili dogs, but getting a pan meant getting access to steel, and getting access to any kind of metal meant getting access to a weapon, he had to prioritize any weapon he could find, even if they were almost useless against the robot armies that appeared around him almost every hour, and even if it meant not cooking his dinner in Sonic’s favorite style of chili dog.

It was okay, campfire meals brought him the best memories anyways.

He wasn’t secure being outdoors, but almost no place in the world was populated enough to be considered safe, not at this point, not since five months ago. The only place know to not being taken yet being the one he never planned to come back to. So starting a campfire and risking himself to being tracked down by the enemy was still better than coming back to the people that turned their backs on him. Even if coming back could mean a roof over his head, three meals a day, and a warm bed, it still meant accepting he was wrong the day he left. And he wasn’t wrong, he isn’t wrong, he just needs more time, and to have more time required him to eat, and if eating out here would get him more time, It was still better than returning to those who refused to believe him.

He cooked double the amount he would usually eat on his own, back when he was home.

No one would join him for dinner that night. He had been dining alone for some time now.

It was out of habit, he knew exactly how much he should’ve cooked for himself. He could eat it all on his own, it’s not like his stomach would refuse to, hell, he could feel his tummy practically begging for a proper meal, the throbbing pain reminding him of a way worse place than the war zone he was in right now.

He already prepared it, he used all his supplies in this single meal, if he rushed he could finish it quickly and put out the fire before anyone could notice him. That would give him energy, that would give him time.

But he didn’t deserve chili dogs. Not when they were his brother’s favorite meal, not his. Not when he stole food from the resistance’s storage room before abandoning them. Not when his brother could be anywhere, alone, cold, and hungry. Not when there was even the slightest possibility of Sonic actually being dead.

And if he was, it was Tails’ fault.

So if Eggman captured him for standing still, near a campfire, just staring at some freshly cooked chili dogs in Eggman Empire territory… maybe it was for the best.

Maybe he’ll take him to Sonic.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This is a lovely 1980 home in Midland, TX and I wasn't prepared for the interior. I was pleasantly surprised. The 3bd, 5ba house is listed for $1.2M + $67HOA.

Isn't it refreshing to see color? The black tile wall with the red chest is so sharp.

The other side of the wall is a sleek black fireplace. There's a nice pitched ceiling with beams.

Nice stone tile flooring.

The bar is actually a room. This is cool.

Look at the little pantry.

Then, in a more separate area, there's a large dining room.

The everyday dining area has a window to the bar, too.

The kitchen's lovely and it's a good size.

Check out the red sink.

In addition to the formal dining room and everyday dining room, there's also an informal dining room that has a door to the patio.

What a lively guest 1/2 bath.

Wow, look at the home office. It could be a craft space or studio if you don't need an office.

There's a lovely bright family room that's open to a large sun room.

They've got another office area in here, but I would definitely make it a conservatory.

There's another very modern 1/2 bath, but why all the mirrors?

Stairs covered in cheetah carpet.

The primary bedroom is very large. It basically has 2 rooms.

This room is so cute. You could do a lot with it.

The bath is so happy. I love the turquois counter and the lively wallpaper. It looks like there's a matching turquois tile pattern in the shower, too.

There's also plenty of space for clothing.

And, outside, there's a beautiful pool and patio.

Full outdoor kitchen.

The lovely home is on a 0.53 Acre lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/5451-Juniper-Ct-Midland-TX-79707/59867232_zpid/

[noosayog]

[IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU] - ft. knight! iwaizumi hajime

warnings/content: princess! reader x knight/personal guard! iwa, royal au, arranged marraige, angst. One more after this!

wc: 2.1k

part 5. directory here.

--

With Hajime gone, the days fly by. Before you know it, the wedding is set to take place in a week. Your family will be arriving in a few days and will stay to attend the ceremony to be held in the Nekoma castle. There’s no need for you to lift a single finger. Your dress, itinerary, dinner, guest list were all prepared by the maids in the manor. And that was fine because this is not the wedding you always fantasized about anyway. There is no use in stressing over the details. 

What you are excited for, however, is seeing your older brother again. While all the knights and courtesans in Nekoma are kind, you miss your family. 

And despite your father’s brutishness, you do miss him. After the union, you know your opportunities to see him will be few and far in between.

And it goes without saying, but your sore heart aches for your knight. Iwaizumi may have broken your heart, but you would be lying if you said you did not miss him. You have already long resigned to the fact that you will love him forever, silly as that may be. At least once an hour, he double crosses your mind and the next 10 minutes will be spent thinking of him, a deadly mix of daydreaming about his smile and bracing yourself to keep it together when you see him again.

Thus, the days are spent lounging alone in the gardens with a cup of tea and untouched pastries. Sir Kenma and Sir Kai have long given up on checking in on you when the faraway look glazes over your eyes. Most of them, sharp and cunning, have seen right through you, knowing of your feelings for your ex-personal knight. They used to sit with you to keep you company, but that does little to soothe the loneliness that seeps through your bones. So they have learned to give you space. After all, they have the rest of this lifetime to get to know their future queen. The days go by in a blur and before you know it, the day of your family’s arrival comes.

You expect a summon to dinner that night, but none comes. You arrive at the dining room as you do every night and find it completely empty save for some of the maids. When you ask about the Aoba Johsai entourage and the usual Nekoma attendees, the maids only shake their heads. You have dinner alone and wander through the halls in hopes of running into some familiar faces, but the castle hallways are silent and empty. After a dragged out tour of the entire building, including the outdoor gardens, you reluctantly give up on your search. 

Much to your disappointment, the next two days pass similarly. With the exception of Prince Kuroo having breakfast with you, the only human interaction you receive is from the servants. And with that, the day of your wedding arrives. 

~•~ 

The morning greets you with bright sun and beautiful weather, blue skies and not a cloud in  sight, perfect for an early summer wedding. Strangely, not a single maid disrupts your sleep, even after the additional half hour you spend lounging in bed. You decide to get up to find some breakfast and hopefully some company. 

When you push your bedroom door open, two familiar figures standing guard on either side of your doorway turn to face you.  

“Slept in on your big day, eh, Princess?” the first one teases. 

“Pretty heartless of you,” the second one jokes. 

“Mattsun! Makki!” you exclaim, wrapping each of them in a hug. “What are you two doing here?” 

They chuckle warmly, patting you on the back and reciprocating the embrace. 

“We’re here to be your escorts before it’s time to prepare for the ceremony,” Sir Hanamaki explains. 

“Shall we have breakfast in the garden today?” Sir Matsukawa offers.

“Where’s Toru and my parents? Am I not going to see them before the wedding?” 

“‘Fraid not, Princess. They’ve been busy dealing with some diplomatic shit apparently,” Hanamaki responds carelessly. 

“Makki!” you exclaim at his inappropriate language. You have missed that. 

“You’ll see them soon enough,” Matsukawa covers. “Well?” he prompts, offering you a crooked elbow. 

You slip either arm through each of their proffered elbows and practically skip your way to the gardens.  

Breakfast is a pleasant affair as the two catch you up on things you have missed at home. They go through a list of people and their respective updates, including your Father, Mother, Toru, Kindaichi, Kunimi, and all the others. 

They tactfully keep Iwaizumi off the list and while you are undeniably curious, it may just be better off not knowing. It may even be better that he does not come to the wedding at all. You keep those thoughts to yourself. 

After breakfast, they escort you straight back to your room after turning down your request to take a walk in the gardens.

“No can do, Princess.” Matsukawa declines.

“Don’t want you to run into any surprises, you know?” Hanamaki says cryptically. 

Once back in your room, you’re left again to your own devices until lunchtime. At exactly noon, a knock sounds at your door. Without waiting for your permission, the door opens and you are greeted by another face you have missed dearly. 

“Toru!” you exclaim, running over to your brother to tackle him in a hug. 

He lets out a grunt as he catches the impact of your body, giving you an easy spin before setting you back down. 

“Why haven’t I seen you since you’ve arrived?” 

“I’m sorry. There’s been some… situations I have needed to deal with since arriving.” 

He puts a strange emphasis on situations, but you do not question it. After all, diplomatic matters have always been more of Toru’s responsibility than yours.

“I wish we had more time to catch up,” your brother says, “but I have to ask you some questions now.” His eyes show a seriousness unbefitting of your whimsical brother, his voice solemn. 

“Okay,” you agree hesitantly. 

“I need to know if you still love Iwaizumi after all this time.” 

You recoil at the question, surprised by the question and baffled by the relevance of the topic at this stage. 

“Don’t think about anything else. Just be honest with me, as my little sister whose happiness I wish for. Be honest with yourself.”  

“Yes,” you whisper. “I do still love him, and I think I always will. You may not know but Prince Kuroo and I… we agreed to…” you trail off, not sure how to explain the situation in a way that will not upset your brother. 

He surprises you by nodding in understanding. “I know. I know what you and the Prince agreed to. And don’t,” he pauses a bit here, as if searching for the correct words. 

“Don’t overthink what I’m about to ask, okay?” 

You nod. 

“If you had the chance, would you still want to be with Iwa? Forget all the circumstances. Do you still long to be with him?” 

Your answer is easy. A tear escapes your eyes as you respond, “if he and I could simply exist as ourselves, and not as our titles, then yes. I do.”

Your brother smiles then. He gives you one more hug and something about the look in his eyes tells you not to ask anymore questions. You return his embrace, allowing yourself to cry silently in his arms. You don’t know how long the two of you stand there like that, only separating when another knocks sounds at the door. 

It’s the maids, ready to prepare you for the ceremony.

Toru releases you, holding both of your shoulders steady. He leans down, face-to-face with you. “Don’t lose faith,” he says quietly, wiping the swiping tears from your cheeks. 

~•~ 

When Toru leaves, the maids enter, but instead of the Nekoma maids you have become accustomed to, it is your old maids and good friends, Rose and Marie. 

They are quick to gather you into a tight embrace, exclaiming about how you have lost weight and mildly reprimanding you for crying your eyes swollen on such a big day. 

With little time to catch up, they prepare you, adorning you with ribbons, flowers, and jewelry, all while chattering away in their comforting voices. When you slip into your dress and finally see yourself in the mirror, a strange calm washes over you. The same calm that has developed in the days you spent daydreaming in the Nekoma gardens. The same calm that covers your consciousness in a blissful haze. The same calm that makes you feel like you are looking at someone else in your body. 

It’s only as Rose and Marie join you on either side, admiring you through the mirror with tears in their eyes that you blink back into the moment. 

“You are so beautiful, Princess,” Rose sniffles.

“We are so proud of you,” Marie adds. 

You smile at them, fighting the urge to cry again and ruin all their hard work. 

“And remember,” they say. “You are destined for happiness. No matter how this day ends. Now, you must go, Princess.” 

This day has been nothing short of cryptic messages, but they are right. Outside, the sun is just beginning to lower itself onto the horizon and the sunset is a summon for you to be at the Grand Hall. You give your friends one last hug and a whispered “thank you,” before making your way out. 

~•~ 

At your arrival, the large double doors open to reveal an intricately decorated setup, but sparsely filled. The number of attendees is incredibly few for a wedding of royal caliber. As practiced, you walk down the aisle, vision blurred by the veil covering your face. When you arrive at the front of the room, Prince Kuroo is not at the altar, as he was during the practice sessions. And instead of an ordained priest behind the altar, your father and Queen Kuroo stand in that place. You see the monarchs of each kingdom holding their stern expressions, but as you meet your fathers gaze through your veil, you see a kind look in his eyes, one you have not seen since you were a child. He gives you a small nod and in spite of your confusion, you proceed.

Your destination is on the small elevated stage by the altar. You take the 2 small steps up, dragging the train of your dress behind you and turn around to face the guests. As you finally get a good glimpse of all the attendees, you notice that Hajime is nowhere in sight. On the Nekoma side of the hall, the first chair closest to the stage is vacant. You are not sure who is missing from the Nekoma side save for your absent fiance. 

The first to speak is Queen Kuroo, as you hear her begin to announce her son. 

“Announcing: Representative of the Royal Family Kuroo, Prince of Nekoma, and future heir to the throne, my son, Kuroo Testuro.” 

At the very end of the hall, the curtains are drawn and you see the Prince enter, walking down the same carpet you did just moments ago. However, instead of alighting the steps to join you on stage, he stands on the ground directly in front of you. He does not turn around to face the guests. You give him a questioning look and he just grins like he knows something you do not, though it seems more and more like everyone knows something about today that you do not. 

Next, you hear your father clear his throat. His next words make you turn your back to the audience to make sure you hear him correctly. 

“Announcing: Captain of the Aoba Johsai Royal Order of Knights,” 

Your breath catches. 

“And future heir to the Dukedom of the Iwaizumi estate, Iwaizumi Hajime.” 

 You swivel around abruptly enough that your veil slides out of position. Your obscured vision only sees a flurry of motion at the end of the hall. You see the curtain at the back of the hall pulled back to reveal a figure you dare not register as familiar, though it is one that you have watched and chased after for as long as you remember. Your vision grows hazy and you don’t know if it’s tears or the veil. So you pull the veil right off, not trusting your covered eyes. 

At the other end of the carpet, is Iwaizumi Hajime, not in his usual armor, but dressed in formal attire, not unlike Prince Kuroo’s. His eyes are trained intensely on yours. Something in the way he looks at you, walks to the altar, and takes your hands tells you that he is not here to simply watch. He is here for you.