#so it's almost impossible for one to have been inspired by the other
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AWKWARD â nicholas a. chavez
masterlist | inspo playlist
summary â a close friendâs destination wedding turns into an impromptu reunion between you and your all-grown-up college fuck-buddy. old flames reignite and tensions simmer in the italian sun, as you learn some sparks never really snuff out. inspired by awkward by sza.
word count â 25.1k
tags/warnings â feat. joshua hong, kim mingyu, a few other var. idols + ocs. fem!reader. forced proximity(?). eloping. 2 suggestive scenes. alcohol consumption (theyâre in italy, itâs a lot of wine but nobody is drunk). best friends to lovers to scorned ex-situationship to friends to ???. angst for like 10 words because i just want everybody to be happy. josh and dae are plotting and scheming.
a/n â this is the longest piece iâve written in years so i hope that you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. if anyone is interested besides me i may revisit these two in future as i am now Extremely emotionally attached to them. dedicated to my beautiful @titsout4nicholas who beta-read this and helped me flesh it out when i was stuck. please check out her writing at well!
DAY ONE
The cab winds its way up a narrow, cobblestone path, the engine purring as the late afternoon sun bathes the landscape in a golden glow. Between clusters of cypress trees, you catch glimpses of Lake Como shimmering like molten silver. The air feels impossibly clean, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers.
Joshuaâs family villa looms aheadâa masterpiece of terracotta and ivy, perched like a crown atop the hill. You exhale slowly, the flutter in your stomach intensifying. Youâve travelled halfway across the world for this.
The cab stops in front of the grand iron gates, and you step out, your heels clicking against the stones. The estate is larger than you imagined, almost intimidating in its elegance. Joshua had joked in his messages that his auntâs villa could host royalty, and now, standing here, youâre beginning to think he wasnât exaggerating.
You press the buzzer, your nerves prickling as the gate buzzes open. Your suitcase rattles behind you as you make your way up the cobblestone driveway, flanked by gardens bursting with lavender and roses. The door opens before you can knock, and Joshua steps out, a grin already splitting his face.
âYou made it!â His voice is warm, just like you remember, and the sight of him is enough to loosen the knot in your chest.
âBarely,â you tease, letting him pull you into a hug. âYou didnât mention how many hills Iâd have to climb just to get here.â
He laughs, stepping back to look you over. âItaly suits you. Youâre already glowing.â
âPlease, Iâve been here for less than an hour,â you say, shaking your head.
âWell, Daeâs going to lose it when she sees you,â he says, ushering you inside.
The entryway is breathtakingâvaulted ceilings, marble floors, and soft sunlight pouring in through tall windows. Thereâs a faint citrusy smell in the air, mixed with fresh flowers. Itâs almost too much to take in all at once.
âWhere is Dae?â you ask as you trail behind Joshua.
âProbably trying to micromanage something,â he says with a fond roll of his eyes. âYou know how she gets. Let me call herââ
Before he can finish, Dae appears at the top of the sweeping staircase. She practically sprints down, her steps light despite the heels sheâs wearing. âYouâre finally here!â
She pulls you into a tight hug, her excitement radiating off her in waves. âYou look amazing,â she says, holding you at armâs length for a moment.
âSo do you,â you reply, meaning it. Her hair is swept up in a sleek ponytail, and sheâs wearing a crisp white blouse that somehow looks effortless and chic.
âWeâve missed you,â she says, looping her arm through yours and steering you toward the living room. âCome on, letâs get you settled. You can tell us all about your flight, workâoh, and your love life.â
You laugh, shaking your head. âThereâs nothing to tell.â
âPlease,â Joshua chimes in from behind. âYouâve been suspiciously quiet in the group chat. That usually means something juicy is going on.â
âIâm literally here for your wedding,â you say, trying to deflect.
âAnd we love that for us,â Dae says with a grin. âBut donât think for a second youâre getting out of story time later.â
Their easy banter pulls you in, warming you from the inside out. For a moment, itâs as though no time has passed since the four of you spent late nights cramming for finals in your college apartment.
But thereâs an undercurrent of unease you canât quite shake. It surfaces when Dae casually mentions that some of their other friends will be arriving later. When you ask who, Joshua cuts in with a teasing, âYouâll see,â before Dae can answer.
The villaâs guest room is as luxurious as you expected, with a high ceiling, a plush king-sized bed, and a balcony that overlooks the lake. You set your suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed and sink onto the mattress, letting out a long breath. The journey here had been a blur of airports, connections, and winding roads, but now, with the late-afternoon sun warming the tiled floor, the reality of being here finally settles in.
The villa hums with quiet life. Somewhere below, you can hear the soft clatter of dishes and distant laughter. Outside, the breeze carries the faint scent of lavender and rosemary, mingling with the warmth of the sun-soaked air.
You had barely finished catching your breath when Dae showed up, practically dragging you out of the room for a whirlwind tour of the estate.
âThis place is magic,â sheâd said, her excitement infectious as she led you down stone corridors and through hidden courtyards. Every turn revealed something newâa secluded fountain framed by climbing roses, a sun-dappled veranda, a cozy library tucked away on the second floor. âWeâre using the garden for the ceremony. Just wait until you see it.â
The tour ended on the dining terrace, overlooking the shimmering lake. A long, rustic table had already been set with crisp linens, flickering candles, and bursts of wildflowers.
âThis is where dinner will be,â Dae had said, her voice softer, almost reverent. âWe wanted it to feel intimate, you know? Like something youâd do at home, butââ
âMuch fancier,â youâd finished for her, smiling.
Now, back in your room, you find yourself lingering on the balcony, taking it all in. The lake stretches out below, its surface catching the last golden rays of sunlight. The moment feels quiet, still, a sharp contrast to the rush of life back home.
You let out a slow breath, resting your hands on the cool stone of the railing. It had been too long since youâd had a moment like thisâtoo long since youâd seen Dae and Joshua, too long since youâd allowed yourself to just stop.
A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts.
âItâs me!â Dae calls brightly.
You open the door to find her grinning, a whirlwind of energy in an elegant cream dress. âDinnerâs starting soon,â she says, glancing at you from head to toe. âWow. You look amazing.â
You glance down at your outfitâa deep green dress that hugs your figure in all the right places. âThank you. You donât look too bad yourself.â
âNot bad? Excuse me, I look incredible,â she quips, flipping her hair dramatically before looping her arm through yours. âCome on. Weâre sitting together, and youâll want a drink before Josh starts his toast. Heâs been rehearsing.â
The walk to the terrace feels like stepping into another world. The garden glows under strings of fairy lights, the long table a picture of effortless elegance. Music drifts softly in the background, mingling with the sound of laughter as Joshua holds court near the head of the table, gesturing animatedly.
âYou did all this?â you ask Dae, marvelling at the detailsâthe flowers, the candles, the cosy but luxurious ambiance.
She gives you a sheepish smile. âI had help, but yeah. Itâs what we wantedâsomething small, personal. Just the people who matter most.â
Her words tug at something in your chest, and you squeeze her arm gently. âItâs perfect.â
As you take your seat, the warmth of the evening wraps around you, the glow of the lights adding a touch of magic to the scene. It feels like the start of somethingânot just a celebration, but maybe a shift, a moment to breathe and reconnect with the people who shaped the most important parts of your life.
âBreathe it in,â Dae says, nudging you with a grin. âThis is just the beginning.â
The conversation around the table is light and easy, buoyed by Joshuaâs endless charm and Daeâs quick wit. You find yourself laughing more than you expected, the warmth of the evening sinking into your shoulders and softening the edges of your travel fatigue.
âYou two have met, right?â Dae asks suddenly, sliding back into the chair beside you after a round of wine refills.
You shake your head, glancing at the man Dae gestures to, sitting a few seats down. Heâs hard to missâtall, broad-shouldered, and ridiculously good-looking in a crisp white shirt that somehow makes him look even more tanned than he already is.
âMingyu, this is my friend,â Dae says, leaning forward to catch his attention. âYouâll love her.â
Mingyu looks up, his easy grin spreading as he shifts his chair closer. âAh, Iâve heard stories. You guys met in high school, right?â
You nod, offering a polite smile. âWe did. And youâreâŠ?â
âMingyu,â he says, his voice smooth and warm. âFriend of Joshuaâs. Heâs been telling me about you guys for years.â He tilts his head, his dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. âYouâre the one who keeps them in check, right?â
You laugh softly. âSomeone has to.â
Dae nudges your arm, grinning. âMingyuâs one of those guys who knows a little about everything. And heâs annoyingly good at all of it.â
âDonât listen to her,â Mingyu says, leaning back casually. âIâm just here for the wine and the view.â His eyes flick to you for a moment, the faintest hint of flirtation in his tone.
You arch an eyebrow but say nothing, sipping your wine instead.
The conversation flows easily, with Mingyu sliding into the dynamic like heâs always been part of it. He teases Dae relentlessly, compliments her taste in wine, and somehow makes Joshua laugh so hard he has to set down his glass.
Itâs almost enough to distract you from the quiet sense of anticipation thatâs been building since the moment you arrived.
Almost.
Youâre just about to ask Mingyu something about his workâheâs in hospitality, or maybe it was hotels?âwhen the quiet murmur of someone arriving pulls your attention to the garden gate.
Joshua stands, grinning broadly as he strides toward the gate. âFinally! Look who decided to show up!â
Your stomach twists sharply, and you glance instinctively toward the entrance.
Nicholas stands there, sweater slung over one shoulder, his shirt slightly rumpled as though heâd barely had time to catch his breath before arriving. The warm glow of the garden lights casts soft shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw and the familiar intensity in his eyes.
Your fingers tighten around your wine glass.
He scans the group quickly, his expression carefully composed, but when his gaze lands on you, it falters just slightly. His lips part, and for a second, he looksâŠstunned. Like he hadnât let himself consider the possibility of seeing you here, even though he should have known.
Then Joshua breaks the spell, clapping Nicholas on the back and pulling him into the fold. âTough flight?â
âDelayed out of LAX,â Nicholas says simply, his voice as calm and measured as you remember. âBut I made it.â
âAnd just in time,â Dae chimes in, standing to give him a quick hug. âWe saved you a seat.â
Your stomach sinks as you realize exactly where that seat is.
Directly across from you.
Nicholas hesitates for the briefest of moments, his eyes flicking back to you as though weighing whether he has a choice. Then he lowers himself into the chair, nodding at the group.
The conversation resumes quickly, Joshua launching into a toast that draws laughter and applause, but youâre hyperaware of Nicholasâs presence, the quiet tension crackling in the air between you.
âHi,â he says softly, leaning just slightly forward.
You force yourself to meet his gaze, offering a polite smile. âHi, Nic.â
âNic?â Mingyu interjects, leaning forward with a curious tilt of his head. âYou two know each other?â
The question hangs in the air, and you feel Nicholasâs eyes on you, waiting for your response.
âHeâs the fourth, in the core four. We went to college together,â you say evenly, keeping your tone light.
âMore like survived college together,â Nicholas adds, his voice carrying just the faintest edge of warmth.
Mingyu glances between the two of you, something flickering behind his amused expression, but he doesnât press further. Instead, he leans back in his chair, that easy grin returning. âMust have been some college.â
Nicholasâs jaw tightens slightly, though he doesnât respond.
You sip your wine, doing your best to ignore the heat creeping up your neck as the conversation shifts away from you. But every so often, you catch Nicholas watching, his expression unreadable, and you canât quite shake the feeling that youâve been pulled into something youâre not ready to navigate.
And when Mingyu leans closer later in the evening, his voice low and teasing as he asks about your plans for the week, you donât miss the subtle way Nicholas stiffens, his eyes flicking briefly in your direction.
For the first time tonight, you let yourself smileânot for Mingyu, not even for yourself, but for the quiet satisfaction of knowing Nicholas is watching.
The evening stretches on, the laughter around the table mellowing as glasses empty and conversations shift. Youâve managed to find a rhythm, the conversation flowing with Mingyu, Dae, and Joshua, but the tension between you and Nicholas lingers in the background like an uninvited guest.
Mingyuâs presence has certainly helped lighten the mood, and you find yourself laughing more easily than you expected, your earlier discomfort slowly melting away. His stories are ridiculous, and his charm is disarming in the best way, but thereâs no denying the undercurrent of awareness that pulses through the room whenever your gaze meets Nicâs. Itâs like thereâs an invisible thread pulling you back to a time that feels both distant and incredibly close.
âAlright, alright,â Joshua finally says, pushing his chair back as the conversation dies down. âWeâll have to call it a night before Mingyu starts telling us about his gym routine again. Believe me, itâs all the same.â
Mingyu laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. âGuilty. But seriously, you should try it sometime, Joshua. Your abs could use a little work.â
âDonât listen to him,â Dae interjects with a wink, standing to clear away the empty glasses. âHeâs just mad because I wonât let him teach me how to âproperlyâ lift weights.â
You smile at the easy camaraderie between them, but as the evening winds down and the group begins to disband, the weight of the unspoken words between you and Nicholas hangs heavily in the air.
The others drift off in pairsâJoshua playfully nudging Dae as they head toward the kitchen, Mingyu wandering off with a last cheeky grin in your direction. Youâre halfway to gathering the last of the plates when Nicâs voice stops you.
âLet me.â
You look up to see him standing there, hands already reaching for the empty bottles on the table. Itâs a simple offer, but thereâs something in his toneâsomething softer, unguarded. For a second, you consider brushing him off, but you step back instead, letting him take over.
âThanks,â you say, your voice quieter than you intended.
Nic glances at you as he sets the bottles down, his expression unreadable. âYouâve had enough on your plate today.â
The comment feels loaded, though you canât quite pinpoint why. You donât respond immediately, instead fiddling with the edge of a napkin. He doesnât move, lingering just close enough that the air between you seems to buzz with unsaid things.
âLong day,â you finally offer, shrugging, but your voice lacks conviction.
Nic leans his hip against the table, his gaze steady on yours. âIt doesnât have to be like this, you know.â
Your chest tightens at his words, though you canât bring yourself to look away. âLike what?â
âLike weâre strangers.â His voice is low, almost tentative.
You laugh softly, but thereâs no humor behind it. âWell, isnât that what we are now?â
The question hangs between you, heavy and sharp. Nic hesitates, his lips parting like he might argue, but then he seems to think better of it. Instead, he shakes his head slightly, as if trying to shake off the weight of whatever heâs feeling.
âGoodnight,â he says finally, his tone quieter now, but thereâs a flicker of somethingâregret, maybeâin his eyes.
You nod, your voice caught in your throat as you watch him step away. The warmth of his presence lingers even after heâs gone, leaving you with a mix of emotions you canât quite untangle.
By the time you make it to your room, the house is silent, save for the distant murmur of voices from the terrace. You sit on the edge of the bed, your hands resting in your lap, staring at nothing in particular. The weight of the evening settles over you like a thick, heavy fog, leaving your chest tight and your mind racing.
Nic.
You hadnât let yourself say his name in your head for so longânot like this, not with every syllable feeling like a stone dropped into the still waters of your life. Seeing him again after all these years had cracked something open, something youâd buried deep and refused to examine.
He hadnât changed much. The sharpness of his features, the confidence in his postureâit was all still there, though tempered now with a quiet weight that hadnât been there before. And those moments, brief as they were, when his gaze softened on you, when his words carried a tenderness you werenât prepared for⊠they left you raw.
The sight of him stirred up so many conflicting emotions, you didnât know where to start. The angerâoh, the angerâwas still there, simmering just below the surface. How could he leave you the way he had, without a word, without a fight? How could he stand here now, acting like he wanted to bridge a gap he created?
But it wasnât just anger. It was the ache, the longing that twisted in your chest at the sound of his voice saying your name. It was the flood of memories, unbidden and too vivid: his laugh in the dead of night, the way his fingers curled around yours when he thought no one was looking, the warmth of his breath on your skin as he whispered something only meant for you.
It was the bitterness, too, of realizing how deeply youâd missed him, even when you swore you wouldnât. Even when you swore you couldnât.
And now he was here, standing just close enough to stir everything up but not close enough to make it okay. You thought youâd prepared yourself for thisâJoshua and Dae had warned you, after allâbut nothing could have readied you for the reality of facing him again, for the sharp edges of the past cutting into you with every glance, every word.
What did he want from you? What did he expect? And more terrifyingly, what did you want from him?
The questions swirled in your head, unanswered and overwhelming. You stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to will the thoughts away, but they wouldnât go.
Part of you wanted to hate him, to let the bitterness overtake everything else. It would be so much easier than confronting the other part of youâthe part that remembered what it felt like to love him, to feel safe in the space youâd carved out together, the part that wondered if he was here now to take that away from you all over again.
As you closed your eyes, exhaustion finally pulling at you, one thought lingered above all the rest, heavy and undeniable: what happens next?
And for the first time in years, you realized you werenât sure if the answer scared you or thrilled you.
DAY TWO
The kitchen is quiet when you enter, the early morning light streaming through the wide windows, casting golden streaks on the wooden floor. Nic is already there, standing at the counter with a mug in hand, wearing a plain white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. The sight of him is⊠jarring, yet oddly familiar. For a moment, you pause, unsure if you should turn around and leave or brave the awkwardness.
He looks up just as you step in, his posture stiffening slightly. âMorning,â he says, his voice low, like heâs testing the waters.
âMorning,â you reply, keeping your tone neutral as you move to the coffee pot. Youâre acutely aware of the space between youâtoo much history to feel natural, not enough familiarity to feel comfortable.
The silence stretches as you pour your coffee, the sound of liquid hitting the ceramic mug louder than it should be. You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting him to leave, but he stays rooted in place, fiddling with his mug like he wants to say something.
âYou sleep okay?â he asks after a beat, his voice casual but his gaze flickering with something heavier.
You nod, not looking at him. âYeah. You?â
âYeah.â
The small talk feels unnatural, like both of you are grasping at straws to fill the silence. You take a sip of your coffee, letting the warmth anchor you.
âWell,â you say after a moment, your voice a little too loud in the quiet kitchen. âIâm gonna head out to the terrace.â
Nic nods, stepping aside to give you space as you move past him. The air feels heavy as you walk away, your shoulders tense until youâre outside and the cool morning breeze brushes against your skin.
You settle into one of the cushioned chairs on the terrace, pulling your knees up as you cradle your coffee. The view of the garden below is stunning, but your mind is elsewhereâon the kitchen, on Nic, on the way your chest felt tight just being in the same room as him.
The sliding door creaks open, and a moment later, Dae appears, holding her own mug of tea. She takes one look at you and immediately crosses the terrace to join you, settling into the chair beside yours.
âStealing my spot already?â
âItâs not your spot. Itâs the best spot,â you reply with a faint smile, trying to mask the thoughts spinning in your head.
Dae doesnât buy it. âYouâve got that look,â she says, tapping her mug against yours. âYouâre mulling. Spill it.â
You laugh softly, but thereâs no point denying it. âYou already know what Iâm thinking about,â you say, leaning back in your chair.
âNic,â Dae states plainly, and you glance away, caught. She leans closer, her smile mischievous. âSo, are you going to talk to him? I mean, really talk? Five years is a long time, but⊠I donât know. Maybe itâs time.â
You groan, toying with loose thread on your pyjama pants. âDae, come on. I can barely get through breakfast without feeling like Iâm going to drown in all the unresolved⊠everything. I donât even know what Iâd say to him. Itâs not that simple.â
Dae shrugs, her teasing softening into something more thoughtful. âMaybe not, but you two were close once. Really close. And I know what he did was awful, but⊠heâs different now.â
You narrow your eyes, skeptical. âDifferent how?â
âI mean, people grow up, you know? They change.â She hesitates, then meets your gaze. âNicâs talked about it, you know. Over the years. Not all the time, but enough for me to know he regrets it. Deeply. What he did to you.â
You blink, her words hitting harder than you expect. âHe⊠regrets it?â
Dae nods, her expression earnest. âI think heâs always regretted it. He just didnât know how to fix itâor if he even could. Heâs told Josh and me that what he did was the biggest mistake of his life.â
You look away, the weight of her words settling heavily on your chest. âWhy are you telling me this?â
âBecause I think you deserve to know,â she says simply. âAnd I know you donât owe him anything. Not your forgiveness, not your time, nothing. But I also know you. You donât let people in easily, and when you do, itâs because they matter to you. He mattered to you once, and maybeâjust maybeâitâs worth figuring out if he still does.â Dae watches as you stew on her words. âCan I ask you something?â
âSure,â you say, though you brace yourself.
âDo you still care about him? I donât mean, like, pine-after-him care. I mean⊠as a person. As someone who was once really important to you.â
Her words settle over you like the warmth of the sun, and you know the answer without hesitation. âYes,â you admit. âIâll probably always care about him. I donât know what that means, though.â
Dae smiles softly. âThatâs something. And Iâm not saying you have to figure it out right now. ButâŠâ She hesitates, then laughs lightly. âOkay, this is cheesy, but Josh and I have had our disagreements. Big ones. And whatâs always worked for us is being honest. Like, painfully honest. Even when itâs uncomfortable.â
You tilt your head, curious. âHeâs never hurt you the way Nic hurt me.â
She nods, serious now. âNo, he hasnât. And thatâs huge. Itâs not the same, I know that. But youâve always been one of the strongest people I know. I just donât want you to close a door without looking through it first, you know?â
You look out over the lake, her words echoing in your mind. The idea of rekindling anything with Nicholas feels impossible, and yet⊠youâve spent five years trying to bury something that clearly refuses to stay buried.
âI donât even know if I want the door open,â you say after a moment, and Dae laughs.
âThatâs okay. You donât have to decide today. Just donât lock it yet. Youâve got a week, give it some time.â
You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. Dae reaches over and squeezes your hand, the gesture grounding you. You sit together in companionable silence, the morning sun climbing higher as the day stretches ahead, the uncertainty of the week hanging just out of reach.
The estate had a life of its own, buzzing with the quiet hum of excitement and last-minute wedding plans. Over the next few hours, you spent your time catching up with old friends and new faces alike. Joshuaâs cousin Johnny, loud and perpetually armed with a joke, seemed to find you every time you lingered near the sitting room.
âYouâve got to stop hiding in here,â he teased, leaning against the doorway as you gazed out the window, book in hand. âOtherwise, weâre all going to think youâve turned into a hermit.â
Johnnyâs relentless energy was matched only by Daeâs younger cousin Theo, who had arrived with his girlfriend, Indiaâa warm and bubbly presence who made you laugh more than once with her stories about Theoâs less-than-graceful attempts at wedding prep.
And then there was Mingyu, effortlessly charming as always, slipping into every conversation with a wink or a quip that made you wonder if he was born to make people feel special. He had a way of lightening the mood, even when you found yourself retreating into your thoughts.
By the afternoon, the rehearsal ceremony began in the estateâs garden. The celebrant, a kind Italian woman with a melodic accent, guided Dae and Joshua through the motions. You stayed off to the side, a silent observer. Watching the way they looked at each otherâfull of shared history, love, and promiseâmade your chest ache. It wasnât envy, not exactly, but it stirred something deep within you, something unresolved.
Yeri, Daeâs younger sister, took her role as maid of honor seriously, adjusting Daeâs dress and making playful jabs about how Joshua would probably cry during the real ceremony. Johnny, Joshuaâs best man, was less focused, cracking jokes and dramatically mimicking the celebrantâs gestures until Dae swatted him on the arm.
You smiled at the scene, grateful to be part of such an intimate moment, even as a quiet observer. It felt like a privilege to witness this chapter of their story unfold.
The rehearsal dinner followed shortly after, hosted in a grand but cozy dining room adorned with soft lighting and fragrant floral arrangements. You were seated a few spots away from Nic, with Dae on one side and Theo across from you, his girlfriend India chatting animatedly with Mingyu. Johnny, ever the life of the party, held court a few seats down, keeping everyone entertained with his endless stream of stories.
âSo,â Johnny said, pointing a fork toward you, âI just realized this is the first time Iâve seen you in years.â He turned to Joshua. âWasnât it your 21st birthday party when we met?â
You nodded, remembering the lavish house party Joshua had thrown during your junior year of college. âYeah, that sounds about right. You spent half the night in a heated debate about Australian football with one of the bartenders.â
Johnny grinned. âGood times. But hey, I remember more than just the bartender. You twoââhe gestured vaguely between you and Nicââwere definitely sneaking off somewhere that night, werenât you?â
The table quieted slightly, and you felt your cheeks flush. You glanced at Nic, whose expression was neutral but whose jaw tightened just enough for you to notice.
âI mean, Iâm not saying I was spying,â Johnny continued, clearly oblivious to the sudden shift in the atmosphere. âBut I remember catching a bit of a moment between you two. By the pool? Or was it the kitchen? Anywayââ
âJohnny,â Joshua interrupted smoothly, though there was an edge to his voice. âLet it go.â
Nic chimed in with a dry tone. âI think your memoryâs getting creative.â
Johnny blinked, looking between the two of them, then raised his hands in mock surrender. âOkay, okay. No need to gang up on me. Just saying what I saw.â
âYou thought you saw,â Joshua corrected firmly, and Johnny finally seemed to pick up on the fact that the subject was off-limits.
Theo, sensing the tension, jumped in to change the subject. âSo, India and I were trying to figure out the best time to visit Florenceâany recommendations?â
The conversation shifted to travel plans, and you let out a quiet breath, grateful for the diversion. Still, Johnnyâs comment lingered, bringing back flashes of that nightâNicâs hand brushing yours, the way heâd looked at you when he thought no one else was watching.
When dessert was served, you found yourself catching snippets of Nicâs voice as he spoke to Joshua and Mingyu. His laugh was warm, familiar, and it tugged at something deep inside you. You hadnât realized how much youâd missed hearing it.
Every now and then, you felt his gaze drift toward you, but he never let it linger long. It was almost as if he was waiting for the right moment to speak, but the moment never came.
The conversation at the table had settled into a comfortable rhythm after Johnnyâs earlier slip-up, everyone enjoying the fine Italian meal and the company. Mingyu, seated just a spot down from Nic, leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass as he listened to Nic talk about his work.
âJosh tells me youâre a prosecutor in LA?â Mingyu asked, his eyebrows lifting in interest.
Nic nodded, leaning back in his chair. âYeah. Criminal defense first, but I made the switch to prosecution about a year ago. Itâs challenging, but I enjoy it. Keeps me sharp.â
Mingyu tilted his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. âMan, I donât know how you deal with all that pressure. Iâm just behind a counter, trying to make sure pastries look good enough to eat and that customers leave happy.â
Nic chuckled, a hint of admiration in his tone. âDonât sell yourself short. Managing a bakery chain sounds like it comes with its own kind of stress. And letâs be honest, no oneâs day gets worse because of a croissant.â
Mingyu grinned, leaning forward. âTrue. But the way some people act when we run out of almond tarts? Youâd think I committed a crime. At least youâre dealing with actual criminals.â
Nic laughed, shaking his head. âI think Iâll stick with my courtroom drama. Pastry wars sound way too intense for me.â
Mingyu laughed, the sound warm and infectious as he leaned back in his chair. Then his gaze shifted to you, his curiosity genuine. âWhat about you? Whatâs your story?â
You took a sip of your wine, smiling. âIâm an oral surgeon.â
Before you could elaborate, Nicâs voice cut in smoothly. âA damn good one, too.â
The unexpected compliment hung in the air, and your cheeks warmed despite yourself. You glanced at Nic, whose expression was sincere, though he quickly looked away, his fingers fidgeting with the stem of his glass.
âWell,â you said with a small shrug, trying to play it off, âheâs not wrong.â
Mingyu grinned, clearly impressed. âGuess I know who to call if I ever need a new jaw.â
You smirked, your response coming easily. âIâm not expecting that call anytime soon. Your jaw looks perfectly fine from where Iâm sittingâ
The table laughed at your quick retort, and even Nic cracked a smile, though his fingers tightened slightly around his glass. You couldnât quite tell if it was the flirtation or the ease with which youâd fallen into it that bothered him.
Mingyu leaned in, still grinning. âGood to know Iâve got the expertâs seal of approval.â
âDonât let it go to your head,â you teased lightly, turning your attention back to your plate.
As the conversation shifted again, Nic remained mostly quiet, only chiming in here and there. You couldnât help but wonder if he was holding back on purposeâor if he was waiting for the right moment to say something more meaningful.
While his praise had flattered you, it also left you feeling a little unsteady. He hadnât said a word about the way things ended between you, and until he did, it was impossible to tell what his intentions for the week might be.
Still, there was a part of you that wanted to believe the look in his eyesâwarm, familiar, and perhaps a little regretfulâwas a step toward something better, even if you werenât sure what that better looked like just yet.
The sound of clinking glass and running water draws you toward the kitchen as the evening winds down. Joshua is standing at the sink, rinsing a wine glass with the kind of precision that only he could make look natural. His blazer is draped over the back of a chair, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
âYouâre not the help, you know,â you say lightly as you step into the room, leaning against the counter.
Joshua glances at you over his shoulder, a small smile tugging at his lips. âAnd yet, somehow, Iâm always cleaning up after Mingyu. He has this uncanny ability to use three glasses for every drink.â
You laugh softly, crossing your arms as you watch him. Thereâs a brief silence, the kind that only Joshua could make feel comfortable, before he turns off the faucet and turns to face you fully.
âHow are you doing?â he asks, his voice gentle but direct.
You blink at him, caught slightly off guard. âIâm fine. Why?â
âBecause I know you better than that.â He leans against the counter opposite you, his gaze steady. âItâs a lot. Him being here.â
You sigh, your shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of his words. âI donât even know how I feel, Josh. Every time I see him, itâs likeââ You pause, struggling to find the words. âItâs like this hollow drop in my stomach, and I donât know if itâs because Iâm happy to see him or because Iâm⊠angry that heâs here.â
Joshua tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. âMaybe itâs both.â
âMaybe.â You chew on your bottom lip, the thoughts swirling in your head louder now that youâve voiced them. âI donât even know if I should bring it up. Whatâs the point, you know? Itâs been five years. What am I even supposed to say?â
Joshua steps closer, resting a hand on your shoulder briefly. âYou donât have to figure it all out tonight. Give it time. Youâve always been the more emotionally mature one between the two of you. I trust youâll handle it the way you need to.â
His words settle over you like a thin veil of comfort, but the knot in your chest doesnât entirely loosen.
Without saying anything else, Joshua moves toward the counter and begins brewing you a cup of tea. The soft clink of the kettle and the quiet rustle of the tea bags fill the stillness between you, an unspoken offer of calm in the midst of your swirling thoughts.
He doesnât need to say much moreâhis presence alone, steady and unassuming, is enough. As the steam rises from the freshly brewed tea, you take a slow breath, letting the warmth of the moment seep into your bones, even if it doesnât chase away the uncertainty that lingers.
Joshua sets the mug of tea in front of you, steam curling up into the air between you. The kitchen is quiet now, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound as the rest of the house winds down for the night.
âIâm cutting you off for the weekend,â Joshua says with a teasing smile, leaning against the counter. âNo more drip-feeding you wine, or youâll spend every morning with hangxiety and then blame me for it.â
You laugh softly, cradling the mug in your hands. âYouâre not wrong. Youâre a terrible influence, though.â
âHey, Iâm the voice of reason tonight,â he counters. âRemember this when you wake up feeling human tomorrow.â
The two of you fall into easy small talk after thatâlight chatter about the rehearsal, the chaos of planning a wedding abroad, and how Dae is likely still tweaking the seating arrangements upstairs. Itâs easy, familiar, a welcome distraction.
But eventually, Joshua straightens and grabs his blazer from the back of the chair. âIâm calling it a night. You should, too.â
You hum noncommittally, staring into your tea. âI will. Soon.â
Joshua doesnât press. He just rests a hand on your shoulder briefly as he passes. âDonât overthink it, âkay. Not all at once, anyway.â
A soft sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupts your thoughts, and you glance up to find Nic descending into the kitchen, his pyjamas a stark contrast to the polished image he usually presents. Thereâs something strangely domestic about him in this momentâalmost familiar. His hair is mussed, his shoulders relaxed, and for a second, he looks like the Nic you used to know, back when things were easy.
âCouldnât sleep?â you ask, trying to keep things light as he moves toward the counter to fill a glass of water.
He chuckles softly, a hint of weariness in his voice. âYeah, that or I just didnât feel like staying in that giant bed all alone. Guess Iâm just not used to it.â
The casualness of his tone makes you smile, but thereâs a touch of sadness beneath it, something unspoken. He looks over at you, his eyes softer now, not the sharpness from earlier. The room feels smaller, and for the first time since you arrived, the tension between you two feels less suffocating, almost bearable.
Nic leans against the counter, sipping his water, his gaze flickering toward you with a quiet intensity. âI know things were⊠complicated, back then,â he starts, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. âAnd I know I left without giving you any real answers.â
You feel a tightness in your chest, the memory of it still fresh, even after all these years. But he doesnât press further, not yet.
âI donât expect any huge conversations right now,â Nic adds quickly, his voice taking on a gentler edge. âBut if you ever want to talk about⊠anything, Iâm here. I know I screwed up. I just want you to know that.â
The simplicity of it catches you off guard. Itâs not a grand gesture or an apology, but it feels like an olive branch, a small offering, an acknowledgment of the past without expecting you to jump right in. Thereâs a rawness in his words, something real and vulnerable that makes your heart ache, but it doesnât feel too heavy. Not yet.
He looks at you for a beat longer, as though waiting for somethingâan answer, maybe, or a sign that youâre willing to meet him halfway. When you donât immediately respond, he shifts his weight, seeming almost a little self-conscious.
âI mean, you know where I am if you need me,â he adds, his tone lighter, but thereâs something thereâsomething sincere. âFor whatever itâs worth.â
You can feel the weight of his words, of the quiet truth in them. Maybe itâs nothing more than a flicker of hope, but it feels like a bridge, and youâre not sure what to do with it just yet.
For a moment, you both simply stand there in the kitchen, the sound of the clock ticking the only thing breaking the silence. The tension hasnât disappeared, not by a long shot, but it feels different now. The air between you isnât as thick, the distance not quite as vast.
You bring yourself to nod briefly, mustering up a small smile. âThank you, Nic.â
Nic finishes his water and starts to move toward the stairs, glancing back at you once more. âWell,â he says, with a small, almost reluctant smile, âIâll be around if you want to talk⊠whenever youâre ready.â
You nod, unsure of what to say. Itâs not much, but itâs enough to make you wonder if maybe thereâs a chance, however small, to heal what was broken between you.
As he heads upstairs, you stay in the kitchen a little longer, the warmth of the tea in your hands and his words lingering in the quiet. For the first time since you arrived, you wonder if there might be a way forward. Not right now, but maybe someday.
DAY THREE
The sun is high and warm as you join Dae down by the grass near the steps leading to the lake. Sheâs sprawled out on a blanket, sunglasses perched on her nose, a chilled spritz in hand. You settle beside her, folding your legs under you and squinting out at the scene below: an impromptu volleyball game on the lawn.
Joshua dives for the ball with reckless enthusiasm, sending Mingyu into a fit of laughter as Johnny yells at him for botching the point. Mingyu sets the ball with ease, his towering frame and effortless movements commanding attention. Nic leaps, shirtless, to spike it over the net, his focus sharp, muscles flexing with precision.
Your eyes catch on him.
Itâs the first time youâve seen Nic shirtless since⊠well, since that night five years ago, the last time youâd touched him in that way. And what youâre seeing now? Itâs very different.
Heâs tallerâor maybe just broader. His shoulders are like carved stone, his waist tapered and solid. His chest is thick with definition, and his arms look like they could snap a volleyball in half if he wanted to. And then thereâs the six-pack, glistening slightly in the sun, drawing your gaze lower, entirely against your will.
Your thoughts betray you, running away into dangerous territory. What would those arms feel like now? Stronger, sure, but what about softer momentsâhands brushing over your sides, pulling you closer?
Your thighs clench involuntarily, and the heat rising to your cheeks has nothing to do with the sun.
âYouâre staring.â
Daeâs voice pulls you back to reality.
âIâm not staring,â you say, too quickly, shifting your sunglasses down to try and hide your expression.
âYou are,â she teases, smirking. âI mean, I donât blame youâlook at him.â
You huff, feigning indifference. âWhen did he get so⊠big?â
âJosh says heâs been hitting the gym hard in LA,â Dae says, taking a lazy sip of her drink. âWork stress or something. Whatever it is, itâs working for him. And Mingyu too, for that matter.â
Your gaze flickers to Mingyu, whoâs equally shirtless and equally distracting. Heâs leaner than Nic, but just as tall, his arms roped with muscle, his easy grin radiating confidence.
Dae leans in closer, dropping her voice conspiratorially. âIf things donât work out with Nic, you could always try your hand at Mingyu. Save a horse, ride a cowboy.â
âDae,â you hiss, elbowing her, though you canât help the laugh that bubbles up.
She shrugs, entirely unrepentant, her grin widening. âJust saying. Your options are very tall and very broad right now.â
Before you can respond, the game wraps up with Joshua letting out a triumphant cheer, and Johnny collapses onto the grass in mock defeat. The boys gather near the water, catching their breath.
Josh heads your way, a mischievous glint in his eye. âHey, babe,â he calls to Dae.
She barely has time to react before he scoops her up, slinging her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing.
âJosh!â she shrieks, laughing as she flails. âPut me down!â
âNope.â He strides confidently toward the water, ignoring her protests, and wades in until heâs waist-deep before dunking them both under with a laugh.
The others follow, kicking off shoes and tossing towels aside. Nic lingers, glancing up toward you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it seems like heâs about to say something.
But Mingyu beats him to it.
âYou just gonna sit there admiring the view,â he calls from the bottom of the steps, his grin playful, âor are you actually gonna join us?â
You roll your eyes, pushing to your feet. âFine.â
You tug off the oversized t-shirt youâd thrown on earlier, revealing the bikini youâd chosenâa simple design, but it fits well. Age has been kind to your figure. Your hips and breasts are fuller now, your waist more defined. You donât miss the way Mingyuâs grin widens as he takes you in, nor the way Nicâs jaw tightens before he quickly turns to Johnny, mumbling something about the water.
As you descend the steps, you stop beside Mingyu, arching a brow. âIf you stare any harder youâre gonna burn a hole through me.â
His grin turns coy. âWho, me? Iâm just appreciating the scenery.â
âUh-huh,â you deadpan, though you canât hide the small smirk tugging at your lips.
The cool water was a welcome distraction as you waded in, but it didnât stop your thoughts from wandering. Mingyuâs easy charm was tempting, but it was the weight of Nicâs presenceâthe unspoken history between youâthat lingered at the edges of your mind. As the morning sun blazed overhead, you couldnât help but wonder which tension would win out by the end of the week.
You leaned back into the cool water, letting it lap against your shoulders as Mingyu floated closer. His easygoing smile was impossible not to return, and his playful energy seemed to dissolve any tension lingering in the air.
âYou know,â he started, tilting his head as he treaded water, âI didnât peg you as the lake-swimming type.â
You raised a brow, matching his grin. âWhat gave it away?â
âOh, just the whole polished professional vibe,â he teased. âI figured youâd be more into heated pools or, I donât know, champagne on yachts.â
You scoffed, splashing a bit of water in his direction. âWow, way to stereotype.â
Mingyu laughed, dodging the splash dramatically. âHey, Iâm just sayingâitâs not every day you see someone who can pull off surgeon chic also out here braving the elements.â
âSurgeon chic? Braving the elements?â you repeated, incredulous. âItâs a lake, not the Arctic.â
âStill,â he said, grinning as he swam a slow circle around you. âIâm impressed. Multitalented, arenât you?â
You rolled your eyes, though you couldnât help but smile. âWhat about you? Do you always talk this much when youâre swimming?â
âOnly when Iâm trying to distract myself from how cold the water is,â he admitted, mock-shivering for effect. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, âOr when Iâm trying to keep someoneâs attention on me.â
You smirked, narrowing your eyes at him. âSubtle.â
âSubtlety is overrated,â he quipped, his grin widening. âBut hey, itâs working, isnât it?â
You splashed him again, laughing as he yelped in protest. âYouâre impossible.â
âAnd yet,â he said, blinking water from his eyes with a wide smile, âhere we are.â
The sound of laughter carried over from the shore as the others waded back into the lake. Johnny, forever the instigator, suggested a round of shoulder wars, and the idea was immediately met with enthusiasm.
Josh hoisted Dae onto his shoulders with ease, her laugh ringing out as she adjusted herself. Johnny waved Nic over. âCâmon, big guy. Youâre carrying me.â
Nicâs eyes widened slightly, but he shrugged, wading over and lifting Johnny onto his shoulders without much effort. âHappy now?â
âEcstatic,â Johnny replied, his arms raised in triumph.
Mingyu turned to you with a playful smirk, extending a hand. âLooks like itâs you and me, princess. Ready?â
You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. With surprising gentleness, he guided you up, steadying you until you were perched above the water.
âComfortable?â he asked, glancing up at you.
âNot bad,â you admitted, gripping his shoulders lightly. âJust donât drop me.â
âNever,â he replied, his tone mockingly gallant.
The game began with Dae and Johnny immediately going after each other, their laughter and taunts echoing over the water. You and Nic locked eyes briefly as you balanced on Mingyuâs shoulders, and something unreadable flickered in his expression before Johnny distracted him with a war cry.
Mingyuâs hands were steady on your calves as he maneuvered you into position. âYouâre gonna let them win?â he teased, nodding toward Dae and Josh.
âNot a chance,â you shot back, leaning forward to push against Dae.
For a few moments, it was pure chaosâsplashing water, shouted challenges, and laughter ringing out. Mingyu was solid beneath you, matching Joshâs strength easily, but Dae was relentless. She managed to shove you just enough that you wobbled precariously, though Mingyu adjusted quickly, keeping you upright.
âClose one,â he said, grinning up at you.
âFocus,â you shot back, swatting at Dae again.
At some point, Johnny made his move, lunging toward you and Dae simultaneously in a fit of uncoordinated glory. You and Dae both shrieked as the impact sent water flying, and you toppled sideways with a loud splash.
When you surfaced, sputtering, Nic was already helping Johnny back to his feet, shaking his head at his antics. Mingyu appeared beside you a second later, slicking his hair back with a grin.
âNot bad, partner,â he said, his tone teasing. âYouâve got some fight in you.â
You smirked, splashing him lightly. âYou were a decent support.â
Across the water, Nicâs gaze flickered your way, his expression unreadable before he turned back to Johnny. The look lingered in your mind longer than you wanted to admit, even as the group dissolved back into casual laughter and chatter.
Mingyu drifted closer, his playful grin firmly in place. âSo, do I get points for being the most entertaining person here?â
You snorted, splashing a little water his way. âIs that what this is? A competition?â
âEverythingâs a competition,â he teased, brushing water from his face. âAnd I think Iâm winning. You laughed, didnât you?â
âOh, please,â you shot back with a smirk. âI laugh at Johnnyâs dad jokes, too. Doesnât mean youâre special.â
Mingyu clutched his chest in mock-offense, a dramatic gasp escaping him. âWow. Here I thought we were building something. Guess Iâll have to rethink my choices.â
You laughed, shaking your head. âMight be a good idea.â
âNoted,â he said, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he leaned back in the water. âBut for the record, I think Iâm still ahead of Johnny.â
âIâll give you that much,â you conceded, the easy banter making it harder to stay in your own head.
But as you glanced back toward the group, the fleeting weight of Nicâs earlier look was still there, unshakable.
The afternoon unfolds lazily around you as you stretch out on a cane chair, the sun casting a warm glow over everything. The air is rich with the scent of the lake, fresh grass, and the faintest hint of wood smoke. Itâs a perfect day, easy and unhurried, with nothing pressing and no rush to be anywhere.
You watch as Joshua and Nic sprawl out on the lawn, deep in conversation. Joshuaâs laugh rises above the hum of the world, light and familiar, while Nic listens intently, nodding along with whatever Joshua is saying. Thereâs something grounding about the way they interact, a friendship thatâs built on years of trust. You can almost feel the weight of it, the comfort theyâve always had with one another. Daeâs head rests in Joshuaâs lap, her eyes closed as she listens to the conversation lazily, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his jeans. The scene is easy, peaceful, and yet, you canât escape the undercurrent of tension that pulls at your chest every time your eyes flicker over to Nic.
Mingyu flops down into the chair next to you, pulling your attention away from the group. He stretches, cracking his neck, before settling into a relaxed slouch. His presence is a welcome distraction, a change of pace from the quiet storm brewing in your mind.
âYou look like youâre in deep thought,â Mingyu remarks, his voice teasing but with a hint of concern. âWhatâs going on in that head of yours?â
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. âJust⊠watching everyone,â you reply, settling into the chair more comfortably, one leg draped over the armrest. âTrying to catch my breath, I guess.â
Mingyu tilts his head, glancing over at the group on the lawn, then back to you. âYeah, itâs a good vibe today,â he agrees. âEveryone looks so relaxed. I like that.â He stretches his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. âFeels like a long time since Iâve had a day like this.â
You raise an eyebrow, half-smiling at him. âYou, taking a break? What do you even do when youâre not working?â
He lets out a dramatic sigh, sinking deeper into his chair. âYou know, the usual. Travel, work, annoy people.â He glances over at you. âLike Iâm doing right now.â
âMm, youâre not the worst,â you tease, your smile growing as you let your gaze shift back to the others. Nic is still talking with Joshua, his voice carrying across the lawn, but thereâs a softness in his posture now, like heâs more at ease.
Mingyu follows your gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment. âYou seem very fond of Nic,â His voice is casual, but you catch the hint of curiosity behind it.
You freeze for a split second, caught off guard by his statement. You hadnât expected him to notice, or at least not comment on it. But Mingyu is like thatâsharp in ways you donât always expect.
âYeah,â you say carefully, letting out a slow breath. âWe used to be really close in college, but time and life just got in the way. Itâs strange seeing him after so long.â You leave it at that, not ready to get into the mess of it all. Not now, anyway.
Mingyuâs eyes soften, though he doesnât press further. âItâs good to see you looking peaceful,â he says with a gentle smile. âWhatever happened, itâs obvious youâre doing okay now. I respect that.â
You nod, grateful for his understanding, and the conversation shifts away from the past as Mingyu begins to talk about his latest photography project. He shows you a few pictures on his phone, explaining the stories behind themâplaces heâs traveled, moments heâs captured. He talks about it with such passion that itâs easy to get lost in his words, the way his face lights up as he describes the scenes.
In some ways, it feels like a distraction you didnât know you needed. But as Mingyu talks, your mind drifts back to Nicâhow he looks at you, how heâs always been there, in his own way, even when you both tried to distance yourselves from each other.
âHave you been to Seoul?â Mingyu suddenly asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You blink, realizing youâve missed part of what heâs said. âSorry, what?â
Mingyu laughs. âI asked if youâve been to Seoul. I know youâve traveled a lot. You strike me as someone who would enjoy the culture there.â
âI have, actually,â you reply, smiling softly at the thought. âJoshua roped me into a trip with him and Dae not long before I did my post-grad.â
Mingyu grins. âIâve got a few spots I need to take you to next time. If youâre up for it, that is.â
You raise an eyebrow, giving him a playful look. âAre you offering a tour guide service, Mingyu?â
âAbsolutely,â he says with mock seriousness, âIâm a professional at it. No oneâs better.â
You laugh, the sound light and unburdened for a moment. It feels nice to let go of the tension, even if itâs just for a little while. But as the conversation continues, you canât ignore the fact that your mind keeps returning to Nicâhis presence, his silence, his eyes on you. The knot in your stomach tightens again.
Eventually, Theo and India join the group, and the energy picks up again as everyone starts chatting and laughing. You let yourself relax into the moment, but something still lingers in your chest. Youâre starting to feel the weight of the past more and more. And you canât help but wonder when youâll be ready to put it down.
After lunch, the sun hangs lazily in the sky, the afternoon heat beginning to soften as the shadows stretch longer across the villa grounds. You find yourself walking slowly, your feet brushing the warm stones as you make your way back down to the waterâs edge. The sound of the waves lapping gently against the rocks is soothing, and you sit at the base of the stone steps, letting the cool breeze from the lake wash over you. The world around you feels peaceful, distant, like a moment you could easily lose yourself in if you allowed it.
But you donât.
Your thoughts keep circling back to Nicâhis presence, his silence, the way heâs been watching you from the corners of your vision, like heâs waiting for something. You donât know what that something is, but youâre starting to feel the weight of it, the heavy undercurrent of a past that wonât let you go.
Itâs not long before you hear the soft crunch of footsteps on gravel, and you donât need to turn to know who it is. Nicâs voice reaches you before he does, low and tentative.
âMind if I join you?â
You glance over your shoulder, and for a moment, your heart stutters. Thereâs something in his eyes, a softness thatâs hard to place, but you donât bristle. You nod, shifting slightly to give him space, and he lowers himself onto the step beside you, leaving a small distance between you. The silence settles over the two of you like an old, familiar friend, though itâs different now. More fragile.
Nic watches the lake for a moment before speaking again, his voice quiet. âYou and Mingyu seem to be getting along pretty well.â He doesnât look at you as he says it, his gaze fixed on the water in front of him.
You chuckle, the sound coming out a little bitterer than you intended. âI donât really know the guy. Heâs just a sweet talker.â You glance at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. âDoes it bother you?â
Nic exhales, shifting on the stone. âA little. Yeah.â He pauses, then glances at you, his expression softening. âIt reminds me of how we used to be, you know? All the teasing, all the jokes⊠the way weâd just be there for each other.â
Something flickers in your chest, but you canât quite place it. You tilt your head, studying him for a moment. âItâs funny, though,â you say, the words tasting dry on your tongue. âThat it bothers you now. After all this time.â You turn your gaze back to the water, watching the ripples dance in the fading light. âItâs a little late, donât you think?â
Nic doesnât respond immediately, and for a moment, the only sound is the gentle lapping of the water against the stones. You feel the weight of the conversation hovering, suspended in the air, but thereâs no rush to fill it. Not yet.
Finally, he speaks, his voice softer now, almost tentative. âI didnât realize what I had until I lost it.â
You donât look at him, but the words settle into you, a reminder of all the things left unsaid. A reminder that maybe, just maybe, he regrets the way things ended between the two of you. You wonder if thatâs enough.
Itâs not. Not yet.
Instead, you just nod, letting the moment linger, your heart a mix of confusion and something else you canât quite name.
After a long pause, you let out a breath. âItâs strange, you know. I donât even know how to talk to you anymore. Itâs like weâre strangers, but⊠not.â You shake your head, frustrated with your own inability to make sense of things.
Nic turns to face you now, his voice low but steady. âI know.â
Thereâs a beat of silence between you, and for a moment, you almost feel the weight of your past self and who you are now collide. Itâs uncomfortable, raw, and you donât know how to move past it. But you also know that this isnât something you can avoid forever.
âMaybe itâs just the way things are,â you say finally, shrugging. âMaybe weâre just⊠supposed to be like this. With everything thatâs happened.â
Nicâs eyes soften at your words, and he leans back against the step, his arms folded across his chest. âMaybe.â
You sit in the quiet with him, both of you staring at the water as the evening light begins to dim. Neither of you speaks again, but the air between you feels different nowâheavier, maybe. But also lighter in a way, as though the words have started to open something thatâs been shut for too long.
The silence stretches between you, the water lapping at the stones below. Itâs almost like youâre both holding your breath, waiting for the next words to be said.
Finally, you break the quiet, your voice softer now, tinged with something that feels like release. âI donât want to keep being angry at you, you know? Itâs exhausting, and itâs never actually gotten me anywhere.â You shrug, though itâs more of a surrender than an answer. âI guess I just wanted answers. I still do.â
Nic is still for a moment, processing your words, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours. Thereâs something heavy in his eyes, an apology that seems to be hanging on the edge of his tongue.
When he speaks, itâs almost as though heâs talking to himself more than you. âIâm sorry that I left you to carry that alone. It wasnât fair. I know that now.â His voice drops a little, quieter, like the weight of the years has finally hit him.
You feel a shift inside, the heaviness of his admission pressing against the tight knot in your chest. Itâs not everything, but itâs enough. Enough to make you exhale deeply, to loosen the grip youâve held on the anger, even if just for a moment.
The soft sound of the water fills the silence again. You turn your gaze toward the lake, letting the words settle. âI donât know what the right thing to do is⊠but I donât want to keep carrying all of this.â You glance at him, your expression guarded but tired. âMaybe⊠maybe I just need time.â
Nic doesnât press, doesnât offer anything more. He just nods slowly, as if he understands that this is only a small step. Itâs not forgiveness, not yet, but itâs something. You can feel the weight of the years beginning to lift, if only just a little.
DAY FOUR
The morning unfolds in a haze of sunlight and warmth, the air alive with the scent of coffee and maple syrup. Youâre tucked into one of the rattan chairs with Dae and Yeri, your legs curled up beneath you as you cradle a mug of coffee. The villa feels slower today, the kind of quiet that makes you forget the world beyond its stone walls.
The boys are scattered across the terraceâJoshua stretched out on a lounger with a book, Theo and Nic lazing in chairs nearby. Nicâs head is tilted back, his face toward the sun, his posture uncharacteristically relaxed.
Dae glances at you over the rim of her mug, her expression curious. âSo⊠things between you and Nic seem a little less⊠icy today.â
Your heart skips at the observation, though you try not to show it. âItâs nothing,â you murmur, shrugging as casually as you can manage. âWe just⊠talked a little last night.â
Yeri leans forward, her interest piqued. âTalked? Like, really talked?â
âNot really,â you say quickly, taking a sip of your coffee. âJust enough to make it less weird, I guess.â
Dae hums, clearly unsatisfied. âAnd?â
You glance toward Nic without meaning to. Heâs still lounging, his face unreadable, but the memory of last night lingersâhis voice, the softness in his eyes, the way heâd apologized without trying to make excuses. It had felt⊠different.
âAnd itâs fine,â you say finally, your tone clipped. âWeâre fine.â
Yeri smirks. âSure you are.â
Before you can protest, Mingyu strides onto the terrace, a triumphant grin plastered across his face. Heâs balancing a platter piled high with golden pancakes in one hand and a bowl of syrup in the other. âBreakfast is served,â he declares proudly, setting the food down on the table in the center of the group.
âAbout time,â Theo groans, already reaching for a plate.
âHey, perfection takes time,â Mingyu shoots back, snagging a pancake for himself before flopping into a chair.
You grab one as well, drizzling it lightly with syrup. The first bite is warm, fluffy, and just sweet enough to feel indulgent. âOkay, Iâll admit it,â you say, glancing at Mingyu. âThese are good.â
He beams. âI accept your praise.â
Even Nic chimes in, his voice filled with rare levity. âI hate to admit it, but these might be the best pancakes Iâve ever had.â
Mingyu looks genuinely pleased, throwing an exaggerated bow in Nicâs direction. âComing from you, Iâll take that as the highest compliment.â
Nic doesnât respond, too focused on his plate, but the easy smile on his face is impossible to miss.
Dae nudges you gently with her elbow, her voice low. âLook at him. Itâs like pancakes cured his bad mood.â
You laugh softly, shaking your head. âMaybe I shouldâve just offered him pancakes five years ago.â
Dae snorts into her coffee, and Yeri joins in, her laugh a bright, unrestrained sound that makes you smile despite yourself.
The rest of the morning is filled with the kind of light, easy chatter that feels like a reprieve. Mingyu laps up the compliments, Joshua ribs him about his âculinary aspirations,â and even Nic seems lighter, his usual edges softened by the warmth of the day. And though you tell yourself youâre not watching him, you catch yourself glancing his way more often than youâd like, your heart tugging in a way youâre not quite ready to admit.
Before long, Dae ushered everyone toward the cars, her excitement contagious. âAlright, folks, next stop: a winery I found just outside of town. Trust me, itâs adorable, and the wineâs supposed to be incredible.â
Mingyu fell into step beside you as you climbed into one of the cars his tone teasing. âYouâre not one of those people who pretends to know what âhints of oakâ means, are you?â
You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. âPlease, I barely know the difference between red and white.â
He smirked, leaning in just slightly. âGood. That means I get to teach you a thing or two.â
âLucky me,â you quipped, trying not to notice the way Nic, sitting just behind you, shifted slightly in his seat, his gaze flicking between the two of you.
When you arrived at the winery, the view stole your breath. Rolling hills stretched out in every direction, the vines bathed in golden sunlight. The group gathered near the tasting room, Dae already chatting animatedly with one of the hosts.
As the first round of glasses was handed out, Mingyu sidled up to you again, raising his glass in a mock toast. âTo learning the fine art of wine tasting. Stick with me, and youâll be a pro in no time.â
âIs that right?â you asked, amused.
âAbsolutely,â he said, his grin wide. âStep one: swirl dramatically. Bonus points if you look like youâre solving the mysteries of the universe.â
You laughed, swirling your glass with exaggerated flair. âLike this?â
âPerfect,â he said, tipping his glass toward you.
Nic, who had been standing nearby, cleared his throat lightly, stepping closer to join the conversation. âOr,â he interjected, his tone even, âyou could just enjoy it without the theatrics. Not everything needs to be a performance.â
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. âWhatâs the fun in that?â
The three of you shared a laugh, the moment settling into something easy but charged. You caught Nicâs gaze briefly, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you before Mingyu nudged your arm gently, pulling your attention back to him.
The rest of the tasting continued in a similar rhythmâMingyuâs playful banter, Nic hovering close enough to remind you of his presence, and you, caught somewhere in between, savoring the warmth of the day and the strange comfort of old wounds slowly beginning to heal.
As the tasting wound down, Daeâalways a step aheadâwaved everyone toward a narrow set of stairs tucked behind the winery. âCome on,â she called over her shoulder, her excitement infectious. âThe host said thereâs a rooftop up here. Best view of the sunset in the region.â
The group followed, glasses in hand, and you emerged onto a rustic rooftop scattered with mismatched chairs and weathered tables. Above, the sky had begun to glow with shades of gold and blush, casting the surrounding hills in a warm, dreamy light.
As the sun dips lower, bathing the rooftop in a golden glow, you and Dae find yourselves alone again, tucked into the corner of the cushioned bench with the best view of the vineyard. Mingyuâs laughter echoes somewhere off to the side, his voice blending with the others as the group lingers over the last of the wine. You tilt your head back against the seat, staring at the streaks of orange and pink across the sky.
Dae nudges your leg with hers. âSo⊠Mingyu.â
You groan, turning to give her an incredulous look. âOh, not you too.â
She grins, unfazed. âWhat? Iâm just saying, heâs been glued to your side all day. You canât tell me you havenât noticed.â
You shrug, trying to play it off. âHeâs just being friendly. Thatâs how he is.â
Dae raises an eyebrow, her tone playful but pointed. âFriendly, sure. But come on, heâs keen, and you know it.â
You shake your head, exhaling a long breath. âHe doesnât even know me, Dae. Itâs not like that.â
Her expression softens, and she leans back slightly, studying you. âOkay, fine. Then what is it?â
You pause, your gaze drifting toward the group. Mingyu is mid-conversation with Yeri and Theo, his smile as bright and easy as ever. For a moment, you feel the familiar comfort of his presenceâthe lightness he brings, the ease of being near him.
âHe reminds me of⊠how things were with Nic,â you admit quietly, your voice almost lost in the rustling breeze. âBack when it was simple. Just the two of us, in our little bubble, with no expectations. The stupid jokes, the way he always felt just close enough to put me at ease. Itâs likeâŠâ You hesitate, trying to find the right words. âItâs like Iâm holding on to that feeling through Mingyu. Not on purpose, butâitâs there.â
Dae doesnât reply right away. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer, more serious. âSo what do you actually want?â
The question makes you stiffen, and you glance at her, brow furrowing. âI donât know.â
âOkay,â she says patiently, shifting to face you fully. âLet me make it easier for you. If this week ends and you and Nic go back to your separate livesâif you go another five years, or maybe forever, having nothing to do with each otherâwould that make you happy? Would you be content with that?â
The question hits you like a punch to the stomach, and your breath catches. The thought of never seeing Nic again, of walking away from this week without even a shred of closure or connection, sends a hollow ache through your chest. You swallow hard, staring at your hands.
âNo,â you whisper, the word heavier than you expected.
Dae nods, as if she already knew the answer. âThen maybe you need to start building a bridge, rather than burning it.â
Her words settle over you, their weight undeniable. You glance back toward the group, your gaze lingering on Nic. Heâs leaning back in his chair, listening to something Joshuaâs saying, but thereâs a distant tension in his expression that you recognize all too well.
You take a shaky breath, Daeâs advice echoing in your mind. Maybe itâs time to stop running from the past and start figuring out how to face it.
Daeâs voice pulls you from your thoughts, her tone both gentle and insistent. âAll youâve wanted this entire time was some answers, right?â
You nod slowly, the knot in your chest tightening as you glance toward Nic again.
âThen maybe itâs time you go and get them,â she continues, leaning forward slightly. âYou might not totally hate what you find, is all Iâm saying.â
Her words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, all you can do is sit with them, your pulse thrumming in your ears. You know sheâs right. Youâve spent so much time running circles in your own mind, replaying what happened, questioning every moment, every word, every feeling. The answers youâve been searching for arenât going to fall into your lapâtheyâre sitting a few feet away, leaning back in a wicker chair with a glass of wine in hand.
But the idea of crossing that invisible line, of asking Nic to meet you halfway, feels terrifying. What if you donât like what you find? What if his reasonsâhis answersâarenât enough to fill the hollow spaces he left behind?
Still, Daeâs gaze doesnât waver, her confidence in you steady and unshakable. âYouâre not going to figure it out by sitting here, you know,â she says, her voice softer now. âGo talk to him. Youâre braver than you think.â
You hesitate, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Finally, you draw in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you meet her eyes.
âMaybe,â you murmur, a flicker of determination breaking through the uncertainty. âMaybe youâre right.â
Dae smiles, leaning back with a knowing glint in her eyes. âOf course Iâm right. Now, go.â
You sigh, dragging your hands down your face in exasperation. âIâll do it tomorrow. Today has been too long, and Iâm tired.â
Dae arches an eyebrow at you, her arms crossing loosely over her chest. âOkay,â she says slowly, the word drawn out like sheâs testing it on her tongue. âDo it tomorrow. But you must actually do it. Donât just say it and then decide youâre better off avoiding it entirely.â
Her tone is firmer now, but itâs not sharp. Itâs grounded in a kind of steady care that only Dae can manage. Sheâs not pushing you for the sake of pushing; sheâs doing it because she knows you need it. Because she knows you.
You let out a low groan, tilting your head back to stare at the fading blue of the sky. âWhy do you have to be so relentless?â
âBecause I know you,â Dae replies, deadpan, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. âYouâll talk yourself in circles until the weekâs over, and then youâll leave here thinking itâs easier to let it all stay broken. But I also know thatâs not what you want.â
Sheâs rightâof course, sheâs rightâbut the idea of acknowledging that aloud makes your stomach twist. âIâm not running for the hills,â you mutter, your tone defensive but lacking bite.
âNot yet,â Dae says with a faint smirk. Then she softens again, her expression gentling. âIâm not saying itâll be easy, but you owe it to yourself to at least try. And if you donâtâŠâ She shrugs. âWell, Iâll just keep bugging you about it. Every. Single. Day.â
You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. âYouâre impossible.â
âAnd you love me for it,â she quips, a playful grin tugging at her lips before she leans back in her chair.
The thing is, sheâs not wrong. You do need someone to keep you grounded, to hold you accountable when your instincts tell you to retreat. And deep down, you know sheâs the exact person to do it.
âAlright,â you say finally, your voice quieter now. âTomorrow. Iâll talk to him tomorrow.â
Daeâs grin widens, and she gives you an exaggerated thumbs-up. âThatâs my girl. Now, drink your wine and relax. Youâve got one more evening to psych yourself up.â
After Daeâs talk, youâd thought maybe you could relaxâenjoy the final stretch of the day, give yourself some peace before tomorrow. But instead, youâre stuck in the quicksand of your own thoughts, sinking deeper with every passing minute.
In the shower, youâd mapped it all out: what youâd say, what Nic might say in return. You planned for every possibility, every version of him that could show up. The defensive Nic. The remorseful Nic. The version of him who might even still be indifferent. What would you say to that Nic? You played the scenes in your head on repeat, fine-tuning your retorts, overanalyzing his potential expressions.
By the time you crawl into bed, your chest is tight, your limbs restless. You turn over once, twice, then a dozen times more, trying to find a position that feels less suffocating. The air in the room feels still, like itâs waiting for something, and you hate it.
What if he doesnât give you the answers you want? Worse, what if he does? What if the things youâve been holding onto for so long crumble under the weight of an explanation?
The clock on your phone ticks past midnight, and your mind is still racing. You picture Nic as he was this afternoon, stretched out on the grass, laughing at one of Joshuaâs jokes. You picture him at the lake, sitting beside you, his voice low and careful as he apologized. You picture him five years ago, standing in the doorway of your shared dorm room for the last time, his silhouette etched into your memory like a scar.
What could he possibly say tomorrow to make any of it make sense?
You flip your pillow over, searching for the cool side, as if that will somehow quiet your thoughts. It doesnât.
Instead, you start running through scenarios again, like rewinding a tape. Every question you might ask him, every possible answer he could give. How would you react if he said he was scared? If he said he didnât know what he wanted back then? If he said he still doesnât know? What would you say if he turned it all back on you?
You roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling, exhaustion creeping into the edges of your body but refusing to take hold. You feel like youâre arguing with a ghost in your own head, spiraling until you canât make sense of anything anymore.
Finally, when the weight of your thoughts becomes too much to bear, your body wins over your mind. The edges of your consciousness blur, your breathing slows, and sleep pulls you under, not gently, but out of sheer necessity.
DAY FIVE
The day begins before youâre ready for it.
Your eyes flutter open, and the weight hits you all at onceâthe anxiety pooling in your stomach like cold lead. Itâs the same feeling you get when youâre preparing to stand on a stage, the audience waiting for you to stumble. The same feeling you get when a patient walks in with a case you know will test every ounce of your skill. Except this time, itâs worse. This time, itâs Nic.
You lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling as the early morning light filters through the curtains, feeling every ounce of your unease wrap around your chest like a vice. It takes you right back to college, to that night when everything fell apart. You can almost feel the ghost of his lips brushing your forehead, hear the quiet resignation in his voice as he said goodbye. The memory alone is enough to make you feel hollow.
When you finally get up, youâre quieter than usual. The group gathers for breakfastâcoffee brewing, light chatter filling the spaceâbut you barely pick at your toast. You sit on the edge of conversation, offering the occasional hum or nod but contributing little else.
Joshua notices first. He always does.
âYou okay?â he asks, voice low enough that only you can hear.
You glance at him, startled out of your daze. âYeah, Iâm fine,â you murmur, but even you can hear how unconvincing you sound.
He doesnât press, but his worry lingers in the way his gaze flickers back to you every few minutes.
By midday, itâs obvious youâre not yourself. At lunch, Joshua tries to pull you into a conversation about an old story from collegeâsomething about a prank Dae once pulled on himâbut you zone out halfway through, staring into the middle distance. When he calls your name, you blink at him, startled, as if youâve just surfaced from underwater.
âIâm fine,â you insist again when Joshua frowns at you.
But youâre not fine. You feel like your insides are twisted in knots, your stomach churning with a mix of dread and anticipation. Youâre acutely aware of Nicâs presenceâhow he occasionally glances your way with a furrowed brow, as if heâs trying to figure out whatâs wrong but doesnât know how to ask.
At one point, you start to think you might actually be sick. Your palms are clammy, and your chest feels tight. Itâs Dae who pulls you aside after lunch, sensing the storm brewing just beneath the surface.
âI found a steakhouse,â she says, her tone light but her gaze sharp. âJosh and I were thinking of taking a few of us there tonight. Theo and India have plans with some friends, so itâll just be a small group. What do you think?â
You nod automatically, grateful for the distraction.
Dae eyes you for a moment longer, then offers a small smile. âItâll be fun. You need a good mealâand maybe some wine.â
She doesnât say it outright, but you know what sheâs doing. Sheâs pulling you out of your own head, giving you something else to focus on. And for the first time all day, the tension in your chest loosensâjust a little.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a haze. You busy yourself with menial tasks, anything to keep your hands occupied and your thoughts at bay. But the anxiety never fully leaves, sitting heavy in your stomach like a storm cloud on the horizon.
Youâre slouched on the love seat, a book in your lap that youâre not really reading. The pages might as well be blank for all the attention youâre paying them. Your fingers trail idly over the edges, lost in your thoughts, the tension in your body building with each minute that passes. Your stomach churns with the same nervous energy youâve been battling all day, the anxiety too thick to shake off.
You donât hear him at first.
Itâs not until the soft creak of the door pulls you from your thoughts that you look up and find Joshua standing in the doorway, his arms crossed loosely as he leans against the frame. His brow is furrowed, eyes gentle but with a hint of concern.
âYouâve been on edge all day,â he observes, voice quiet, like heâs trying not to startle you.
You donât respond immediately, not sure what to say. You can feel the weight of the conversation you know is coming, the one youâve been dreading, hanging over you.
Joshua steps closer, his voice softening as he drops down to sit on the arm of the love seat, next to you. âDae mentioned you were planning to talk to Nic⊠seriously talk to him. Howâs that going?â
A sigh slips from your lips, the sound thick with frustration and uncertainty. Youâve barely been able to think about anything else, and now that the time is actually here, your mind feels like itâs running in circles. Youâve prepared a thousand things to say, and yet none of them seem right anymore.
âI donât even know where to start,â you admit quietly, your fingers tapping against the book absently.
Joshua studies you for a moment, the corner of his mouth turning up in a rueful smile. âI guess I canât pretend to be Nic,â he says, his voice teasing but warm, as if trying to bring some lightness into the air. âBut maybe I can help you figure out what to say.â
You let out a small, dry laugh, shaking your head. âYouâre too much of a softie for this to work.â
âI am,â he agrees easily, not offended in the slightest. âBut I know both of you. And I care about both of you. I donât like seeing you two stuck.â He pauses for a moment, the weight of his words settling between you. âI just want you to be okay, yâknow?â
You look down at your hands, the weight of his sincerity making something heavy shift in your chest. âI know,â you murmur. âI just⊠Iâm not sure I know how to fix any of it. Itâs so complicated, Josh.â
He nods, his expression softening. âYeah, I know it is. But maybe the first step is just being honest. With him. With yourself. Thereâs no easy way to do this, but youâve got to start somewhere.â
He pauses again, considering you for a long moment before speaking again. âWhat is it you need from him? Whatâs the one thing youâve been waiting to hear from him all these years?â
You blink, caught off guard by the simplicity of the question. Itâs so straightforward, yet it feels like something youâve been afraid to admit for a long time.
âI just want to know why he left,â you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. âI want to know why he couldnât be honest with me. Why he just⊠shut me out.â
Joshuaâs gaze is steady, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. âOkay. So thatâs where you start. You need to say that. Donât sugarcoat it, donât try to make it easier for him. Just tell him how it felt. And let him answer.â
You nod slowly, the words hanging in the air between you. For the first time that day, you feel a flicker of clarity, a small shift in your perspective. It wonât be easy, and it wonât be perfect, but maybe itâs enough to begin.
Joshua gives you a small, reassuring smile. âYouâll figure it out. I know you will.â
You manage a tight smile back, the pressure in your chest lightening just a little. âThanks, Josh. For being here.â
He shrugs, his grin widening. âAlways, you know that.â Then he stands up, patting you on the shoulder. âIâll be around if you need me. But youâve got this.â
You watch him walk away, the weight of his words lingering in the air. You might not have all the answers yet, but you feel a little more ready to face what comes next.
The steakhouse is tucked into a cobblestone corner of the small Italian town, the kind of place that practically begs you to stay awhile. Its warm glow spills out into the narrow streets, blending with the soft hum of a nearby fountain. The scent of garlic and rosemary wafts from the open kitchen, mingling with the quiet hum of conversation and the clink of wine glasses. Itâs intimate in the way that wraps around you like a soft blanket, and for a brief moment, it tempers the anxious edge thatâs been eating away at you all day.
Joshua and Nic are seated at one end of the long table, across from each other. Joshua is in his element, throwing lighthearted jabs and pulling Nic into a story about some trip they took years ago. You notice that Nic seems⊠lighter. His laugh comes easier, and thereâs a genuine warmth in his eyes thatâs been missing for the last few days.
You, however, found yourself quieter than usual. The knot of nerves in your stomach hadnât left, but the company and setting muted it into a low hum instead of the roaring wave it had been earlier.
Mingyu, ever attuned, seemed to notice your subdued energy. His usual flirtations softened into gentle humor, his tone warm and light when he spoke to you. âYou didnât order the steak well done, did you?â he teased with a faux scandalized expression, earning a small smile from you.
âDonât worry,â you replied softly, poking at your potatoes. âI know better than to offend the chefâs sensibilities.â
Dae glanced your way a few times throughout dinner, her sharp eyes catching the moments you zoned out or stared a little too long at the flame of the candle in front of you. She didnât say anything, but the look she gave you was pointed, as if to say: You know what you need to do.
The walk back to the villa was quieter than usual. You stuck close to Dae and Yeri, the three of you a little slower than the rest of the group, who were caught up in banter a few paces ahead.
Dae fell in step beside you, her voice low but direct. âSo⊠are you going to talk to him, or what?â
The question hung in the crisp night air, sharp and slightly challenging.
âIâll get to it,â you muttered, trying to deflect.
Dae stopped walking, her hand lightly gripping your arm to pause you too. âNo, you wonât just âget to it.â Youâre going to do it. Tonight. Stop putting it off.â
You swallowed hard, her words piercing through your hesitations like a blade. She wasnât wrong, and the accountability in her tone forced you to confront the truth: you had been stalling.
By the time you reached the villa, the group began to splinter off, some heading to their rooms, others lingering to chat in the living room. Your heart hammered as you lingered near the staircase, watching Nic head toward the back terrace with a glass of wine in hand.
You took a deep breath, steadied yourself, and followed him.
âNic?â you called softly, your voice carrying into the quiet.
He turned, surprised to see you there. âHey,â he said, his brow furrowing slightly as he set his glass down. âWhatâs up?â
You crossed your arms, the nerves twisting in your stomach. âCan we talk?â
Nicâs expression softened, his head tilting slightly as he took you in. âOf course,â he said gently, motioning to the seating area nearby. âLetâs sit.â
The terrace was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees and the distant chirp of crickets. The villa lights cast a warm glow over the stone pathways, but you barely noticed any of it as you perched on the edge of the rattan lounger, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Nic sat beside you, his posture more relaxed than yours, though his fingers tapped against the armrest of his chairâan old tell of his own nerves.
You glanced at him briefly before your eyes darted back to your hands, picking at the skin around your nails. The anxious habit was one youâd never quite outgrown, and now, with your pulse hammering in your ears, it was back in full force.
Nic watched you for a moment, his voice breaking the silence. âYou look like youâve been carrying something heavy all day,â he said, softly enough that it didnât feel like pressure, but firmly enough that you knew he wasnât going to let you brush it off. âTake your time, though. Iâm here.â
You nodded, forcing yourself to exhale slowly. The words were lodged somewhere between your chest and your throat, an awkward lump of anxiety and frustration. You knew what you wantedâclosure, answersâbut the act of asking for it felt monumental.
âYou told me the other night that I could talk to you,â you started, your voice quieter than youâd intended. You cleared your throat and straightened slightly, forcing yourself to look at him. âThat if there was something I wanted to say, I could. And⊠I need to.â
Nic didnât respond immediately, but he nodded, his dark eyes steady on yours. The openness in his expressionâno walls, no defensive edgeâmade you feel both reassured and exposed.
âIâve been sitting on these questions for five years, Nic,â you said, your voice trembling slightly. âFive years of trying to figure out what the hell happened between us. And IâI need to know. I canât leave here without at least trying to make sense of it.â
You paused, searching his face for reluctance or discomfort, but there was none. His expression remained steady, his head dipping in a subtle nod of encouragement.
âOkay,â he said simply. âAsk. Iâll answer as best as I can.â
You swallowed hard, gripping your hands together to keep them still. The anxious niggle in your stomach was back in full force, sharp and unrelenting.
âWhy did you leave?â you asked, the words breaking the silence like a snapped string. âNot just after graduation, but⊠us. Why did you leave us?â
Nicâs brow furrowed slightly, his lips parting as if to respond, but then he hesitated. You saw the flicker of something in his eyesâguilt, maybe, or regretâbefore he rubbed the back of his neck and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
âIt wasnât because I didnât care,â he started, his voice low, steady. âI need you to know that first. I cared so much it scared the hell out of me.â
You swallowed, trying to control the lump that had formed in your throat. âWhat were you so scared of, Nic?â The words came out almost too quietly, but you couldnât stop them. âI cared too. It wasnât just about losing the guy I was sleeping withâI lost my best friend, my confidant. And youââ You stopped yourself, trying to steady your breathing. âYou never even tried to reach out. Why? Why didnât you even try?â
You saw the flicker of regret pass over his face, and your heart sank. You had imagined so many answers, but none of them were quite like this. Still, you pushed on, the hurt and confusion boiling over. âI thought you wouldnât want to hear from me. I thought Iâd just be a nuisance to you.â
Nicâs jaw clenched as he exhaled, eyes dropping briefly to the ground. Then, he looked up, meeting your gaze again with a rawness you hadnât seen before. âI loved you,â he said, voice cracking slightly. âI love you. And thatâs exactly why I shut you out. I thought if we got too involved, if I let you get too close, Iâd be asking you to take a risk you didnât deserve. I couldnât ask you to follow meâcouldnât ask you to uproot your life for me when I wasnât sure if I could make anything work.â
The world seemed to tilt beneath you, the air sucked out of your lungs as you processed what heâd just said. The weight of it settled in your stomach like a stone, and for a moment, you couldnât speak. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words felt trapped in your chest.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you exhaled slowly, as if trying to catch your breath. âYou loved me,â you whispered, almost too quietly to hear yourself. âYou loved me, and you just⊠walked away?â
Nicâs eyes searched yours, desperate for understanding. âI never wanted to hurt you, not like that. I was trying to protect you from something I wasnât sure I could give you. And that just made everything worse.â
âSo I deserved to be shunned, instead?â Your voice cracks as the words tumble out, a mix of frustration and hurt. âYou donât get to decide what I deserve, Nic.â You take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything you never said until now. âI was grown then, and Iâm grown now. I wouldâve fought for you. We wouldâve worked it out.â
Nicâs face tightens with frustration, but thereâs something softer beneath it. He runs a hand through his hair, gaze turning away for a moment. When he speaks again, itâs a near whisper. âI donât know what else I can say, okay? I canât take it back, and God knows if I could, I would. If we could go back, and you told me you loved me, I wouldâve said I loved you too, and youâre rightâwe wouldâve worked it out.â
The weight of his words presses down on you like a boulder, but you canât shake the feeling that itâs too late for anything to change. You rise from your seat, feeling the impulse to put distance between you and him, as if the cold night air could somehow steady your racing heart. Each step toward the edge of the terrace feels like a small attempt to escape, to regain some control.
The wind brushes against your skin, cold and biting, but it does little to quell the heat of the tears that are falling down your cheeks, each one stinging more than the last. You wipe them away, but they keep coming, and the cool air only makes it worse, as if everything inside you is unraveling in front of him.
Nic doesnât follow you right away. He stays where he is, giving you space, yet you feel the heaviness of his stare on your back, a silent plea for you to turn around and speak, to say something more.
The silence between you stretches on. The words youâre both avoiding hang thick in the air. Itâs suffocating, unbearable.
Finally, you turn back toward him, your voice quiet but firm, almost like a challenge. âWhat do you want, Nic?â
The question lingers in the air, sharp and direct. Youâve asked yourself that question a thousand times, but now, finally, youâre asking him. You want to know if this is just a moment of guilt, a fleeting regret, or if thereâs something more. Something real. Something that could make everything worth it.
Thereâs a pauseâa moment where the only sound is the faint hum of the villa settling in the night.
âI donât know,â he says softly at first, the words unsure, as though heâs still grappling with his own heart, trying to understand the depth of what heâs feeling. But then, his chest rises with a slow, deliberate breath. His eyes lock onto yours, steady and raw. âNo, thatâs not true.â
Your heart beats faster, and in the weight of the silence, you can feel the shift. Itâs as though heâs finally letting go of whatever wall heâd been holding up all this time.
âI want you,â he says, his voice thick with emotion. âI want another chance. I want us. And Iâm not gonna back out again. Iâll do whatever it takes to prove to you that Iâm in this for the long haul. I wonât run when it gets hard. Not this time.â
The words hit you like a gust of wind, each one pulling you deeper into the current of everything youâd once wanted. But a part of youâan aching, cautious partâhesitates.
You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. You want to believe him. You want to let yourself go, to believe in the possibility of something real again. But youâre not sure. Not yet.
âWhy does it matter, Nic?â Your voice cracks, the frustration spilling over, mixing with the raw ache in your chest. âAt the end of the week, youâll go back to LA and Iâll go back to New York. And weâll both be in fucking shambles again for no good reason. Iâm buying into the practice next year. Iâm not gonna follow you this time.â
Your words echo between you, the raw truth hanging in the air. You donât want to admit it, but youâre scared. Youâre scared of doing this again, of letting yourself fall for him only for him to leave again. You donât know if you can risk that.
Heâs silent for a moment, his face unreadable. But then, out of nowhere, he blurts it out, his voice rushing forward like itâs been desperate to escape.
âIâm moving back.â
The words are out before he can fully process them. His eyes widen with the weight of what heâs said, and the air grows heavier, the silence thickening between you. Itâs like the ground beneath you both has shifted, and neither of you knows exactly what to do with the revelation.
You blink, your mind struggling to catch up. âWhat?â Your voice shakes, both in disbelief and the sudden hope that flickers to life, only to be quickly masked by fear.
âMy firm is opening another branch in Manhattan.â Nic sits straighter, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, almost as if the weight of his words is finally catching up with him. âI put my hand up to get it up and running. I get back next month.â
âWhy are you telling me this?â
Nic stands, his voice steady but softer now as he searched your face. âBecause I need you to know Iâll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. Whatever that looks like for youâtaking it slow, starting over⊠Iâll even let you beat the brakes off me in Central Park, if thatâs what you need.â
His jaw tightened, and his gaze softened as he added, âItâs not about what I want anymore. Itâs about what you needâwhat you want. I just want the chance to try, to prove I can be better for you.â
You stared at Nic, his words hitting you like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from your chest. He was standing so close, the intensity in his eyes almost too much to bear.
âI canât,â you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. âThis is too much. I just⊠I canât deal with this right now.â
Nicâs face fell, but he didnât try to stop you as you stepped back, putting space between the two of you. âI understand,â he said quietly, his tone steady but tinged with sadness.
Without another word, you turned and walked away, the weight of his confession pressing heavily on your shoulders. You made your way back to your room, closing the door softly behind you before sinking onto the edge of the bed. The air in the room felt too still, too suffocating, as your mind raced with questions and emotions you didnât know how to handle.
How could you trust him again? Could you even let yourself hope that things might be different this time?
The questions circled in your mind as you curled up on the bed, your thoughts too loud to allow for any real clarity.
A quiet knock at the door pulled you from your spiral, and before you could respond, the door creaked open. Dae peeked in, her warm, familiar smile softening as she took in your state. âHey,â she said gently. âCan I come in?â
You nodded, too drained to say much. She slipped into the room and crossed over to you, settling beside you on the bed. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around you, and you leaned into her, letting the tears that had been building all day finally fall.
âIâm sorry,â you murmured, your voice muffled against her shoulder. âThis was supposed to be your week, and I feel like Iâm ruining it.â
âDonât be ridiculous,â Dae said firmly, pulling back just enough to look at you. âYouâre not ruining anything. Youâve been carrying a lot for a long time, and itâs okay to feel overwhelmed. Thatâs what friends are for.â
You wiped at your face, exhaling shakily. âNic said heâs moving back to New York. And that he still loves me. I donât know what to do, Dae. What if he runs again? What if I let myself hope, and he just breaks me all over again?â
Daeâs expression softened further, and she hesitated for a moment before speaking. âI need to tell you something. I overheard Nic and Joshua on the phone a few months ago. Joshua was helping him find a place in Manhattan because he knew Nic was planning to move back. He didnât want to say anything until it was certain, but Nicâs been serious about coming back for a while now.â
You blinked at her, processing her words. âYou knew?â
âI didnât want to pressure you or plant any ideas in your head,â Dae admitted. âBut for what itâs worth, I think he means it. Heâs always regretted how things ended with you, and I really believe heâs willing to try this time.â
You sighed, your heart aching with the weight of your indecision. âWhat if itâs not enough? What if I let myself believe in him again, and it just falls apart?â
Dae squeezed your hand, her gaze steady. âBaby, I donât have a crystal ball. I canât answer that for you. But I do know that youâve always been strong, and whatever you decide, youâll be okay. If youâre willing to take the chance, though⊠maybe itâs worth it.â
Her words lingered as you sat together in the quiet, her arms a steady comfort as you tried to make sense of your tangled emotions.
Joshuaâs entrance broke the stillness, his familiar warmth filling the room as he set a glass of water on the nightstand. He eased into the chair beside the bed, leaning back in that effortlessly casual way he always did, though his eyes flicked between you and Dae with quiet concern.
âAlright,â he began lightly, breaking the tension. âWhich one of you do I have to yell at first?â
A small laugh escaped you, watery but genuine. âDefinitely me. Iâve been the walking definition of a mess.â
Dae rolled her eyes, her arm still draped around your shoulders. âDonât listen to her, Josh. She actually apologised to me for ruining our wedding week.â
Joshuaâs head snapped toward you in mock offense. âYou what?â he said, his voice exaggeratedly incredulous. âYou think you could ruin this week? Please. It would take something a lot more catastrophic than your emotions for that to happen.â
âI mean it,â you muttered, heat creeping into your face. âI feel like Iâve been dragging all my baggage in here when this is supposed to be your time.â
âFirst of all,â Joshua said, holding up a finger, âyouâre family, and family gets to bring their baggageâespecially when itâs that guy,â he added with a sly smirk. âSecond, you think Dae and I donât love you, flaws and all? Youâre practically my younger sister. Trust me, this week is better with you here, even if youâre crying in my guest room.â
The words, and the easy affection behind them, hit you square in the chest. Your lips twitched into a small smile despite yourself. âYou guys are way too nice to me.â
âAbsolutely not,â Dae interjected, squeezing your hand. âWe love you. No qualifiers, no conditions. And you apologising? That just makes me want to shake you, but like, in a very loving way.â
Joshua grinned, clearly relieved to see a hint of your usual spark. âYeah, youâre banned from apologising from now on, okay? Especially when itâs my fault for inviting Nicâs dumbass in the first place.â
You laughed, the sound rough but genuine. âYou two make it sound so simple.â
âItâs because weâre geniuses,â Joshua deadpanned, leaning forward, a playful glint in his eyes. âBut seriously, weâve got you. No matter what. If you need a moment, take it. If you want to talk, yell, cryâwhateverâyouâre not going to scare us off. And Nic? Heâs not going anywhere either.â
Dae gave an approving nod. âWeâve got your back, whatever you decide. But if it helps, we both think Nic is serious this time. Heâs never stopped caring about you, and weâve seen him wrestle with how badly he screwed up. He knows what he lost.â
Joshuaâs voice softened, though it retained its teasing edge. âI mean, itâs hard not to love you. Even when youâre being dramatic.â
You rolled your eyes but felt your heart warm at their combined support. âI donât know what I want yet,â you admitted, feeling the weight of the uncertainty settle over you again.
âYouâll figure it out,â Joshua said simply, standing and ruffling your hair lightly as he passed. âBut just so weâre clearâyou can take all the time you need, and weâre not letting you off the hook for being in our lives. Got it?â
The tenderness in his voice, mixed with his usual humor, steadied you. Daeâs arm tightened around you, and for the first time in days, the knot in your chest loosened just a little. You didnât have all the answers, but for now, you had them. And that was enough.
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
The dental lab was a ghost town at this hour, the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the quiet buzz of the sterilizers the only signs of life. Everyone else had long since packed up, leaving you and Nic alone amidst the neatly arranged tools and rows of workstations. The air was crisp, almost too cool, but you didnât mind; the silence felt like a cocoon.
You were bent over a set of mock impressions, the tiny details demanding all of your focus. Or at least, they should have. Instead, your attention kept slipping every time you caught Nic watching you from across the room. Heâd been âstudyingâ for the past hour, but the way his chair creaked as he shifted, the way his pen twirled lazily between his fingersâit was clear his focus was anywhere but his notes.
âYouâre going to burn a hole through that thing,â he finally said, his voice low and teasing.
You glanced up, your heart giving a small, familiar flutter at the sight of him leaning back in his chair, legs stretched out, his dark eyes heavy-lidded but alert. âMaybe if someone actually studied, theyâd have less time to critique my technique.â
âMaybe,â he said, standing and stretching in one fluid motion, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of his toned stomach. âOr maybe,â he continued, making his way over to you, âsomeone needs to be reminded to take a break.â
âNicâŠâ You meant it as a warning, but it came out breathless, your voice betraying you before he even reached your workstation.
He didnât stop. He stepped behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His hands found the edge of the desk, caging you in, and his breath skimmed the shell of your ear.
âTake a break,â he murmured, his voice rough and coaxing, as if it wasnât a suggestion but a plea.
Your fingers froze over the plaster mold in your hands. You could feel him everywhereâhis presence, his warmth, his scent. He leaned in closer, just enough to let his lips graze the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and your grip faltered.
âNicâŠâ This time it was less of a warning and more of a surrender.
He turned your chair toward him, his hands firm but not rough, and knelt slightly, bringing his face level with yours. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might say something. Instead, he just kissed youâslow at first, but with a mounting desperation that sent a shiver down your spine.
Your hands flew to his chest, not to push him away but to anchor yourself. He kissed you like he couldnât help himself, like heâd been holding back all evening and had finally given in. His tongue brushed against yours, and a soft sound escaped you, making him groan low in his throat.
âI canât focus when youâre around,â he admitted against your lips, his hands sliding up to cup your face. âScrub pants do you wonders, you know that?â
âIf you get my after hours access revoked, youâll be a dead man,â you muttered, but your words lacked any real bite, especially when he kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, as though he was savoring the moment.
Before you knew it, you were standing, the chair pushed back and forgotten. He guided you to the edge of the desk, lifting you effortlessly onto it, his hands firm on your thighs. The cool metal against your skin was a sharp contrast to the heat of his body pressing against yours.
You tilted your head back, letting him trail kisses down your neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. There was something in the way he touched you, kissed youâlike he couldnât get enough, like he was memorizing every inch of you for a moment when he might not have the chance again.
âNic,â you whispered, your voice catching as his lips found the hollow of your throat.
He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like yearning. âTell me to stop,â he murmured, his voice thick with restraint.
But you didnât. You couldnât.
Instead, you pulled him back to you, letting the kiss deepen, letting it drown out the world. The lab, the tools, the looming examsâthey all fell away. All that mattered was him, the way his hands framed your face, the way he whispered your name like it was the only thing he could remember.
TWO WEEKS LATER
The warm light of the setting sun filtered through the cracked dorm window, casting golden streaks across the rumpled sheets. The faint chatter of students outside was barely audible over the hum of the fan, and the air was heavy with the scent of summer and sweat.
Nic lay sprawled on his back, his arm tucked beneath his head, his other hand tracing idle circles on your thigh. He was relaxed, his breathing steady, his dark hair still damp from exertion. You lay beside him, your heart still racingânot just from what youâd just done, but from the way he looked. The lazy smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth, the sharp angles of his jawline softened by the golden hour light, the slight sheen of his skin.
God, he was beautiful.
Your eyes lingered on the slope of his nose, the way his lashes fanned across his cheek as he blinked slowly. It wasnât just his looks, though; it was everything about him. The way he teased you endlessly but always had your back. The way his laugh made your chest feel like it might explode. The way he touched you, like you were something precious.
The thought consumed you, spreading like a wildfire through your chest. You loved him. You didnât know when it had happenedâmaybe it had been gradual, or maybe it had been all at onceâbut you loved him, wholly and irrevocably.
And the words slipped out before you could stop them.
âI love you.â
The room seemed to still. The lazy patterns Nic had been tracing froze, and his head turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours.
âWhat?â
You swallowed hard, the weight of the admission crashing down on you. There was no taking it back now. âI said I love you,â you repeated, softer this time.
He didnât respond immediately. Instead, her stared at you, totally blank for a few beats. âYou⊠You donât mean that,â he said, his voice carefully neutral.
Your stomach twisted, and you pushed yourself up to meet his gaze. âYes, I do. How could I not?â
He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. The warmth in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something guarded. âCome on,â he said lightly, a weak smile tugging at his lips. âWeâre just⊠having fun, right? Blowing off some steam before everything changes.â
The casualness in his tone hit you like a punch to the gut. âJust having fun?â you echoed, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.
Nic rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. âYeah. I mean, weâre good at this, you know? No complications, no expectations.â
The ache in your chest deepened, but you forced yourself to nod, the pain silent and all-consuming. How could he not see it? you thought. How could he not feel it?
You wanted to argue, to tell him that it already was more, but you couldnât bring yourself to say the words. Instead, you turned away from him, staring out the window. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.
Nic sighed softly behind you, but he didnât say anything else. Eventually, his breathing evened out, and you knew heâd fallen asleep. But you lay awake, the ache in your chest growing with every passing moment.
When he woke hours later, the tension still hung thick in the air. Nic moved around the room quietly, gathering his things. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. âSee you later,â he murmured, and then he was gone.
Three days later, you walked into the library, the strap of your backpack digging into your shoulder. The quiet hum of hushed conversations and the rustle of pages greeted you as you made your way to your usual table. Joshua and Dae were already there, heads bent over their notes, but your heart sank when you saw Nic seated across from them, headphones in place.
He didnât look up when you approached, but his posture stiffened ever so slightly.
âHey!â Dae greeted you with her usual cheerfulness, sliding a chair out for you. âYouâre late.â
âGot caught up,â you said shortly, avoiding Nicâs gaze as you sat down.
Joshua looked between the two of you, his brow furrowing. âEverything okay?â
âFine,â Nic said at the same time you mumbled, âYeah.â
The awkwardness was palpable. Daeâs smile faltered, and Joshua raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension.
Nic, seemingly determined to avoid any meaningful interaction, adjusted his headphones and focused on his laptop. You busied yourself with your notes, the silence between you louder than any words could have been.
The interaction that broke the tension was small, almost insignificant. Nic reached for a book that was just out of his reach, and his fingers brushed yours as you instinctively handed it to him. The contact was brief, but it was enough to make your stomach flip and your heart ache all over again.
âThanks,â he muttered, not meeting your eyes.
Dae, who had been watching the exchange with growing concern, leaned in closer to you. âOkay, seriously, whatâs going on?â she whispered.
You shook your head. âNot now,â you whispered back, your voice tight.
You and Dae lingered behind in the library, packing up your things in a heavy silence. Joshua and Nic had left a few minutes earlier, their quiet conversation trailing off as the door swung shut behind them.
Dae studied you carefully, her lips pursed in thought. âOkay, what is going on?â
You blinked at her. âWhat do you mean?â
She rolled her eyes, closing her laptop firmly. âYou know exactly what I mean. You and Nic. A week ago, you were practically joined at the hip, and now youâre treating each other like strangers. Did you guys have a fight or something?â
Your stomach churned at the mention of his name, and you ducked your head, fiddling with the corner of one of your cue cards. âItâs nothing, Dae.â
âYouâre such a shit liar,â she said, exasperated. âJosh and I arenât blind, you know. Weâve noticed the way youâve been avoiding each other, and itâs weird. You two were always⊠good to each other.â
Your chest tightened at her words, the memories flooding back unbidden. The way Nic used to pick up your favorite lunch without being asked. How heâd stay late at the lab just to be your volunteer when you needed someone for a prac exam. The way his hand always found the small of your back when you walked side by side.
âYou were so good together,â Dae continued, her voice softening. âI mean, Josh and I worked it out ages ago that you were⊠you know.â
Your head snapped up, your heart pounding. âYou knew?â
âOf course, we knew,â she said, smirking a little. âYou werenât exactly subtle about it. The way youâd look at each other, how youâd always find some excuse to sit next to him or how heâd hang on your every word. It was kind of sweet, actually. So we decided to let you guys have your thing. But nowâŠâ Her smile faded, replaced by concern. âNow it feels like you canât even stand to be in the same room as him, and I have no idea why.â
You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you. For a moment, you considered brushing it off again, but the knot in your chest tightened. You couldnât keep this bottled up anymore.
âI told him I loved him,â you said quietly, the words barely above a whisper.
Dae froze, her eyes widening. âYou what?â
You shifted uncomfortably, your voice trembling. âIt just came out. We were in my dorm, and it was so⊠comfortable, you know? I wasnât planning to say it, but I did. And heââ You broke off, your throat tightening.
Daeâs hands found yours, her brow furrowing. âAnd he what?â
âHe brushed it off,â you said bitterly. âSaid we were just friends blowing off steam. Like it didnât mean anything. Like I didnât mean anything.â
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. âYouâre kidding.â
You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. âItâs been eating me alive all week, Dae. I thought⊠I thought we were more than that. It always felt like more. And now heâs just⊠gone. Like he doesnât care at all.â
Dae was silent for a moment, her expression shifting between shock and anger. Finally, she let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand over her face. âThat idiot.â
You blinked at her, startled by the venom in her tone.
âI mean it,â she said firmly. âNicâs an idiot. Because thereâs no way he didnât care about you. Not with the way he looked at you. And now heâs just throwing it all away because⊠what? Heâs scared?â
You let out a shaky laugh, wiping at your eyes. âI donât even know. He hasnât said a word to me since that night. He just⊠shut down.â
Daeâs gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. âIâm so sorry. I wish I could fix this for you.â
âItâs not your fault,â you said, your voice cracking. âI just⊠I donât know what to do, Dae.â
She hesitated, biting her lip. âThereâs something else,â she said carefully.
Your stomach sank. âWhat?â
âI overheard him and Josh talking a while ago,â she admitted. âNic got offered an internship in L.A., some big shot criminal defense firm.â
The room seemed to tilt for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. âHeâs leaving?â
âI think thatâs why heâs been so distant,â she said quickly, her tone apologetic. âHe probably didnât know how to tell you.â
You stared at her, the weight of her words settling over you like a heavy blanket. âSo he was just going to leave,â you said hollowly. âWithout saying anything. Without⊠anything.â
Dae squeezed your hand tighter, her eyes brimming with sympathy. âI donât know what he was thinking, but I do know this: Nic is an idiot, but heâs not heartless. Heâs just⊠scared. Of what, I donât know. But this doesnât mean he didnât care about you.â
You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. âIt doesnât matter. He made his choice.â
Dae hesitated, then pulled you into a tight hug. âIâm here for you, okay? Whatever you need. And for the record, you didnât deserve this. Not even a little.â
You buried your face in her shoulder, the tears finally spilling over. For the first time, you let yourself grieve the weight of what youâd lostâand the realization of what you might never have again.
After that day, everything changed. Nic stopped showing up to your study sessions altogether, leaving his usual spot at the table empty and the air heavier than it had ever been. Whenever Joshua invited him somewhere and Nic caught wind that youâd be there, he suddenly had plans he couldnât cancel, excuses that sounded thinner each time they were shared.
The last time you saw him was at a graduation party a few weeks later. Heâd stayed on the opposite side of the room the entire night, never once meeting your gaze. No apology. No explanation. Not even a simple well-wish. And just like that, he was gone.
Life moved on, as it always does. Joshua and Dae stayed in New York after graduation, rooting themselves in the city that had always felt like home to all of you. They kept their ties to Nic and to you, carefully navigating the distance and emotions that neither of you seemed ready to face.
They watched as you buried yourself in your studies, earning a coveted spot in a prestigious postgraduate program. They celebrated with you when you joined a prolific practice, one that would eventually make you one of the most sought-after specialists in the city.
And through it all, they watched you heal. Slowly, painfully, but bit by bit. They saw you piece yourself back togetherâbrighter, sharper, stronger than before. But even as the years passed, the cracks remained, faint but unyielding, a quiet reminder of the part of yourself youâd once handed over to someone who hadnât known how to hold it.
DAY SIX
The next morning, Mingyu found himself lingering by the villaâs breakfast table, his thoughts far from the casual chatter around him. He couldnât shake the tension that had simmered between Nic and you the night before. It was clear that something more than just playful flirting had been behind your exchange, and he hadnât fully understood the depth of the storm that had been brewing between you.
Josh, who had been quietly sipping his coffee, noticed Mingyuâs brooding expression and raised an eyebrow. âYou look like youâve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, man,â he commented, setting his cup down with a soft clink. âWhatâs going on?â
Mingyu stews for a few moments before sighing. âI overheard [Y/N] and Nic on the terrace last night. I didnât realise how serious it was to them. Sheâs so lovely and heâsâŠI donât know. He seems to care for her a lot, and Iâm worried I might have made it worse.â
Joshua tilted his head, a sympathetic smile softening his expression. âThereâs a lot to it, but trust me, itâs not your fault. You werenât to know, and honestly? They probably needed a shove in the right direction.â
Mingyu frowned, leaning back in his seat as if trying to make sense of the tension heâd witnessed. âWhat happened between them, if you donât mind me asking? I feel like Iâm missing pieces.â
Josh hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting as if replaying memories in his mind. âNic and I went to high school together, as you know. They met through me in college when Dae and I started seeing each other. The four of us were inseparable and Nic and her became close fast, and by senior year, they were basically best friends who happened to be sleeping together.â
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, surprised by how casually he mentioned it. Joshua caught his look and let out a dry laugh. âOh, donât get me wrong, it was obvious to everyone but them that it wasnât just casual. The way they were togetherâit ran so much deeper than friends with benefits. I think they both knew it, but they were too scared to admit it.â
His voice softened, and a faint trace of sadness crept into his tone. âThen Nic got offered an internship in Los Angeles. It was a huge deal for him, but he didnât know how to tell her. And before he could figure it out, she told him she loved him.â
Mingyuâs eyebrows shot up. âWhat did he do?â
Josh sighed, his lips pressing into a tight line. âHe iced her out. Completely shut her down. I think he panickedâhe was so scared of trying to rearrange his life for her that he just decided itâd be better to throw the towel in. We used to study together every Thursday, without fail and at some point he stopped showing up. If I invited him somewhere and he knew she would be there, suddenly he had other plans.â
Mingyu nodded slowly, piecing together the fragments of the story. âThey seriously havenât spoken since then?â
Josh shook his head, his expression pained. âNo. And the worst part? Nic told me after he moved that he loved her too. He admitted it was the biggest mistake heâd ever made, but by then, the damage was done. She worked so hard to rebuild herself after he left. Dae made Nic promise not to reach out because she knew she needed time to heal. And she did heal, in her own way, but Nic broke her in ways that I donât think even she could fully explain.â
Mingyu exhaled, his chest heavy with the weight of their history. âThatâs⊠brutal.â
âIt was,â Joshua agreed softly, his gaze distant. âAnd I donât think she was just upset that he left. She was angry because he didnât give her a choice. She wouldâve fought for him if heâd made even the smallest effort to keep her in his life. But he didnât. He ran.â
âAnd now?â Mingyu asked, his voice cautious.
Joshâs lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. âNow, theyâre grown up. Theyâre different people with the same wounds. If they want to fix it, theyâre the only ones who can.â
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, his mind whirring as he connected the dots. âYou donât think I made it worse?â
Joshuaâs gaze snapped back to him, his smile warm and reassuring. âPlease donât feel responsible for their quarrels, Gyu. This isnât on you. Itâs their responsibility to fix whatâs broken. You just got caught in the crossfire.â
âI still feel like I should apologise to her,â he said, his tone laced with guilt. âI didnât mean to stir anything up.â
Josh tilted his head, considering him for a moment. âI donât think itâll hurt, but I promise, she wonât blame you. Sheâs very reasonableâwhen people deserve it.â His smile turned playful, teasing him just enough to ease the tension in his shoulders. âAnd you definitely deserve it.â
Mingyu chuckled softly, though his expression grew serious again. âSheâs been through a lot, huh?â
Josh nodded. âShe has. But sheâs also strong, and she knows what she wants. If you do talk to her, just be honest. Sheâll appreciate it.â
Later that morning, Mingyu finds you stretched out on the lawn with a book in hand, the golden light of the late morning sun casting a warm glow over the villa grounds. A slight breeze ruffles the pages of Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, and you pause to smooth them out, your gaze focused but peaceful. The serene moment is a stark contrast to the charged energy of the past few days.
Mingyu approaches cautiously, hands stuffed into his pockets as if heâs unsure of how to start. âThatâs pretty heavy reading for a vacation,â he says lightly, nodding toward the book as he comes to a stop a few feet away.
You glance up at him and offer a small smile. âSometimes you need something grounding. Keeps your mind clear when things get⊠complicated.â
Mingyu winces, running a hand through his hair. âYeah, about thatâŠâ He hesitates, clearly weighing his words. âDo you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you.â
Setting the book aside, you sit up and gesture for him to take a seat on the grass beside you. âSure. Whatâs on your mind?â
He lowers himself down, resting his elbows on his knees. For a moment, he just stares out at the horizon, gathering his thoughts. âI wanted to apologise. For⊠well, for anything I said or did that mightâve made things more tense between you and Nic. I honestly had no idea about your history, and if Iâd knownâŠâ He shakes his head. âI just feel like I mightâve put you in an uncomfortable position.â
You study him for a moment, then shake your head with a gentle smile. âMingyu, you didnât do anything wrong. You couldnât have known, and honestly, itâs not your responsibility to tiptoe around our mess. Thatâs on Nic and me to figure out.â
His expression softens, though the guilt lingers in his eyes. âJosh told me a bit more about what happened. I just feel like I walked into the middle of something thatâs been brewing for years and accidentally stirred the pot.â
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. âMaybe you did stir it a little, but sometimes things need to be stirred. Itâs not like we were doing a great job of dealing with it on our own.â Your gaze drifts to the villa, where the weight of the past few days still lingers. âIf anything, I should thank you. Youâve been nothing but kind and genuine, even when things got messy.â
Mingyu relaxes slightly, though his expression remains serious. âI mean it, though. I really respect you. I donât know if Iâd have the strength to even be here, let alone handle everything as gracefully as you have.â
You raise an eyebrow at that. âGracefully? Iâm pretty sure half the villa heard me crying last night.â
âMaybe,â he says with a sheepish grin. âBut honestly? Youâre handling it. Youâre facing it head-on, even if itâs messy. That takes guts.â
His words catch you off guard, and you blink, letting them settle. âThanks, Mingyu,â you say softly. âThat means a lot.â
He nods, a warm sincerity in his gaze. âFor what itâs worth, I think you should do whatever feels right for you. Whether thatâs giving him another chance or walking away for good. Just⊠make sure itâs what you want, not what you think youâre supposed to do.â
You consider his words carefully, feeling a mix of gratitude and clarity. âThatâs good advice,â you admit, your voice thoughtful. âIâll keep it in mind.â
The two of you sit in companionable silence for a while, the weight of the conversation lifting slightly. Eventually, Mingyu stands, brushing grass off his pants. âAlright, Iâll let you get back to your heavy Roman philosophy. But if you ever need to ventâor just a distractionâyou know where to find me.â
You smile up at him, genuinely touched by his support. âThanks, Mingyu. Really.â
As he walks back toward the villa, you pick up your book again, but your mind lingers on his words. The clarity they bring feels like the first piece of calm amidst the chaos, and for the first time in days, you feel like youâre starting to figure out what you truly want.
After Mingyuâs apology, a sense of relief settles over you, but it doesnât erase the questions or the lingering confusion. You spent the morning with Dae, trying to keep your mind occupied with light conversation, but your thoughts keep drifting back to everything thatâs happened. The answers youâve gained are helpful, but they donât completely solve the storm raging inside of you. Youâve gained some closure, but thereâs still so much youâre trying to process, especially now that you know Nic wants another chance. Youâre unsure if youâre ready to give it, or if you even want to.
Looking for solitude, you escape to the garden, where the tranquil beauty of the estate contrasts sharply with the turmoil inside. Surrounded by the calm lake and vibrant flowers, you try to make sense of your emotions. The stillness around you feels like a reflection of what you wantâpeace and clarityâbut itâs hard to silence the unease. Youâve been holding onto so muchâanger, regret, and fear. Nicâs confession that he loves you, and his desire to try again, makes it all more complicated. Can you trust him again? Can you trust yourself?
The midday sun cast its warmth across the rippling lake, the golden light reflecting off the water like scattered diamonds. The air smelled faintly of wildflowers and pine, a comforting mix that youâd come to associate with this place. You were stretched out on a towel on the grass, letting the sun kiss your skin, trying to soak in the quiet and keep your thoughts at bay.
A soft rustle of gravel caught your attention, followed by the unmistakable weight of his presence. You didnât need to open your eyes to know it was Nicholas. Even after all these years, you could still feel him before you saw him.
When you did glance up, he stood a few feet away, one hand playing with a ring on his other, his gaze flickering between you and the lake. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, and in his hand was a folded piece of paper.
âHey,â he said softly, breaking the silence.
You sat up, shielding your eyes from the sun. âHey.â
He shifted, his thumb brushing over the edge of the paper. âI, uhâŠwanted to give you this.â
Your brow furrowed as you looked at the paper. âWhat is it?â
âA letter,â he admitted, stepping closer but keeping a careful distance. âI wrote it after college. ItâsâŠitâs everything I couldnât say back then.â
Your heart skipped a beat. âWhy didnât you send it?â
He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before he sighed. âDae made me promise not to. She thought it would hurt you more than it would help.â His voice softened. âShe was probably right.â
Your fingers itched to take the letter, but your chest tightened. âWhy now?â
He crouched down, placing the letter on the towel beside you, his gaze steady and purposeful. âI want you to have this,â he said quietly. âI donât expect anything from it, or from you. I just think itâs important for you to know the truth. When youâre ready, read it. Iâll be here, but⊠take your time.â
You stared at the letter, a wave of conflicting emotions rushing through youâcuriosity, fear, and something deeper, more vulnerable that you couldnât yet name. By the time you looked up, Nic was already walking away, his footsteps soft against the gravel path.
Before he disappeared into the distance, he turned back, his voice low as he spoke again. âIâm not running away this time,â he said, a hint of finality in his words. âWhatever happens next, Iâm staying.â His eyes held yours for a long moment, before he gave a small nod and left you alone with the letter.
You sat there, the peaceful sounds of the lake and the distant wedding preparations surrounding you, but you could feel the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. The letter before you seemed to hold the answer to questions you hadnât known how to ask, and now it was up to you to decide whether to open it, to face whatever truths it might bring.
Hey,
I donât know where to start, so I guess Iâll just say Iâm sorry.
Dae told me how bad things have been for you. I canât stop hearing her voice, the way she said it. You donât deserve any of this. You never did. Iâve been trying to convince myself that this is what I wantedâthat running to L.A. was the right thing to do, that leaving everything behind was the only way to get where Iâm going. But every day, I wake up and realize how hollow that is.
You told me you loved me. God, I already knew. Iâve known for a long timeâprobably longer than you did. You didnât say anything I hadnât already felt in the way you looked at me, laughed with me, or trusted me when no one else could. I donât know why I let you say it first. Maybe I was waiting for the courage to admit that I felt the same way.
I didnât handle it the way I should have. I shouldâve told you how scared I wasâscared of messing this up, scared of failing, scared of how much you already meant to me. Instead, I just ran. Because running was easier than staying and facing the possibility that I might not be enough for you, that this thing between us could break under the weight of my fear and ambition.
But it broke anyway, didnât it?
Josh told me to write this down. He said it didnât matter if it was stupid or if youâd never even read itâjust that I needed to get it out of my head. I didnât believe him at first, but he was right. Iâve been carrying this around like a weight tied to my chest, and I need you to know that leaving you wasnât what I wanted. Not really.
I donât know if Iâll ever get the chance to fix this. I donât know if I deserve that chance. But if I doâif somehow you find a way to let me back into your lifeâI promise Iâll fight for you this time. I wonât run. Iâll prove that Iâm not the same stupid, confused kid who thought a job in L.A. was more important than the best thing thatâs ever happened to him.
I donât expect forgiveness. I just needed you to know.
I miss you. More than I thought was possible.
Love, always
Nic
The letter trembled in your hands as you finished reading, your vision blurred by unshed tears. You folded it carefully, your chest tightening as you placed it back on the towel beside you.
It didnât erase the hurtânothing couldâbut it filled in the gaps. It explained the silence, the retreat, the way heâd pulled away when you needed him most. It didnât justify it, but it made it human.
And as much as it stung to relive those memories, something in you softened. The vulnerability in his words, the raw sincerityâthey werenât things youâd ever expected from Nicholas. He wasnât just apologizing; he was baring himself in a way he never had before.
For the first time, you believed he truly regretted what happened. And maybe, just maybe, you believed he was capable of change.
You found him in the villaâs garden, sitting on a low stone bench beneath the shade of a sprawling olive tree. His shoulders were hunched, hands clasped between his knees as he stared at the cobblestone path. The rustling leaves and distant hum of cicadas filled the silence until your footsteps broke through.
He looked up, and his eyes searched yours. There was a flicker of hope in them, but it was tentative, cautious. You could see the way he braced himself, as if ready for whatever blow might come next.
âI read it,â you said, stopping a few steps away.
He stood, stuffing his hands into his pockets, then took a hesitant step closer. âAnd?â
You exhaled, shaking your head softly as you perched on the edge of the bench. âIt doesnât fix everything, Nic. It doesnât take away the pain. But⊠I think I get it now. Why you left. Why you didnât say goodbye.â
Nic sat beside you, not interrupting, just listening. His eyes were focused on the ground, his posture tense but patient, as though he was waiting for you to continue.
You glanced at him briefly, your voice quieter but steady. âIâve spent so long wondering if Iâd done something wrong. If I wasnât enough. But seeing it, reading it⊠it makes it more real, I guess. Youâre not a villain. Youâre not just someone who walked away. You had your reasons. I can see that now.â
His breath hitched, but he didnât speak. His eyes searched yours for any sign of anger or resentment, but you felt only a quiet acceptanceâyour thoughts still swirling, but clearer than before.
âI wonât pretend this makes everything okay. It doesnât erase how it felt, or how I felt. But itâs real, Nic. Youâre not the guy I thought you were. It makes it⊠human.â You paused, looking away, unable to keep the tears in check for much longer. âBut I can⊠understand. Finally.â
Nicâs hand twitched, like he wanted to reach for you, but he held back. His expression softened, and though he didnât speak, there was an understanding between you nowâa fragile crack in the wall that had been between you both for so long.
For a long moment, neither of you said anything. He let you breathe, let you feel it, without rushing in to explain or fix. And for the first time in a long while, it felt like you were beginning to make peace with the past.
Nic broke the silence, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. âIâd like a chance to try again. I know I donât deserve it, but Iâll do whatever it takes to prove Iâve changed.â
You studied him for a moment, his expression open, unguarded. For the first time, it felt like he wasnât just offering you wordsâhe was offering you a piece of himself.
âAnd now?â you asked, your voice careful, cautious.
âIâm moving back to New York in a month,â he said simply. âIâve already taken the job. Iâll be there full-time, and when I am, I want to prove to you that Iâve learned from my mistakes. That I can do better.â
Your lips quirked into a faint, skeptical smile. âWhat makes you so sure Iâll let you?â
âIâm not,â he admitted, a flicker of a smile breaking through his seriousness. âBut Iâm willing to try. Youâve always been worth it, even if I didnât have the sense to see it back then.â He paused, his tone softening. âAnd I know if I screw up again, Joshua and Dae will drown me in the Hudson before you even get the chance.â
You laughed despite yourself, the sound breaking some of the tension. âThatâs probably true.â
âI mean it,â he said, leaning slightly toward you, his voice lowering. âIâve spent years thinking about this. About you. And I know now that nothing I say will ever be enough unless I show you. So this is me, showing you. Iâm here. And Iâm ready to put in the work, no matter how long it takes.â
The sincerity in his words tugged at something deep inside you, though your heart remained guarded. âItâs not just about making promises, Nic,â you said softly. âItâs about proving you can stay. That you wonât disappear when things get hard again.â
âI know,â he said, his eyes locked on yours. âAnd I will. One day at a time. One step at a time. Iâm not asking you to forgive me overnight. I just want a chance to earn it.â
You studied him for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. There was a quiet determination in his expression, a sincerity that felt unshakable. For the first time, you believed he wasnât just saying what he thought you wanted to hearâhe meant every word.
âOkay,â you said finally, your voice soft but resolute. âBaby steps.â
A faint, relieved smile spread across his face, one that reached his eyes. âBaby steps,â he echoed.
It wasnât perfect, and it wouldnât fix everything. But for the first time in years, you felt the tiniest flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward. Together.
You looked at him for a long moment, letting his words settle over you like the warm Italian breeze. There was no denying the sincerity in his voice, no mistaking the quiet resolve in his eyes. This was Nicholasânot the man who ran away, but the one who was willing to stay and fight for you now.
And yet, the hurt was still there, a lingering ache you couldnât shake. But so was the memory of what it felt like to be with himâthe safety, the warmth, the certainty that no one else could ever occupy the space he had carved out in your heart.
Before you could overthink it, you shifted closer on the bench.
Nicâs eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as you closed the distance between you. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, resting your cheek against his shoulder.
For a moment, he froze, like he couldnât believe it was happening. But then he turned slightly and arms came around you, holding you tightly, and he let out a shaky exhale against your hair.
His heart was pounding beneath your ear, so fast and so loud you were certain he could feel it, too. It was such a familiar rhythm, one you hadnât realized youâd missed until now.
Neither of you spoke, but there was no need to. The hug wasnât just an embrace; it was a beginning. The first crack in the walls youâd spent years building, the first tentative step toward letting him back in.
His hand moved up to cradle the back of your head, his touch achingly gentle, and you felt his lips press softly against your hair. âThank you,â he whispered, so quiet you barely heard it.
You didnât respond right away, letting yourself sink into the momentâthe feeling of being back in his arms, of being home in a way you hadnât been in a long time.
Finally, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your arms still looped loosely around his midriff. âDonât make me regret this, Nic,â you murmured, your voice low but steady.
His gaze met yours, unwavering. âI wonât,â he promised.
And for the first time in years, you thought maybeâjust maybeâyou could believe him.
DAY SEVEN
The garden was alive with warmth and laughter, the gentle hum of conversation mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. A few rows of chairs were set out neatly in front of an archway draped in delicate linen and wildflowers, the blooms swaying lazily in the afternoon sun. Everything about the scene felt intimate and magical, the perfect backdrop for the dayâs promises.
On the lawn just off to the side, Joshua and Nic were with NabiâDaeâs niece, her joyful giggles carrying through the air as they took turns chasing her in playful circles. Joshua lifted her high in the air with ease, spinning her around before setting her down so Nic could crouch to her level and join in her antics. There was something achingly tender about the sceneâNicâs easy smile, the way he cradled her like she was the most precious thing in the world. It made your chest tighten and your knees feel a little weak. He looked completely at ease, his sharp features softened by the pure affection shining in his eyes.
You lingered near the garden entrance, letting the moment unfold, but Nic caught sight of you almost immediately. He froze mid-movement, his smile faltering for just a second before returning, this time softer, as his eyes stayed locked on you. Joshua noticed, his gaze darting between you and Nic before a knowing grin spread across his face. Nudging Nic lightly with his elbow, he murmured something you couldnât hear, then patted Nabiâs shoulder as if signaling her to join in.
âTake Nabi with you,â Joshua said, his voice just audible now. âAs backup.â
Nic gave him a look but obliged, standing and brushing off his trousers. As he made his way toward you, Nabi clung to his hand, bouncing excitedly on her toes.
âAuntie!â Nabi squealed, breaking free from Nicâs grip and running the last few steps to throw her arms around you. You laughed, stooping slightly to meet her hug, the warmth of her energy infectious.
âOh, beautiful girl, I missed y,â you cooed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. âYouâve grown so much!â
She stepped back just enough to get a full look at you, her big eyes going wide as she gasped dramatically. âYou look so pretty, like a princess!â
You chuckled, smoothing the fabric of your dress. âThatâs sweet of you to say, Nabi. But I think the real princess here is you. Have you seen your flower crown? Itâs gorgeous.â
Nabi, ever observant, turned her attention to Nic, tugging on his sleeve to pull him into the conversation. âUncle Nic, donât you think she looks like a princess?â
Nicâs blush rose immediately, a soft pink coloring his cheeks as his gaze darted between you and Nabi. He cleared his throat, his usual confidence taking a backseat to something tender and vulnerable. âI do,â he said, his voice quiet but certain. âShe looks beautiful.â
Your chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes lingered on you like you were the only person in the world. Nabi seemed pleased with his response, clapping her hands before Joshua called her name from across the lawn.
âNabi-ya!â Joshua beckoned, his voice light with laughter. He crouched down the ground, saying something in Korean that you didnât understand.
But Nabi did, and she squealed again, running off toward Joshua without a second thought. He gave you a quick wink before turning his full attention back to entertaining Nabi, leaving you alone with Nic.
âSheâs exactly how I picture Dae was as a kid,â Nic said, watching them go with a faint smile.
âCausing trouble between unwitting adults? Pretty much,â you replied, glancing up at him with a grin. âYouâre really good with her. Itâs sweet to see.â
He rubbed the back of his neck, the blush still faintly there. âShe was easy to befriend. I just had to give her a piggyback and promise ice cream later on.â
âYeah,â you agreed softly, the weight of the moment settling between you. âI stopped by Daeâs suite earlier. Sheâs excited, but you know how she gets before big moments.â
âSheâll be fine,â Nic said, his smile warming at the mention of her.
âI donât doubt it,â you said, your voice taking on a gentle fondness. âJosh is going to be a wreck, though. Heâs going to cry the second he sees her.â
Nic chuckled at that, glancing over to where Joshua was fussing with Nabiâs flower crown again. âYouâre probably right. Heâll deny it, but I give it two minutes before the waterworks start.â
âTwo? Thatâs gracious,â you teased, shaking your head. âBut, honestly? Iâll probably cry too. Itâs hard not to with these two.â
Nic hummed in agreement, but you noticed his tie was slightly offâcrooked and loosely knotted, the way it always was when he attempted it himself. Without thinking, your hand reached out, instinct taking over as you caught the fabric in your fingers.
âYou never could do this right,â you murmured, stepping closer as your fingers caught the fabric of his crooked tie.
Nic stilled but didnât move away, his eyes dropping to watch as you carefully loosened the knot.
âAll these years of being a big-shot lawyer and prosecutor,â you teased lightly, your voice soft but steady, âand you still canât figure this out?â
His lips twitched, the corner tugging up in a faint smirk. âGuess some things never change.â
âClearly,â you replied, tugging the tie into a perfect knot and smoothing it down against his chest. You lingered for a brief second, the faint impression of taut muscle below your fingertips prompting a tingle in your knees before you stepped back.
âThere,â you said, finally looking up at him. âThatâs better.â
When your eyes met his, you found him already watching you, his gaze warm and unreadable, a small smile tugging at his lips.
âI donât know,â Nic said, his voice quieter now. âI think it looks better when you do it.â
Your cheeks warmed at his tone, but you gave him a half-smile, trying to keep the moment light. âGood thing Iâm here, then.â
Nicâs gaze softened as he looked at you, something unspoken passing between you as the celebrant called for everyone to take their seats. The air between you felt lighterâless burdened by the years of distance and hurt. It wasnât everything, but it was something, and maybe, for now, that was enough. Together, you made your way to the front row, sitting side by side as the atmosphere shifted, the ceremony moments away. The weight of being at a wedding settled over you both, not heavy or suffocating, but warm and reflective, a reminder of the beauty in love and commitment. Nicâs hand rested on his knee, his fingers brushing yours for just a second before pulling away. It was a quiet gesture, but it said everything neither of you could in that moment.
The ceremony had been intimate, full of raw emotion and quiet vows shared under the archway of wildflowers and linen. After the applause and congratulations faded, Josh and Dae pulled everyone into the garden for photos. They made a point to gather everyone close for group shots, but it wasnât long before the focus turned to the two of youâNic, and you.
âCome on,â Dae urged, tugging at your hand with an almost childlike excitement. âJust one with the original crew. For old timesâ sake.â
Josh beamed as he pulled Nic closer, the four of you automatically falling into place the way you had so many times before. Nicâs arm settled around your waist like a second nature, his hand gripping your hip gently as the photographer guided you all, and you found yourself smiling more naturally than you had in years.
As the camera clicked, you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you, bittersweet and warm all at once. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was like no time had passed at all. These three had been your family onceâJoshâs steady encouragement, Daeâs infectious laughter, and Nicâs quiet, unwavering presence. And now, standing there again, you realized they still were.
âJust one more,â Josh said, his voice light but fond as he glanced at Dae. âFor the wedding album.â
Dae laughed, slipping her arm around his waist. âFine, but I get to pick which one we print.â
As the session wound down, Josh and Dae were swept away for more coupleâs photos, leaving the rest of you to wander back toward the villa. Nic fell into step beside you, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
âThat feltâŠa little like old times, didnât it?â he said after a moment, his voice low and thoughtful.
You glanced at him, his profile softened by the golden hour light. âIt did. Almost made me forget how long itâs been.â
Nic smiled faintly, his gaze fixed ahead as he said, âDoesnât feel that long when weâre all together like that. LikeâŠnothingâs really changed.â
You wanted to say that some things had changedâeverything had, reallyâbut the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just nodded, your footsteps falling into an easy rhythm with his.
By the time you reached the terrace, the space had been transformed for the reception. Strings of lights hung overhead, and the scent of wildflowers lingered in the air. The warmth of the garden gave way to a deeper kind of intimacy, the soft hum of conversation weaving through the evening as you and Nic sat side by side, the laughter and love surrounding you like a bubble that left just the two of you to your thoughts.
You couldnât help but glance at him when he wasnât looking, taking in the way the warm light caught the angles of his face, the faint lines around his eyes that hadnât been there before. Those years apart had added something to himâmaturity, maybe, or wearinessâbut not enough to bury the man youâd fallen for all those years ago. It wasnât the tailored suit or the polished smile or the gold plaque with his name on it that stayed with you now; it was the way heâd looked at Nabi earlier, the way heâd watched Josh and Dae exchange their vows with such a quiet intensity.
He caught you staring and smiled faintly, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to gauge where your thoughts had gone. For a moment, it felt like the two of you were suspended in time, the weight of everything unspoken between you making the air thicker.
The terrace fell silent as Josh rose to speak, his voice steady but rich with emotion. He spoke about Dae with the kind of reverence that only deep, abiding love could inspire, sharing stories that earned both laughter and tears from the small gathering. Dae followed with her own words, her usual confidence softened by the rawness of her affection for Josh.
The speeches struck a chord in you, each word a gentle nudge toward memories you thought youâd buried. You felt Nic shift beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned forward, his attention fixed on the couple at the head of the table. You knew he was thinking about themâabout what they hadâbut you also knew he was thinking about you.
Then, Dae turned her attention to you, her smile mischievous as she raised her glass. âI think itâs only fair,â she said, her voice light and teasing, âthat someone else says something too.â She pointed a perfectly manicured nail directly at you. âYouâve known both Josh and me longer than almost anyone here. You should say a few words.â
Your heart leapt into your throat, and you shook your head quickly. âOh, no, I couldnâtââ
âYou absolutely could,â Josh interrupted with a grin, gesturing for you to stand. âCome on, donât leave us hanging.â
The guests clapped lightly, encouraging you, and with a deep breath, you rose to your feet. Your mind raced for something to say, the weight of everyoneâs eyes on you making it harder to focus. Then your gaze landed on Josh and Dae, their fingers interlaced, their smiles soft and knowing, and you felt a calm settle over you.
âIâm, uh, not great at speeches,â you started, earning a few chuckles. âBut I guess the thing about love is that it doesnât really need perfect words, does it? Love is messy and complicated andâŠsometimes really painful. Itâs not always easy to let people in, or to hold on when things get hard.â
Your voice softened, and you glanced briefly at Nic before continuing. âBut when itâs real, when itâs worth it, it finds a way. Time, distanceâŠeven mistakes donât make it disappear. It lingers. Itâs patient, even when we arenât.â
You swallowed hard, emotion creeping into your voice as you looked at Josh and Dae. âWhat you two haveâŠitâs special. Itâs not just about the big momentsâitâs in the little ones, too. The way you look at each other when you think no oneâs watching, the way you hold onto each other even when things arenât perfect.â
Your lips curved into a small smile as your gaze softened. âYou remind all of us what it means to love fully, without holding back. And I think thatâs the most beautiful thing any of us could hope for.â
The applause that followed was warm and heartfelt, but you barely registered it. Your heart was pounding as you sat back down, your eyes meeting Nicâs for just a second too long. His expression was unreadable at first, his gaze fixed on you like he was trying to memorize every word youâd just said.
âThat wasâŠâ Nic started, his voice lower than usual. He paused, shaking his head slightly as a small smile tugged at his lips. âYou always have a way of saying exactly what people need to hear.â
His hand brushed against yours under the table, not quite a touch, but enough to make you feel the weight of it. It was in that moment you realized: you hadnât just been talking about Josh and Dae. Youâd been talking about him. About you.
And he knew it.
The first dance was everything youâd expect from Josh and Dae: sweet, understated, and full of a love that seemed to glow brighter than the candles flickering on the tables. The soft strains of their song floated through the terrace, weaving around the small, intimate gathering like a spell.
You and Nic stood off to the side, watching as they swayed together under the string lights. Daeâs head rested against Joshâs shoulder, her gown trailing elegantly behind her as they moved in perfect sync, lost in their little world.
âShe looks so happy,â Nic murmured beside you, his voice low enough that it almost blended into the music.
You glanced at him, catching the softened lines of his expression, the way his gaze lingered on the couple with quiet admiration. âThey both do,â you replied, your voice quieter than you intended.
Watching them, you couldnât help but feel a pang of reflectionâa bittersweet mix of nostalgia and possibility. You thought about the version of yourself from five years ago, so tangled up in your feelings for Nic that it had felt impossible to move forward without him. And now here you were, standing beside him, watching someone elseâs love story unfold.
Your mind wandered, drifting back through your memories of himâthe late nights in college, the laughter, the arguments, the moments when everything felt so sure and others when it all seemed to slip away. And yet, even through the years apart, that same pull lingered. The question wasnât whether you still loved himâyou knew you did. It was whether the future could hold something more than the past.
Josh spun Dae out and brought her back into his arms, drawing a round of applause from the small crowd as their song came to an end. They beamed at each other, sharing a quick kiss before the music shifted to something more upbeat, signaling the start of the reception.
As the evening unfolded, the terrace came alive with chatter, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses. Nic had stepped away briefly to grab a drink, leaving you to mingle with the others, but it wasnât long before Dae sidled up to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
âSo,â she started, dragging out the word as she nudged your arm. âProgress report, please.â
You blinked at her, feigning innocence. âProgress on what?â
Dae rolled her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms. âDonât play dumb with me. You and Nic.â
Your face immediately warmed, and you glanced around as if someone might overhear. âDaeâŠâ
âWhat?â she teased, grinning like the cat who got the cream. âItâs a legitimate question. I mean, youâve barely taken your eyes off each other all day.â
âIââ you started to protest, but the words faltered when Nic reappeared at your side, holding out a glass of champagne for you.
âWhat did I miss?â he asked casually, though the slight furrow in his brow betrayed his curiosity.
âOh, nothing much,â Dae said airily, clearly enjoying herself. âJust checking in on you two. Josh has been taking bets on when youâre getting back together, by the way.â
Nic nearly choked on his drink, his ears tinting red as he looked at Dae with wide eyes. âHe what?â
âHeâs your biggest shipper, you know,â she continued, completely undeterred by the embarrassment she was causing. âHeâs been rooting for this since forever. Honestly, I think itâs half the reason he wanted the two of you here together.â
You covered your face with your hand, half laughing, half mortified. âDae, stop.â
âWhy? Itâs true!â she said, throwing up her hands innocently. âHe even said at one point that if he had to, heâd lock you two in a room until you sorted it out. But hey, it looks like I donât have to intervene, so⊠progress!â
Nic shook his head, his blush spreading to his neck as he avoided meeting your gaze. âYouâre impossible,â he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
Dae gave you both a smug little grin, clearly pleased with herself. âJust saying what everyoneâs thinking. Anyway, Iâll leave you two alone. But donât make me wait for updatesâIâm invested.â
With that, she spun on her heel and disappeared back into the crowd, leaving you and Nic standing there, equally flustered.
You finally dared to glance at him, catching the faint sheepish smile he was trying to hide. âWell, that was subtle,â you said dryly, though you couldnât help the smile creeping onto your face.
Nic let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. âYeah⊠subtle has never really been her thing.â
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the music and laughter from the reception wrapping around you like a cocoon. And despite the teasing, despite the embarrassment, you felt a quiet warmth settle between youâsomething unspoken, but understood all the same.
You and Nic were tucked off to the side, your chairs angled just enough to give you a view of the lake as the night settled in. His hand rested lightly on the back of your chair, his body angled toward yours, the conversation between you easy and natural for the first time in years.
The moment was interrupted by the smooth arrival of Mingyu, his usual grin tugging at the corners of his lips. âWell, well,â he said, gesturing between the two of you, âIâm glad to see the two of you have worked things out. Not gonna lie, I was rooting for you.â
Nic stiffened slightly beside you, though his expression remained neutral. âYeah, weâve beenâŠtalking,â he replied carefully, his hand slipping from the back of your chair to his lap.
Mingyuâs grin softened, turning almost sheepish. âListen, man,â he began, rubbing the back of his neck. âI didnât mean to, you know, step on your toes this week. I didnât know the history, and once I did, wellâŠâ He looked between the two of you. âI just want to say Iâm sorry if I overstepped.â
Nic glanced at you, then back at Mingyu, clearly caught off guard. He shifted in his chair, a flush creeping up his neck. âYou didnât owe me anything,â he said after a moment, his voice measured. âButâŠI appreciate it. And, uh, sorry if I wasâŠâ He trailed off, scratching the back of his head.
âPossessive?â Mingyu offered with a teasing glint in his eye.
Nic sighed, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. âYeah. That.â
Mingyu laughed, holding out his hand. âNo hard feelings?â
Nic hesitated for only a moment before taking it, shaking firmly. âNo hard feelings,â he echoed, though his embarrassment lingered in the faint pink of his cheeks.
As Mingyu walked away, you glanced at Nic, your eyebrow raised. âPossessive, huh?â
He groaned, leaning back in his chair with a wry smile. âDonât start.â
You laughed softly, leaning closer. âItâs okay,â you teased. âI think itâs kind of sweet.â
Nic gave you a look, somewhere between exasperation and affection, before shaking his head. âYouâre never letting me live this down, are you?â
âNot a chance.â
The reception had dwindled to a quiet hum, the terrace now lit only by the soft glow of fairy lights and the lingering warmth of a celebration well-lived. Guests were beginning to disperse, gathering their things, exchanging hugs and goodbyes. Dae and Josh stood at the entrance of the villa, looking every bit the newlywedsâradiant, a little tipsy, and blissfully in love.
âAlright, you two,â Dae said, pulling you and Nic in for a hug. âPromise me youâll send updates. I need to know every detail of your progress.â
Josh chuckled, resting an arm around her waist. âSheâs not kidding, by the way. Youâre going to regret letting her have your number.â
Nic smirked, shaking Joshâs hand. âIâll take my chances.â
Dae grinned but her tone softened as she squeezed your hand. âWeâre so proud of you both. Really. Itâs been amazing having you here this week. Seeing you togetherâŠâ She trailed off, her eyes glassy with emotion.
Josh picked up where she left off. âIt meant a lot. And not just for us. You two being hereâit feels like somethingâs come full circle.â
âAlright, enough sentimentality,â Dae said, wiping at her cheek with a laugh. âWeâve got a plane to catch.â
They were heading to Santorini for their honeymoonâclassy, romantic, and quintessentially them. The group gathered outside the villa to wave them off, cheering as their car disappeared down the drive.
As the crowd thinned and everyone started for their hotels or Airbnbs, Nic lingered by your side. He looked at you with a familiar warmth that made your chest tighten, a quiet confidence in the way he stood close, just shy of brushing your arm.
âSo,â he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. âWhat do you say we find somewhere to grab dinner? Nothing fancy. Weâll just see where the night takes us.â
You hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. âAlright. Letâs do it.â
You ended up at a small, tucked-away trattoria on one of Bellagioâs cobblestone streets. The kind of place where the servers knew every regular by name and the scent of garlic and herbs lingered in the air. It wasnât planned, but it was perfect.
Over plates of fresh pasta and glasses of wine, the conversation flowed easily, loosened by the champagne and the natural rhythm you and Nic had always had. It felt almost like old timesâlike those late-night dinners during college when it was just the two of you, talking about anything and everything.
Nic leaned back in his chair, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. âSo,â he began, a small smirk playing on his lips. âAre you going to tell me what happened with buying into your practice? You mentioned it earlier this week, but you never really talked about it.â
You swirled the wine in your glass thoughtfully. âIâm supposed to be, early next year. But⊠I donât know. It doesnât feel like something I want to commit to just yet.â
He frowned slightly, intrigued. âWhy not? Youâd be great at it. Dae couldnât stop raving about how great you are after you took out her wisdom teeth. Andââ he paused, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. âI may have read some of your practiceâs Google reviews.â
You stared at him, incredulous. âOh my god. Youâre a stalker!â
He laughed, holding his hands up defensively. âI was curious, alright? But seriously, youâre a great surgeon. Why not take the next step?â
You shrugged, resting your chin on your hand. âMaybe Iâm too young to be running a business. Or maybe I just want a change of scenery. Iâve been thinking about going back to the public sector for a while now.â
Nic tilted his head, considering your words. âYou want my thoughts?â You nod eagerly, eyes glassy. âI think you should do what feels right for you. Whatever you decide, youâll be amazing. You always are.â
The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten, and you looked away, focusing on the last of the wine in your glass. The warmth between you felt almost tangible, a fragile, growing thing that neither of you wanted to disturb.
The walk back to Nicâs Airbnb began with an invitation over the last sips of wine at the restaurant.
The two of you had been lingering long after your plates were cleared, the conversation meandering between work, college memories, and everything in between. Nic leaned back in his chair, his tie slightly loosened, his hand absently turning the stem of his glass.
âI donât want this to end yet,â he admitted suddenly, his tone light but honest. âThereâs too much I still want to catch up on. Come back to my Airbnb? We can keep talking.â
The offer was casual, no hidden agendaâjust Nic being Nic. And yet, the way he looked at you, his brown eyes warm and steady, made something in your chest tighten.
You hesitated for only a moment, your inhibitions softened by the wine and the comfort of the evening. âSure,â you said, a smile tugging at your lips. âWhy not?â
His relief was subtle, but you caught itâa small exhale, a quick grin. âGood,â he said, setting his glass down and standing. âLetâs go.â
The walk back was steeped in an easy, wine-laced warmth. Bellagioâs quiet streets were lit only by the occasional glow of a streetlamp, the lake shimmering softly in the distance. Nic walked close beside you, hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed for the first time in what felt like years.
âI justââ he began, glancing at you before looking back ahead, âI didnât want the night to end yet. It feels like weâve only just started catching up.â
You felt your stomach flutter, a mix of the wine and the way he said itâearnest and almost boyish. âI get it,â you admitted, your voice soft. âIt feels like thereâs too much to fit into one dinner.â
He grinned, looking down at you briefly. âExactly. So⊠thanks for coming with me. Even if itâs just to hear me ramble a little more.â
You laughed, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. âYou? Ramble? I didnât think you had it in you.â
âOh, I do. Just ask Josh,â he teased, and the two of you slipped back into a conversation about work and life.
Somewhere along the way, he asked, carefully, âSo⊠anyone back in New York? You know, in the last five years?â
The question caught you off guard, but the curiosity in his tone wasnât intrusiveâit was tentative, like he was almost afraid of the answer. You shook your head, smiling wryly. âNot seriously. Just a few failed Hinge dates here and there. Iâm married to my loupes and luxators, apparently.â
Nic chuckled, shaking his head. âThat tracks.â
You raised an eyebrow, amused. âOh? And what about you? Mr. Los Angeles?â
âPretty much the same,â he admitted with a small shrug. âI tried datingâkey word: tried. But nothing stuck. Guess Iâve been married to my caseload.â
His honesty surprised you, though it shouldnât have. Nic was always like thatâdirect, but in a way that felt safe. And now, as you walked beside him, it struck you how little had changed in some ways. The years apart hadnât dulled the pull you felt toward him, the way his presence seemed to make everything else fade into the background.
When you reached his Airbnb, a modest but cozy villa tucked into a quiet corner of town, he held the door open for you, letting you slip off your heels with a sigh of relief. âGod, I think these shoes are trying to kill me,â you muttered.
Nic smirked, setting his keys on the counter. âWell, you survived. Thatâs what matters.â
He reached for a bottle of red from the kitchen counter, pouring two glasses and handing one to you before settling onto the couch. âOne last glass?â
âTwist my arm,â you teased, sinking into the cushions beside him.
The atmosphere was easy, relaxed, but the wine added a subtle haze to the air. Nic leaned back, his shirt slightly untucked, his tie loosened from the long day. The disheveled look suited him too well, and you found your gaze lingering more than you meant to.
The low lighting softened his features, but the sharpness of his jawline, the curve of his mouth, were impossible to ignore. And it wasnât just how he lookedâit was how he made you feel. That giddy, nervous energy you hadnât felt in years, the kind you used to feel back in college when he would smile at you in just the right way.
Your thoughts drifted. You were reminded of late-night study sessions, sitting shoulder to shoulder, the proximity enough to set your pulse racing. The way heâd brush his hand against yours when passing you a pen. The stolen glances that made you wonder if he felt it, too.
And now, here you were again, sitting beside him like no time had passed, even though it had. The tension was there, just under the surfaceâa hum of possibility neither of you seemed ready to act on, but both of you felt.
Nic glanced over at you, catching your gaze. âWhat?â he asked softly, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile.
âNothing,â you said quickly, looking down at your glass. âJust⊠you look relaxed. Itâs nice.â
He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. âYou do, too.â
The air between you shifted, quieter now but charged. And as the conversation resumedâstories about work, the moments youâd missedâyou couldnât shake the feeling that this was where you were always meant to be. With him. Here.
The warmth of the red wine lingered, like a soft haze wrapping around the two of you as the evening stretched into something quieter, something slower. You and Nic had settled into a comfortable rhythm, trading stories and laughter, the conversation ebbing and flowing like it always had. But now, as the hour grew late, the air between you felt heavierâcharged with something unspoken, yet deeply understood.
Nic set his empty glass on the coffee table, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. You looked down at the fleeting contact, your pulse skipping in response.
âI missed this,â he murmured, his voice low and steady, pulling your attention back to him.
âThis?â you asked softly, tilting your head.
He smiled, his brown eyes catching the faint glow of the lamp. âYou. Us. Talking like this.â
His words struck something deep, and before you could respond, he shifted slightly, leaning closerânot too much, just enough that the space between you felt almost non-existent.
âI need to ask you something,â he said quietly, his voice threading through the stillness.
Your heart stumbled, but you nodded, trying to keep your voice calm. âWhat is it?â
Nicâs gaze flickered down to your lips, lingering for just a beat before returning to your eyes. âCan I kiss you?â
The question was so tender, so deliberate, that it almost unraveled you. He didnât rush the moment, didnât move until you answered. But the intensity in his gaze left no doubt about what he wantedâand what you did, too.
âYes,â you breathed, your voice steady despite the way your heart raced.
Nicâs lips curved into the faintest smile, like heâd been holding his breath, waiting for your permission. Slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing along your jaw, his touch feather-light as if testing the waters.
And then he closed the distance.
The first press of his lips against yours was soft, tentative, a question in itself. He didnât rush, didnât push. His hand moved to cup your cheek, anchoring you to him as the kiss deepened ever so slightly, a slow, languid exploration that felt like coming home.
You melted into him, your hand finding its way to his chest, where you could feel the steady, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. It matched your own, as if the two of you were syncing after years of being out of tune.
The kiss grew heavierânot rushed, but more certain, as though every lingering doubt or hesitation was being stripped away with every gentle pull of his lips. His thumb brushed along your cheekbone, grounding you in the moment, and you responded in kind, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
It wasnât just a kissâit was a reclamation of everything youâd lost, a connection you thought youâd never have again. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the years apart, not the mistakes or misunderstandingsâjust him, and you, and the way he made you feel like you belonged.
When he finally pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, you opened your eyes to find him watching you, his gaze soft but searching.
âYou okay?â he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, a slow, steady smile spreading across your lips. âYeah. More than okay.â
Nicâs own smile mirrored yours, his hand still cradling your face like he was afraid to let go. âGood,â he murmured. âBecause I donât think I can stop now.â
You laughed softly, the sound breaking the tension just enough to make the moment feel light again, but the undercurrent of emotion remained. This was Nicâyour Nicâand for the first time in years, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.
Nic kissed you like he was trying to etch the moment into memory, his lips slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that made the world tilt just slightly on its axis. Your arms looped around his shoulders as his hands anchored themselves at your waist, fingers curling like he was afraid to let you go.
Before you even realized it, youâd shifted closer, settling into his lap like you belonged thereâbecause, God, didnât it feel like you did? His hands slid up your back, pulling you firmly against him as your heart pounded in time with his.
When you finally pulled away, your breaths mingling in the stillness, Nicâs hands stayed exactly where they were, holding you in place as though releasing you would undo everything. His head dropped to your shoulder, and for a moment, he just held you, his chest heaving with something that felt almost like relief.
Then he let out a soft laugh, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His grin was boyish, a little crooked, and entirely unguarded. âYou know,â he said, his voice thick with emotion, âfor the first time in a long time, it feels like the worldâs finally spinning the right way.â
You blinked, your chest tightening with an ache so sweet it almost hurt. âYeah?â you managed, the word coming out a little breathless.
He nodded, his expression softening as his hands squeezed your sides. âYeah. And you⊠youâre right at the center of it.â
Your laugh came out shaky, barely masking the tears threatening to spill. But they werenât tears of sadnessânot this time. âYouâre such a sap,â you teased, though your voice betrayed how much his words had wrecked you in the best way.
Nic grinned wider, leaning in until his forehead touched yours. âYou like it,â he murmured, his tone playful but sure.
âI do,â you admitted, your smile widening even as your heart soared. âGod help me, I really do.â
For a while, you just sat there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of everything unspoken melting into the comfort of his arms around you. The quiet between you wasnât emptyâit was full of possibility, of shared breaths and unspoken promises.
Eventually, Nic tilted his head, brushing his lips against your temple. âThis⊠this isnât just a moment, right?â he asked softly, his voice uncertain for the first time that night.
You cupped his cheek, your thumb grazing his skin as you smiled. âNot if I have anything to say about it.â
His eyes searched yours, and whatever he saw there seemed to settle something deep inside him. He let out a long breath, pulling you even closer, his arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let go.
And as you sat there, wrapped in each other on that worn, comfortable couch in a quiet little Airbnb, it hit youâyou didnât need grand gestures or perfect timing. You just needed this. Him.
Because in Nicâs arms, the past didnât matter, and the future didnât feel so daunting. There was just nowâjust you and him, finally back where you belonged.
#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas alexander chavez x you#nicholas alexander chavez imagine#nicholas alexander chavez fic#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#writing#nicholas chavez#grotesquerie#monsters: the lyle and erik menendez story#elleâs worx
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"Always."
lando norris x gn!bf!reader
notes: I havenât written since 2019, so bear with me. Iâve found myself thinking about a little blurb for Lando recently (actually a lot of ideas, but this one is sticking with me more than the others at the moment).
For some context, Landoâs been receiving a huge amount of hate online (and in-person) recently. I havenât been a fan for that longâI got into F1 this summer, in 2024âbut Iâve grown to care about him. I was there for Lando losing the championship, and while I think we all knew it would come to this (Max winning felt inevitable) but Iâm proud of Lando for pushing so hard this entire year.
Still, with all the hate directed at him, Iâm seeing a new side of him, and Iâm learning that heâs a person with feelings like anyone else. I can tell he doesnât always have the highest opinion of himself and tends to take the blame for anything that goes wrong during his races. What struck me about this is how much I relate to it. I blame myself for things out of my control or when I mess up. What sucks with Lando is that his small, human errors are what so many people focus on to criticize himâwhether itâs why he didnât win the championship or why they think heâs a bad person (which he absolutely isnât).
The inspiration for this came from an interview he did after the Brazilian GP. At that point, everyone knew it was almost mathematically impossible for Lando to win the championship, and he talked about struggling in the aftermath: âI literally couldnât sleep for the first two daysâŠSo I did like, what, 36-40 hours straight. So that probably made everything worse. When youâre tired, youâre more moody, and that kind of thingâŠI was just sat at home alone. It probably would have been better if I had been with my friends. But they donât live in Monaco. They also have lives and are busy doing other things. And Iâm a big overthinker, so like the whole flight home, the whole week, it just played over and over in my head. What could I have done differently? Why did I do that? Why did I not do this? You start thinking of all the scenarios that you kind of blame yourself for, why itâs now not possible, that kind of thing. And yeah, because I overthink and I struggle with that kind of thing, that took a bigger toll in the days after. It wasnât an easy time.â
And I keep on finding myself wishing someone could have been there for him in person, so that he was okay. So, I wrote this. The reader in this is dating Lando but is written as a gender-neutral character that uses They/Them pronouns. The reader also has a service dog, a Bernese Mountain Dog named Thunder, to help with their own depression and anxiety (Iâm not an expert on service dogs, so this many not be 100% accurate).
They woke up that early morning to the sunlight shining on their face, streaming in from the window outside. The bliss of sleep clung to them as they lay there, cocooned in warmth, the covers snug around their body. They stretched lazily, blinking their eyes open.
Instinctively, they turned to look beside themâonly to find the space next to them empty. Itâs too early in the morning to be anywhere else but in bed, even for training, they thought. Lando should still be here.
The realization pulled them out of their sleepy haze. The past couple of days had been not kind to Lando. They knew that he had a tendency to keep his feelings bottled up and beat himself up over his perceived failures. They understood that feeling all too wellâthe guilt, the constant sense of disappointment, the nagging thought that were never good enough. They had wrestled with those feelings since they were a child.
It wasnât something that had an easy fix. If they had found the answer, they would have shared it with Lando years ago. But they had learned that the best way to fight those thoughts wasnât isolation. Talking to someone, writing feelings down, even simple positive affirmationsâthought they might sound sillyâcould help push back against the negative spiral. They had told Lando this countless times.
But Lando had a problem with not wanting to âinconvenienceâ anyone with his emotions. No matter how many times they reassured him that they were always there for him, he struggled to let himself. They didnât blame himâit was human to struggle against your own mind.
What made everything worse was the constant online hate. Every little mistake or sarcastic comment from Lando seemed to turn into an avalanche of criticism. They remembered the first time theyâd seen him like a hateful comment about himself on Instagramâthe little heart next to a cruel statement, paired with note: âCreator liked this.â It had broken their heart. How could the Lando they loved ever believe such awful things about himself?
After Brazil, it had been clear that he wasnât okay. Heâd barely spoken since coming home, choosing instead to himself. They had given him space, hoping heâd find a way to process his feelings. But by the second morning, when he still hadnât come to bedâalmost forty hours after returning homeâthey knew they couldnât stand by any longer.
That morning, they rose slowly from the bed, a plan beginning to form in their mind. Lanod needed someone to step inâsomeone to remind him he didnât have to face his struggles alone. They were determined to be that person for him. Â They couldnât take it anymore, seeing the person they loved so badly, punishing himself over his âfailures.â
The first step was to confirm where he was. Grabbing their phone, they opened Twitch and navigated to Maxâs stream. After a few moments of watching, they heard Landoâs voiceâtired, strained, but unmistakably his. He was joking with Max, his words clipped, like he was holding himself together with sheer willpower. It was enough to break their heart. They opened their messages with Max.
Thunder's Owner
Lanâs streaming with you rn?
Sent at 7:48 AM.
After a few seconds, Max replied.
Maximilian
Yeah heâs on voice-only.
Sent at 7:50 AM.
Gonna do something about him?
Sent at 7:50 AM.
Max knew. Of course he did. He probably heard the exhaustion in Landoâs voice, the edge self-loathing that came with overthinking. They typed back quickly:
Thunder's Owner
Yeah
Sent 7:52 AM.
Going to unplug his setup and drag him out of there.
Sent 7:52 AM.
Maximilian
Lol.
Sent 7:52 AM.
Iâll keep an eye out for when he disappears.
Sent 7:53 AM.
Thunder's Owner
Thx
Sent 7:54 AM.
They quietly made their way to Landoâs gaming room and eased the door open. Lando sat at his desk, controller in hand, headset clamped over messy curls. He looked worn down, his shoulders slumped as he focused on the screen. His voice through, muted put playful, as he bantered with Max.
For a moment, they just watched him. Even now, he was handsome, but the tiredness in his expression made their chest ache. He deserved rest. He deserved to feel okay. And he wasnât going to get that by sitting here punishing himself.
As soon as Lando died in-game and leaned back in his chair, they seized the opportunity. They crossed the room, catching his attention when they came into view.
âWhyâre youââ Lando began, frowning, but they didnât let him finish. Reaching down, they unplugged everything from the wall.
âWhat the hellââ he exclaimed, spinning around in his chair.
âNo,â they said firmly, cutting him off. âIâm not you hurt yourself anymore. Get up.â
Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. âYou canât just do that!â he protested, but they were already tugging gently at him arm, urging him out of his chair.
âAngel, what are youââ
âNo,â they repeated, their voice steady. âGet up,â
Lando hesitated for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and standing. They took his hand, leading him out of the gaming room and down the hall to the living room. He didnât resist, but he followed like a man in a daze. Once they reached the couch, they turned to him. âSit,â they said, pointing at the cushions. Lando raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to argue, but they shook their head. âStay.â
They turned to Thunder, who had been waiting for them in the hallway, and told him, âThunder, guard,â while pointing at Lando.
The dog immediately moved into position, standing alert in front of the couch. Landoâs eyes widened slightly as Thunder fixed him with an unblinking stare. He shifted as if to get up, but Thunderâs stance didnât waver.
âJeez, I wasnât going to get up,â he mumbled to Thunder, but Thunder just sat there and watched him until he fully relaxed back into the couch.
The thought ran through Landoâs head, how he had honestly forgotten how menacing his own dog could look. He knew Thunder was trained, saw reminders of it daily with how he interacted with his partner, but he was still shocked at how trained Thunder really was at that moment.
Thunder was still staring at him when he pulled out his phone from his pocket, opening up his texts with Max.
LN
I was just dragged out of my gaming room and told to sit on the couch and like a dog.
Sent at 8:05 AM.
Not against it, but how tf did they get so determined?
Sent at 8:05 AM.
Thunderâs watching me right now.
Sent at 8:06 AM.
I forgot how menacing he could be.
Sent at 8:06 AM.
*Picture attached.*
Lol.
Sent at 8:06 AM.
Max (The 1st One)
Heâs like âtry me, I dare youâ
Sent at 8:06 AM.
LN
Yeah, I donât particularly want to try him
Sent at 8:07 AM.
Max (The 1st One)
Lol.
Sent at 8:07 AM.
They told me before they did it
Sent at 8:07 AM.
I just let them. Lol.
Sent at 8:07 AM.
LN
Helpful. What if they were trying to  kill me?
Sent at 8:08 AM.
They wouldnât have had to if you kept doing what you were doing.
Sent at 8:09 AM.
Landoâs let out a quiet sigh, Maxâs words sinking in. He glanced at Thunder, who hadnât moved, and felt a pang of guilt. Heâd pushed himself too far again, and this time it had clearly worried his partner.
A few minutes later, his partner walked back into their living room. He thought they looked beautiful, wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of boxers. They were entirely focused on the bowl they were carrying, and only looked up when they got close enough to hand it to him. He gently took the bowl, looked into it and saw it was one of his prep meals. While not his favorite breakfast, he knew he just needed to eat first, so he started taking bites.
He glanced up every so often, and each time he did, his partner was just sitting there and watching him eat. Lando almost chuckled at his own thought that they looked just like Thunder when watching him, and he smiled into his bowl at the thought. His partner didnât see his smile, but he continued to eat until he had finished the bowl.
When he was done eating, he set the bowl down, and his partner again pulled him up by the crook of his arm. He just let them do so, having a thought of what was going to happen next.
His partner led them both down the hallway to their bedroom, and opened the door, leading him to sit on their bed, then they turned around and went to close their blinds and draw their black-out curtains to cover up the sunlight from the window. They had turned on their bedside lamp earlier, and the soft orange glow of the lamp permeated the room. They walked past him again, going to close the door after letting Thunder in, then they walked back to their side of the bed, and pulled him to lie down against them.
As he settled against their chest, he felt a bit odd, it being a bit of a difference to feel how much he was loved by them. How much they cared for him. And he finally spoke again, âThank you.â
âAlways, Lan. Always.â They replied, pressing a kiss to his hair.
And for the first time in days, he let himself sleep.
author's note: got inspired to actually write something for once...ty @koalapastries for the inspiration (unknowing inspiration but ty) (also sorry for using your layout outline
comments & reblogs appreciated
and i made the dividers :)
#formula 1 x gn reader#formula 1 x male reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x gn!reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando x reader#lando x you#f1 x you
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WHAT'S UP!
Welcome to my post where I praise the fanon original league version of Jayvik!!!
I'm gonna be real, I will miss the Og machine herald Viktor. I never played league, and I'm not going to, but before season 2 came out I read his lore and he's actually a pretty fun character.
Then after season two act 1 came out, I dove into the world of fanfiction cause I started shipping Jayvik and found kind a few fics about the league of legend versions of the characters. And here is what I will say.
If we go with fanon alone, I actually prefer the league versions.
League Viktor and League Jayce are actual enemies for most of the time. They used to be colleagues, then Viktor was getting into brainwashing whilst Jayce was a dick and got him kicked out of the academy. He also didn't speak up when some other scientist took credit of Viktors invention. Oh and there were misunderstandings about some crystal...
Long story short, they don't like each other. But in the fics they often times either clear the misunderstandings and make up or yearn for each other whilst on opposite sites. Or they fight each other which leads to make out sessions because why not.
The characters are also generally more fun to read about.
Jayce is a huge dick, that is literally his most defining personality trade. He is a cocky bastard and people like him until they get to know him because he's just such an asshole.
And Viktor is just... Really fucking silly. He wants to get rid of his emotions and says that he already did get rid off them, but then Jayce pisses him off and you can tell no way?? Where did you get rid off your emotions? You've been whining non stop. There's also still love, kindness and empathy within Viktor, but he somehow convinces himself that he is emotionless. It gets especially good when that's played for comedy, which it oftentimes is!
Also, the nicknames! They still call each other Jayce and Viktor but Viktor also calls Jayce "Defender" short for "Defender of tomorrow" which is jayces title, and Jayce calls him either V or Machine Herald, depending on the mood.
Arcane season 2 was too rushed and packed with so many seperate story lines that we didn't have enough time for the characters. We needed at least one more season.
But the fanon for the league version, as someone who never played it, gives me this huge time frame of them being enemies but they used to be colleagues or friends (or more than friends depending on the writer), and then a huge time frame of them being enemies.
Og machine herald League Viktor though??? PEAK, WHAT A FUNNY CRINGEFAIL LOSER!
Now more to Arcane...
I think as much as I love Jayvik there, it's all just too sad, especially if you don't necessarily want to read act 1 fanfictions or AUs.
Also Viktor is super hard to characterize because his personally changes with almost every act. That's why I don't buy it when people complain about the way he is characterized because Ik all yall want is sassy S1 Act 1 Viktor, but I prefer the less confident and workaholic Act 2 Viktor. We are not the same.
The Fanon of League is just, somehow, more consistent in a way, because it has existed just much longer and people probably get inspired by the same shippers for how to write their dynamic.
Arcane fics though depend on how the individual interprets the characters, and with characters whose arcs were rushed sm it's just impossible.
So Og machine herald Viktor, you will be missed. I hope people don't stop writing for them and drawing fanart!!
#arcane#jayce league of legends#viktor league of legends#league of legends#jayce arcane#jayce talis#jayce giopara#arcane viktor#jayvik#vikjayce
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if I had a nickel for every time there was a zombie apocalypse episode in an early 2010s comedy TV show where the zombie virus was caused by a careless mix-up that led to people unknowingly ingesting a biohazardous food product and in order to kill the virus, they had to expose it to extreme cold by blasting their school's AC, I would have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's pretty fucking hilarious that it happened twice.
#also in both the second painball installment and the mbav movie they hijack the building's sprinklers to take down their enemies#in one they put paint in sprinklers to stop some men dressed as storm troopers#in the other they rig up a gasoline tank filled with holy water to disintegrate cultists#guess which one is rated pg#mbav#my babysitter's a vampire#nbc community#community#zombies#zombie apocalypse#i accidentally said painball instead of paintball#whoops#sitcoms#ALSO I FORGOT TO SAY#even though the community episode came out first it was only a couple months before the first season of mbav premiered#so it's almost impossible for one to have been inspired by the other#the writers were just on the same wavelength
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DEVOTION â jeon jungkook.
genre. a song of ice and fire au. 103 AC. smut. knight!jungkook. queen!reader.
your knight is completely devoted to you, and while itâs his duty, you canât help but wonder if thereâs something more behind his unwavering loyalty.
word count. 17.1k words (FUCK i am so sorry) warnings. this fic might be a bit confusing if you havent watched game of thrones or house of the dragon !!! misogyny. gender dynamics. seokjin and namjoon cameo hehe. forced / arranged marriage. over protective jungkook <3. cute convo between oc and her husband. violence. mentions of blood and murder. SO MUCH FUCKING TENSION. smut. two sex scenes !! dry humping. oral (male!receiving). unprotected sex (this universe takes place thousands of years ago and condoms didnt exist yet give me a break). bath sex. they almost get caught OOP. cheating (but both parties are consenting and they both openly do it to each other but they dont love each other romantically so its okay i guess) ???? jungkook literally worships her oh im sick i need him.
ana's notes. this fic ended up being much longer than i anticipated but oh my gosh i literally could NOT STOP WRITING !!! this is the longest fic ive ever written hello. this is inspired by alicent and coles relationship in season 2. sorry i hate them but this trope ??? OUUU TOO GOOD. so you know i got inspired. anyways, i love this one so much, so please let me know your thoughts <3. as always, keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx
listening to. blue jeans by lana del rey / middle of the night by elley duhé / flawless by the neighbourhood
part of the based off film series. this one shot is based off house of the dragon.
You had always hated the idea of marrying someone you didnât love, but you knew that marriage was not a choice â it was an obligation woven into the fabric of your destiny. Though reluctance filled you at first, you gradually came to terms with your duty, accepting the role thrust upon you with a measure of peace.
House Emberwyn ruled the Seven Kingdoms, making them the most powerful house of all. Your father had forged a deep bond with King Aelyx, the two men connected by the shared grief of losing their wives. Beyond their friendship, your father was adamant that uniting your houses through marriage was crucial. He envisioned a future where the intertwining of two powerful, wealthy legacies would forge an unbreakable realm.
Atticus, the son of King Aelyx, was only a year older than you â making him a suitable match. Like you, he was reluctant to marry, but he, too, understood the importance of duty. He wanted nothing more than to make his father proud, even if it meant sacrificing personal desire.
As the sole heirs of your respective houses, the pressure to produce children was immediate. The act of intimacy with Atticus was never one of passion or love; it was merely another duty. The first time was uncomfortable, almost unbearable, but over time, you learned to tolerate it. This was your life now, dictated by duty rather than desire.
Since your marriage, you have been blessed with three children. Ares, your eldest and only son, was conceived during your bedding ceremony. Now a boy of one and ten, he is wise beyond his years, his sharp mind driven by a deep love for books and knowledge. Celeste, your first daughter, is nine years old â a whirlwind of wild, unrestrained energy that seems impossible to contain. Already, sheâs been eagerly awaiting the day she can take to the skies on dragonback, her spirit far older than her years. Then there is Luna, your youngest and newest addition to the family, a radiant little soul who brings warmth and light into every corner of your life. She is the calm of the storm, a small but powerful source of joy that never fails to lift your spirits, no matter how heavy the burdens of the day.
Atticus is a good father, never neglecting his children. He is present in their lives, providing for them with steadfast love and care. As a husband, he is kind and dutiful. Yet, despite all his virtues, he is not the love of your life.
The two of you had come to an agreement early in your marriage: you were free to seek pleasure where you wished, as long as heirs were made with each other. It was a compromise, one that allowed you both to navigate the confines of your duty while maintaining some semblance of personal freedom.
Tragedy struck shortly after Celesteâs birth when King Aelyx succumbed to an unknown illness. The crown passed to Atticus, and with it came the immense burden of ruling the Seven Kingdoms.
With Atticus as king, you became Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, unlike your husband, you did not feel the same pressure. Your days were mostly spent within the confines of your chambers, where the laughter and antics of your children filled your life with light and purpose. Despite never having known your own mother â she had died giving birth to you â you felt as though motherhood had always been your calling.
While you wouldnât trade your life for anything in the world, motherhood came with its challenges. Ares and Celeste were at the age where they bickered endlessly over the smallest of things â whether it was toys, attention, or simply to see who could get on your nerves first. Their constant squabbles were a source of frustration, and yet you knew it was a phase they would eventually outgrow. Luna, on the other hand, still so small and newly born, could not seem to stop crying. Her wails often filled the castle, and while the maids were always close by, ready to assist, you never allowed them to. You wanted your daughter to find comfort in your arms, not anyone elseâs.
There were days when calming her down felt like a losing battle, the hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. But when you finally succeeded, when her cries quieted and her tiny form melted into sleep, it filled you with a sense of accomplishment. It was a small victory in a life full of larger, weightier battles.
Fortunately, today was one of the easier days. Luna wasnât feeling particularly fussy, and after a few gentle rocks and soft pats on her back, she fell asleep in your arms without much protest. Relief washed over you as you gazed down at her peaceful face, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The soft warmth of her against you, the quiet of the room, made you feel like, for a moment, everything was right.
âYour Grace?â
A voice interrupted your quiet reverie, but you didnât turn. Your eyes remained fixed on Luna, unwilling to break the fragile serenity of the moment. You hummed in response, acknowledging the speaker but unable to tear your gaze from your sleeping daughter.
âYour presence is wanted, though not required, Your Grace.â
The words draw you from your thoughts, and with a soft sigh, you finally turn to face the speaker. Itâs the Lord Commander, standing tall and imposing, his armor catching the dim light filtering through the windows.
âWhat for?â you ask, your voice calm but laced with curiosity.
âThe Kingsguard posting,â he replies, his tone formal, as always. âItâs been suggested that you select who will guard the Red Keep.â
You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to Luna, still fast asleep in your arms. The thought of placing your trust in someone else, of relying on others to protect what matters most, brings a weight to your chest. As a mother, your first instinct is always to shield your children. You would want nothing more than for them to roam the castle freely, knowing they were surrounded by those you trusted â those you handpicked.
âI suppose,â you murmur.
After carefully setting Luna in her crib, you linger for a moment, brushing a tender hand over her soft cheek. Ensuring the maids were nearby to watch over her, you quietly slip from the nursery and follow the Lord Commander through the castle's stone corridors. Your thoughts remain on Luna for a heartbeat longer before shifting to the matter at hand â choosing the knights who would guard your family, your children.
You arrive at the balcony overlooking the courtyard, where a line of knights stands at attention, their armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. The air is crisp, the tension palpable as each knight awaits his turn to be presented.
The Lord Commander steps forward, his voice ringing with authority. "Step forward, Ser Kim Namjoon."
The knight moves with a quiet confidence, offering you a small, almost shy smile. Dimples crease his cheeks, and despite the serious nature of the proceedings, you find yourself smiling back, charmed by the warmth in his expression.
"Ser Namjoon has proved strong and steady in both the tourney lists and in service beyond," the Lord Commander begins. "While traveling through the Kingswood on the way to Kingâs Landing, Ser Namjoon recently brought a would-be poacher to justice."
You listen carefully, considering the man before you. His loyalty and steadiness are clear, and his recent actions speak of a knight who serves with honor. Still, your mind drifts to a darker, more urgent thought â combat. The Red Keep, and more importantly, your children, needed knights who were not only honorable but battle hardened. In these uncertain times, loyalty alone would not be enough.Â
"Ser Namjoon," you say, your voice polite yet measured. "We thank you for your loyal service to the Crown."
He bows deeply before stepping back into line, and you offer him a nod in return, though your thoughts continue to circle around the same question â how many of these knights had seen true combat?
The next knight steps forward, and your gaze narrows as you take him in.
"Ser Kim Seokjin," the Lord Commander announces.
This knight is taller, leaner than Namjoon. He holds himself with a quiet grace, his expression serious, but there's a spark of something beneath the surface â determination perhaps, or ambition.
"Winner of the melee at Cider Hall," the Lord Commander continues. "He was the last mounted of three and twenty knights. Ser Seokjin was knighted at eight and ten."
You raise an eyebrow, impressed by his accomplishments. Yet, your thoughts linger on something more pressing, more crucial to the protection of your family.
"Do any of these knights have combat experience?" you ask, your tone sharper now. "Beyond capturing poachers and winning tourneys?"
The Lord Commander nods solemnly, signaling the next candidate.
âSer Jeon Jungkook.â
As the name is called, a young knight steps forward, noticeably younger than the others who had come before him. Yet, despite his youth, he carries himself with an air of quiet confidence, his steps measured and purposeful. Strands of raven hair fall loosely across his forehead, framing a face that, while youthful, is sharp with focus. His dark eyes meet yours with a steady gaze, neither too bold nor deferent â he stands unshaken by the weight of the moment.
He looks about your age, perhaps even younger, and though he lacks the grizzled scars of a seasoned warrior, something about him immediately draws your attention. There's a natural grace in the way he moves, his armor fitting him perfectly as if he was born to wear it. Heâs quite handsome, a fact you canât help but notice as he stands before you, the light of the setting sun casting a faint glow over his features.
"Tell me, Ser Jungkook," you say, breaking the silence, "have you seen real combat?"
He doesnât falter, his voice steady as he speaks. "I have, Your Grace. I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions. I was knighted after we razed two of the watchtowers along the Boneway.â
There is no hesitation in his tone, no embellishment. The quiet intensity of his words, the weight of lived experience behind them, strikes you deeply. His demeanor isn't that of a man seeking glory but of one who has already faced the fire and come out stronger for it. In that moment, your decision feels clear.
âItâs settled.â Your lips curve into a smile, one of certainty and satisfaction. âI choose Ser Jungkook.â
The Lord Commander stiffens slightly, his jaw tensing as though weighing whether to speak. Before you can take a step back toward your chambers, his voice interrupts, filled with respectful hesitation. "Perhaps we shouldnât be too hasty, Your Grace. There is no doubt Ser Jungkook is a fine warrior, but Ser Namjoon and Ser Seokjin are from houses that are important allies of the Crown."
You turn slowly, your expression cool but firm. The politicking of the court â alliances, the endless exchange of favors and titles â was something you understood all too well. Yet, this was not a matter of alliances. This was the safety of your family, the future of your children. And no amount of courtly maneuvering could change that.
âThose men are tourney knights,â you say, your voice laced with a sharp edge. âMy children should be defended by a man whoâs known real combat. Should they not?â
The Lord Commander pauses, his gaze flickering between the knights and your unwavering stance. He gives a short bow, conceding. âOf course, Your Grace.â
You nod once, satisfied. âVery well, then,â you say, a smile returning to your face, though this time with a sense of finality. âI expect you to plan Ser Jungkookâs investiture.â
Thereâs a flicker of something in the Lord Commanderâs eyes â perhaps begrudging respect or recognition of your authority in this matter. He bows once more before stepping aside. âAs you wish, Your Grace. I will see to it.â
As the days passed, it became clear that your decision to appoint Ser Jungkook was more than justified.
Jungkook proved himself an unwavering presence in the lives of your children. He guarded Ares and Celeste like a loyal hound, always at their side, his dark eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger. Wherever they went â whether it was the training yard where Ares spent hours practicing swordplay or the garden where Celeste attempted to name every flower â Jungkook followed, his sight never leaving them.
In the corridors of the Red Keep, you would often catch glimpses of him, stationed at the door to whatever chamber Ares and Celeste had wandered into, standing with that same quiet intensity that first caught your attention. He never intruded upon their activities, never interfered with their games, but his presence was felt all the same. He was a silent sentinel, ensuring that no one entered or exited a room without his knowledge.
Even the servants and court members began to take note, offering respectful nods as they passed him. There was a certain respect that began to build around Jungkook, not just as a knight, but as a protector of the royal family â of your family.
Before Ser Jungkookâs arrival, the Red Keep had always felt secure. Its towering walls and seasoned guards provided a fortress of safety, a place where danger rarely crossed your mind. Yet, somehow, with Jungkookâs arrival, there was a new, tangible sense of protection. His presence, quiet yet vigilant, added an extra layer of assurance, as if the very air had shifted, growing thicker with safety, steadier with his watchful eye. He didnât need to speak or make grand gestures; just knowing he was there, standing mere feet away from you, made the castle feel more fortified than it ever had before.
In many ways, he made you feel like that too â protected, even in the smallest, unspoken ways.
The Small Council was always the most grueling part of your day. Despite your title as Queen, you found yourself constantly sidelined, your voice often drowned out by the men who dominated the discussions. You had grown accustomed to their subtle condescension â the way theyâd nod and pretend to listen, only to carry on as if your words had never been spoken. Youâd learned to expect it, but the sting of dismissal never faded entirely.
And today was no different.
As you took your seat, Jungkook stood nearby, ever the silent sentinel. Heâd grown adept at reading you, his dark eyes keenly observing the smallest shift in your demeanor. He noticed how, at first, you entered the room with a composed grace, ready to engage in the matters at hand. But as the meeting dragged on, frustration began to creep in, visible in the slight tightening of your jaw each time a man at the table spoke over you or dismissed your suggestions with a polite but infuriating nod.
Jungkookâs eyes followed the subtle changes â the way your posture stiffened, the soft sigh you tried to suppress, and then, finally, the way boredom started to settle in as you reached for the small stone ball on the table, rolling it between your fingers absentmindedly. He knew you were doing your best to remain patient, but the disrespect weighed heavily in the room.
His hand instinctively twitched at his side, a protective instinct rising within him as he stood there watching. He was ready to intervene if the moment called for it, though he knew better than to step in unless absolutely necessary. Still, his silent support was palpable, a reassuring presence amidst the clamor of men who failed to see the strength in the woman before them.
âPerhaps we should discuss Driftmark, Your Grace,â the Maester began, his voice too casual for the gravity of the subject. He directed his attention toward your husband, but the mention of Driftmark instantly drew you in, pulling you from your growing boredom. You straightened in your seat, the defensiveness in your posture clear.
âWhat of it?â Your voice came out sharper than you intended, the raw emotion behind it hard to suppress. Driftmark wasnât just a topic for idle conversation â it was family. Personal. The loss of the Lord of the Tides, your cousinâs husband, had been a blow that still lingered, and the aftermath of it weighed heavily on your heart.
He had been more than just family; he had adored your children as if they were his own, even naming your daughter, Celeste, as his heir. It was an honor, though one with its own set of complications. With Ares set to inherit the Iron Throne, Celeste was to inherit Driftmark. Your cousin, devastated by the loss of her husband and without heirs of her own, was to hold the seat in her stead until Celeste came of age.
The Maesterâs eyes flickered between you and your husband, clearly aware of the tension in the room but too entrenched in his own position to approach the subject delicately. He cleared his throat, then spoke with a tone that bordered on patronizing. âItâs... a delicate matter, Your Grace. There are those who believe the succession should be reconsidered, given your daughterâs age. Furthermore, some question the wisdom of naming a girl as heir to such a powerful seat.â
Your stomach tightened, fury simmering beneath the surface. A girl. As if Celesteâs age or gender diminished her worth, her potential. You could feel the disdain, not just for your daughter, but for the very idea of a woman wielding such power.
You held the Maesterâs gaze, your voice sharp with barely concealed fury. âAnd do you agree with them?â
The chamber seemed to freeze in that moment, the weight of your words pressing down on everyone in the room. All eyes flickered nervously between you and the Maester, the tension palpable as if even the air had thickened, making it harder to breathe. Everyone braced themselves for the confrontation that was surely coming.
The Maester, sensing the chance to finally reveal his true thoughts, straightened in his seat, his chest puffing out as arrogance replaced caution. He no longer glanced toward your husband for approval; instead, his focus was solely on you, his eyes glinting with condescension.
âA woman on the Driftwood Throne, Your Grace?â he repeated, his voice dripping with condescension. âForgive my candor, but Driftmark is not some soft and delicate estate. It is a seat of warriors, sailors, men of the sea and battle. Its history is steeped in strength and tradition. To put a mere girl â no matter her bloodline â on that chair is folly, plain and simple. A womanâs place is in the home, tending to hearth and children, not commanding fleets or sitting in council chambers. The late Lord has a brother who would make a fine new Lord, more befitting the legacy.â
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your hands tightening into fists. âHis brother has no desire for rule!â you shot back, your temper dangerously close to boiling over. âCeleste is his rightful heir. It was his wish, and it will not be questioned!â
The Maester, unfazed, continues. âYour Grace⊠with all due respect, your daughter is but a child. A girl of her age should be concerned with dolls and dresses, not the governance of a seat as vital as Driftmark. There are many in the realm who would argue that Driftmark deserves a stronger hand. A male heir, one capable of steering the course of the future, as tradition demands. Perhaps it is time to reconsider your decision, before itâs too late. Before the realm begins to question not only Driftmarkâs future, but the Queenâs judgment as well.â
The insult hung in the air like a storm cloud, casting a heavy, suffocating tension over the room. The audacity â the sheer gall of the Maester to question not only your daughterâs right but your authority as Queen. Fury simmered beneath your composed exterior, your hand twitching as though you might lash out.
But before you could muster a response, Jungkook was already moving.
âYou will watch your tongue when speaking to the Queen, Maester,â Jungkookâs voice was a low, dangerous rumble, carrying the unmistakable weight of a threat. His usually calm demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more menacing. âOr it shall be taken from you.â
The room seemed to shrink around the Maester, all eyes now on him as the color drained from his face. His earlier arrogance dissolved in an instant, replaced with wide-eyed panic. The man who had dared to question your daughterâs birthright now looked as though he might faint from fear.
âI- I meant no offense, Ser Jungkook,â the Maester stammered, his words tumbling over themselves in a desperate attempt to backpedal. His gaze flickered nervously from you to Jungkook, searching for some kind of escape.
âYou did,â Jungkook cut him off sharply, his tone like the edge of a blade. His gaze bore into the Maester, unyielding, unwavering. âAnd I will remind you once more: mind your tongue.â
The silence that followed was deafening, the threat hanging in the air like a blade, and no one doubted that Jungkook would make good on his promise if pushed further.
You turned your gaze to Jungkook, barely concealing your silent shock. The man who stood just feet away, usually so quiet and composed, always speaking only when spoken to, had stepped in to defend you â boldly, without hesitation. The gesture was unexpected, and for a moment, you were struck by the kindness and protectiveness it held.
It was not just the words he had spoken, but the intensity behind them, the clear signal that he would tolerate no disrespect toward you. In a room full of lords and courtiers who often dismissed your voice, Jungkookâs sudden defense felt like a rare and precious show of loyalty. Uncommon as it was, it left a warmth spreading in your chest, a silent but deeply felt appreciation.
Jungkook still hadnât met your eyes, his intense gaze fixed on the Maester, the disapproval and disgust etched in his expression radiating an aura so fierce, it was almost frightening. He stood there like a wall of steel, silently daring anyone to challenge him again.
You turned your attention back to the Maester, who now squirmed under the weight of the moment. His once confident, condescending exterior had crumbled, now sitting timidly in his seat.
âCeleste is the rightful heir,â you stated, your voice even and composed, though laced with quiet authority. âShe will rule Driftmark, and she will do so just as well as any man ever could. Anyone who questions that,â you paused, allowing the weight of your words to settle over the room, âwill regret it.â
The Maester lowered his head, unable to meet your gaze, his earlier arrogance completely shattered. âOf course, Your Grace. Please, forgive my words.â
Jungkook didnât move an inch, his focus still locked onto the Maester like a hawk waiting for the slightest wrong move. The room felt smaller, the tension almost suffocating as the Maesterâs earlier confidence reduced to a pitiful murmur.
âSee that you donât forget that again,â you said, your tone final and cold, leaving no room for further argument.
With that, you stood up from your seat, the weight of the moment still hanging heavy in the air. Without another word, you turned on your heel and made your way out of the courtroom, every step deliberate, your posture unyielding. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as you moved, a quiet power radiating from you that demanded respect.
Jungkook, as ever, was by your side in an instant, but he kept a respectful distance, just enough to remain a silent protector, his presence still like a shield around you. His footsteps were measured, the sound of his boots echoing softly in the corridors, and yet there was an undeniable sense of security in the space between you two. No words were exchanged as you made your way to your chamber â there was no need for them. His silent solidarity was all you required.
Jungkookâs presence was reassuring, like the calm after a storm, and it made the weight of leadership â of being Queen â just a little easier to bear.
After the heat of earlierâs events, the last thing you wanted was to step foot back into the chaos of the court. The weight of the Maesterâs words still lingered in the air, and you felt the need to retreat, to recharge in the only place that felt truly like yours. So, you didnât leave your chambers for the rest of the day. You took the rare opportunity to unwind, the need for solitude outweighing any further obligations for the day.
Without a second thought, you changed into your nightgown well before the moon rose, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the tense weight of your court attire. You moved with practiced ease, the familiar ritual of shedding the dayâs responsibilities easing the knots in your shoulders.Â
The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting a warm glow that danced across the room. You sank into the couch, the cushions molding to your body as you settled in front of the flames. With a book in hand, you opened the pages, the words inviting you into another world â a world where you could forget, if only for a moment, the burdens of being Queen.
You lost yourself in the story, the flicker of the fire keeping time with the rhythm of your reading. Outside your window, the castle was quiet, the usual noise of the corridors muted by the sanctuary of your chamber. For the first time that day, you felt a sense of peace. The world outside could wait. Here, in the comfort of your own space, you could simply be.
But just as the fireâs soft, flickering glow began to lull you deeper into peace, a knock at the door broke the fragile silence, its sound sharp and intrusive. A flicker of annoyance stirred within you â someone daring to interrupt the quiet sanctuary of your evening. But then, a familiar voice, calm and steady, followed.
âYour Grace?â
Itâs him.
You took a slow breath, the irritation melting away at the sound of his voice, and called softly, âCome in, Ser Jungkook.â
The door creaked open, but Jungkook didnât immediately step inside. He stood just beyond the threshold, his tall frame framed by the dim light spilling from the hall, casting long shadows across the stone floor. There was something endearing in the way he paused there, as though uncertain, hesitating to cross the boundary of your private space without your explicit permission. His respect for the sanctity of your chambers was something rare, a simple act that made him stand out even more.
âMy apologies, Your Grace,â he said, his voice smooth and steady, like the evening air itself. âIâve just come to alert you that the children are abed.â
A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
What you didnât know was that the children had been in bed for some time. Jungkook had only alerted you now because he was standing just outside your door, hesitating. He wasnât sure if he should disturb your peace with the news. Still new to this role, he was uncertain of how to balance his duties with the delicate art of discretion.
âThank you, Ser Jungkook,â you said, your tone warm with gratitude. âI would appreciate it if you informed me every night from now on.â
âOf course, Your Grace. Sleep well.â Jungkook gave a respectful nod, his voice as steady and sincere as ever, and he turned to leave.
âSer Jungkook,â you called again, before he could close the door behind him.
He paused, hand resting lightly on the doorframe, his dark eyes meeting yours in the soft, flickering firelight. For a brief moment, the noise of the castle seemed to fall away, the crackling fire the only sound that filled the space between you. It was rare, these moments of true stillness, where it was just the two of you, no interruptions, no duties weighing on either of your shoulders. The warmth from the fire cast a soft glow over him, accentuating the quiet strength in his features.
For the first time, you found yourself truly looking at him â not just the protector of your children, not just the present knight, but Jungkook.Â
âIâve yet to thank you for earlier â in the Small Council chamber,â you said softly, your voice quiet but earnest. âI appreciate your defense. Thank you.â
The words hung between you for a moment, carrying a weight that felt heavier than it should. It wasnât just the defense itself, though that was significant; it was the quiet way he had stood up for you. Jungkook had always been the silent one, always just there, standing in the background. But today, he had been more. He had spoken when no one else had. His simple act of defending you meant more than you could say.
Jungkookâs posture softened at your words, though his expression remained composed, his usual stoic demeanor intact. Yet, as he held your gaze, his dark eyes seemed to linger a moment longer than usual, a subtle warmth settling in his look that wasnât often there. It was as though the space between you both had shifted, the heavy tension of the day dissolving into something quieter, almost comforting.
âIt was nothing, Your Grace. You need not thank me,â he replied, his voice low and measured, though there was something beneath it â something genuine, almost vulnerable, that made the words feel different from his usual calm, detached responses. His eyes remained steady on yours, and for a moment, the usual distance between you seemed to shrink, as though he was offering something unspoken, something more than just a knightâs duty. âYou shouldnât have to endure that kind of disrespect. Itâs my duty to protect you, in all ways.â
You gave a soft nod, absorbing the weight of his words. Jungkook was a constant in your life â a silent guardian who stood watch over both your children and yourself. But hearing him speak of protecting you in such a way, so plainly and honestly, stirred something within you. It wasnât just your children that mattered to him; it was you, as well.Â
âYou do more than protect,â you said, your voice softer now, the weariness of the day gradually easing. âYour actions today⊠they meant more than you know.â
Jungkookâs lips twitched at the corners, acknowledging your words, but he didnât respond right away. There was a brief silence between you both, the fireâs crackling embers filling the stillness as he shifted his weight, his stance still as rigid as ever, but now, a slight tension in his shoulders had eased.
âIf thereâs ever anything you need, Your Grace,â he said finally, his tone softer than it had been moments before, but with an underlying firmness that conveyed his commitment, âI am here.â
The sincerity in his voice wrapped around you like a quiet promise, steady and unwavering. The light of the fire caught on his features, casting soft shadows over his face, making his usually guarded expression seem less distant, more human. You felt a sense of peace settling into the space between you both, a momentary connection that felt more genuine than anything that had passed between you in the public eye.
âThank you,â you replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, finding comfort in the rare, honest exchange.
Jungkook inclined his head once more, his expression softening in a way that was unusual for him â a small, but genuine smile curling his lips, the warmth of it making him seem more approachable, more... real.
âGoodnight, Your Grace,â he said quietly, voice full of respect, but also something else â something deeper.
âGoodnight, Ser Jungkook,â you murmured in return.
With that, he turned and moved to close the door behind him, the soft click of the latch signaling his departure. But as the door clicked shut, you realized that this time, you didnât feel the usual solitude. There was something different. Something comforting. Something exciting that made the pit of your stomach feel funny, in knowing he was standing just outside your door.
Just the barrier of wood between you two.
The next day unfolded much more peacefully than the last.Â
You sat on the floor of your chamber, the luxurious fabric of your gown pooling around you like a soft sea of silk. The quiet of the room was comforting as you focused on the delicate task in front of you â embroidering a blanket for Luna. Each stitch was a calming motion, your mind momentarily free of the weight of royal duties.Â
You hadnât seen Jungkook yet, but his presence lingered in your thoughts, like an unspoken promise. The anticipation of his arrival stirred a quiet excitement within you, though you had no idea when he might appear.Â
The silence was broken by your husband's voice, cutting through the peaceful air as he entered without knocking, his tone casual. âHow are you feeling today?â
You glanced up briefly, meeting his eyes before returning to your work. âBetter,â you answered, the edges of your lips curving into a faint smile.
âGood,â Atticus replied, smirking as he made his way over to the table and poured himself a goblet of wine. âDo you think youâll be attending the Small Council today?â
You hesitated, the thought of sitting through another long, tedious session filling you with a quiet reluctance. âNo⊠if thatâs alright?â you replied, your tone tentative, not wanting to seem too dismissive of his suggestion.
âOf course,â Atticus said, lifting the goblet to his lips. His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he added, âBut Iâll have you know, Iâve hired a new Maester.â
The words hit you like a spark, and without thinking, you put your needle down. The sudden shift in the conversation caught your attention fully. Your eyes locked onto him, eyebrows raised in surprise. The idea of a new Maester was unexpected â and it immediately piqued your curiosity.
"Are you upset about that?" you asked, your voice soft and laced with a hint of apology, eyes searching his face for any sign of how he truly felt.
Atticus paused, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, and he set the goblet down gently on the table. "I could never be upset with you for only standing up for yourself," he said, his voice steady, though there was an underlying heat to his words. "And someone as disrespectful as that will not continue to walk around in this castle."
His declaration was resolute, filled with a quiet determination. The confidence in his voice was not just from his position, but from a place of deep respect for you. It was as if he had taken the full weight of your frustration upon himself, and the fire behind his words showed that he would do whatever it took to ensure you never had to endure such treatment again.Â
You smile warmly at his words. "Thank you, Atticus."
He pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips, his fingers tapping idly on the edge of the table. "You know, as much as Iâm not in love with you," he says slowly, his tone more thoughtful than usual, "I still love you."
The admission hangs in the air between you, the raw honesty in his voice bringing a quiet comfort. It wasn't the passionate declaration of romance you might have hoped for, but it was the kind of love that ran deep â steady, consistent, unshakable.Â
You meet his gaze, and your heart softens with understanding. "As do I," you reply, your voice gentle but genuine.Â
It wasnât the kind of love that others might expect, filled with grand gestures and whispered sweet nothings. But in its own way, it was a love that had stood the test of time. It isnât passionate, but thereâs a respect and understanding between the two of you that runs deep.
âNow,â Atticus says, his voice low, teasing. âCan we talk about your knight in shining armor?â
You roll your eyes but canât suppress the smirk that tugs at your lips. âOh Gods,â you say, the edge of amusement clear in your voice as you go back to your needlework.
âOh, come on,â he whines, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. âI let you pick, now you have to tell me all about him!â
You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at him. âIt was you who suggested I pick?â
He shrugs nonchalantly, a playful grin tugging at his lips. âI thought youâd feel more content choosing someone yourself.â
âI do,â you reply with a small smile, returning to your embroidery. âIt was a wise suggestion.â
âOh, donât change the subject now!â He motions with a dramatic hand. âWhat was that about yesterday?â
âHe was just defending me,â you say, hoping to dismiss the conversation, though youâre well aware it wonât be that easy.
Atticus lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes in dramatic fashion. âNo knight is that devoted to duty, my dear wife.â
His words make you pause, but you try not to let it show. Still, a smile begins to creep onto your lips, unbidden. You hadnât really allowed yourself to think about it that way. Jungkook had always been quiet, loyal, reliable â but devoted in the way Atticus is hinting? Itâs a thought that stirs something unexpected in you.
âWell, believe it or not,â you say, unable to stop the small grin now, âweâve spoken to each other only a few times.â
Atticus raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly, clearly entertained. âIs that so? And yet, with little words between you, heâs ready to challenge a room full of lords for your honor. Fascinating.â
You roll your eyes, returning to your needlework in an attempt to focus, but your mind canât help but drift back to Jungkook. The memory of his voice, steady and unyielding as he defended you, lingers. Maybe Atticus has a point, but admitting that would only fuel his relentless teasing.
âHeâs just dutiful,â you insist, though even you can hear the uncertainty creeping into your voice.Â
Atticus catches it too, and his smirk widens as he takes a slow, deliberate sip from his goblet. âDutiful because he loves his duty? Or because of you?â
Your cheeks flush instantly, the warmth creeping up your neck as you try to brush off the insinuation. âYouâre reading into this too much,â you mumble, focusing on the embroidery in your lap, though your needlework suddenly seems less interesting.
âAm I?â Atticus drawls, stepping closer, his tone playful but probing. âDid you solely choose him because of his skills?â
You glance up at him briefly, trying to suppress a smile. âAre you implying something?â
He shrugs, the smirk on his lips widening. âWell, did you?â
âI did!â you exclaim, the words tumbling out a little too quickly, as if youâre trying to convince yourself as much as him. You glance up at Atticus, catching the amused gleam in his eyes. âHeâs excellent with the children, and he strikes the perfect balance around here â intimidating enough to make it clear no one should challenge him, but not so much that the children are frightened. I trust him completely, and Iâve only known him a short while.â
Atticus hums, swirling the wine in his goblet with deliberate slowness before taking a sip, his skepticism apparent in the slight arch of his brow.
You shake your head, sighing lightly. âHeâs proven his worth,â you say, trying to sound firm, though the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips betrays you. âItâs his abilities that matter.â
Atticus grins, thoroughly enjoying this exchange. âOf course, his abilities. And itâs just a coincidence that the knight you trust with our childrenâs safety also happens to be rather⊠easy on the eyes?â
You scoff, rolling your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrays your amusement. âHis appearance has nothing to do with why I chose him,â you insist, though your tone has lost its edge, becoming playful and light. âHeâs capable, loyal, and vigilant. His looks are irrelevant.â
Atticus raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening into a knowing grin. âIrrelevant, but not unnoticed?â
You shoot him a mock glare, though the smile tugging at your lips makes it hard to maintain any seriousness. âYouâre impossible,â you say with a shake of your head. âI care about his skills and nothing more.â
Atticus chuckles softly, clearly entertained. âWe shall see,â he teases, his voice lingering in the air as he begins to make his exit. His steps are slow, unhurried, as though heâs savoring the moment.Â
He walks out with a lightness in his stride, and the faint echo of his laughter trails behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts â and the quiet, unsettling realization that maybe, just maybe, his words werenât entirely off the mark.
Returning to the Small Council felt different this time. The atmosphere had shifted. The men were more considerate, actually taking your opinions into account â a stark contrast to their usual dismissiveness. It seemed Atticusâ harsh punishment of the last Maester had sent a clear message: disrespect would no longer be tolerated. They were treading carefully now, not wanting to find themselves in a similar predicament.
You exhaled a long breath as you walked into your chamber, ready to unwind after the tense day. Removing your jewelry, you placed each piece delicately on the table, the soft clink of metal filling the otherwise quiet room. You went to bend down to slip off your shoes, eager for the relief of the cool floor beneath your feet.
But before you could, a sharp point suddenly pressed against your neck.
You froze.
Panic surged through you as the cold blade pressed harder against your skin, the world around you narrowing to the sound of your racing heartbeat.
âDonât scream,â a low voice hissed in your ear, breath hot against your skin, âor you will die.â
Your breath hitched, the threat sinking in, terror flooding your veins. Tears welled in your eyes as helplessness gripped you. You had never felt so vulnerable, so utterly at the mercy of another.
The man spun you around with a jerk, and your gaze landed on another figure lurking in the shadows â both were dressed in the rough, dirt stained garb of rat catchers, but their eyes gleamed with intent far darker than pest control.
âWe were paid to kill the little girl,â the man growled, his eyes boring into yours with malicious purpose. âThe one who is set to inherit Driftmark. Where is she?â
Your heart stopped. They wanted Celeste. Your daughter.Â
Desperation clawed at your insides, but you forced yourself to remain calm, though your voice trembled as you spoke. âI have many things in here of great value,â you said, your mind racing to stall, to buy any time you could. âYou can take whatever you want. Jewelry, goldâŠâ
The man sneered, pressing the blade just a fraction closer, enough to make your skin prickle with fear. âWeâre not here for trinkets,â he spat. âWeâre here for the girl.â
The suffocating pressure eased as the man shoved you away, though he kept his dagger trained on you, its sharp point a constant threat.
âLead us to her,â he snarled, âand you will live.â
Your pulse quickened, panic rising. But amid the terror, you clung to one thought: Jungkook was just outside, standing guard by the childrenâs room. He would protect Celeste.
Heart pounding, you forced your legs to move, stepping cautiously toward the door of your chamber. The rat catchers followed closely, one of them pressing the dagger against your back, a constant reminder of the danger lurking just inches away.
By the time you reached the door, your eyes caught a glimpse of movement. Jungkook â his back against the wood, waiting, ready. His gaze met yours, and in that brief moment, you felt a surge of relief, but it was fleeting.
Before you could react, Jungkook sprang into action. In a heartbeat, he grabbed your arm and yanked you behind him, shielding you with his body. You stumbled backward, watching in awe as he unsheathed his sword with deadly precision.Â
Jungkook wasted no time. His blade sank deep into the stomach of the first rat catcher, a sickening thud echoing in the hallway. The man gasped, blood spurting from the wound, and crumpled to the floor.
The second assailant, wild with desperation, swung his dagger wildly at Jungkook. But Jungkook moved with lethal grace, dodging each strike effortlessly. His movements were swift, controlled, each step calculated. In one fluid motion, he caught the man's wrist mid swing, twisting it with a force that made the man cry out in pain. Jungkookâs grip tightened, and with a brutal efficiency, he forced the attacker to plunge the dagger into his own abdomen.
The manâs eyes widened in shock, the weapon lodged deep within him, his strength faltering. Jungkook released him, and the second rat catcher staggered before collapsing to the ground beside his companion, both of them now lying in pools of their own blood.
In shock, you stood frozen, tears welling in your eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over you. Only a minute ago, you had feared for your life, for your familyâs lives. And now, Jungkook had effortlessly put an end to the rat catchers, his blade on the ground still stained with their blood. It all felt too surreal, too close.
Before you could fully process what had happened, Jungkook rushed to you, his expression softening with concern. He cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch grounding you. âYour Grace? Are you hurt?â His voice was low but urgent, his eyes scanning you for any sign of injury.
You shook your head, still unable to find your voice, too overwhelmed by everything. Your heart pounded, your throat tight as you struggled to keep yourself together.
âYouâre alright now,â Jungkook whispered, his thumbs brushing tenderly across your cheeks. âEverythingâs okay.â
But it wasnât. The fear, the relief, the gratitude â they all hit you at once, overwhelming your senses. And before you knew it, your emotions spilled over. You erupted into sobs, throwing your arms around Jungkookâs neck, seeking the warmth and safety of his presence. You buried your face into his skin, your tears dripping onto his armor as you cried.
Jungkook didnât hesitate for a second. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to him, his strength and warmth offering the comfort you so desperately needed. One of his hands rubbed soothingly up and down your back while the other cradled your head, pressing you gently against his chest. His heartbeat, steady and strong, was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the chaos of your emotions.
âShh, itâs alright,â he murmured into your hair, his voice soft and calming. âYouâre safe now.â
And in that moment, in his arms, you believed him.
After Atticus learned about the rat catchersâ attack, his fury was swift and intense, shaking the very walls of the Red Keep. His voice thundered from the Small Council chamber, echoing through the halls as he took command of the situation. His anger wasnât just justified â it was terrifying. No one dared stand in his way as he set out to make sure something like this could never happen again.
You sat in your childrenâs room, seeking comfort in their innocent presence. Even as you tried to calm your racing heart, the distant roar of Atticusâs orders only heightened the gravity of what had nearly occurred. He wasted no time doubling the guard, placing knights at every vulnerable corner of the Keep. The added protection was meant to reassure, but for you, it only underscored the severity of the danger that had almost taken your daughter.
Atticus was relentless in his pursuit of justice. He immediately dispatched his men to find out who had hired the rat catchers. It wasnât long before the truth came out â your former Maester hadnât been acting alone. There were more, many more, who shared his poisonous view that Celeste, your little girl, had no right to inherit Driftmark. These men, clinging to their outdated belief that only a man should rule, had conspired to end her life before she could ever sit upon the Driftwood Throne.
Those who were caught speaking against Celesteâs claim were dealt with harshly. Atticus showed no mercy. He threw them in the dungeons without a second thought, ensuring that any who dared oppose your daughterâs future would be silenced. In this, he was steadfast, and you were grateful for his fierce protection of your family.
But even with the threat supposedly contained, the fear hadnât left you. That night still clung to you like a dark shadow, creeping into your thoughts when you least expected it. The memory of those men â of their knives and their cruel threats â replayed in your mind every night, a loop you couldnât break free from.Â
Sleep was becoming harder to find. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the attack pressing down on your chest. Even with Jungkook stationed just outside your door, standing as your silent guardian, the sense of unease never fully faded. You trusted him more than anyone now, knowing he had saved you without hesitation, but your mind couldnât silence the what ifs. What if something happened to him? What if the guards missed something? What if they came back?
Tonight was no different. The room was quiet, your children safe in their beds, but your thoughts raced. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind outside felt like a reminder of how close you had come to losing everything. You sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest, trying to calm the storm within.Â
Jungkook was right outside the door â so close, and yet, the fear lingered. You knew he wouldnât let anything happen to you, but that night had changed everything. The vulnerability, the terror, had been too real, and you couldnât just forget it. Even though the Red Keep was locked down, even though Atticus had done everything in his power to keep you safe, you were haunted by the thought that danger still lurked just out of sight.
You couldnât sleep. The quiet room, the stillness, your own thoughts circling endlessly â it was too much. You knew that tonight, like so many others, youâd be awake until the sun rose. So, with a sigh, you slipped out of bed, crossed the room, and quietly opened the door.
And there he was.
Jungkook stood just outside, his back to you, ever vigilant. When the door creaked softly, he turned, eyes meeting yours. In the faint light of the moon, his features were softened, yet his gaze was alert, concerned. The gleam in his eyes caught the moonlight, and for just a moment, the comfort of his presence made the world feel a little less daunting.
âYour Grace?â he asked, his voice low but steady. âI thought youâd be abed by now.â
âI canât sleep,â you admitted, your voice quiet but laden with the weight of sleepless nights and endless worry.
âYouâre safe now,â he said gently, his tone firm yet soothing, as if trying to will your mind to find peace. âAllow yourself to rest.â
You managed a faint smile, though it didnât quite reach your eyes. âYou said youâd be here if I ever needed anything.â
His brows furrowed slightly as he nodded, understanding your unspoken request. âI did.â
You hesitated only briefly before speaking again, your voice softer now. âCan you come in?â
Jungkookâs eyes widened ever so slightly, and he straightened. âYour Grace, I hardly think that is appropriate,â he replied, though his tone was more uncertain than firm. His sense of duty and propriety clashed visibly with his desire to help you.
âIt will comfort me,â you said, the vulnerability in your voice enough to make him falter.
He hesitated, clearly torn. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as if it could ground him in the face of your request. His loyalty to you was absolute, but the boundaries of it were something he grappled with now.
Seeing his hesitation, you added, teasing softly, âYour Queen demands you.â
That earned you a small smile, one that softened the tension in the air. Jungkook shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he conceded. âWell, who am I to deny my Queen?â he said, stepping past the threshold.
As Jungkook entered the room, his mere presence brought with it a sense of security you hadnât even realized youâd been yearning for. His eyes never left yours, filled with a mix of concern and quiet understanding, as you led him over to the couch by the fireplace.Â
You settled yourself on one side, pulling a blanket over your legs as you crossed them beneath its warmth. When you glanced up, you noticed he hadnât joined you yet. Instead, he stood a little distance away, unsure, his posture stiff as if still on duty.
âSit,â you gestured to the empty space beside you.
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to the door as if he still wasnât sure this was the right thing to do. But your gentle command was enough to sway him. With a slight nod, he moved closer, his heavy footsteps softening as he reached the couch. Just as he was about to sit, you spoke again, your voice quiet but firm.
âTake off your armor.â
He froze, eyes wide as if caught off guard by your request. âYour Grace,â he said slowly, his tone almost a warning, a reminder of the boundary he believed needed to remain in place.
But you shook your head, your expression soft but insistent. âI donât want you here as Ser Jungkook,â you explained, your voice carrying a vulnerability you hadnât meant to reveal. âI want you here just as Jungkook.â
For a moment, he didnât move, clearly torn between his sense of duty and the comfort you were asking for. But then, with a slow exhale, he began to unfasten the clasps of his armor, the metallic clinks filling the otherwise quiet room. Piece by piece, the weight of it fell away, and he set it aside, each movement careful and deliberate.
Jungkook looked at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips as he gestured to his cloak. "If you would," he said softly, his eyes warm but with a hint of playful mischief.
You couldnât help but smile back, feeling a bit lighter as you stood from the couch, the blanket slipping from your lap and pooling onto the floor. Your fingers brushed against his as you reached for the clasp of his cloak, feeling the cool metal as you carefully undid it. The fabric was thick and heavy, and as you pulled it off his shoulders, it seemed to take with it some of the invisible barrier he kept between you both.
The air between you felt different now, more intimate, as you set his cloak aside with the rest of his armor. When you turned back to face him, he was watching you closely, his expression softer than before, as if seeing you in a new light.
For a second, you just stood there, gazing at each other in the soft glow of the fire.
Now, without the weight of his armor, Jungkook looked more relaxed, his shoulders less tense, though there was still a quiet alertness in his posture. When you invited him to sit, he did so without hesitation this time, his expression softening as he settled next to you on the couch.
As the fire crackled gently beside you, casting a warm glow over the room, you found yourself seeing him differently. Here, sitting in your chambers, with the walls of duty momentarily lowered, Jungkook wasnât just your knight anymore. He was a man â kind, steady, and unexpectedly gentle in his presence.
âIâve not been able to sleep as of late,â you admitted, your voice quieter, more vulnerable than you intended. âBut with you here... I feel safe.â
Jungkookâs smile was soft, a flicker of warmth that reached his eyes. âIâm happy to hear that,â he said, though his voice was still laced with the respectful formality he always carried. âYour Grace.â
You hesitated for a moment, then spoke your name, more firmly this time. âUse my name. The formalities can stay with your armor⊠Jungkook.â
The moment hung between you, quiet but significant. When he repeated your name, his voice was different, softer, almost intimate. It felt personal, as if you were the only thing that mattered in this room, in this moment.
Your heart fluttered hearing your name on his lips. The way he said it felt more intimate than youâd expected, and as the quiet settled around you both, you realized the walls between you were coming down even more.
âMy mother died when I was four and ten,â Jungkook begins, his voice steady but carrying the weight of years of grief. âShe was murdered right in front of me. I was weak, untrained... I couldnât help her. I just stood there, frozen, and I couldnât save her.â He pauses, his gaze distant, lost in the painful memory. âWhen I left the childrenâs chamber to go guard yours and I saw those rat catchers in there⊠I knew I couldnât let you down like I did my mother. I couldnât let that happen again.â
Your heart clenches and your brows knit in sorrow, completely torn by his story. His words hang heavy in the air, the realization of his past weighing on your chest. You feel both gratitude and guilt â glad that Jungkook trusts you enough to open up, yet heartbroken by the trauma heâs lived through.
It suddenly makes sense â why heâs always so guarded, so precise, so fiercely loyal. You understand now why he was trained in combat at such a young age, why heâs so vigilant, and why he holds himself to such a high standard. His devotion to you, his protection of your family, it all stems from a promise he made to himself long ago, a promise born from tragedy.
You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm resting on the back of the couch, your touch warm and comforting. Jungkookâs gaze flickers to where your hand rests on his arm, and then back to your face, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
âYouâve done well to uphold that promise,â you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. As your eyes meet his, you offer him a genuine smile, hoping it conveys the compassion you feel. âYour mother would love the man youâve grown to be, Jungkook.â
For a brief moment, Jungkookâs eyes soften, his usual stoic expression breaking. He looks almost vulnerable, as if the weight he carries is shared, if only for a second.
âThank you,â he says softly, his voice low and sincere. âI find myself very⊠protective over you.â
You tilt your head slightly, a teasing smile curling at the corners of your lips. The soft glow of the fire casts a warm light over your face, and your eyes seem to shimmer with curiosity. âWhy is that?â you ask, a playful lilt to your tone as you watch him.
Jungkook hesitates for a beat, his dark eyes holding yours. He slowly pulls his arm away, the loss of contact leaving your skin colder than you expected. But before you can fully miss the warmth, you feel the feather light touch of his fingertips brushing down your arm. His touch is slow, deliberate, sending a tingling sensation across your skin, awakening something inside you.
Your breath catches as his fingers trail lower, the gentle path they take igniting a flutter in your chest. When his hand finally finds yours, his touch is warm and firm, his fingers lacing with yours like it was meant to be all along.
Jungkook looks down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over the back of your hand as if testing the waters. âItâs more than duty now,â he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with something deeper. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and you can see the vulnerability there, something raw and unguarded. âI canât explain it fully, but⊠itâs like youâve become more than just someone Iâm sworn to protect.â
His gaze lingers on your face, searching for a reaction, and you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you â curiosity, anticipation, and something that feels dangerously close to longing.
Your lips part slightly, your heart hammering in your chest as the room feels smaller, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. âMore than duty?â you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkookâs fingers tighten just a little around yours, grounding you in the moment. His eyes soften, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. âYes⊠much more than duty,â he says, his voice tender yet filled with a quiet intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls, but all you can focus on is him â on the warmth of his hand, the depth in his gaze, and the way the space between you seems to shrink with each passing second.
With his fingers still interlaced with yours, Jungkook gently pulls you closer. The sudden shift brings you nearer to him, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling your cheeks heat up as you blush under his gaze. The warmth of his body, the way his eyes are fixed on you â it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.
As the distance between you vanishes, your breath catches when you realize his gaze is locked on your lips. Itâs intense, and it makes your heart race. You watch, spellbound, as he lifts his other hand slowly. His thumb brushes tenderly across your bottom lip, the pad of his finger soft against your skin. The simple, teasing touch sends a wave of warmth washing over you.
He lingers there for a moment, rubbing your lip, and then his thumb presses just a little more insistently, grazing the slit of your mouth as though silently asking for permission. The unspoken question in his eyes makes your pulse quicken, and you instinctively part your lips in response. His thumb slips inside, and you close your mouth gently around it, letting him in.
Your eyes remain on him as his thumb rests against your tongue, the sensation both intimate and electrifying. The fire crackles in the background, but the world feels muted, like itâs just you and him in this moment. Your heart pounds, and the connection between you grows stronger as you suck lightly on his digit.
Jungkookâs breathing becomes slightly uneven as he watches you, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more primal. He gently withdraws his thumb, his fingers now tracing the curve of your jaw, his touch both firm and tender. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.
The air between you is thick with anticipation, the moment heavy with the promise of whatâs to come. His forehead rests against yours, and for a heartbeat, time seems to stop.
âWe should stop before things go further,â Jungkook whispers, his voice low and husky, the warmth of his breath tickling your lips as he gives you the chance to pull away.
You pause, your heart racing in your chest. âWe should,â you whisper back, the words lingering in the air between you both.
But neither of you move.
Instead, your gaze remains locked on his, and you can feel the heat radiating between you, the unspoken desire that lingers in the small space that still separates you.
And just like that, his lips are on yours.
The kiss is electric, his lips soft yet insistent as they press against yours. Itâs slow at first, a tentative exploration, but the moment your mouths meet, everything else fades into the background.
As your lips remain locked with his, you straddle his lap, the movement seamless and natural, as if youâve both been leading up to this moment for far too long. Your hands slide behind his head, fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, tugging lightly as the kiss grows more heated, more desperate.
Jungkookâs hands find your waist, gripping you firmly, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine. You feel his muscles tense beneath your fingertips as you press yourself against him, your hips moving instinctively. A soft gasp escapes your lips when you feel the hardness beneath you, his cock straining against the fabric of his breeches, the friction making you yearn for more.
Your hips begin to buck slowly, grinding against him as you search for more contact, more release. The heat between you two is palpable now, your breath mingling with his as the kiss deepens, tongues tangling in a rhythm that matches the slow, steady roll of your hips. Every shift of your body sends a wave of pleasure through you, and you can feel his grip tighten on your waist, his breathing growing heavier.
Jungkook lets out a low groan against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, igniting something primal. You can feel the restraint heâs holding onto, the tension in his body as he struggles to keep control, but the way his hands grip your waist tells you heâs just as lost in the moment as you are.
The friction between you both builds, the heat intensifying, but the layers of fabric between you only heighten the desire, making you ache for more.
âPerhaps I should thank you,â you whisper against his lips, your breath hot and teasing as your hips roll against him, causing a deep groan to escape from Jungkookâs throat. You can feel him hardening beneath you, his body responding despite his attempts to maintain composure. âFor your serviceâŠâ
His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to make you feel how much heâs holding back. âIt is only my mere duty,â he says, voice strained, each word laced with barely controlled desire.
You smile at his restraint, your lips moving to brush against the sharp line of his jaw. âYouâve done so much,â you murmur, your lips trailing lower, leaving a warm path down his neck, just beneath his jaw. His skin is soft and warm, and his pulse races beneath your touch. You hear his breath catch as you kiss along his collarbone, each word punctuated by a slow, deliberate press of your lips. âFor meâŠâ You move lower, your kisses more intentional, feeling his chest rise and fall more rapidly under your touch. âFor my childrenâŠâ
His hands twitch on your hips, torn between pulling you closer and letting you continue your slow, torturous descent. When you glance up at him, you see the way his dark eyes watch your every movement, clouded with need, a silent plea for more even as he struggles to keep himself grounded.
"I think you deserve a reward," you whisper, your voice sultry, teasing as your lips hover just above the edge of his tunic. Your fingers slowly, deliberately trace the hem, brushing against his heated skin as you make him wait, drawing out the anticipation.
Jungkook's head falls back, his lips parted as he releases a shaky breath, his control slipping with every passing second. His voice is a low growl, thick with longing. âYou owe me nothing,â
You shake your head softly, your lips grazing the exposed skin of his chest. âI owe you everything,â you whisper back, your voice filled with sincerity and seduction, the intensity of the moment building as your hand moves lower, testing the boundaries of his restraint.
His body tenses beneath your touch, but his hands stay firm on your hips, holding you against him as if heâs afraid to let go. His eyes meet yours again, dark and full of raw emotion, his voice hushed, almost reverent. âI am yours,â he breathes, and in that moment, you know that he means every word.
With a soft smile playing on your lips, you slowly lift yourself off his lap, feeling the tension in the air as you lower yourself to the ground, kneeling between his legs. Jungkook watches you closely, his breathing uneven, eyes darkened with a mix of anticipation and restraint.
You place your hands gently on his thighs, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric of his breeches, his muscles tense beneath your touch. You start slow, allowing the moment to settle between you, your fingers tracing soft, deliberate circles along his thighs, teasing without rushing. Jungkookâs breath hitches slightly, his gaze locked on your every movement, as if entranced by the sight of you at his feet.
With a deliberate slowness, you begin to untie the laces of his breeches, savoring the quiet rustling of fabric as you pull them off completely, your fingertips brushing against his skin, making him shiver. You take your time, your eyes never leaving his, a playful gleam in your gaze as you watch his resolve crumble little by little.
His cock springs free, finally released from its tight confines. Jungkook lets out a low groan, the sudden release of tension sending a wave of relief through him. The sight of him, hard and ready, makes your breath catch, but you donât rush. Instead, you rest your hands on his thighs again, grounding yourself in the warmth of his skin, feeling the subtle flex of his muscles beneath your palms.
You glance up at him, and the intensity in his gaze sends a thrill down your spine. His lips are parted, his breath heavy, and you can see the restraint in the way he grips the couch, knuckles white, fighting the urge to take control.
You spit into your hand before wrapping it around his cock, feeling its warmth and weight resting in your palm. You start slow, allowing him to adjust to the sensation, your fingers curling around him with a firm but careful grip. As your hand begins to move, sliding up and down in deliberate, teasing strokes, Jungkook's head falls back against the couch. A low, breathy moan escapes his parted lips, his chest rising and falling more heavily with each breath, betraying his struggle to hold onto his composure under your touch. His muscles tense, eyes fluttering shut, as the pleasure builds with each movement.
His reaction fuels you, and you keep your pace slow and sensual, your hand gliding smoothly along his length. Each movement draws another sound from him â whether itâs a quiet sigh, a deep groan, or the way his breathing catches for a split second. The power you hold in this moment, the way his body responds to your touch, makes the air between you feel electric, alive with tension.
Jungkookâs fingers dig into the cushions beside him, as if holding on for control, but you can see the way his restraint is unraveling, bit by bit. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parted in silent bliss, eyes closed as he surrenders to the sensation.
With a mischievous smile, you tighten your grip just a little, adding the slightest bit more pressure as you continue to stroke him, and his moan deepens, sending a shiver through you.
You lean in, teasingly slow, letting the anticipation build. Jungkookâs breath hitches as he watches you, his chest rising and falling faster, his hands tightening into fists. The moment your tongue makes contact with the tip of his cock, his body tenses. You start with soft, delicate kitten licks, testing his sensitivity, letting him feel every light flick of your tongue as you work.
A bead of precum gathers at the tip, and you lap it up, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. Jungkookâs groan is deep, almost guttural, his head tipping back against the couch once more as you tease him with your soft licks, never giving him more than just a taste of whatâs to come.
The way he reacts, the way his body trembles under your touch, only spurs you on. You take your time, savoring the control you have over him, feeling the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.
You glance up at him through your lashes, enjoying the sight of Jungkook completely lost in the moment, his lips parted, breath heavy. His reaction fuels your desire to tease him more. Your tongue moves slowly, deliberately, swirling around his sensitive tip, while your hand continues its steady rhythm, pumping him with just enough pressure to keep him on edge.
He moans again, low and deep, his hips instinctively bucking up, searching for more of that friction youâre so teasingly withholding. You hum softly, the vibrations making his cock twitch against your tongue. You take him a little deeper, wrapping your lips around the head, sucking gently as you let your hand pump the base, building the tension.
Jungkookâs hands grip the couch tightly, fighting to stay still, his body betraying him with every small thrust of his hips. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, your tongue working against the underside of his shaft as you slide him further into your mouth. His response is immediate â his body jerks, a strangled groan escapes him, and you feel his hands twitch as if heâs fighting the urge to reach out and grab you.
You reach up and intertwine your fingers with his, and in that simple gesture, a new layer of intimacy blooms between you. His grip is firm, almost desperate, as if holding your hand is the one thing grounding him in the intensity of the moment. It's no longer just about desire; it's something deeper, more vulnerable, a connection that transcends the physical. His thumb gently brushes over your knuckles, a soft, tender contrast to the raw passion swirling around you. That small touch, full of unspoken emotion, speaks louder than words ever could, reminding you both that this is more than just a fleeting moment â itâs a quiet, shared promise.
Jungkookâs breathing becomes even more ragged as you continue to take him deeper, your lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to push him closer to the edge. You can feel his restraint, the way heâs holding back, trying to stay in control despite the pleasure coursing through him.
He groans, your name slipping from his lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. You hum softly in response, the vibrations causing another moan to escape his lips. The combination of his hand in yours, his soft gasps, and the warmth of his skin beneath your touch creates an almost overwhelming sense of connection.
You pull off him with a soft, wet pop, leaving his cock glistening in the firelight. Your lips curve into a teasing smile as you drag your tongue slowly along the length of his shaft, watching his reaction. Jungkookâs breath catches, his body tensing with anticipation. When you reach his base, you let your tongue dip lower, tracing a path to his balls. You take your time, licking and teasing the sensitive skin before gently sucking them into your mouth.
The reaction is immediate â his hips jerk up involuntarily, a deep moan escaping him as his head falls back against the couch. His knuckles are white as he grips the cushions, and his fingers tighten around yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment. You keep your eyes on him, enjoying the way his face contorts with pleasure, his lips parting with a shuddering breath.
âFuck,â he groans, voice rough and strained, the sound vibrating through the air, sending a thrill through you. His chest rises and falls heavily as you continue to pump his cock in your hand, your strokes slow and deliberate, matching the rhythm of your mouth as you suck gently on his balls.
You can feel the tension building in him, his body trembling slightly under your touch. His muscles are taut, straining as he tries to hold himself back, but you know heâs close. The soft, breathless curses he murmurs between groans let you know just how much you're driving him to the edge.
Jungkookâs mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more intoxicating than the last. The feel of your mouth wrapped around his cock is overwhelming, your lips warm and slick as they glide over him, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. But what makes his pulse race even more is the sight of you â the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms â on your knees before him, your eyes dark with desire, lips wet and swollen as you take him deeper.
He can barely process it. A part of him feels like heâs lost in a dream, but the grip of your hand on his thigh, the soft, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat of your mouth around him all ground him in reality. His fingers tighten around yours, the intimacy of your entwined hands a stark contrast to the lust coursing through him.
He canât stop thinking about how utterly beautiful you look, your regal composure gone, replaced by raw want. Itâs sinful, how he can feel his cock throbbing in your mouth while your crown sits not too far away, a reminder of who you are â his Queen. And yet, here you are, on your knees, giving yourself to him so completely.
And then thereâs the thought of what comes next. His cock twitches at the idea of getting you beneath him, of spreading your legs wide and burying himself in your warmth. Heâs desperate to feel you around him, to watch your face twist with pleasure as he takes you, over and over again.
But even with all those thoughts swirling in his mind, one thing keeps echoing louder than the rest: the sheer power of this moment. The Queen, on her knees, sucking his cock like sheâs wanted this as much as he has.
The thought sends another wave of heat through his body. Heâs barely holding on, every moan, every stroke of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge. His breaths come faster, more ragged, his hips beginning to move on their own, thrusting gently into your mouth.Â
Before Jungkook can take control, you pull back, rising from the ground and denying him the release he craves with a teasing smile. His frustrated groan fuels your confidence as you straddle him again, your knees resting on either side of his hips. Your fingers intertwine with his, and you guide both of his hands behind his head, locking your arms around his neck. His arms cross behind him, muscles flexing as he fights to keep himself in check.
The intensity in his eyes is undeniable â burning with desire, frustration, and the raw need to touch you, yet restrained by the control you've taken. Every part of him is taut, his body tense beneath you, waiting, aching for your next move. His gaze never wavers, fixed on you with an almost desperate longing, as if the anticipation alone could undo him.
You lean in slowly, planting a soft kiss on his lips, then another on his cheek, your breath brushing his skin. His chest rises and falls against yours, the heat between you both building to a near unbearable height. Then, lips grazing his ear, you whisper in a low, sultry voice, âI want you to fuck me the way a Queen should be fucked.â
Your words send a shudder through him, his body reacting instantly to your challenge. The restraint heâs been holding onto falters, his breathing turning ragged, his grip tightening slightly on your hands. The dominance of your demand ignites something primal in him, the heat in his gaze searing into you.
"Your Grace..." Jungkook murmurs, his voice deep and breathless, the title slipping out before he can stop it, laced with a mix of reverence and raw, uncontained desire. The slip into formality catches him off guard, as if heâs forgotten to leave the titles behind along with his armor. His jaw clenches, the tension in his body palpable as his control begins to fray at the edges. His eyes burn into yours, dark and hungry, as if your very presence has set him ablaze, and now, all he can do is watch helplessly as the flames consume him.
You feel the tension in his body, the way heâs holding himself back, and you smirk, rolling your hips against him, letting the friction drive him further into madness. âAre you going to make me wait, or must I command you again?â
Thatâs all it takes. His resolve snaps. With a low, feral growl, Jungkook releases your hands and grabs you by the thighs, lifting you effortlessly in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised giggle, heart racing at how easily heâs carrying you across the room. His strength, his commanding presence â itâs intoxicating, making your body heat with anticipation.
With a mischievous grin, he throws you down onto the bed, your body bouncing softly against the mattress. Jungkook is on you in an instant, crawling over you with a predatory grace, his body looming above yours, eyes dark and filled with intent. His hands press into the mattress on either side of you, caging you beneath him. The weight of him, the way his muscles ripple as he moves, has your breath catching in your throat.
His lips hover just inches from yours, teasing, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, âIâll show you exactly how my Queen should be fucked.â
Thereâs a rough edge to his voice now, one that sends shivers down your spine. His hands trail down your sides, fingers curling around the fabric of your dress, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. He takes a moment to admire the sight of you beneath him, his gaze smoldering as he drinks in every inch of your bare skin.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Jungkookâs lips descend to your neck, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your throat, your collarbone, and lower still, as his hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place. His touch is everywhere â greedy, relentless â stoking the fire thatâs been building between you all night.
As his mouth moves lower, a soft moan escapes your lips, your body arching instinctively toward him, craving more. And just when you think you canât take any more teasing, he pulls back, hovering above you once more, eyes dark with lust and promise.
Jungkook pulls off his tunic, standing before you, fully bare. His gaze is unwavering, filled with awe and raw desire as he drinks in the sight of you, every inch of your body drawing him in with quiet reverence. The heat of his stare is palpable, his lips parting slightly as his eyes travel from your breasts down to your stomach, pausing at the faint stretch marks left behind by your children.Â
Thereâs no shame in his gaze, only admiration â those marks are a testament to your strength, the life youâve brought into the world. His hand reaches out, hesitating for just a second before brushing over your skin, tracing the delicate lines with his fingertips, as if memorizing every detail. His touch is tender, contrasting the heat in his eyes, and the reverence in his expression makes your heart swell.Â
âSo beautiful,â he murmurs, his voice hushed but filled with sincerity, almost as though he's speaking to himself. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell. Thereâs no hesitation in his gaze, no second thoughts â just pure admiration.
You canât help but smile. Despite being nearly bare beneath him, you donât feel vulnerable. You feel cherished, worshipped even, as if this wasnât the first time heâs seen you like this. Thereâs a sense of ease between you, as if his presence was always meant to be like this â intimate and without fear.Â
Jungkook leans in closer, his lips trailing down to your hip bone, placing a soft, lingering kiss there. The sensation is both grounding and electrifying, sending a shiver through your body. You glance down, meeting his gaze â intense and burning with desire, the kind of look that makes your heart race and your breath falter. In that moment, you can feel the fire behind his eyes, as if the world has fallen away and you're the only thing that matters.
Without breaking the connection, he lowers himself further, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The kiss is soft, reverent, but full of promise, inching closer to the place where you crave his touch the most. Your breath catches in your throat, anticipation thick in the air, when he finally leans forward and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your pussy through your soaking wet underwear.
A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the sudden contact, and instinctively, you lift your leg, gently pressing your foot against his shoulder to stop him from going further. His eyes flash with surprise, but thereâs a glimmer of amusement in them as he looks up at you, waiting for your command.
âMaybe another time,â you murmur, your voice breathless but firm. âI want your cock.â
Your words hang in the air, heavy with anticipation, and Jungkookâs expression shifts, darkening with pure lust. He gives a low growl of approval, his hands gripping your thighs a little tighter as he quickly moves back up your body.
Jungkook wastes no time, his hands quick but careful as he pulls off your last piece of clothing and positions himself between your legs. His cock, already hard and slick with anticipation, brushes against your entrance, the warmth of him sending a ripple of electricity through your body. You can feel the tension in his muscles, every inch of him taut with restraint as he fights the urge to simply take you. He wants this moment to be more than just a rush of desire.
With a slow, deliberate nudge of his hips, he presses the tip of his cock against your core, the sensation both tantalizing and overwhelming. Your body reacts immediately, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he teases your entrance, the heat between you intensifying. His eyes are locked on yours, as if heâs savoring every second before fully sinking into you.Â
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer, urging him to give you exactly what youâve been yearning for. His lips crash onto yours in a heated kiss, the moment charged with raw, unspoken passion as he finally pushes into you.
âOh Gods,â you moan, your back arching off the bed as the sudden stretch overwhelms you. Jungkook fills you completely, every inch of him pressing into you, making your breath hitch as your body adjusts to the delicious pressure. His movements slow for a moment, letting you feel every bit of him, the weight of his body grounding you as the heat between your legs spreads throughout your entire body.
Jungkookâs forehead drops to yours, his breathing ragged as he holds himself still, giving you a moment to adjust. "You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice thick with restraint. His hands roam your body, gripping your hips as though he needs to hold onto something to keep himself from losing control completely.
Your fingers slide up his back, nails grazing his skin as you tug him closer, desperate for more. "Move," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I need you."
Thatâs all it takes.
With a low growl, Jungkook begins to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the sensation sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. Each movement is deliberate, deep, and measured. Your moans mix with his breathless grunts, filling the room with the sounds of your shared desire.
Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust. His pace quickens, and soon, heâs moving faster, harder, the rhythm building as the pleasure between you grows. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your moans growing louder, more desperate as you cling to him, completely lost in the moment.Â
Jungkookâs lips find your neck, peppering kisses along your skin between ragged breaths. âYou feel so good⊠so fucking good,â he pants, his hips snapping against yours with growing urgency.Â
Your hands tangle in his hair, your body responding to his with a need thatâs been simmering for so long, now finally unleashed. "Donât stop," you moan, your voice shaky as the heat within you builds to a breaking point.Â
Jungkookâs thrusts become erratic, his breath hot against your ear. "Donât think I can stop," he chuckles, his words sending a shiver through you just as the first waves of release begin to crash over you.Â
You kiss him eagerly, teeth grazing his bottom lip before tugging at it playfully. Jungkook groans into your mouth, his hips stuttering for a moment at the sensation. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more heated as your hands pull him closer, your nails digging into his back.
He responds in kind, his lips crashing back onto yours, the intensity of his kiss matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He bites gently on your bottom lip in return, making you gasp into his mouth, your bodies completely in sync as the pleasure mounts between you.
Your kiss is a frenzy of passion, tongues dancing, breaths mingling, as every movement pulls you closer to the edge. You tug harder at his lip, and he growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips and sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins.
Jungkookâs pace becomes relentless, his control slipping as he loses himself in you. âThe day of the Kingsguard posting,â he starts breathlessly, his voice low and rough as he thrusts into you. âWhen you walked onto the balcony⊠I saw you. Thought you were so pretty. So, so pretty.â
His words, spoken between ragged breaths, send a shiver down your spine, making you arch closer into him. You gasp, your hands clutching onto his shoulders as his confession wraps around you like a heated secret. The intensity in his eyes as he speaks, as he moves inside you, is overwhelming â his vulnerability laid bare, a part of himself heâs never shared with anyone else.
âI shouldnât have thought it,â he continues, his voice thick with desire and restraint as his pace quickens, âbut I couldnât help it. I wanted you from that moment.â
You feel your heart pound in your chest, not just from the pleasure but from his raw honesty. Your lips part, but no words come out, only breathless moans as he pushes you closer to the edge. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips brushing your ear.
âI never thought Iâd have you like this,â he whispers, his voice rough with awe and hunger, each word laced with the weight of unspoken desire. âBut now that I do⊠Iâm never letting go.â
His confession wraps around you, sending a shiver through your body as his movements become more intense. The passion in his eyes, the way his body presses into yours, has you spiraling, lost in the heat between you.
You raise a trembling hand, gently brushing his hair back, your fingertips lingering against his skin. âIâm yours,â you breathe, the words slipping from your lips like a vow.
The way his eyes darken, the way his grip tightens on you, tells you heâs heard it loud and clear. And in this moment, you know heâll hold onto that promise as tightly as he holds onto you.
He laughs out a moan at this. His pace quickens, his thrusts deeper, harder, each one sending you spiraling further. Your moans mix with his, filling the room, the sound of skin against skin only adding to the fire between you. His hands roam your body, memorizing every curve, every inch of you like itâs the last time.
âIâm so close,â he whispers, his voice strained, his body trembling as he fights for control. His forehead presses against yours again, his eyes searching yours, desperate, as if heâs asking for permission to lose himself in you.
You nod, your own release building, teetering on the edge. âCum with me,â you breathe, your voice shaky, your heart pounding in your chest. âPlease.â
With a few more deep, powerful thrusts, you feel Jungkookâs body tense as he releases into you, a low groan escaping his lips. The sensation triggers your own climax, waves of pleasure crashing through you as your body tightens around him. You gasp, arching against him, your hands clutching at his back as you ride out the overwhelming sensations together.
His name tumbles from your lips in a soft moan, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. For a moment, the world outside fades â it's just the two of you, tangled together, hearts pounding in sync, as you both come down from your highs.
He doesnât move right away, his weight still pressed against you, his hands tracing slow, soothing circles on your hips as he catches his breath. You can feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, a silent reminder of the intensity you just shared.
Finally, Jungkook picks his head up from your chest, his dark eyes soft as they meet yours. He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, just because he finally can. It feels different now, with no hesitation between you, just pure connection. After pulling away, he shifts to lay beside you, pulling you against his chest, your bodies fitting together perfectly.Â
You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, both of you catching your breaths, the calm after the storm. Jungkookâs fingers absentmindedly trace shapes on your back, lulling you into a peaceful haze. But then, he breaks the quiet with a teasing tone.
âDid I exceed your expectations, my Queen?â His voice is low and playful, a soft chuckle escaping him.
You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. âArrogant, are we?âÂ
But you donât let him respond. Instead, you sit up, straddling his waist once again, your grin mischievous as you lean down to kiss him, deeper this time, your lips lingering against his.Â
âMight need to go again to give you a wholehearted answer,â you say with a smirk, looking down at the man who looks far too comfortable in your bed â a man who, by all means, shouldnât be here.
His eyes widen for a moment before a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, matching your energy. He chuckles, his hands gripping your waist firmly, his desire evident.
Jungkook knew that once the children were tucked safely into bed, these sneaky nights with you would be his favorite part of the day â full of far more excitement than heâd ever imagined.
The days stretched on like endless hourglasses, the sand moving far too slowly. Every moment of the daylight hours was consumed by anticipation, the constant pull of wanting the sun to sink and the moon to rise. It was during the night, when Jungkook would slip quietly into your chamber, that the world finally felt right.
Whether it was tangled sheets, quiet conversations, soft laughter, or simply lying in each otherâs arms, those moments with him were the highlight of your days â only second to the joy of your childrenâs smiles, of course. But with Jungkook, time seemed to bend, each night feeling like a stolen treasure that you cherished more with every passing hour.
As much as you despised the act of walking past Jungkook during the day, pretending he wasn't your lover at night, the thrilling game of trying not to get caught was undeniably fun.
The secret, the tension of it, had its own special allure. Yet, there were moments when the near misses took a more terrifying turn.
Like that one time.
You'd been soaking in a bath, the water warm and fragrant with bubbles, the steam swirling around you like a blanket of comfort. But Jungkook, always unpredictable, had snuck in without a sound. Before you could even protest, he was stripping himself bare, sliding into the tub with you, the sudden shift in water making a small splash as he settled in.
Laughter filled the room as water overflowed, but that quickly faded into a mix of heavy breaths, wet skin, and the sound of sloppy kisses. Jungkook's hands gripped your waist as he leaned back, his head resting against the tub's edge, eyes locked on you. Your hips moved in sync, the sound of water splashing and your soft moans combining with his groans, creating a rhythm that made your heart race.
Then, just as the heat between you both reached its peak, a knock at the door shattered the moment. It was so sudden and unexpected that Jungkook's hand shot up, covering your mouth before you could release a gasp, freezing you in place. Your breath caught, heart pounding in your chest.
"Your Grace, I have your warm towels," came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. The maid sounded so oblivious, so unaware of what was actually happening just beyond the wooden barrier.
Jungkook didn't move a muscle, still as stone, his hand resting over your lips as his eyes met yours with a mischievous glint. Slowly, he lifted his hand, urging you to speak.
"J- just leave them at the door," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heartbeat betrayed your calm facade. "Iâll grab them once I'm finished."
Jungkook stifled a chuckle, clearly finding the entire situation amusing as though it was nothing more than a joke to him. But you knew better. This was dangerous, reckless, and could cost both of you far more than just embarrassment.
"Very well, Your Grace," came the maid's voice, before the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance.
The moment she was gone, you slapped Jungkook's chest, eyes narrowed in mock fury. "We could've been caught," you said, your voice laced with both exasperation and something else â something darker, more thrilling. But the smile that tugged at your lips betrayed your feigned seriousness.
Jungkook grinned, his chest rising and falling with a quiet chuckle, as he pulled you back toward him, the playful tension still lingering in the air.
Because nights with Jungkook were always too short, he made sure to steal as many kisses and playful winks during the day as possible. The fleeting moments shared between you were like stolen treasures, hidden in plain sight.
Whenever the children finished their lessons, Jungkook was quick to position himself in front of the door to the next room theyâd move into, knowing you'd soon follow, eager to check on them and hear about what theyâd learned. Each time, like clockwork, youâd approach, ready to step past him, only for him to block your way with a teasing grin.
âLet me in,â youâd whine softly, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
Heâd simply point to his cheek, signaling for a kiss as if he were making a royal decree. Youâd roll your eyes but play along, leaning in. Just as your lips brushed his cheek, heâd turn his head swiftly, catching your kiss on his lips instead.
Your heart would race as you quickly pecked his lips once more, a mixture of thrill and worry filling you at the thought of someone walking down the corridor and catching you both. With a final flustered glance at him, youâd hurry into the chamber to join your children, trying to maintain your composure as you asked them about their day.
Meanwhile, Jungkook would stand tall outside the door, his expression serious, as though he was merely guarding the room. But the sparkle in his eyes and the lingering hint of a smile betrayed him, the playful mischief still present even as he forced himself to appear composed.
The only person who knew about your secret relationship with Jungkook was Atticus. Youâd confided in him, and he had been overjoyed to learn heâd been right all along. He had always suspected something, but hearing it from you only fueled his excitement and pride at being in on the secret.
Jungkookâs devotion to you went far beyond his duty as a knight. On the surface, he played his role flawlessly, always by your side, always vigilant. To everyone else, he was simply your loyal protector, the ever watchful guard who would give his life without question. But beneath that armor, beneath the stern facade he wore in public, his loyalty ran much deeper.
He wasnât just devoted to you as his Queen; he was devoted to you as the woman he loved, with a fierce, unshakable passion that transcended titles or obligations. Every time he stood by your side, it wasnât just as your sworn knight but as the man who would do anything to keep you safe, even if it meant loving you in secret for the rest of his life.
In the quiet moments, when the world wasnât watching, his love shone through. The way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his fingers lingered just a moment longer when they brushed against yours, or the way his lips would curl into a faint smile when he caught you stealing glances at him. It was in the way he held you at night, after everyone else had gone to bed, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke of a love so deep, words could never do it justice.
Jungkook didnât need grand gestures or declarations of love. His devotion was in the small things, the quiet sacrifices, the way he protected you not just with his sword but with his heart. Every glance, every touch, every whispered word in the darkness was a testament to his unwavering loyalty â not to the crown, not to his duty, but to you.
And though the world might never see the depth of his devotion, you felt it every day. In the way he watched over you, in the way he shielded you from not only physical threats but from the weight of loneliness that sometimes crept in. He was your protector, not just in body but in spirit.
As the years passed, your secret love remained hidden, but his devotion never wavered. No matter the risks, no matter how many times you had to pretend in public that he was nothing more than a knight, Jungkookâs heart was yours, fully and completely.
In the end, it didnât matter that the world would never know the truth. You knew. You saw the way he loved you, not just as a knight sworn to protect you but as a man devoted to your heart, forever bound to you in a way that went beyond duty or title.
And in that devotion, you found your peace. Because you knew, no matter what happened, Jungkook would always be by your side â not just as your protector but as your lover, your confidant, and the one person who truly understood the depths of your soul.
© voyter 2024, all rights reserved.
#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook fanfic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook imagine
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VOID STATE EXPLAINED: HOW TO GET THE LIFE YOU DREAM OF á„«áĄ
A TELL-ALL GUIDE TO THE METHOD EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT
so in my asks i have alot of people going âsai, you always go on and on and on and on about the void and different problems people may have, but you never explain what it is and how to get thereâAnd to be honest with you, most of my posts were meant to be that way because i knew of other blogs explaining the void and my blog was just meant to be follow up posts for those who already knew about the void. Although, now i feel more confident and equipped to explain the void in its entirety.
so strap in for this long ass post because this is a gonna be THE guide (if you canât tell iâm very excited for this post)
i just wanna say that this post is an inspiration and a remix of all those that have inspired me
1. What is the void?
so as you can see yourself and life right now is you in the physical plane (the notorious 3D) you are experiencing the world as *your name* *your lastname*, and your experience is confined by the way that you initially came into the world, being y/n y/ln . The void, originally known as the âI AMâ state is when you leave that experience behind, you leave the physical world behind and become nothing and everything at the exact same time. And doing so you can create and destroy absolutely anything in your experience = your reality which is why people call their destination after the void their âdrâ=âdesired realityâ.
2. Why the void?
This method is seen as very effective and efficient once you know how to do it right because itâs a âmethodâ in which your subconscious mind is in full control, which means you can do absolutely anything and thatâs not some conspiracy or belief, it is a fact that when entering this subconscious-based meditation state that you can do absolutely anything, which is why i said that you have the power to create and destroy anything in the physical plane, altering your experience. You can change your genetics, your family and friends, your wealth, gender, where you live and much more. You can also redesign things, like a country for you to live in, your age, your s/oâs age, your memories and just your life in general. Just one trip to the void and all that you dream of is yours.
The void doesnât have to be pitch black you can design it anyway you like, i see alot of people in my dms and asks, saying that the pitch black scares them, but your void can look anyway you want.
personally iâm not scared but i just wanted my void to look cute so i added pink stars to the pitch black
3. How do i get to the void?
There are many ways to get into the void, you can follow a guided many meditation, you can listen to subliminals or waves, you can simply affirm, you can visualise, or you can simply do none of these and go into the void with just the intent, KNOWING that itâs apart of you. You donât need any method to tap into the void, all you need is yourself and the intent, knowing itâs apart of you and not some magical fairyland. You can enter at anytime of day, because youâre a god and donât need to be confined to âtimeâ. âTimeâ is a malleable concept and iâll be dammed if you guys waste your days because you only believe that you can tap in at night.
4. Problems people have with the void
3 things: wavering, laziness and putting the void on a damn pedestal
a lot of you guys fail to enter the void simply because you try to enter. all the things i have said about the void make it almost impossible to believe, a golden ticket to your dream life with one trip to the void. And because of the fact that we have been conditioned to believe that we have to work for everything we have, this just seems to good to be true. and you see the void as some magical place when itâs YOU, the void is YOU, why do you think you affirm âI Amâ? well itâs because the void is literally the state of you being everything but nothing, it is not a place it is a state, hence the void STATE, the âI Amâ STATE. itâs a meditative state and thatâs it.
When you enter the "I AM" state, why do you affirm phrases like "I am, I am pure consciousness, I am the void, I am unattached to any reality, I am faceless and formless"? It's because these affirmations align you with your divine essence, your true God Self. However, this practice is often short-lived. You enter this state briefly, and when you don't experience any immediate changes or wake up in the same shitty reality, you begin to doubt. You think, "Why hasn't it worked? I must be doing something wrong. I'll try again tonight." This is what wavering looks like. You declare yourself to be in the "I AM" state, but when it doesnât immediately manifest, you believe it hasn't worked and attempt to re-enter it repeatedly. This endless cycle of trying can confuse your subconscious mind. Instead of truly embodying the state, you're constantly oscillating, creating inconsistency and doubt.
STOP TRYING AND START BEING, OR YOU WILL GET NOWHERE
the void is the easiest thing ever and it is owed to you, because it is you
you can literally enter right now and have every single thing youâve ever wanted, with just a meditation state, the void isnât the one with the power itâs you. The void is inside of you and it is lifeless, the only time it gains any power is when YOU step into the equation. As i once said, the void is your bitch not the other way around.
5. Unhealthy relationships
Although the void is one of the best methods i know, i would hate for anyone to accumulate an unhealthy, toxic relationship with the void. The void is as easy as breathing, i know, but it can be alot for some of us to wrap our heads around due to the way we have been conditioned to think (which hurts my heart more than you know). I see people spend months and years trying to get into the void going through an emotionally taxing experience with it. Although i tell people it doesnât matter how much time youâve âwastedâ and not to let that discourage you because you could really enter now if you put your mind to it (no pun intended) , if you know that it has been eating you up trying for the void going around a constant cycle, please take a break or use other methods.
now with that i say go, go and redesign yourself, deconstruct yourself and create the new you, start from scratch and make your dream self, go to the void and get your dream life.
donât try, just be đđ
i really hope you loved this as much as i do, now go get your dream life -salem á„«áĄ
#salemlunaa#shiftblr#permashifting#reality shifting#law of assumption#loa#shifting#success story#void state#the void#void concept#desired reality#respawning#manifesting#manifestation#master manifestor#shifting community#the void state#voidstate#void state tips#shifters
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7 Days (kmg)
Can feelings change in only seven days?
During a seven-day vacation with your friends, you try to get over your feelings for one of them.
Feeling alone, surrounded by people who seem closer to each other than you, you find comfort in the one person that you didnât know before.
pairing: kim mingyu x fem reader - inspired by 7days by (G)-Idle
w.c: 26k
genre: best friend's brother, strangers to lovers, fluff, comfort, smut, angst, | content warnings: ages are not specified but mingyu is mentioned to be a little older (once), some anxiety themes, alcohol consumption, MDNI! protected penetration, exhibitionism (just a lil), fingering, masturbation, cum play, lmk if i miss something important!
remember! this is a fictional work, it doesn't represent how any of the real people mentioned are like in real life!
note: this took so long to finish! i've had a crazy couple of months at uni, but luckily i passed all of my midterms :) i really hope you like this âĄâĄâĄ
ONE WEEK BEFORE
Your eyes focus on the pavement below as you walk, head low and not a single word coming out of your mouth. Your steps and Minghaoâs are coordinated, muscle memory moving them forward through the city. Each block memorized in both of your brains, each closed shop and parked car, the blinking lights and broken pieces of pavement, all so familiar to you yet coated with a nostalgic feel. Youâve walked the same path together countless times before, but tonight thereâs an awkwardness impossible to shake away.
A third body walks by his side. Samiâs fingers are tangled with his with familiarity as they engage in a conversation you choose not to take part in. A question flies your way every few minutes, and you know theyâre trying to include you so you donât feel out of place, but nothing comes to mind besides one-word answers. You laugh every now and then, just so they know youâre at least a little bit engaged.
The pavement changes color under your feet and you know youâre barely minutes away from your home, finally. You like their company, you really do. And you appreciate them walking you to your door this late at night. But their presence can be suffocating.
You canât avoid feeling guilty about your... feelings. She's one of your closest friends yet she never mentioned starting a relationship with the guy you were in love with. If you wouldâve known, you wouldâve never let your feelings progress beyond a tiny crush. You wouldâve never deluded yourself into thinking he may also like you. For the record, you never told her either, but the only friend you trusted with your feelings also failed to mention that detail. You felt betrayed at first, but deep down you always knew they were closer to each other than to you.
Theyâve been together for months now, but even if youâre used to seeing them kiss and hold hands, the awkwardness in your body doesnât care. Every time you see him your hands are going to shake, and you mind will go blank. Inside, you canât help to feel giddy anytime he takes interest in your answers to his questions, and you always feel bad after. So, when they insist that theyâll walk you home, you refuse. Not only you feel awkward around them, but now you have to be the third wheel? You'd rather not. But they donât take a no for an answer, and thus, your current situation.
Your front door appears on your sight, and you feel instant relief. You're quick to bid them goodbye and thank them for keeping you company. Even though you kept saying they could just turn around and youâll be fine many times over the walk, you donât want it to seem like you hate their company. Their presence is not the problem, you are.
As you turn around to open your door, your name is called and youâre instantly facing them again.
âWeâre going to Chanâs grandfatherâs house on the beach next week. You should come!â Sami invites you with a smile on her face. She says it so sweetly you almost donât care that theyâre telling you with such short notice.
âOh! I donât know, I'm kinda behind on some homework for the semester,â itâs not a lie per se, you do have some stuff due after the break, but it can be done in a day. You like your friends, and you always have a good time when youâre all together, but a group of ten people can be overwhelming, âI have to think about it.â
âCâmon itâs spring break! Weâll go to the beach, play card games and get drunk!â Sami tries to convince you again. The fear of missing out on fun times with them starts overpowering your need to run away from your feelings. You think about it for a second too long.
âWe really want you to come, please?â Minghao steps in. His statement sounds so honest as he looks at you directly in the eyes. You fear you will never be able to say no to him.
Your gaze canât stand his for long, his eyes are almost piercing though your soul waiting for an answer. Youâre quick to break eye contact and look at Sami, whoâs waiting for your answer just as expectantly as Minghao. Theyâre still holding hands as they face you, fingers interlocked, like thereâs some external force thatâs keeping them from separating.
What can possibly be worse? Rotting in your bed for a week, thinking about how you could be having more fun away with your friends? Or spend a full week around the man you could never have and his perfect girlfriend? You juggle your options in your head as fast as you can.
âOk Iâll be there.â You end up saying at the sight of their pleading eyes.
âGreat! Iâll text you the details tomorrow, bye!â Sami excitedly replies as they walk away, and the feeling on the pit of your stomach starts to bubble up again. You can just ignore them from time to time. You don't have to spend all 24 hours by their side. Itâs completely fine.
DAY ONE
The week flashes through and, in an instant, youâre already packing for the trip.
Your mind spirals, thinking of excuses to not go, but it stays empty as you zip up your bag, go downstairs, get in a taxi and go to Chanâs place where youâre supposed to meet everyone. It's only a 10-minute ride to his house, but today, it feels like hours. Watching the buildings pass by through the window, the streetlights still on and the sun barely peeking through the horizon, hundreds of thoughts cloud your mind, running through your brain like theyâre on a race, competing on which oneâs can stress you fastest.
But you calm yourself as soon as you see Chan standing on the sidewalk at the distance. He always looks genuinely happy to see you, always inviting you to hang out because he knows youâre not going to do it yourself. He's just so warm and welcoming, always knows how to make you laugh, even on the toughest moments. He's someone you could call a best friend. When he and Jihyun started dating, it made sense. Sheâs someone who, in the best way possible, never shuts up. He lets her talk and watches her with glossy eyes, as if what she was saying was the most interesting thing heâs ever heard. In a way, you shouldâve known they wouldâve been perfect together, but you were too caught up in your own feelings and didnât notice your two best friends liked each other. Maybe thatâs why she confided in Sami instead.
A bear hug welcomes you as soon as you get out of the taxi. Your bag drops on top of your feet as you hug Chan back, squeezing him like you havenât seen him in ages. You have about three seconds of peace until you have to speak up.
âMy bagâs crushing my feet.â You giggle with your mouth right beside Chanâs ear, so he hears you perfectly and laughs with you. He moves down to pick it up himself but is shocked by the weight.
âDid you bring your fucking desk? Why is this so heavy?â
âHey! I just brought the essentials.â You did in fact only bring essentials, besides plenty of clothes, a lot of underwear just in case, your skincare, a hair drier and a few towels. Years of vacations going wrong taught you that those things can really make the difference.
âIt's only a week...â
âA girl always has to be prepared.â You reply mysteriously as you walk away from him and into his house, forcing him to carry your bag inside for you. He follows right behind you, and when you cross the door, another voice welcomes you.
âSheâs right you know,â Jihyun tells Chan while hugging you, âlast month you forgot the toothpaste when we went to the lake! If I hadn't brought my travel bag you would have yellow teeth right now.â Chan huffs but doesnât argue with her, he just smiles and gives her a peck.
Sami and Minghao are talking in the kitchen, so you only wave at them. Her shiny long black hair is tied up in two buns, and it contrasts perfectly with his disheveled light brown hair. Gyuri, Vernon and Jeonghan are playing some card game on the coffee table, you could hear her screams from the door, he probably cheated, and she only realized after losing. Miyoo looks at them, with a bored expression that doesnât change as she sees you walk in.
After saying hi to everyone, you notice your bag already beside a couch, so you sit there. Looking around, you realize youâre the last one to arrive, as all your friends are already here. Right as your about to question what you were waiting for; Chan speaks up again.
âOk so, Joshua told me yesterday that he couldnât come, his shitty job didnât give him the days off,â everyone collectively âoohsâ at the news, âand I know we had planned the budget with all ten of us,â He gets interrupted again as Vernon walks out of the bathroom and sits beside him, âso I⊠invited my big brother. I hope youâre all cool with that Iâm sorry I didnât ask you before it was just so sudden, you all know him heâs chill, and he wonât-"
âItâs ok bro we donât mind.â Minghao steps in to calm Chan down. Everyone agrees with him instantly and he visibly calms down. It seems everyone has already met Chanâs brother, besides you.
Youâve been to Chanâs house a fair share of times, but almost always his family wasnât home, and if they were they just kept to their own and let you hang out. And you know your friends sometimes hang out without you, you donât mind, so they probably are more familiar with Chanâs family than you are. A new addition to the trip doesnât bother you, youâre probably not gonna talk to him much anyway. Youâre usually very quiet around your friends, especially when all of them are around. So, itâs not going to be different this time.
âGreat! Then we can start heading our way then.â Everyone stands up and grab their bags simultaneously at his words, eager to finally start the trip.
âYou said then two times babe.â You hear Jihyun joke as you head out.
âI know I was nervous ok." Chan laughs with her.
The sun is already out by the time everyone is out the door. Orange rays enlighten the world and blind you lightly if you stare at the fiery sun for too long. Itâs a beautiful sight for a long road trip.
You squint, trying to gain your sight back, and the first thing your eyes land on is a truck youâve never seen before, and a hilariously tall muscular man standing against it. Just when you think you mightâve seen him before, Chan walks over to him and hugs him.
âOh right, this is my brother,â Chan turns around and speaks directly to you, âI donât think youâve met him yet.â
âOur budget savior!â you cheer before directing to his brother, âHi! I'm Y/N.â Your right hand moves forward to shake his awkwardly.
âIâm Mingyu,â He chuckles lightly at your cheer and shakes your hand back. A tiny, almost unnoticeable, electric current runs through you at the touch, alerting all of your senses. Fortunately, he doesnât notice because heâs looking at your bag in your other hand and then back up to your eyes, âare you riding with us?â
âOh! I donât know,â the question startles you, and you look at Chan panicking a little inside, âif you guys donât mind!â
âI donât mind, câmon,â Mingyu cuts Chan before he can reply, takes your bag out of your hand to put it in the trunk and you follow him back. You take the chance to look back at the other cars, Samiâs already behind the wheel of one of them while Minghao puts Gyuriâs and Miyooâs bags in their trunk, and Vernon and Jeonghan are already sitting inside the other car, waiting. Your body relaxes, riding with Jihyun, Chan and his brother might be the best option. Itâs not that you donât like the others, but youâre quite sure Miyoo just doesnât like you, and youâre not close enough with neither Jeonghan nor Vernon to be in a closed space together for six hours.
While Mingyu makes space for your bag in the trunk, your eyes canât help to scan him up and down. If you thought Chan was buff, nothing couldâve prepared you for his brother. As he moves the heavy bags to accommodate yours, you think his arms are probably double the size as yours, if not more.
âIs this your car?â He finishes placing everything and you ask him something before he can catch you staring.
âItâs our dadâs but I use it more often than him nowadays,â he closes the trunk and finally turns to look at you, âyou wanna take the shotgun seat? I donât want to listen to my brotherâs playlist again, I used to like it but now Iâm kinda tired of it.â
It takes your brain a second to register what heâs asking you, âitâs fine by me,â you reply in a chuckle and you both start walking to the front of the car, âbut I donât think youâre gonna like my music better, I exclusively only listen to Taylor Swift.â
You hear a gasp coming from him and turn your head aside to find him with his hand on his chest, dramatically looking at you with a shocked face, âhow could think that? Can a man not like Taylor Swift?â Your attempts to hold your laugh fail and the back on your hand flies to hit him lightly on the arm.
âIâm not judging you! It was mostly a warning that youâre not gonna hear much diversity in artists.â
âIt really is fine by me, I like a few of her tunes by the way.â
âAs you should!â
In a few steps, you stop right beside the passenger's door. Mingyuâs about to open the door for you when you hear Chan complaining behind you.
âHey! I thought I was riding shotgun!â
âSorry! It seems your brother likes me better already!â
âHow could you!â He crosses his arms feigning annoyance and you and Mingyu chuckle at him, your gazes crossing for a second. You sit down, ignoring Chanâs fake complaints, Mingyu closes the door for you and circles around the front of the car to his seat.
After four hours into the ride, two bathroom stops, tons of singing and shouting to Taylor Swift's hits and Mingyu surprisingly knowing all the lyrics to Anti-Hero, the car sits in a comfortable silence. Chan fell asleep almost half an hour ago, thatâs when the karaoke sessions stopped, Jihyunâs reading some book on her phone, Mingyuâs focused on the road and youâre admiring the view. The smell of wet grass from the dew envelopes the car, the wind ruffles your hair harshly, but you donât care, and every now and then youâll pass through a farm, and youâll see the animals from far away.
Conversation strikes up again when Chan wakes up after a loud gasp Jihyun let out because of her book. The car becomes alive with laugher, telling funny stories from high school to Mingyu, and Chanâs complains about how youâre spilling too many secrets to his brother.
Jihyun starts telling a story you heard a million times, so you tune out and take the chance to take a proper look at Mingyu. His eyes are focused on the road, but heâs paying special attention to whatâs being told to him, reacting at every detail and asking questions every now and then. His tan skin glows thanks to the morning sun, you can see a tiny glint in his eyes and how his nose scrunches when he giggles, but what catches your attention the most are his moles, highlighted by the sunlight, there are a few sprinkled on his cheeks and an especially cute one on the tip of his nose. It's undeniable that Mingyu is very handsome, and polite, and funny, and hot, and if you werenât so stuck in your feelings, you know youâd probably crush on him for the whole trip.
How come youâve never noticed him before? Youâre sure he mustâve been at Chanâs house at the same time as you at least a couple of times, but you donât remember ever saying hi to him. You think youâd remember him.
Chan and Mingyuâs grandparentâs house is huge. Itâs probably more of a mansion than a house. Each of you have your separate individual rooms, and the two couples get the two big rooms. The entrance has a shoe rack that can fit almost twenty pairs of shoes, the kitchen has two ovens and the biggest island youâve ever seen (and probably ever see) and the living room has couches so big that you could take a nap, and everyone would still be able to sit comfortably. Right by the living room thereâs a door to a small back porch that goes straight to the beach. Itâs peaceful and beautiful and you wish you could stay here more time.
After snooping around the house, you finally go to your bedroom, thatâs luckily on the first floor, and settle your stuff down. The room is almost as big as your own living room. Thereâs even a desk where you can put your laptop and a few drawers for your clothes, but what takes the cake is the on-suite bathroom that has a full-length mirror and a bathtub as big as the bed.
You mustâve been exhausted because as soon as you lay in bed you fall asleep.
When you wake up, the sun is starting to set and the smell of something being cooked fills your nostrils. Three soft knocks at your door wake you out of your trance, and the mysterious person opens your door just barely enough.
âHey,â Jihyun whispers, her head peeking inside, âwe're setting up the table for dinner.â
âIâll be right out.â You half moan half whisper in your sleepy voice.
Itâs kind of funny in a way. When you go out of your room after a nap that was definitely too long, the door of the room right in front opens at the same time, revealing a just woken up Mingyu. Itâs funny, that you both, being the ones less close with the rest of the group, end up together in this side of the house, the only rooms on this corridor, while the other two rooms downstairs are across the house and the rest are upstairs.
âYou took a nap too?â You ask Mingyu as you walk towards the dining room side by side.
âIs it that obvious?â His voice is still raspy.
âNot at all, if we donât take in account the messy hair or that your shirt is inside out.â You joke, still a little sleepy.
âOh shit.â The innocent conversation completely shifts when he stops in his tracks, takes his shirt off to and puts it back the right way. Youâre frozen in place, now fully awake. You obviously could tell he was big and buff, but seeing him shirtless, even if it was just for a second, is completely different territory. He pays no mind to you and keeps walking.
A group of voices coming from the dining room take you out of your trance and remind you what you were doing. âI need a drink.â
DAY TWO
Youâre not sure what you did yesterday after dinner. One drink turned into shots with Jihyun, and then everyone was drunk, playing some stupid drinking card game. That memory is already blurry, but after that is just a void.
As soon as you open your eyes, you regret it. The sun beams brightly directly to your face, increasing the feeling of someone drilling into your skull. Itâs your first full day on the beach house and youâre completely wrecked.
The only thing you want to do right now is take a pill for your headache and have a fulfilling breakfast.
Thereâs complete silence around the house, only the birds chirping and the waves crashing accompany you as you walk to the kitchen. Most probably everyone's in the same state as you but opting to stay in bed to sleep the hangover off.
âOh hi, I didnât think anyone was awake.â You really donât mean to be mean, but Mingyuâs presence startles you. You were yearning for some alone time in the morning, peaceful and quiet, at least until the others wake up.
âGood morning, yeah I just woke up,â his drowsy voice confirms it, âI don't think anyone else is awake tho.â You only hum in response, noting that you both are too sleepy to engage is small talk.
Mingyuâs company proves not to be dreadful like you thought. Both of you mind your own business, sitting down eating breakfast and killing time with your phones in comfortable silence. Itâs nice, the atmosphere isnât awkward and there are no expectations from either of you, only two people starting the day at the same time.
âYou and Jihyun seem close,â Mingyu breaks the silence and looks at you after putting his phone down.
âSheâs one of my best friends,â itâs your turn to put your phone down to look at him, âshe and Chan were the ones who introduced me to the rest of the group actually.â
âYeah? How did you guys meet?â
âItâs kind of a long story,â You sound dismissive even if you donât want to, Mingyu doesnât strike you as someone who cares about high-school drama and you donât want to bore him to death, âjust high-school stuff.â
âWell now Iâm curious,â He fixes his posture to face you properly, âIâm listening, câmon we have all morning.â
âOkay,â you chuckle at how eager he suddenly sounds, âbasically, I moved cities right before senior year and she was my first friend in my new high school. I also met Chan on my first day since he gave me the tour.â You stand up to grab both of your cups, he notices and moves his hand to give you his cup himself. His hand barely grazes yours, but the touch is electrifying. Panicked, you move away quickly, put the cups in the sink and keep going with the story.
âMe, Jihyun and three other girls formed a group, we were all best friends and would always hang out together, but it didnât last long. Long story short, Jihyun and one of the girls had a big fight and she kinda left the group, became friends with Minghao and Chan and cut her relationship with the rest of the girls. I was the only one still talking to her, and yeah, the group started crumbling.â
âThis is very high school.â Mingyu jokes and you agree.
âI told you! But it gets worse. So, this girl Hyerim, the girl Jihyun fought with, didnât like that I was still talking to Jihyun and would always turn around at the sight of her. Just childish behavior that eventually started pissing me off, because every time she saw me talking with anyone even remotely close with Jihyun, she would get mad at me. Itâs stupid I know, we were 18, and I just I thought those kinds of fights only happen in middle school, but I guess I was wrong.â
âOh my god, are we talking about Hyerim?â Jihyun suddenly enters the kitchen, clearly just woken up.
âMingyu wanted to know our story,â you chuckle at her disgusted face and joke, âour favorite topic.â
âShe sounds very immature,â Mingyu adds to your joke, not very interested in dissing some girl he doesnât know, just adding to the teasing.
âShe was a controlling bitch you couldnât fathom her friends having other friendships beside her, she wanted followers, not friends.â Jihyun canât help to get angry for a moment, so you intervene.
âYeah well, luckily I escaped her claws and you and Chan adopted me, like a stray kitten,â Your arms wrap around her shoulders, and you give her a peck on the cheek, âmy saviors!â
âI think Iâm gonna go back to bed, my headâs killing me.â Jihyun whispers while patting your hip and starts walking away from the kitchen, âbye guys, really nice chat.â Her sarcastic tone impossible to miss.
âWe donât really talk about it much; we can get really pissed.â Your eyes are back to Mingyu, whoâs gaze never left your figure.
âI get it tho, it sounds like a really shitty situation,â weirdly enough and even if he didnât intend to, he comforts you. Mingyu doesnât make you feel stupid for still having feelings about a fight that took place years ago.
After a while, more people wake up and a plan is made to go to a hiking spot Gyuri found close to the house. But all morning and even during the afternoon, all you can think about is how youâve spoken more words to Mingyu at breakfast than to all your friends in two days. How comfortable you felt alone with him, no expectations, no need to pretend to be someone youâre not, in that moment, you were just you.
âAnd then he pooped! On the balcony floor!â
âNo way! Thatâs disgusting!â
The bottle that was full an hour ago passes from Mingyuâs hand to yours, with now less than a third of the liquid left.
Avoiding Minghao proves not to be as hard as you thought, people have been sticking to their own plans during the day, everyone only being together at dinnertime and after.
Loud voices can be heard from the living room, they found a board game and made it into a drinking game; and theyâve been playing for over an hour, all while you were with Mingyu in the kitchen. Youâre both sitting on the floor with your backs against the island, facing the couches where everyone else is sitting, but neither of you make any attempt to join them. Some come and go, enter the kitchen to grab a drink and go back to the living room. Chan even told the both of you to join them, but you refused at the same time. The minutes go by without realizing, just talking about whatever, and you donât feel the need to go where everyone is, youâre not missing out on anything.
âThereâs no way that actually happened!â The words barely get out of you, between the laughs and the bottle on your lips.
âI got pics let me-â Mingyuâs hand heads for his front pocket to retrieve his phone.
âNo!â You push him lightly to the side and you both break into laughter, âwhy would you take photos of that?â Itâs a genuine question to ask, but it seems that youâre both a little too drunk to focus on more than one thing at a time because he doesnât hear you.
âWhy canât I find them?â Heâs looking through his gallery, and in your drunk haze, you donât think your actions through. You put the bottle on the floor and throw yourself over him to take his phone away from his hand. Your arm stretches as far as possible to reach for Mingyuâs cellphone while the other is placed on Mingyuâs thigh for support, and you donât notice how dangerously close your head is to his, or how your hand is dangerously high on his thigh, but he does. You put all your core strength to use and manage to snatch his phone right out of his left hand. For a second, your surroundings become blurry, the voices are no longer background noise, itâs just you and Mingyu when you look up and his eyes on yours, faces barely inches away. You stare at each other, without blinking and with your breaths synchronized for what feels like minutes. A little smirk forms on the corner of his lips when his eyes glance at your lips for a millisecond, and you canât take it.
âI canât believe you have pics of a stranger's poop on your phone.â You chuckle awkwardly as you back away from him and sit on your previous position, a little sobered up. His phone is left on top of his leg, where your hand previously was.
âI didnât actually take them, it was my friend that sent them to the group chat, if that makes it any better,â you look at each other before erupting into laughter once again, the awkward atmosphere already gone.
âIt doesnât!â You try to focus on your friends and the game theyâre playing while Mingyu takes another sip from the bottle. There's silence between you for the first time in hours, the only thing you feel is his body close to yours. Your knee sits on top of his and youâre afraid that if you dare to move, heâll realize your closeness and move away. You've known this man for two days, an objectively short amount of time to be so comfortable getting into the otherâs personal space, but it doesnât feel awkward.
âDo you think theyâll notice if we casually left to go to sleep?â His voice reaches your ears, not letting the silence get between you two and overpowering the shouting coming from the living room.
âI donât think so,â You look at your friends carefully. There doesnât seem to be a piece missing in the group, nothing changes without you there, even if they all like you and you like them, thereâs not much to add, âmaybe Chan will notice if you disappear suddenly, he keeps looking over.â
âJihyun looks this way every now and then to look for you too.â
âTheyâre a very caring couple.â Just that second, both Chan and Jihyun look back to the kitchen and see you sitting on the floor, and you both crack up laughing.
You rest your head back against the island and your eyelids feel heavy. You try to fight the urge to close them, you donât want the night to be over yet, but itâs pointless. Your eyes close almost on its own and your head falls softly to the side, against Mingyuâs shoulder.
A soft smile appears on Mingyuâs face when he feels you rest on him. Warm and giddy, heâs careful not to move much as to not wake you up, but your heavy sighs signal him that youâre fast asleep. He stays that way, watching the others play while youâre resting for a few minutes. When you move slightly in your sleep to get more comfortable his breath hitches for a second, he doesnât really want you to wake up.
Awfully, when everyone gets tired and cleans up the living room, itâs time for the house to sleep. They notice you asleep on Mingyuâs shoulder, a few knowing looks come your way, but most importantly, Chanâs worried look alerts Mingyu. He assures Chan that youâre okay, just tired, and tells him to go to sleep, that heâll help you to your room.
DAY THREE
Second day in a row where you wake up feeling like the weight of the whole world is sitting on your forehead.
With your eyes still closed, you stretch your arm to the side you think you remember putting your phone at. Somehow you actually find it there and grab it to check the time, but soft knocks on your door interrupt you.
âIâm awake!â Even talking feels painful.
The door opens slightly, revealing a freshly showered Mingyu with his hair still damp and his skin shiny from the morning skincare.
âCan I come in?â Itâs cute how he whispers. He most likely knows your head's killing you. Your nod gives him the okay and he comes in, like your knight in shiny armor, with an ibuprofen a glass full of cold water.
You sit up when he sinks down beside you after placing the glass and the pill on the nightstand. The warmth of his body beside yours gives you flashbacks of the night before and remind you how you fell asleep on him.
âOh my god,â embarrassed, you cover your face with your hands, âIâm so sorry for yesterday, I swear Iâm never drinking again.â
âIt's okay,â Mingyu chuckles, âyou didnât bother me.â
âReally?â You move your fingers enough to uncover your eyes and side eye him, âyou donât have to lie.â
âIâm serious!â With one hand, Mingyu removes yours from your face so that you look at him properly, âwe were both pretty drunk and having fun, I didnât mind.â
âYou look too good for someone who was drunk last night.â He doesnât even have noticeable eye bags, while youâre probably as pale as a zombie and look like you slept only one hour. A smirk slowly forms on his face at your words.
âYou think I look good?â He teases and makes you realize what you said exactly, but youâre not giving in that easily. Even if the blush fights to get on your cheeks and your stomach starts filling with butterflies, even if your mind questions the reasons for his teasing and your eyes linger for a second too long on his smirk.
âFor someone who got shitfaced 8 hours ago, sure.â You avoid his gaze and focus on the glass on the nightstand. You forgot it was there.
Your attention is now on hydrating and taking the ibuprofen pill, but you hear him chuckle again and stop drinking, âWhat?â
âNothing.â His lips form a quivering line, and you know heâs fighting for his life not to laugh. âWeâre all going to the beach later,â he gets up quickly, a light chuckle escaping at your questioning face, âyou better not be hangover by then!â
âYouâre not funny!â You shout at him as he leaves your room.
You smile as you finish the glass of water. You really try not to ponder about why that interaction left you so giddy, why remembering his smirk makes you all mushy inside, why your stomach contracts thinking about him caring enough to bring you something for your hangover.
When you decide the leftovers of the alcohol left your system for good, you change into your bikini, grab your beach towel and head to the backyard beach to join the rest of the guys.
At first, you join the girls sunbathing, snacking and chatting calmly. There's no sight of the guys, probably doing their own thing, guy stuff. The time passes quickly, talking about university and gossiping about each other's coworkers, and its already past lunch time. You almost donât think about the night before, falling asleep on Mingyuâs shoulder and how he seemed okay with it.
It's nice spending time with the girls, even if you donât talk much around them, theyâre funny and you end up cackling and falling onto the sand multiple times.
Youâve done a good job staying away from Minghao these past two days, but thereâs so much you can do before you have to face him again. And it seems that the universe thinks youâve reached your limit.
A shirtless Minghao, wet from swimming in the sea, comes running your way, says good morning to you and asks how you woke up so nonchalantly, like his whole presence isn't messing up your whole nervous system. He never noticed and heâll probably never know just how much he affected you. Now, for you, itâs just awkward. Remnants of your feelings still float around, making you feel guilty anytime youâll see him and Sami acting all coupley, like right now. After saying hi to you, Sami got up and jumped to hug and kiss him, making it almost impossible for you to ignore, but your gaze doesnât fix on them for too long.
Behind them, Vernon and Mingyu are setting up to play beach volleyball. It's only a few meters away, not enough to see a lot of details but enough to leave you breathless. Since the morning, even if you wonât admit it, all you wanted was to see him again, but you hadnât thought about the fact that you were at the beach, with warm temperatures and the sun shining brightly. Your stomach is doing backflips seeing his defined bare back as heâs setting up the net, a pretty mundane task, but something about how concentrated he is, in addition to the way his muscles tense, is driving you crazy inside. Maybe it wouldnât be so bad if you had a fleeting crush on him for the time being, itâs not like youâre gonna see him much after anyways
Sometime during your haze, Jeonghan came up to ask if any of you girls wanted to play, you were too gone to answer, but Miyoo happily went along, and now theyâre playing what seems like a friendly volleyball match, but you know itâs going to get competitive in no time. Minghao, Chan and Mingyu against Jeonghan, Vernon and Miyoo, itâs gonna get ugly.
Gyuri, Sami and Jihyun keep talking beside you, but you concentrate on the match, or you at least try to. You really try to, itâs just, heâs very distracting. The ball passes from one court to another swiftly, when one team scores, they make fun of the other and vice versa. The ball goes particularly far into Chanâs teamâs court and Mingyu runs to get it, having to fall onto the sand to hit the ball from below, and it works, Minghao manages to throw it to the other teamâs court, and they score.
You always thought people playing sports were as hot as they could possibly get, thatâs probably why youâre basically drooling over Mingyu like heâs a full course meal and you havenât had anything to eat in weeks.
Jihyun distracts you from your train of thought to tell you that her, Sami and Gyuri are going back inside to do something you don't get to hear. You're still a little in your head and only hum in response. Youâre left alone with your thoughts. Your eyes donât want to leave his figure, until his team ultimately wins the match thanks to points that he managed to score, and he glances at you, catching you staring, and smirks. That damn fucking smirk itâs gonna get you in trouble.
You lay down on your towel, if your eyes are not on him maybe you can get over it. Out of sight out of mind, as they say. But the peace is short-lived.
A few steps get close to you, getting sand all over your body and now a shadow blocks the sun. You open your eyes reluctantly, and you wish you never opened them in the first place.
The light is blinding, but not as much as the sight of Mingyu with his black swim shorts, sun-kissed skin, glistening from the sweat, and panting. Itâs too much for you. Your eyes close instinctively and you act as if he didnât disrupt your peace. You hear that damn chuckle, and he sprinkles more sand on you.
âYouâre really annoying did you know that?â You intend to sound serious, but heâs caught up with your antics by now and just chuckles.
âOnly when Iâm trying to get someoneâs attention.â You take a breath to try and gather strength to not jump him right there and open your eyes as you sit up. He's quick to motion with his hands for you to scoot so he can sit beside you. You roll your eyes sarcastically, but still move to the side.
âHow was the game?â The way heâs sitting, propped down on his elbows, tenses his biceps perfectly, almost like heâs doing it on purpose, so you try to focus on his face as he answers your question.
âThey had nothing on us,â he says smugly while looking at the loser team undo the volleyball net, âbut you saw that, so why are you asking?â
âWhat I saw was you struggling until the very end,â his teasing doesnât get you this time, on the outside at least, because your mind is still a mess, âgood thing you managed to pull through tho!â
He nods sarcastically at your response, but something else catches his attention before he can continue teasing, âWhatâs their deal? Are they together?â You follow his eyes to see who heâs referring to: Vernon is running away from Miyoo whoâs chasing him with one of her flip flops on her hand and shouting something along the lines of âdonât run away you cowardâ. Theyâre both laughing and youâre also used to it, you know their fights are not that serious.
âVernon and Miyoo?â The hysterical laugh comes out of you before youâre able to stop it, âin Vernonâs dreams sure.â You joke but you can tell heâs seriously asking.
âNah I think she likes him too.â Mingyu lays down after his statement, with his hands behind his head, and closes his eyes to enjoy the last rays of sunshine of the day.
âAre they that obvious? Youâve been with them for three days and you already noticed,â to you it was always obvious Vernon had a thing for Miyoo since Sami first introduced her to the group, but itâs funny that someone who doesnât really know them also noticed.
âItâs always more obvious from the outside.â His answer catches you off guard. You only hum in response and he doesnât press more on the subject. It leaves you thinking, were you that obvious when you liked Minghao? There were times when you felt Sami knew, but she never asked you about it, and since she and Minghao started dating you never felt those weird vibes again.
Mingyu yawns at your side and gets up, distracting you from your train of thought.
Itâs beginning to get dark, bringing the temperatures down a bit, and the sunset paints the sky with a beautiful mix of oranges and pinks. It looks like a painting youâd see in an overpaid museum, and it would make that price totally worth it.
It seems youâre not the only one who noticed the pretty twilight sky, because Mingyu runs inside the house and comes back after a few minutes with a digital camera and wearing a black jacket for the cold. He walks around taking pictures of different sides of the sky, with different clouds and color patterns.
âIs that camera yours?â You prop down on your elbows to admire the sky and him, and you hear a light hum coming from him as an answer, âDidnât know you were into photography.â
âI wouldnât say I'm into photography, I just like taking pictures of what I find pretty,â once heâs done taking pictures of the sky, he returns to his place beside you, âone of these days I want to wake up before the sun rises and just sit here, watching the stars disappear as the sun gets higher and higher.â
âItâll probably be really peaceful,â even if youâre alone at the beach now, you can still hear people talking from inside the house, probably deciding what to have for dinner. You imagine sitting on the quiet beach at 6 am, the only sound being the crashing waves and a few morning birds, the sky beginning to light up as the sun slowly rises and the morning wind ruffling your hair. âBut the first step is to not get wasted the night before.â
âOr we could just stay awake and go to sleep after.â
âWe? Who says I'm doing it with you?â You joke, of course youâll accompany him if he asked.
A sudden cold wind makes you shiver and Mingyu notices, so he takes his jacket off and gestures for you to take it. You take it silently without much resistance and notice he also put on a sleeveless t-shirt before. The jacket looks giant on you when you put it on. You zip it up, so the cold doesnât make its way inside, and youâre embraced by his scent in no time. You smile at him, and he returns it before answering your previous question.
âIâd just annoy you until youâre awake and youâd have no choice other than to come with me.â You chuckle at his response; you wish you could see what happens inside his mind.
âAnd I'd punch you for interrupting my holy sleep time.â Youâre still laughing when you see a flash from the corner of your eye, âdid you just take a picture of me?â Mingyu shrugs with an amused look on his face and waits for the picture to load, âI probably look disgusting! Let me see.â You try and stretch to take a glance at his camera roll, but he turns it off before you can see anything.
âWhy would you look disgusting?â
âI donât know,â he has some kind of power to always surprise you with what he says, âI've been out here all day, I didnât get the chance to check myself on the mirror.â
âI told you I only take photos of pretty things.â This time you canât hide the blush that creeps up to your cheeks at his words. No one ever complimented you so directly, and itâs not like youâre new to flirting, but youâve never quite felt like this. Maybe itâs because everything around you feels so dull, except for when youâre with him. When youâre around anyone else, you never feel the need to speak up, afraid theyâll donât care or just straight up ignore you, but these past few days, when you spoke to him, you felt like he wouldnât judge you, he paid attention, joked with you, and even chose to spend time with you when he couldâve been with anyone else. He's just easy to be with. It's tempting to want to spend every day with him, but also terrifying, because everything could change after the trip is over.
âThen let me see?â You try your luck one more time to see the pic, also to try and turn the conversation another way so he doesnât catch on to the effect he has on you, although itâs already too late.
âDonât you trust me?â He looks at you with puppy eyes and a pout that could make anyone melt in an instant.
âStop doing that!â You hit him lightly on his left arm.
âDoing what?â He replies, feigning innocence.
âYou know what youâre doing.â Your look is serious, but he's amused by your reaction.
âAnd I think itâs working.â His eyes donât leave yours, starting a staring contest between the two. None of you want to give up, raising your eyebrows to tease the other and titling your head to the side, but you donât bulge and neither does he. You try to figure out the workings of his brain, if he feels the same things you do. You embarrassingly want to think that he does.
âCan I-â
âGuys!â Samiâs voice interrupts you and both you and Mingyu stop staring at each other to look at her, âDinner is ready! Come inside!â
Only at her words do you realize the sun already fully set and the sky is painted a dark blue color, with the only thing visible being the moon and a few stars.
âW-we should get back inside.â You look back at Mingyu to find him already staring at you.
âWhat were you gonna say?â He stops you before you can get any farther.
âOh, itâs nothing, câmon theyâre waiting for us.â
DAY FOUR
âAnd then she ghosted me! The nerve!â Gyuri finishes telling her story about a girl she hooked up with last month.
âBut didnât you just say you didnât really wanna be with her? I donât get it.â Jihyun asks what all of you were thinking.
âYeah, but like, I donât want to be the ghosted one!â You, Sami and Jihyun burst into laughter at her words.
You and the girls are sitting on the living room while the guys and Miyoo are outside playing a rematch from yesterdayâs game of beach volleyball. As soon as everyone finished eating dinner, Miyoo demanded a rematch and everyone, with their competitive souls, agreed immediately. Itâs already dark outside, but with the back lights on itâs possible to play, at least for a while before your eyes get tired.
The four of you ended up sitting around the coffee table, talking about relationship drama or just telling funny stories. You donât have much to add to the conversation, so you just say a comment or joke from time to time and give your opinion when asked. Thatâs until youâre given the spotlight.
âSo, Y/N,â Gyuri catches you off guard and you look at her confused, âwhatâs up with you and Mingyu?â
âThatâs right! I see you together a lot these days,â Sami adds excitedly. Three pairs of eyes are now watching you closely, curious for your answer.
âOh nothingâŠI donât know.â You shy away when a little smile cracks at your lips, hugging your knees close as you glance at the beach to see if you can spot Mingyu, but all you see is a blur due to the poor lighting, âwe just happen to end up together a lot I think.â It is partially true because itâs not like you actively searched for him.
âCâmon! Donât you think heâs hot?â Gyuriâs so forward she just makes you laugh, âIf I wasnât a lesbian lemme tell you, the things I would do.â
âGyuri oh my god! He's right there, have some decency,â Sami brings her back to earth.
âRight, sorry sorry,â she apologizes and takes a sip of her beer before speaking to you again, âbut really, you should do something!â
âLike what? I donât know guys maybe heâs not interested.â Do you want him to be?
âI saw you two at the beach yesterday and trust me, he is.â Sami puts her hand on your shoulder to make you look at her and tries to encourage you, with no bad intentions whatsoever, she just wants to see you happy, you know that.
His words from the night before echo in your head, âitâs always more obvious from the outside', but you donât really want to talk about it out loud, afraid youâll jinx it. Jihyun throws you a knowing look and opens her mouth, but she gets interrupted before she can outer a word.
âGuys! Guess what-â Chan suddenly enters the house and the four of you shut up instantly, guilty look on your faces, âWow what were you talking about? Am I not allowed to hear it?â
âItâs girl stuff!â Jihyun doesnât hide that he is in fact, not allowed to hear your conversation, and throws a pillow his way, but he doesn't budge, âWhat do you want?â
âWhat I was going to say was... we beat them!â You chuckle and the four of you applaud lightly.
âThatâs great babe!â
âYou shouldâve seen them when we-â Chan comes inside to show off their win when gets interrupted by a sudden darkness. The power went out, and everything and everyone sits in silence for about two seconds before Jeonghan comes in.
âHow does everyone feel about turning on the fireplace?â
Lighting the fireplace on turned out to be a great idea. Itâs been hours and the power is still out. All ten of you are sitting on the couches and on the floor, surrounding the only source of light and warmth, and drinking the beer thatâs left from the previous days before it loses its gas.
Itâs warm and cozy, and everyone is engaged in different conversations with the people by their side. You listen as Jeonghan talks about his new job at a museum, trying to pay attention, but itâs really difficult when, from the corner of your eye, you can see Mingyu and Minghao talking comfortably. Itâs weird, seeing the guy that caused you so many emotional breakdowns over the past year talking with the only guy who was able to make you forget about it. Even if every day that passes you feel yourself getting more and more over him, thereâs this little voice on the back of your brain reminding you how you stupidly thought you mightâve had a chance with him.
Someone by your side shifts and you see Jeonghanâs expression change before he exclaims, âNo touchy coupley things when weâre all around!â Everyoneâs eyes are now on the couple behind you. Jihyun just sat on Chanâs legs and they're just hugging, but Jeonghanâs low-key right, most of you are single and it looks like they're rubbing it on your faces (even if itâs not what they want).
âYouâre just jealous because youâre lonely and sad,â Jihyun rebuttals and everyone huffs. Itâs normal for them to bicker like this so you just watch like itâs a comedy show.
âIâm single by choice, Iâm not letting anyone tie me down.â Jeonghan replies proudly.
âDidnât you go out with that girl for the whole winter? What was her name... Miyeon? Or what about Seungcheol last year?â
âWell, Iâm all free now soâ
âThen donât come to me asking for tips on what to say to girls ever again,â this is the kind of burn that makes Gyuri start clapping like crazy.
âIâm sure everyone gets what I mean,â Jeonghan looks around, checking to see if anyone agrees with him. Even if it's quite dark, you can see a few heads nod in agreement, including yours.
âOh câmon! Doesnât anyone here like someone?â Now Jihyun is the one looking for backup, but itâs something harder to admit, âif you like someone, then you know you want to be close to them, to touch them!â She makes eye contact with you, knowing you do understand her, because she was the only one you told about Minghao, because you used to tell her everything.
âNo one?â She asks again, looking at everyone one by one, but no one comes forward. And she lastly looks at you again. You shake your head as panic starts invading you, fearing everyone will notice why you, what she means. You make eye contact with her probably for less than a second, but it feels like your whole life passes in front of your eyes.
âOk, fair enough.â The tense climate stills the air, because even if Jihyun agreed to minimize the public displays of affection, her speech got to some of you, and it takes a few minutes for everything to go back to normal.
But youâre still anxious. You never discussed what happened with Minghao after you found out he was seeing Sami, you couldnât. Her indirectly letting you know she remembers makes you feel seen, exposed, bare, like she just disclosed your deepest secret to the whole world, like everyone now knows the most pathetic thing about you.
Eventually the atmosphere starts getting full of laughs and different voices again, but youâre still in your head, so much so that you almost donât notice the power is back on.
As everyone is celebrating, you get up and announce quietly that youâre going to call it a night. Throwing some lame excuse, but no one really bats an eye, they just say goodnight and go back to their conversations. Everyone except for one person.
Mingyu, whoâs been keeping an eye on you the whole night, and whoâs already accustomed to your shyness, noticed that you got more reserved after Jihyunâs speech, but didnât want to ask you anything that would make you uncomfortable in front on everyone. So, when you rapidly escape to go back to your room, he takes the opportunity to leave as well, putting the same excuse you did about being tired and not wanting to wake up super hangover again.
As youâre in tucked in bed, about to burst out crying in any second, Mingyu knocks softly on your door.
You donât answer, staying as still as possible, trying to stop your sobs so nothing can be heard from outside. Itâs been a few minutes since you left, so maybe itâs believable that youâre already asleep.
âAre you alright?â Hearing Mingyuâs voice shatters you and the tears and sobs become impossible to stop.
âYeah, everythingâs fine!â You wouldnât believe you if you were him.
âYouâre not fine.â He sounds actually worried
âHow would you know? Just leave me alone!â Your voice breaks at the last words, telling Mingyu everything he needs to know
âI canât just leave if I know youâre crying."
âYes, you can! Just go!"
âYouâre not getting rid of me that easily.â A playful tone mixes in his voice, âYou can talk to me.â You know, but this is different. This is exposing something to him that makes you feel pathetic, idiotic, and it's much more than you ever told anyone
Thereâs silence while you consider letting him in. Heâs not a stranger but heâs oblivious enough to the situation that he wouldnât care about the drama, maybe you can trust him not to tell anyone. He cared enough to come and check on you, itâs way more than what anyone else did.
Mingyu waits for you, worried about what couldâve caused you to leave so suddenly and start crying alone in your room.
âIâll be in my room if you need anyth-" He was about to give up when you open your door just barely, as to not let the corridor light reveal your blotched, tear-stained face. But you donât stay there, you run back to the bed as he figures out that youâre letting him in.
He enters your room carefully, slowly stepping in and closing the door behind him. Even with the lights off, he sees you sitting on your bed, legs crossed and back against the wall while youâre fidgeting with your fingers, avoiding his eyes. Before he says anything, he sits beside you on the bed, testing what youâre comfortable with. When heâs sure youâre not going to tell him to fuck off, you finally hear his voice.
âWhatâs wrong?â He experimentally puts one hand on your knee, trying to comfort you, but it ultimately makes you sob a little before you reply.
âYou have to promise not to make fun of me.â Youâre still avoiding looking at him, entranced looking at his hand, but when he doesnât answer you for a few seconds, you look to the side to meet his eyes, and only then he notices how serious your request is.
âIâd never make fun of you, or what made you sad like this.â He fixes his posture, sitting back against the wall like you and legs stretched on the bed, âIf youâre comfortable you can tell me, but if youâre not I can at least try and make you feel better, take your mind somewhere else, whatever you need.â
You feel stupid. Crying about something that happened months ago, about a guy that isnât really worth your time, when in front of you have this perfect man that for two days has made you feel more comfortable than anyone has ever. Sure, you donât know if he just does this for all his friends, if you can even call this a friendship, but at least he cares. In this moment, you feel you could tell him anything, your deepest secrets, and he would welcome it with open arms. You'd do the same for him.
âYou also canât tell anyone,â You rush to add, âlike not even Chan, okay?â Mingyu nods, a little smile showing up at his face as he realizes youâre really trusting him, âI promise.â
And you do. You open up to him, trusting him with what you have been carrying on your back these past few months that you didnât trust no one else with.
You tell him how you always liked Minghao. How you found out you actually went to the same middle school but didnât know each other. And how you thought he liked you back. How you donât even like to talk about people you fancy, but you trusted Jihyun with it, before she distanced from your group and from you. How she suddenly became close with Minghao and his friends. How every time you managed to be with Jihyun alone, she would show off that she talked on the phone with him every day, that she regularly crashed at his place after work, that he often paid for her meals. She obviously had started liking him too, and it killed you inside. You couldnât talk to her because his name would always come up somehow. A few weeks pass, you fight with your friends, and Jihyun and her new group welcome you in. They start inviting you to their hangouts, to their houses (often Chanâs). You always felt a little bit out of place, even if Chan and Jihyun always tried to invite you, and even if they always made sure to engage with you in conversations. But you were happy, you had a group of friends you saw every week, who made you laugh if you were going through rough times, and you got to spend time with the guy you liked. It wasnât perfect, but it was good, until it wasnât.
And after you finished senior year, the group was still intact. Hanging out whenever everyone could and talking on the group chat constantly. Except, you saw Minghao more often because you got into the same college, and even though you were on different majors, you still managed to bump into each other. One Friday, long after, everyone managed to get free to see each other after so long, you all went to some bar and you didnât realize how late it got, so Minghao, being that he lived close to you, offered to take you home. Things happened and you ended up sleeping together. He was your first, God how pathetic is that, and it just solidified how much you liked him, and you thought it meant something for him too. But nothing changed after that, you two never talked about it and he just pretended nothing happened. And you didnât tell anyone about it.
Months later, on Chanâs birthday, people started telling inside jokes that you didnât understand about Sami and Minghao, teasing them to no end until they both turned red. When you looked at Gyuri for context, she whispered that theyâve been on numerous dates in the last few months. Your heart dropped, you had to pretend that everything was fine for the rest of the night, but as soon as you got home, you started crying and overthinking. If this was going on for months, were they already something when he slept with you? Did that solidify to him that he liked Sami? All the times you thought maybe Minghao was flirting with you were probably just your mind fucking with you, or the worst cascenario, he was flirting with the both of you until he decided which one he liked best. You felt stupid, pathetic, but most of all you felt betrayed. Because everyone knew, including Jihyun. And all this time you geeked to her about every interaction with Minghao, telling her every detail, she knew he was seeing someone else. Sure, your relationship had changed, she had new best friends, and she probably didnât want to disclose something about Samiâs personal life, but letting you delude yourself was just mean.
Days passed, and a new secret was revealed to you, that Jihyun and Chan started dating. This just enforced what you thought that she just didnât trust you anymore, you werenât as much of a part of her life as before. You never talked about Minghao with her again, the last time she asked you about him was the same day you found out her and Chan were dating, almost half a year ago. But the topic ended there, and it was never brought up again, until tonight.
âSo, earlier when she talked about liking someone and she looked directly at me,â you breathe for the first time in at least half an hour that youâve been talking to Mingyu nonstop, âshe was referring to me liking him, and I felt so exposed, her looking at me right in the eye trying to make me confess to liking someone just so she can win an argument, it felt like I was naked and at her mercy in front of everyone.â You feel like a huge weight was lifted from your shoulders.
You can still feel tears rolling down your face. Sometime during your talk, Mingyu put his arm around you, and you rested your head on his shoulder. Youâre sure his sweatshirt must be damp with tears now.
He doesnât say anything for a while, letting you calm down and stabilizing your breathing. You concentrate on his breathing and his fingers drawing circles on your shoulder.
âThank you.â You finally speak up after a few minutes of silence.
âFor what?â
âFor listening,â you answer like itâs an obvious thing, âit was a lot, and you didnât have to, but you listened anyway.â
âOf course, and I asked, didnât I?â You chuckle lightly. He has a way of making everything easier.
âSo, what do you think?â
âDo you really want my opinion?â
âI asked, didnât I?â You copy what he said before and he chuckles.
âI think you should tell them how you feel.â You donât look at him, but you can feel his eyes on you, as if analyzing how you respond to what he said. âTheyâre your friends after all, theyâll understand.â
âI've thought about it, Iâm not very good at that kind of talks, I kinda just keep it to myself until I get over it.â
âI donât mean to be harsh, but it doesnât seem to be working.â Itâs hard hearing that, but itâs true. Youâve been carrying this for years and youâre still crying over it.
âWow,â heâs not trying to be mean, but it really left you speechless, âmaybe I should⊠to get it off my chest at least.â
âYou donât have to, but maybe youâll get some closure with Jihyun that way, thatâs the only way sheâll know sheâs making you upset.â
âNo, youâre right, Iâll talk to her,â when? You donât know, âbut only her, talking with Minghao kind of scares me, what if he forgot?â
âDonât tell anyone but,â he starts, and you smile at his silliness, âI never really liked Minghao in the first place, I donât know why, but now I have a reason.â You canât help to laugh.
âYou donât have to dislike him just because of what I told you, you should get to know him!â You donât resent Minghao for what happened, and heâs still someone you can call a friend, regardless of your history.
You dare to look up at Mingyu from his shoulder, and your face is much closer to his than you thought. Itâs dark in your room, only the moonlight providing you with enough light for you to see how his head turns slowly to meet yours, and his eyes encountering yours, like he knew you were staring at him.
âHeâs an ass for what he did to you, and I donât want to be friends with someone like that.â He speaks softly, almost in a whisper, but with such a serious tone that it gives you goosebumps. Your eyes canât seem to leave his, and neither of you want to stop. Itâs becoming a habit of you two to stare at each other, testing whoâll look away first. His breath fans over your face, and you think about his words. You knew Mingyu was a good listener, he proved it several times over the span of four days, but now heâs even taking what you said into consideration before establishing a friendship with someone? Sure, he already didnât really like Minghao, or so he said, but you gave him a reason to, so he must believe and trust you enough to truly take it into account.
This time, Mingyu breaks the silence first, âLetâs go watch the sunrise tomorrow,â but he doesnât break the eye contact. You swear you see a little spark in his eyes at his words, and it makes impossible for you to say no.
âYou really want me to go with you?â You just want confirmation that he does, that heâs not taking pity in you after crying your eyes out in front of him.
âItâll be sad if I go alone, and besides, youâre the one I like the most here,â and itâs like a thousand butterflies fly out of their cocoon simultaneously inside your stomach, âdonât tell Chan I said that.â You both laugh at his words.
âWe should go to sleep then, what time does the sun come out? Like 5:30 am?â You groan while saying the last words. You were never a morning person.
Cold hits you all around when Mingyu takes his arm off your shoulders and gets off your bed. You almost want to ask him to stay the night here so you can wake up together. But you donât.
âIâll come and wake you up, but donât punch me please,â he jokes about what you said the day before and you chuckle. âGood night, see you in a few hours,â he says as he walks to your door slowly, hoping youâd ask him to stay. But you donât, and he doesnât say anything either.
DAY FIVE
Waking up so early in the morning isnât difficult. You barely got any sleep; you spent the whole time watching the ceiling overthinking about everything that happened. You even heard Mingyuâs alarm in the distance, so when he knocked to wake you up, you were already ready.
The sky is starting to show more colors as the minutes pass. Youâre sitting on a mat at the beach while Mingyuâs inside making coffee for the both of you. Is it wrong to think that there may be something more to your friendship with Mingyu? Youâre almost certain youâre starting to like him, and these moments youâve been having together donât do anything to suppress your bubbling feelings. Itâs dangerous, and you donât want to let it go too far, not again.
You hear his steps behind you before you see him. He hands you the coffee in silence and you thank him with a smile. Youâre both slowly sipping away your coffee admiring the colors of the sky as they become more alive the more the sun comes out. The soft morning breeze gives you chills, but the warm cup in your hand eases it away, and the waves crashing provide with enough background noise for it to not be completely silent. But being quiet with him hasnât been uncomfortable, you donât feel the need to fill the void, youâre just two people enjoying each otherâs company.
As the sky turns orange and pink, with swirling clouds making it look like a painting, Mingyu takes his camera out and takes photos beside you. You watch him as he does his thing, changing the settings of the camera and picking different angles, mesmerized, and you donât notice he says something to you.
âSorry?â You come back to earth and find him looking at you already.
âI said Iâm glad we did this,â his smile almost outshines the sun.
âMe too.â You smile back, afraid to show just how you really like to be with him, afraid to scare him away.
âYouâre the first person that doesnât think Iâm weird for wanting to do this you know?â He mutters after he puts down the camera, âpeople always tell me itâs too much of a sacrifice.â
âThatâs so stupid!â You huff, incredulous look on your face, âI get not wanting to wake up early on vacation but like, a sacrifice? Thatâs so dramatic.â
âYou get it! Thank you.â
Itâs quiet for a little while after. Every few minutes a new shade of orange paints the sky and Mingyu points his camera up to take more pictures. He probably took a thousand pictures already but shows no sign of stopping. You opt for laying down, the little sleepiness you felt already slipped away, and youâre left with your thoughts until Mingyu lays down too.
âI wish we could freeze time and just stay here like this.â You prefer being here alone with him than inside the house getting overwhelmed by everything. Here, itâs much peaceful, comfortable.
âThat would be nice wouldnât it.â
The sun is fully out by now, the birds already started singing on the background, and you can hear cars on the distance. The day officially started, youâre no longer on the limbo in between yesterday and tomorrow.
After everyone wakes up and has breakfast together, you and Mingyu take a quick nap before lunch time. Eventually the lack of sleep got to both of you, and you werenât even able to keep a conversation going.
The house is suspiciously silent when you wake up, itâs probably 3 or 4 pm but no one seems to be at the house. Except for the one person you encounter when you go out to the porch for some air.
âHey! You're finally awake!â Jihyun greets you with excitement, too oblivious about what happened the day before, âthat was some nap!â Maybe you should really tell her, she has the right to know if youâre mad or upset at her. It's not like she forgot about what youâve told her, you just have to let her know how that makes you feel. Itâs easy!
âI think I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow, I mustâve been too tired.â It comes out a little colder than you intended, hopefully sheâll mistake it by sleepiness.
âWere you okay yesterday? You went to bed so suddenly.â Nowâs the time, you canât just lie now, if you donât tell her now then itâs pointless.
âActually, I wanted to talk to you about that.â You go to the point straight away and she notices your serious tone.
âIs everything okay?â Thereâs a little voice in your head telling you sheâs not actually worried, but right now you decide not to believe it
âItâs about what you said yesterday, I wanted to ask you...â your hands shake as you lean against the rail by her side, looking at the beach, not so peaceful like in the morning now, and you turn your head to look at her, âit may be stupid but, were you like, indirectly asking me if I still like Minghao?â You do feel stupid as the words leave your mouth.
âOh, I donât really remember why I did that, I was kinda drunk and saying stupid shit,â you relax a little, at least she wasnât trying to put you on the spotlight on purpose, âbut maybe? I mean you never talked about him again.â
âI just thought it was awkward, since I became friends with everyone.â The conversation isnât really going anywhere. You could leave it like this, but the topic out in the open and it could be the only chance to get answers, âand with you also liking him and all that.â
âI-I didnât, I mean-â she stutters, and suddenly dropping the bomb that you know more information than she gave to you in the first place doesnât feel right.
âItâs okay, well no itâs not really, you shouldâve told me, but Iâm past it by now.â Jihyun visibly relaxes at your words, but the air starts getting thicker, the atmosphere awkward.
âYouâre right I shouldâve told you, Iâm sorry,â she avoids your eyes. Youâre looking right at her, but she keeps her eyes on the ocean, or the sand, or literally anywhere else. âIt was just a silly crush, it didnât mean anything.â
âI donât think it was, but itâs fine.â How can she just brush it off so easily?
âActually, you donât know how it was,â suddenly now sheâs capable of facing you, and her eyes are almost on fire, âwe werenât even friends by then, so you donât know what it was like.â
âWhy are you saying that like itâs my fault?â Anger starts to take over your brain, âand we were definitely still friends.â
âIt just wasnât the same and you know it.â
"You were the one who pushed me aside!â
âI pushed you aside? I welcomed you! When you were alone! I invited you to every hangout, every party, I invited you everywhere!â
âYou stopped trusting me.â Thereâs a noticeable hurt in your voice, âyou didnât even tell me when you started to like Chan.â
âYou were too busy feeling sorry for yourself that you didnât notice, even Vernon noticed, and he has zero awareness of what happens around him.â
âBecause my best friend liked the same guy as me and didnât even tell me!â
âI just couldnât tell you.â
âYes, you couldâve! and I really still wanted to be friends with you, at least I thought we still were.â Flashbacks of times your other friends told you how you should stop taking to her come to your mind. âAnd you did tell me,â Jihyun looks confused at your statement, âmaybe not directly, but every time you decided I was good enough to have alone time with, and knowing just how much I liked Minghao, the only thing you ever talked about was him, and how smart he was, or how funny he was, or how he let you have his jacket, it was pretty obvious.â
Jihyun freezes in place. She looks down again and red stains start appearing on her cheeks.
âSo yeah, I didnât exactly want to talk about him with you.â This really isnât turning out the way you thought it would.
âI- I didnât realize,â you barely hear her whisper, âI wasnât doing it on purpose.â
âDid you also just didnât realize that it wouldâve been nice to tell me that they were going out?â Their names arenât said out loud, but Jihyun knows what youâre talking about, âI had to found out myself, and everyone knew except for me, stupid old me who was obliviously still hung up on him.â
âIâm sorry,â if you werenât so angry, maybe youâd take pity on her and stop arguing, but at this moment, it just makes you madder.
âDo you know how horrible it is to see the girl who used to give you insecurities and the guy youâve liked for years be together? Or how hard it is not to cry in that moment? Surrounded by other people who donât know how you feel, while the only person who did know just ignores you?â Tears start blurring your vision, but you donât let them fall, you canât, âluckily I donât like him anymore, but the guilt is killing me.â
âShe asked me not to tell anyone, they werenât serious at first.â
âYou couldâve just told me beforehand that he was seeing someone, you didnât have to tell me who it was.â
âIâm sorry, I really am.â Jihyun looks at you in the eyes for the first time in minutes, her eyes also glittery with tears.
âAnd yesterday, I felt so exposed, like you only wanted me to confess so you could win a stupid argument, like my feelings didnât matter at all.â
âI really wasnât trying to do that, Iâm serious.â
âIt doesnât matter what you wanted or didnât want to do, thatâs how it made me feel.â
âIâm sorry.â The front door opens on the other side of the house and a chorus of voices reaches your ears. What a time to have a full house again.
You both look inside at the first sound, and you can feel her eyes on you again a second after, but you canât turn your head, you canât look at her, not right now. Without looking back, your feet walk you off to the beach, maybe with a load off your shoulders, but a little more broken than before.
A walk alone might just be what you need. Tears donât fall, the wind blowing them off before they can. By the time you come back, you find someone else alone on the porch, and itâs almost like the universe wants you to suffer today.
Minghao stands in the same place you were before, with his body resting on the rail and looking at the ocean. He sees you at the distance and waves, but you can only find the energy to give him half a smile.
Itâs impossible to ignore him now, so you walk over to him and stand by his side in silence. But that doesnât last long. Something in you seems to want to let go today, free you from everything youâve been holding inside for so long. At this moment, revealing to him how you felt seems like the best option, and you donât argue with your brain about it.
âIâm gonna tell you something,â your words catch his attention, and he turns his head to you, but you stay still looking ahead, âbut you donât have to say anything back, itâs just so I can let it go, okay?â
Minghao nods slowly, confused by your words but listening, nevertheless.
âI used to really like you, you know,â your gaze catches his for a second before going back, âI donât anymore, but yeah, I just wanted to get it off my chest.â
His mouth opens, as if heâs about to say something, but nothing comes out. His silence doesnât scare you like you thought it would, âI didnât mean to freak you out, and I donât expect you to say anything.â
âI just⊠I didnât know,â he sounds apologetic as he replies. Maybe itâs better that he didnât know, it would be embarrassing if he or anyone else knew.
âWe never talked about what happened between us,â it pains you to remember, but now you have to finish what you started, âbut it meant something to me, I know for you it was probably nothing, because you started seeing Sami right after, and donât get me wrong you two are perfect together Iâm not trying to interfere, but yeah, it really hurt me that you just pretended that everything was normal after.â You finish with a sigh of relief. Everything youâve been holding onto is now out in the open, and youâve never felt so relieved, like you could finally breathe.
âI was an ass,â his statement is surprising, âI donât have any excuse for what I did, I was an ass and Iâm sorry.â
âYeah, you were,â you joke as you turn around, and he chuckles. You catch a glimpse of the living room through the window and see Mingyu sitting on the couch with Chan and Jeonghan. The three are paying attention to Vernon, whoâs standing up telling a story, making dramatic movements with his arms.
âAre you okay?â Minghao asks and catches your attention again.
âI had a fight with Jihyun,â you donât want to tell him, and you hope he doesnât ask about it further, âI donât really want to talk about it.â
âOkay,â itâs a little awkward, but thereâs nothing you can do now. You told him what you had to, and he apologized, âIâm gonna go inside then, is everything okay between us?â heâs almost at the door when he asks.
âDefinitely, and sorry I dumped all of that out of nowhere.â
âYou donât have to be sorry.â With that, he finally goes in and joins the guys on the couch.
After dinnerâs over and everyone moved from the dining room and onto the couches, youâre left alone picking everything up and doing the dishes. After three days of cooking every meal, you collectively chose to order from a local restaurant instead, so luckily there's not much to clean.
Dinner was awkward as it has never been. Jihyun couldnât look you in the eyes, even if she tried to act as if nothing happened. And not a word came out of your mouth, besides when you offered to do the dishes. No one else probably noticed the weird energy in the room, but to you it was suffocating.
As youâre putting the glasses on the sink, Mingyu re-enters the room. You try not to pay too much attention to him as he walks over to you, even if your skin tingles every time heâs around.
âDo you wanna go for a walk around town?â He has to crouch down to whisper in your ear.
âRight now? I promised to do the dishes.â The idea excites you for sure, the house has been weighing you down all day and also spending time alone with Mingyu is an activity youâre starting to love these days. But you also fear what everyone might say if you leave out of nowhere.
âWeâll get someone else to do it.â Youâre not usually this easy to convince, but for him itâs suddenly too easy.
âFine, but you do the talking.â He chuckles as he motions for you to follow him.
His back is hypnotizing as you walk behind him. His hair is damp from the quick shower he went to take right after he finished his plate. The woody smell of his cologne reaches you strongly, and you fear it may become your favorite smell ever.
You manage to get past everyone thatâs lounging on the living room without getting noticed, but as Mingyuâs about to open the front door, Chan comes out of the bathroom and bumps into you, questioning look on his face. Before he can ask anything, Mingyu tells him that you two will go out and to please do the dishes. His brows donât stop frowning, but in the end, he lets you go out, agreeing with a groan.
It's the first time youâve been out of the house for the last few days. The few supply runs that were done you didnât go, and the beach is kind of a part of the house, so it doesnât count. The fresh night air hits you when you step on the street, and with Mingyu by your side, you no longer feel suffocated, you can finally breathe.
When Mingyu starts walking in one direction, you follow him. Since him, Chan and their family have been coming here every summer for their entire lives, he knows the town pretty well and you trust him to guide you.
You walk around the streets for a while, talking about trivial things, telling each other anecdotes and joking around, getting to know each other more than you were able the past few days. Because even if you spent quite some time together, it was always situational, but right now, alone with no one you know around, itâs much easier to let go.
The town feels cozy and warm, like the hometown from a Christmas movie. Itâs very quiet and you donât encounter many people, only the occasional old couple that goes out for a walk or few people walking their dogs.
âHow come Iâve never met you before? I went to your house multiple times,â you ask when you decide to sit down at a park.
Such a strong presence like his is hard to ignore, but somehow, after all these years of being friends with his brother, you only heard about him, never met. Your friends would talk about him from time to time, and you were always itching to meet him, but it was like he was never there.
âI let Chan have his space when he has people over,â he shrugs as if itâs the most normal thing, but itâs something thatâs been plaguing your head ever since you were introduced.
âBut you've met the others?â
âThey're at our house a lot, a little more than I'd like if I'm being honest,â you both chuckle at his statement
âYeah, they can be a little annoying and loud but thatâs why I like them, they can take your mind off other things.â A lot of times, when you were having a rough day or you were sad about something, having fun with them would make you forget about everything. Focusing on a stupid cooking competition Gyuri made up or playing a new card game Jeonghan discovered, those would become your favorite days.
âI know you said you donât really like Minghao for some reason, but what about the rest? Don't you like them?â Youâve seen him talk with everyone by now, so youâre just curious.
âIs it bad that I donât care about them enough? To have an opinion on them I mean, they're just my brother's friends.â
âAre you saying you donât have an opinion about me?â Deep down you really want to know what he thinks about you, why he seems to want to spend time with you out of all the others.
âI'd like to think youâre not just my brotherâs friend by now.â That could mean a lot of things, but it doesnât stop your stomach from contracting and a smile from appearing on your face.
âThat does not answer my question!â You push him lightly to the side, so he doesnât see the tiniest blush creeping up your cheeks.
âI already told you I like you the most out of everyone at the house.â He keeps finding the words to make your mind collapse and saying them so nonchalantly.
âYou only said that to make me feel better because I was crying.â
âI mean it,â the poor lighting at the park doesnât prevent you from seeing the truthfulness in Mingyuâs eyes, âI wouldnât have asked you to come out here with me if I didnât.â
âThatâs good.â You respond through a smile, and you see his smile form in his eyes before the rest of his face joins.
âWhy?â
âYou might be becoming my favorite too.â The confession shocks you as it leaves your mouth, and you regret it instantly. But when you see him getting shy, and even detect a little blush on his ears, it becomes worth it. âShould we get back? Itâs getting really late.â
The walk back is just as calm and comforting as before. But the difference is youâre much more aware of Mingyu by your side. How his hand slightly brushes yours every now and then, sparking electricity that runs through your veins and birthing just a tiny bit of hope that heâll connect them for once. How your steps coordinate even if his legs are much longer than yours. You donât care if your being quiet, not with him.
âI have seen you around at my house, I just never went over and said hi,â he confesses after a few minutes, âI really shouldâve, we couldâve met sooner.â Thereâs a tone of regret in his voice and his eyes shine at the possibility.
âYouâd like that?â His words warm up your insides and you canât resist the smile that breaks on your face as you look at him.
âYeah,â his eyes shine as they meet yours, entranced, âI feel like an asshole, Chan always invited me to hang out with you guys when I was home, but I always refused, I don't know why.â
âI get it,â you both look at the empty road ahead, breaking the eye contact before you trip and fall, âI probably wouldâve done the same.â
âEventually I met everyone, except for you.â
âMaybe we were meant to meet this way,â your statement makes him look at you with curiosity, âlike maybe if we met before you wouldnât have spared me a second thought and you wouldnât have asked me to ride with you on the way here.â
âYou believe in destiny and that stuff?â Thereâs no mocking tone on his voice, but youâre still careful with your answer.
âSomething like that, more like the universe prepares us for our future, like we go through things for a reason,â you feel a little stupid talking about it out loud, but Mingyu wonât judge you, âI try to see the good in the bad, is it silly?â
âI do believe in destiny, so if itâs silly then Iâm fucked too,â his joke takes a laugh out of you and your eyes connect again, âyou look really pretty when you smile.â
âOh, shut up!â You avoid his eyes by looking down, but your red stained cheeks reveal his effect on you. Why is he saying all of these things all of the sudden? The talk about wishing to meet sooner and destiny already had your stomach filled with butterflies, but his sudden flirting makes your insides want to explode.
âMissed it today,â you look up slowly at his words, âyou looked down at dinner earlier, did something happen?â
âI impulsively talked with Jihyun, and it didnât end well,â you start fidgeting with your fingers, embarrassed by your behavior, âshe tried to apologize but, in the moment, it didnât feel genuine to me so I kinda just stormed off.â
âAt least you got to tell her what you felt,â your head tilts like you canât believe what heâs saying, âsee the good in the bad, like you said.â
âYeah, youâre right,â you huff, but the release of all those pent-up feelings did feel relieving, âand I also talked to Minghao after all.â
âOh yeah I saw you guys talking earlier, how did that go?â Itâs disappointing to see youâre already back at the front of the house. You donât want the night to end, you wanna keep carelessly talking with Mingyu forever.
âBetter I think,â you shrug as he lets you in, âI told him that I used to like him.â He follows right behind you as you walk towards your rooms. The lights are all turned off, the silence interrupted by your steps and your voices. No oneâs up beside you two. âIt was awkward but at least I got it off my chest.â
âUsed to? You donât like him anymore?â Mingyu asks with curiosity. A tiny glint of hope reveals in his eyes waiting for your response.
When you think about why you liked Minghao, you canât really think of much. Memories of times heâd remember details about you or say casual flirty things come to mind, but is that enough to like someone? Times when he straight up ignored you to go after his friends, or when he couldnât even say hi to you when you saw each other in college always made you doubt.
âI donât know if I ever liked him actually.â
âHow so?â Itâs scary to open up to someone like youâre doing with Mingyu, but for some reason you find it easy to tell him things youâve never said out loud.
âI think I just liked the idea of a guy I found attractive liking me, even if he never actually did.â You always thought he was attractive, and when heâd say little flirty things to you your stomach your burn up. But before that started you didnât think about him in that way. âI donât know if it was all in my head or not.â
âAny guy would be really stupid not to like you.â He stands with his back against the wall beside his door, looking down at you with the most honesty youâve ever seen in his eyes.
âYou keep saying things like that,â confusing you, giving you hope. The wall hits you as you stand back, staring at him in the same position he is. Both beside your doors, you could end the night right now, stop this back and forth between you, but something keeps you out here, longing for him to do something.
âI mean what I say.â It feels like a challenge was laid down in front of you, but you want him to take the first step.
âI know.â He smirks at your words.
âGood.â His eyes stare so intensely, like heâs trying to read your mind, to know every thought passing through your mind. Heâs usually very hypnotizing, but right now, under the moonlight, flirty haze and smirk adorning his face, you canât look away.
Everything around you blurs as you stare at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence, to make a move, to do anything. Every second it passes the tension becomes more and more palpable, even the tiniest move might snap it. But the both of you stay static, only a faint noise of rain beginning to fall filling the silence.
Seconds feel like minutes, and every second that passes that Mingyu does nothing gets more disappointing. Maybe it was all in your head after all.
Defeated, you throw a little smile and a muffled âgood night' at him as your hand turns your doorknob, and you finally break eye contact, entering your room slowly as his face drops.
When you close the door, you regret it instantly. You stand there, listening attentively for any noise. Is he still standing there? Maybe you shouldâve done something, maybe he was also waiting for you.
Thereâs no noise coming from outside, and as more seconds pass, you lose hope. You donât even breathe in case it blocks any possible noise from reaching your ears, but itâs pointless.
You take a step closer to the door and open it slightly, stupidly hoping he might be waiting for you, but the hallwayâs completely empty.
Once again, you deluded yourself into thinking an attractive guy might like you, even if this time the âsignsâ seemed so much clearer, but it clearly didnât mean anything. You donât regret spending time with him though, he actually helped you a lot these past few days, itâs your fault you thought it meant something else.
DAY SIX
After tossing and turning all night, sleeping in short periods of time while your mind over thinks instead of resting, you finally check the time and see itâs a normal hour to wake up.
You wonât admit, you kinda hoped Mingyu had texted you during the night. Your stomach contracts as you remember how he gave you his number a few days ago:
Everyone was sitting on the couches hanging out. It was early in the afternoon, but no one had really any plans. Mingyu was sitting in between you and Gyuri. They were talking about some band they both like. You grabbed your phone to google something he said, sure he got a fact wrong. When you smugly showed it to him, he huffed defeated, and grabbed your phone to read it again. But then you noticed he started typing something really fast. You looked at Gyuri by his side with a questioning look on your face, but she just raised her eyebrows teasingly after looking at what he was doing. When he returned the phone to you, it was on the contact list, a new one stood with his name on it.
Doesnât really matter now, as you probably wonât use it after the vacation is over.
A smell of some kind of breakfast welcomes you as you open your door, someone is cooking something really yummy, but before you move forward to check who it is, Mingyuâs open door draws your attention. Judging by the time and his empty bedroom, itâs most likely he will be the one standing in the kitchen right now, and you canât stand to face him. Not after last night. Not after you embarrassed yourself.
The sound of your stomach growling reminds you to feed it, and you remember a cute cafe you saw the night before while walking.
You manage to head out without the mystery person hearing and walk to where you remember the shop was. The sun in the sky warms up the atmosphere, you almost canât notice the heavy rain it poured all night. As you near the cafe, you see they sell Jihyunâs favorite cupcakes. Maybe if you get her a few sheâll be unable to ignore you.
Ignoring Mingyu might be an easy task for these next few days, but Jihyun is someone you canât ignore until the issue doesnât bother you anymore. One of the thoughts that kept you up all night was how to fix things with her, you were both wrong, so itâs only right to approach her and talk things through again. What you didnât expect was seeing Jihyun enter the same shop while youâre paying.
You make eye contact, knowing youâre both here with the same purpose. As you walk towards her, she doesnât walk away from you, and that confirms she also wants to talk things through.
The shop has a few tables placed outside, and after Jihyun sits on one you sit in front of her. It's awkward as you put the cupcakes you just bought in front of her.
âIâm-â your voices overlap as you speak the same words. You both laugh awkwardly, and she motions for you to talk first.
âIâm sorry for the way I acted yesterday, it was childish of me to just walk away and not letting you explain, and I shouldnât have dumped all that to you out of nowhere, Iâm sorry.â Afraid of her reaction, the words leave your mouth so fast you barely register what you say.
âIâm the one who should be sorry,â her response is surprising, as you expected to be the only one apologizing, âyou were right about what you said, I was a bad friend for not telling you, and I shouldnât have asked you in front of everyone if you were still in love with him, that was really stupid.â In love. It's weird to hear that about Minghao again, after so many days of getting over him, those words attached to him feel odd.
âAnd Iâm sorry for not noticing that you and Chan liked each other, you really are perfect for one another by the way.â
âThanks,â your comment breaks a laugh out of her, and you can finally breathe, âso are we ok? I really hate fighting, especially with you.â As the atmosphere relaxes between you two, Jihyun finally grabs one of the cupcakes you bought and starts eating it.
âYes, I hate fighting too letâs not do that ever again please.â Making up was so easy, you feel ashamed for walking out on her, but now youâll never do it again.
âGreat cause I have something to ask you,â the relief you felt quickly turns into curiosity and you look at her expectantly, âwell, itâs more so to confirm Chan's suspicions that a question but, do you have something going on with his brother?â
Red rushes to your face and your stomach drops in shock. Your shyness is a dead giveaway and Jihyun catches up in no time.
âOh my god he was right?! You must tell me everything now!â Excitement shines through Jihyunâs voice, talking loudly and earning a few weird looks from people passing by.
âNothing happened, I guess weâre together often and Chan noticed,â the disappointment on your voice is noticeable, âheâs really nice.â
âChannie told me yesterday that you two were acting weird and asked me if you had told me anything.â Jihyun notices somethingâs wrong, she stretches her hand to take yours, âdid he do something?â
âItâs more about what he didnât doâ. The questioning look she gives you urges you to continue, âwe went on a walk last night after dinner and Chan caught us before leaving, and I just,â remembering everything you talked about, how he wished heâd met you before, itâs a new kind of pain youâve never felt before, âI thought he might like me or something, but it was stupid.â
âYou know, for Chan to think there was something between you, I donât think itâs nothing.â Jihyun always tries to be positive, and you do too, but this time you just canât.
âWell, he had the chance, and he didnât do anything, I was giving him bedroom eyes and everything!â Now youâre starting to get mad. At you. At him. At you for believing this was more than a passing friendship. At him for being so kind and hot and nice and handsome and a good listener and everything a girl could ask for.
âMaybe he got nervous!â
âHe doesnât seem like the type of guy to get nervous around girls.â
And youâre right. He isnât. So why did you have such an effect on him that he couldnât make a move?
From Mingyuâs point of view everything was different. He understood after a few days that he liked you a little more than he should, and it only intensified after you watched the sunrise together.
After your date that shouldnât be called a date at all, but it felt like one to him, all he wanted was to kiss you, to prove that youâre worthy of someone being head over heels for you. He had been thinking about it the whole night, but in that moment, he froze.
You were looking at him so expectantly, with droopy eyes like you wanted to eat him. It was too much for him, and heâs beating himself for it since.
As soon as you closed your door, his feet automatically lead him to the windy beach, with only the tiny porch roof to shield him from the storm, but he didnât care.
In the morning, he woke up before everyone as usual and started making breakfast for the two of you, hoping you wonât hate him, hoping he didnât lose his chance. But then he saw you sprint out the front door like you were running away from him.
All day Mingyuâs been waiting to get you alone, but you were always so busy, talking with someone else or helping to clean up so the house is squeaky clean before everyone leaves tomorrow. If he doesnât get to explain himself and make it right, he fears he probably wonât see you again for a long time.
As your last night at the house, everyone decided to have a goodbye party. And by âpartyâ you mean a hang out with no alcohol, because no one wanted to drive six hours while hang over and because you all spent the whole day cleaning and tidying everything up. Just hang out, playing games, maybe one beer or two, not enough to get anyone drunk.
Sitting on the couches as usual, you can feel Mingyuâs gaze piercing through you from across the room. You did avoid him all day, making yourself busy whenever you saw him around, but you didnât think he noticed.
Your attempts to evade his overwhelming presence are pointless. You donât look at him, focusing on whoever is talking or pretending to look for something on your phone, but every time you stretch to grab something off the table, he coincidentally goes for it too.
The distance between you might not be noticeable for the naked eye, just casually sitting across from each other, youâre not one to talk much so itâs usual for you to look at whoâs talking and not interrupt them. Mingyuâs just the same, but his eyes seem to have got a life of their own and wander to you at your every movement.
Itâs killing Mingyu inside to know that youâre avoiding him. He knows he fucked up, but fears that if he confronts you, youâll just deny it. There's not much he can do in this group setting.
His opportunity arises when everyone decides to do a movie night. Itâs weird to watch a movie on your last night, but he wonât oppose to it if itâs an unanimous decision. And when youâre tasked with the popcorn, he knows itâs time to talk to you without anyone hearing. He tags along, throwing some lame excuse to the others saying heâll help you.
You object, youâll do just fine on your own, but your legs betray you and donât stop even when he insists. Youâre both inside the kitchen in no time and thereâs no running back.
âIâll just heat the bags on the microwave, and you can take them to the coffee table.â You avoid looking at him too much, trying to focus as best as you can, but the popcorn bags are nowhere to be found. You look inside every cabinet, doing a very rigorous search, anything to keep the interaction as short as possible.
âLet me help you.â As the kind man Mingyu is, he attempts to join you in the search, but if he gets a mere inch closer to you, you might lose it.
âNo, itâs fine I can find them.â It comes out harsher than you intend, but at least he backs away.
Thereâs a minute of silence, only your huffs of frustration can be heard.
âIâm sorry.â
You stop in your tracks, search already forgotten as you scavenge through your mind to find any usable words to respond.
âAbout what?â You huff incredulously.
âAbout last night.â Mingyu looks small as he waits for your reply.
âThereâs nothing to be sorry about.â The big kitchen suddenly feels too small, the four walls imprisoning you. You ignore his figure as you walk over to the tiny storage room right beside the kitchen. Maybe there are forgotten popcorn bags there and you can finally end this conversation. But Mingyu's committed to his cause and follows you.
âBut there is.â Itâs almost annoying how adamant he is about whatever he wants to say. You donât want him to pity you, itâs already embarrassing enough.
âItâs fine, really.â Mingyu followed you inside the tiny room, and when you turn around to face him, heâs dangerously close. Your breath hitches, but you force yourself to not have another reaction.
âItâs not,â barely a meter separates you from Mingyu, too close for your liking but at the same time too far. He realizes and moves forward half a step, so now if you concentrate enough, you can feel his breath as he speaks, âI know youâve been avoiding me all day because of what happened... I shouldnât have-â
âLook, maybe I've been avoiding you but itâs because I want to keep the last bit of pride I have left, I thought you wanted to kiss me and you didnât, itâs okay, you donât have to pity m-â
The words stop coming out of your mouth a millisecond before Mingyu grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours with force.
The kiss lasts merely seconds, but you melt under his touch instantly. Mingyuâs lips mold over yours perfectly, pillowy and soft, but with authority.
He backs away slowly, your eyes still closed, and your foreheads connected, he gives you a peck before finally separating.
âI wanted to kiss you, I mean, I want to, like all the time.â You watch him with glossy eyes, still dizzy from the kiss.
Your bodies are close like theyâve never been before, you have to move your head up to even see his face. The pumps of your heart are so strong he might even feel them. Your mouth hangs open in shock, your brain makes no sense of whatâs happening, and words donât seem to want to get out of you.
âI should've done that yesterday.â Mingyu can barely contain his smile as he confesses.
âYeah, you should've!â You chuckle as you jokingly slap him on the chest, âWhy didnât you?â
âI donât know,â his hands sneak around your waist, fingers creeping inside your t-shirt to touch your bare skin, âyou make me nervous.â
âRight, but you don't seem so nervous now,â as his fingers trace circles on your sides, your arms wrap around his neck naturally. Your faces get ever so slightly closer by the second, your chin up and his head down, eyes connected in a trance that draws a smirk on his face.
âDo you forgive me?â He breaks the eye contact, gaze focused on your parted lips.
âHmm, I donât know⊠Iâm not convinced yet.â Itâs your turn to smirk, trying to get a reaction out of him.
Mingyuâs eyes change before something takes over in him. He wraps his arms around your waist and erases the little distance between your bodies, connecting your lips in a frenzy kiss, nothing like the sweet one before. Your arms hug his neck, bringing his face and body impossibly closer to yours.
You sigh when his hands start traveling across your back as he deepens the kiss, licking your lower lip and tangling your tongues together. His arms hug your waist up, forcing you on your tiptoes to reach his height while your hands on his neck push him down. Like a game of push and pull, both of you fighting for dominance, one pushes their body against the other and the other pushes you both closer, if even possible.
Inside you feel like exploding. You knew you wanted him, but your body wants more, you need more. From the first touch the only thing on your mind is him, his hands on you, your chests flushed together, his lips on yours with force, where they belong. Everywhere he touches feels like itâs on fire. When his hands sneak below your t-shirt and his fingers wander around the unexplored territory, you sigh on his mouth again and you feel his smirk against your lips.
The metal shelves dig onto your back, but you donât care, all thatâs on your mind is him, until some lonely can falls to the ground and makes an inexplicable loud noise that alerts not only the two of you.
âIs everything okay?â Chanâs question comes from far away, but itâs enough to make you jump and push Mingyu away from your face.
âYeah! We just,â Youâre too out of breath to speak more than a couple of words, âcouldnât find the freaking popcorn.â
âDoesnât Mingyu remember where we keep it?â You turn to catch Mingyu as he smugly retrieves his hand from behind your head to reveal the bags youâve been looking for.
âNeed any help?â Chanâs voice gets dangerously closer.
âNo need! Thank you!â You take your chance to snatch the popcorn out of Mingyu's hands and start walking away from him and towards the kitchen, âMingyuâs so annoying!â You hear Chan's laugh as he leaves.
âBut you like me as I am,â Mingyu whispers in your ear, already caught up beside you, smirk so prominent you can even hear it.
âIs it too late to retract?â
âYep, youâll have to deal with me forever now.â
âForever huh?â The humming of the microwave accompanies the moment as you turn around to find Mingyu standing against the kitchen island, arms stretched as if heâs showing off his muscles. He definitely catches you ogling him, but thatâs whatâs fun.
The knowledge that youâre able to make him nervous is too powerful. Your hunger translates in the way you look at him, standing against the sink in the same way he is, you look at him exactly the same way as the night before, lust and want almost tangible.
You stand still, waiting for him again, but this time he doesnât chicken out. Slowly, he steps closer to you and cages you in between his arms. The air becomes too thick, atmosphere heavy as you look up at him expectantly.
The microwave beeps behind you but none of you react, too in your own bubble to care about the outside world. His eyes switch between yours, with his eyebrows raised and lightly biting his lower lip, using no words but telling you everything.
His hands sneak around your waist, and you donât fight the smile cracking on your lips. You move your head forward, craving his lips on yours again.
âGuys whatâs taking so long?â Youâve never separated faster. You barely get to turn around and open the microwave before Chan appears inside the kitchen, notoriously troubled. A few steps by your left, Mingyu searches for bowls, his back facing the both of you as to not reveal his blushed face.
Chanâs eyes switch between watching his brother and watching you, waiting for an answer as you grab the piping hot bag and dump the freshly done popcorn into a bowl. The silence is telling, even to him.
âSorry, weâll be right there.â Chan grabs the bowl reluctantly, clearly aware that something happened, just not sure what. As he walks away, he even turns his head around to analyze the two of you for a second.
The movie democratically chosen is quite interesting at first, but after some boring scenes, the little power of concentration you have evaporates. Mingyuâs body is next to yours, legs touching and his arm resting on the back of the couch. What you want need is so close yet so far.
You sit back so he can wrap his arm around you without raising any suspicions, goosebumps run across your entire body when he finally does.
Not engaged in the movie at all, you opt for looking at the man by your side. Mingyu notices your gaze as soon as it lands on him, but he pretends he doesnât. Everything about your current situation is making him lose his mind. The way you keep searching for his touch, even with all your friends surrounding you, inviting him to sit so close to you, not hiding as you stare at him, everything is making him nervous. The nervousness from the night before crawls back onto his body, because of you, his brotherâs best friend, here, how youâre making him feel. He just doesnât know how to act around you.
As he wraps his arms around you, you snuggle closer to him, only a blanket hiding your closeness from prying eyes. The movieâs long forgotten, with your head on Mingyuâs shoulder, you can only concentrate the rise and fall of his chest, his soft touches on the side of your arm. His warmth is hypnotizing, prompting your hand to place itself on the uncovered skin of his thigh, just above his knee. You donât miss the way his breath hitches at your touch, goosebumps reveal around the cold of your hand. He expects for you to move it, but your hand stays there, squeezing softly, much too close to his knee, for a few minutes.
When a fight scene breaks on the movie, you take advantage of the noise and the initial shock, and move your palm slightly up Mingyuâs thigh, over his shorts but closer to where his groin starts to wake up.
Judging by Mingyuâs face, thereâs nothing suspicious about you two. He stays looking up front, pretending to pay attention to the screen, while inside all he can think about is your hand and what youâre planning to do with it. The expectations excite him just as much as they scare him. All he wants is your body close to his, making you feel through his actions just how much he likes you, but he didnât think youâd start something while surrounded by all your friends. Itâs dark, only the movie lights up the room, and youâre on the far end on the couch where it would be hard for anyone to see you, but itâs still quite exposing. Someone could catch you, you donât seem to care, and it excites him more than it should.
âI know what youâre doing,â you barely hear his whisper through all the noise.
âIs it working?â Your thumb slowly grazes his skin as he flexes his thigh muscles.
âI have probably minutes of self-control left, so weâll see.â He backs his head away again and you turn to watch his reaction as your hand moves over his already semi hard cock. Only a few touches and heâs already halfway up. It fills you with pride to know how much of an effect you have on him. Big, strong, serious Mingyu, coming apart under your hand.
Your palm moves up and down his covered length slowly, feeling it getting harder under your touch. His reactions are so minimal that you only notice because you pay attention closely.
What you didnât anticipate was his hand creeping up your thigh. Slowly, his fingers find their way inside the tiny shorts you put on, drawing circles on your inner thigh, nowhere near enough to your core but still sending waves of arousal through your whole body.
Half of the run time of the movie passes, but your touches stay over your clothes, teasing, barely grazing. You stop palming him the second his index fingers ghosts over your covered clit, your breath hitches and youâre too shocked to keep up your movements. As the seconds pass, Mingyu runs his fingers through your covered folds, feeling how wet you already are.
The movieâs suddenly silent, the main characters looking at each other in the eyes. It's probably a very important scene, but you only concentrate on not making any noise as Mingyu works you up under the blanket.
With your hand still motionless on Mingyu's cock, he stretches until his head reaches your ears when the scene changes and noise fills the room again.
âLetâs go to my room.â Thereâs no hesitation in his voice.
âYou donât wanna watch the ending?â You tease back. You donât even know what happened in the movie this whole time.
âIf I donât have my fingers inside you in the next five minutes, I might go crazy.â His statement leaves your jaw hanging as he, contrary to what he just said, removes his hand from you.
âIâm sorry guys, gotta drive tomorrow,â Mingyu suddenly gets up and everyone's confused eyes are on him, âdonât wanna be up until too late.â And with those words, heâs out of the living room in no time.
Everyone's eyes, including Chanâs, go back to the screen, but you stay still. Should you follow after him right now? Itâll be too suspicious, but do you really care?
You wait until the scene changes, as to not seem too obvious, and fake a loud yawn.
âSorry guys I think I'm calling it a night,â every move you make, you make sure to do it slowly, to show how tired you are, âI donât wanna fall asleep on the couch.â
As you take a few steps, Jihyun calls for you, âBut itâs about to end!â
âOh! Iâve already seen it itâs fine,â you lie as you face the hallway again, your back turned to Jihyun so your face doesnât expose you.
You can hear her voice saying something like liar! You wanted to watch it! But you donât turn back, because you can see Mingyu waiting by his door. He's about to speak but you run and smash your lips with his before he can utter a word.
Your bodies are so tangled together you stumble backwards, but luckily Mingyu manages to catch you before you fall and turns you both inside his room. With his hand pillowing your head, he pins you against the now closed door and you both laugh lightly at your clumsiness. But as soon as your eyes land on each other again, itâs like youâre both hypnotized because your mouths attach again like magnets.
His hair feels soft between your fingers, long enough for you to tug at it lightly. He groans against your mouth and now itâs your turn to smirk. That ignites something in him, because he presses you against the wall at the next tug you give him.
Heâs everywhere. His thighs intertwined with yours, his firm chest against yours, one hand on your waist and the other on your neck.
The feeling of his lips is addicting, and now that youâve finally tasted him you never want to go back. His mouth glides over yours with familiarity, like itâs something he's been doing for years, like he knows exactly how to get you head over heels for him.
You chase his lips as he steps back just a little, and you instantly miss the warmth of his body. The only light source in his room is the moonlight beaming though the window, but itâs enough to admire Mingyuâs messy hair and blood red lips. Your hands stay around his neck and his on your waist, neither of you wanting to stop touching the other.
A strand of hair blocks your view for a second before he brushes it back and tucks it behind your ear.â
âDid you mean all that?â Not his words, but his actions. Kissing you. Did it mean the same for him as it did for you?
âI've been wanting to do that for days,â his hand caresses the side of your face gently and you lean into his touch.
His lips are on your again without warning and you melt at his touch, giving in to him. His lips guide yours slowly, taking his time savoring you. Every move of his has a purpose, every deliberate touch makes you more needy for him.
He's in total control, caging your body against the door, pressing himself against you so you feel his almost fully hard dick against your upper thigh.
His mouth travels down to your neck and makes you gasp, leaving damp kisses on your sensitive skin. Your hands play with the hem of his black t-shirt, and you feel his smirk against your neck. His hands travel all around your body, from your neck to your back to your waist and your ass. You feel him everywhere every second and the heat inside you intensifies per second.
The only thing on your mind is having him. Your hands start lifting his shirt up, he smirks against your lips before separating briefly to take it off and slip his shoes off. You do the same.
You barely get a glimpse of his shirtless body before heâs on you again. Lips on lips, skin on skin, your insides pulsate with need feeling every muscle of his against you. His biceps tense under your touch when he picks you up by your thighs effortlessly.
Legs wrapped around his waist, Mingyu walks with you on his arms towards his bed. He makes sure to drop you softly before getting on top of you. His mouth finds your neck again as he lets you feel his hard bulge against your core. You grind against him, eliciting a moan out of the both of you, but itâs not enough.
With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you press him further against you. Even with the layers of clothes between you, his length grinds deliciously against you, the friction causing the heat inside you to fire up and the idea of having him inside releases a wave of arousal.
âMingyu!â You intend to draw his attention, but he grinds against you again and it comes out like a moan. He hums against your skin and your fingers on his hair and back encourage him further. His hands roam your body until they reach your poorly clothed chest, but the lousy fabric doesnât stop him from groping with excitement.
âMingyu take off your pants.â You manage to grab his head to make him look at you, and he follows immediately.
You take your pants and bra off easily and prop on your elbows to admire him while he struggles to take his off. His frustration makes you chuckle, but his defined muscles distract you quickly. You saw him in just swim shorts days ago, you knew what to expect, but it still shocks you how broad his shoulders are, how his pecs flex at the tiniest movement. The size of his biceps are probably three times the size of yours.
When he finally throws his pants away, he aims to get on top of you again, but you think ahead. You move to the side, so he drops on the bed, and you get on top of his big thighs. The little fabric between you allows you to feel just how hard he is under you, hitting all the right places, making you moan while wetness gushes out of you.
Your hands travel slowly through his chest, fingers tracing his muscles, torturing him with your slow pace and making him squirm at your touch. His little sighs and whines are music to your ears, reaching the deepest parts inside you and ruining your panties more and more.
Proud of the effect you have on him, you grind softly and feel his hard twitch under you. But your fun doesnât last. Mingyu grabs you by the neck and lowers your body until your faces are millimeters apart, keeping your hands from moving. He attempts to kiss you, but you grind on him again, causing him to moan in your mouth.
âYouâre making me crazy,â his lips graze yours when he speaks, and you have to fight every internal scream telling you to kiss him back.
âGood.â You smirk as you shimmy down until your core is no longer sitting on top of his, leaving kisses down his neck while your hand travels down to palm him.
He sighs when your hand sneaks under his underwear to feel his now fully hard cock. Your hand barely wraps around him as you slide it up and down his length slowly, smearing the precum coming out from the tip.
Every little reaction Mingyu gives you encourages you to continue. Every moan when you squeeze harder, every whine when you pay attention to the tip, every sigh when you leave tiny bite marks around his clavicle, where no one else would be able to see them, but hopefully you.
Your wrist works hard as you notice Mingyuâs breath getting heavier and faster, and the fire inside you becomes impossible to ignore.
âDo you have a condom?â You ask as you slowly stop your movements. The ache between your legs keeps you from concentrating on anything else. If he wanted to, he could slide right in with how wet you are.
âMaybe,â the raise of his eyebrows tells you heâs up to no good and you look at him questioningly, âthereâs something I gotta do first.â He slots between your legs with a smirk, hands on both sides of your waist and mouth getting closer to your ear.
âGonna make you cum so hard you wonât even know your name.â His lips leave a trail of kisses below your ear to your mouth, and you sigh as he connects your lips once again. His hands go down and spread your thighs, taking his time grazing and groping everywhere between your inner thighs except for where you want him the most. You can only sigh and push him more against you, still in shock from his previous words.
One hand ghosts over your somehow still clothed core and you try to grind against it, but he moves it away with a chuckle.
âI need you,â you gasp when his hand presses against your pussy, fingers running up and down your lower lips and teases your hole through your panties, âplease Gyu,â the nickname slips out of you with a moan.
âWhatever you want baby,â the not so accidental pet name goes straight to your core, too wet by now.
Mingyu starts a trail of kisses down your jaw to your boobs, paying especial attention to them while helping you out of your panties. You try to press against him, now fully naked, but he pins your hips down with force.
His head goes down leaving wet kisses on your skin and making you needier and needier until he reaches your pulsing core.
âYouâre so wet already,â he kisses all around, teasing you endlessly as his hands pins you down so you donât grind up to him, and his breath fans over your wet hole making you shiver, âso needy for me.â
âI swear if you donât st-Fuuccck,â his tongue flattens on your core mid-sentence, slowly licking up and down, drowning any thought you might possibly have. He dives into you with no intend of stopping any time soon.
The dreamlike scenario of his head between your legs is in no way comparable to reality. He switches between swirling his tongue around your clit and teasing your entrance, drinking up all the juices you give him.
It's embarrassing how fast youâre getting to your orgasm with just a few minutes of him working you up. You tremble as he tortures your clit with his tongue once again, sucking on it lightly almost making you scream. You donât care how loud you are, and he loves how you sound, how you moan uncontrollably because of him.
His hair is all disheveled because of your hands, tugging and pressing him closer to your core. He moans as he tastes you, sending vibrations through your whole body.
When you close your legs unconsciously around his head, he spreads you again with force, keeping you from shivering and adding newfound energy to tip you over the edge.
âFeels s-sso good Gyu oh my god,â his tongue teases your hole as his nose perfectly grazes your clit. Your mind is so numb you keep mumbling praises you canât understand, the only thing you know is your orgasm is so close to snapping, you can almost see it, hear it, taste it.
You tremble in his hold, and he knows youâre close. Your hands on his hair keep him in place as you grind on his face, intensifying everything. He moans as you use him, and the vibrations finally make you snap.
Your legs tremble as his tongue licks you clean of the mix of saliva and your juices. It's when it becomes too much for you that you push his head back, and the sight leaves you more breathless than you already were. His chin is covered in your arousal and his lips are swollen from the work theyâve done.
His head stays on the lower side of your body, kissing your inner thighs as you recover. You can only watch him, his hands touching and massaging every part of your legs he can reach, his lips so close to your core, but teasing around where youâre starting to need him again.
âYou look really pretty like this.â His words send shivers down your spine.
âSo I usually donât?â He halts his movements as you tease to look you in the eye but continues after he takes notice of the teasing tone.
âYou are always pretty,â you throw your head back against the pillow at his words, âevery second of every day,â the kisses on your inner thigh come closer and closer to your core, already gushing with need.
His lips ghost over your folds as he backs away just the tiniest bit to reveal his index finger moving towards his mouth. His eyes connect with yours as he licks his fingers, and the sight almost blocks your airways. You donât want to stop watching but when his wet finger starts circling around your clit slowly, your eyes shut instinctively.
You feel him collecting your juices when he suddenly dips his finger into your hole. You moan at the intrusion but heâs quick to remove it and heâs back at circling around your wet clit.
He does the motion a few times, finger in then quickly out, circles around your covered clit with the freshly collected juices, and repeat.
âplease" only a broken whisper leaves your mouth as your hand stops his movements. Your eyes connect with Mingyuâs after what feels like hours of teasing, and you can see a little smirk forming before following your needs.
His two fingers enter you slowly, letting you feel everything until heâs knuckle deep inside you. Youâre so wet and needy from the foreplay that they just slide in.
He stretches your velvety walls perfectly, with a pace hard and deep that has you moaning uncontrollably.
When he finds that perfect spot that has you seeing stars, your hand jolts down to keep his in place and his fingers start abusing your gspot mercilessly. You almost scream when he adds a third finger inside you, squelching sounds filling the rooms with your moans as you get closer and closer to another orgasm.
Your walls begin to spasm around his fingers, letting him know that you're close once again. With your hand freeing his, he thrusts sharper into you, even if your walls close hard around them pushing them out.
All 5 senses explode within you when you feel his tongue toying with your clit again and your second orgasm hits powerfully. His hands help keep you in place as he maintains his movements, prolonging the orgasm as he pleases.
He licks his fingers clean as he climbs on top of you again. Your haze connects with his and you canât look away as he removes his digits from his mouth and directs them to yours. Almost robotically, you open your mouth to welcome them and lick them clean without breaking eye contact. The mix of your juices and his saliva spike something within you. Your gaze turns to fire as you grab Mingyu by the neck and pull him towards you. Your lips connect with his fingers in between, both of you licking then clean as the same time. Your tongue plays with his fingers, finding his tongue doing the same and intertwining.
Entranced by you, Mingyu backs away once more and can only watch as you lick his fingers like it was his cock. Your eyes still meet his as you swirl your tongue around and eventually stop with a pop.
The speed of light doesnât compare to how fast Mingyu crashes his lips with yours again. He grabs you by the waist and flips you both so now his back is against the headboard and you're sitting on top of him. His lips guide yours lazily as his hands travel around your naked back, and when you moan when he grinds up to you, he has to stop before he cums straight away.
Youâre still recovering from the earth-shattering orgasm he gave you to speak, and he just looks at you with a little smile growing on his face. He pecks you sweetly, but when you donât respond he worries.
âAre you okay?â
âIâm more than okay,â you chuckle as you feel your face turning pink, âyou were kind of a beast down there, I need a second.â
âI could do that every day if you let me,â he sounds way too enthusiastic as he begins a trail of wet kisses on your neck. A moan escapes you when his hands find your breasts and your wetness uncomfortably starts to stain his boxers below you.
âTake these off.â You grab the waistline of his boxers to draw Mingyu's attention away from your neck and it works. He slips them off at the speed of light and you're back on top of him.
Your wet folds finally come in contact with his cock and you both moan at the feeling. With his hands on your waist, he aims to kiss you, but you surprise him by grinding on him and he moans on your mouth, your lips barely touching. His veiny cock grazes against your clit deliciously, clouding any coherent thought you may have. Mingyuâs just as gone as you are, with his hands playing with your boobs and your juices wetting his entire cock, he might just be in heaven.
âIâll cum If you keep going like that,â Mingyu has half the mind to speak up. Itâs a warning, but you take it as a challenge.
âWhat if thatâs what I want?â You wrap your arms around his neck as best as you can as you slowly keep grinding on him, trying to hide the fact that it has as much of an effect on you as it does on him, maybe even more.
âHmm I donât think thatâs what you want.â His left-hand sneaks between your bodies as the other plays with your nipple and you halt your movements. His fingers quickly find your clit and press on it with a little force, making you gasp.
âYou can have anything you want, if you just ask.â His hands pleasuring you everywhere simultaneously blur your mind. You canât find it in you to form a coherent sentence, so you resume your grinding. It's so slow you can feel every drag against you, every vein against your wet folds, his tip perfectly against your clit. You want nothing more than to feel him inside you, stretching you until your walls are shaped like him.
âNeed you inside,â your words come out more of a gasp than anything, âplease.â
Mingyuâs hands stray away from your body, quickly reaching the small packet that was waiting on his nightstand and rips it open as you move away from his cock to give him some space. He rolls the condom on swiftly and you stop yourself from jumping on him.
His hands on your waist and yours on his shoulders to stabilize you, you slowly sink on his length. Yours and Mingyuâs moans synchronize as his cock stretches your walls, filling you up until you feel him on your throat.
When you completely sink down on him, he reaches so deep you almost have trouble breathing, reaching places youâre just now discovering. You stay still as your gummy walls hug his length tightly, trying to get used to the new stretch. Sensing your hesitation to move, Mingyu kisses you softly, both of you melting into the otherâs touch. Your arms wrap themselves around his neck for the millionth time, like theyâre meant to be there until the end of time, and the slight movement causes Mingyu to shift inside you.
His lips muffle your moans as one of his hands sneak back down to stimulate your clit once again. His fingers draw circles on you, you can feel your arousal dripping onto him, and little by little, the stretch stops stinging, the feeling replaced by want and need.
Using his body to support you, you lift your hips slowly. His low groans fill your ears as every vein drags inside of you deliciously.
Without warning, you sit back with force, getting a moan out of the both of you. His lust filled eyes watch you in awe as his hands grab your ass while youâre repeating the motion. The addictive hitting of his cock inside you almost makes you not notice how tired youâre getting.
Mingyu stops you once you sink down again, embracing you with his arms and pulling you towards him. Your chests are flushed together again as he kisses you deeply, his tongue quickly encountering yours, and he flips you over.
Your back hits the mattress and he's between your legs again. He begins a slow pace, thrusting into you until his pelvis barely touches your swollen clit and then almost all the way out. The pace continues to be torturous until he finds the spot heâs been looking for and you almost scream, egging him on to hit it again and again and again.
With force, every thrust of his hips has you seeing stars. You canât control your noises any longer, even mumbling a few phrases you canât quite decipher, but that Mingyu seems to like.
The bed squeaks and hits the wall repeatedly but neither of you care. With your legs wrapped around his waist and your nails digging on his back, you can only think about the tight knot on your lower stomach about to burst.
His face is so close to yours, but neither of you have the mind to do anything other than moan in each other's mouths. Any sound you make, he replicates, blessing your ears and sending waves of pleasure to your already so close body.
Your walls are tightening so hard that Mingyu has trouble keeping up his fast pace, but after telling him how close you are, he starts pounding on you so hard you have to hug him so stay in place. Caged between your arms and legs, Mingyuâs body is glued to yours, his hot skin burning him on you as he drills your insides and blurs your brain.
ây-youâre so t-tight, pleasse tell me youâre cl-close,â his words barely register on your mind and your brain canât work out a response, so he makes sure you hear him by putting his mouth next to your ear, but never stopping pounding into you, âare you fucked dumb already?â
His words shoot straight to your core, pulsing tight around him. Mingyu tries to muffle a moan by chuckling, but you already know the effect you have on him.
âs-so close Gyu, wish you-â you clench around him around him as you say, âwish you could come inside.â
Mingyuâs hips stutter at your words, and he has to slow down his pace to not cum right that second, but doesnât miss the chance to play your little game, âyouâd like that wouldnât you? Me filling you up until youâre so full you start dripping?â His lips leave a trail of goosebumps below your ear, giving you a few kissed around your neck before going back up to look you in the eyes as he continues his tortuously slow thrusts.
âYes yes I want it so bad,â you have no idea if what youâre saying makes any sense, but the smirk Mingyu shows is worth it.
âYou wouldnât waste a single drop right?â his thrust become hard and pointed after you nod eagerly, hitting your gspot with force after every word that leaves his mouth, âI'd stuff it back into you, and youâd be a good girl and keep it in.â
The pet name combined with the sharp thrusts send you over the edge embarrassingly fast. Without warning, youâre cumming on Mingyuâs cock, moaning all kinds of nonsense, squeezing him so tight itâs hard for him to delay his own orgasm. His thrusts donât stop, stretching you orgasm and chasing his, and in no time, you feel his dick twitch inside you as his hips stutter with a moan.
He stills inside you, body draped over yours as you both recover. You're so tired your eyes start closing on their own, but Mingyu sliding out of you wakes you up instantly, triggering a quiet moan out of your throat.
You donât want him to leave, and he catches your worried eyes as he gets up, âIâm going to grab a towel to clean up, I'll be right back,â he reassures you with a soft hand on your thigh.
After he hands you a clean towel, he gets back to the bathroom to clean himself up.
Alone in his bedroom and all cleaned up, you scan around after grabbing his big t-shirt to wear. It's obvious this is the room he uses in their frequent family visits, judging by the framed photos and the few posters on the walls. Even with only the bedside table lamp on, except the clothes recently scattered around the floor, you can see you clean and tidy the room is, his clothes are packed neatly, only a few items still on his desk.
âThat looks nice on you,â Mingyuâs voice startles you, and you find him watching you from the bathroom door.
âThanks, itâs some guysâ, you probably donât know him.â He chuckles, walking towards the bed as you tuck yourself in.
âAnd who is this mystery guy?â Mingyu asks as he get in bed behind you, embracing you in his arms with your back against his chest.
âItâs this guy whoâs totally head over heels for me,â you turn around in his arms to find him smiling, âand I really like him too.â His eye wrinkles appear as his smile widens, but you donât notice as youâre too shy to look at him again after your confession.
âHeâs really lucky then.â Mingyu, aware of your shyness, grabs your chin and makes you look at him, âdo you really?â The question freezes you in place as lock his serious gaze. Heâs dying of nervousness inside, worrying about you, and him, and the two of you.
âYes,â your voice comes out small and careful, but it relaxes him, âI really do like you Mingyu.â
No words can describe the burst of emotions Mingyu feels as those words leave your mouth. He can only hug you tighter and aim to kiss you, but you turn your head away laughing.
âHey hey hey! What about you! Iâm not letting you anywhere near me until you give me an honest reply!â You find yourself play fighting with this giant man for like three seconds before he pins you down.
âFunny thing to say while youâre in my bed, wearing my shirt,â your hands are trapped by his on both sides on your head, heâs all you can see, and you have no choice but to look him in the eyes. âI know I shouldâve said it before, but I really like you too, Iâm most comfortable when Iâm with you, Iâve never felt like this before and I donât want this to be a quick fling between us.â
His confession has your stomach doing flips and turns, your blood rushing to your cheeks and ears, and your smile to wide it almost hurts. âThat's what I wanted to hear.â
DAY SEVEN
Mingyuâs arms now rank first as your favorite place to sleep ever.
After making each other repeat their confessions multiple times â mostly you, but he found he loves the way you blush every time you say you like him â and kissing lazily while wrapped around one another, time flashed by and sleepiness got to the both of you.
The culprit of waking you up from your dream forcefully is Mingyuâs damn alarm, ringing and ringing somewhere in his room. You turn a couple of times, trying to locate his phone without getting up, but itâs pointless.
âMingyuuuu your phone,â your voice echoes alongside the annoying alarm as you try to wake him up.
âHmm sorry,â his raspy voice barely reaches you as he gets up and grabs his phone from the pocket of his pants laying on the floor.
He quickly gets back under the covers, wrapping his arms around you and snuggling against you, both of you too awake by now to get back to sleep.
Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his chest rising and falling behind you and his hand caresses your waist through his t-shirt. You lay your hand over his as he kisses your neck softly.
âGood morning beautiful.â Youâre too trapped in his embrace to turn around and face him, but you get to hide the blush that creeps up your cheeks at his words.
âGood morning.â Being wrapped around Mingyuâs warmth is addicting, his touch, his smell, his skin. How did you live all these years without them? âShould we get up? Everyone is probably awake by now.â You really donât want to, but sadly you canât stay here forever.
âWe will, we will,â his hands wander lower and lower on your body, contradicting his words, until they reach the hem of your his shirt and sneak inside to caress your bare skin as he keeps kissing your neck, âare you not wearing-â
The sentence is left unfinished, his state of shock loosens his hug and youâre able to turn in his embrace, cocky smile on your face as he tries to figure you out.
âOh, I mustâve forgot!â Mingyu joins you in a chuckle, hugging you tightly again and bringing your face towards him. Lazily kissing him, with your limbs intertwined and a little morning sleepiness, everything makes you so dizzy, already needy for him.
His tongue breaches into your mouth, messily dancing with yours as his hand pushes your shirt up and sneak to your core.
You donât stay still. With your hands you touch and grope every spot of his torso you can reach, earning a few sighs from him, and you slowly start grinding on his hand, coating his curious fingers with your arousal.
Mingyu moans in your mouth when your hand catches his growing bulge, trying to be as quiet as possible in case anyone awake wanders your way.
âYouâre gonna be de death of me.â His raspy whisper shoots straight to your core, but you canât give him a proper reply, his lips go back to yours to shut you up as his fingers run through your wet folds.
Both of your hands work wonders on the other, your hand sneaks under his boxers to stroke him properly while he toys with your clit. Itâs getting more and more difficult to quiet down the sounds coming from your mouths, your mind barely able to remember that task as the fire inside you stomach arises.
A knock on the door freezes you both in place. You stop breathing, locking eyes with Mingyu, waiting for the unannounced person to speak up. He looks as scared as you probably are as you both wait.
Another knock makes you get away from one another, and the ruffling sounds draw the attention of the one outside the door.
âAre you awake bro?â Chan asks through the door, luckily not opening it. Your eyes emanate panic as you evaluate every possible outcome for this interaction, but Mingyu motions for you to calm down.
âHmm yeah, what do you want?â He pretends to just wake up, feigning a loud yawn.
âYou know where y/n is? Sheâs not in her room and Jihyunâs looking for her.â Now Mingyu panics too, trying to come up with any excuse, no matter how lame.
âI donât know bro, maybe sheâs in the bathroom.â Definitely the lamest excuse ever, but it seems to work.
âRight, right, Iâll tell her that, but get up bro! Weâre leaving in like an hour!â
âOkay! Iâll be right out.â
You both stay still, listening as his steps get farther and farther until thereâs silence again.
âWe really should tell him about us, he wonât be mad.â He sounds serious as he picks up your clothes from the floor.
âTake me out on a date first!â You snatch your clothes from his hands as you both chuckle. How would a date with Mingyu go? Outside of this bubble you created, everything could be different, but the change excites you.
The drive back to the city is full of laughter and songs, just like the first day. This time Chan managed to get on the passengerâs seat first, leaving you sitting next to Jihyunâs curious eyes and separating you from Mingyu.
You feel much better than on the first day. Relaxed, with less weight in your shoulders, and a really hot man making eyes at you through the rear view mirror.
Mingyu leaves Chan and Jihyun at his house first, saying itâs more practical to drop them off first and then you. None of them argue about it, and Jihyun throws a wink your way as you get on the passengerâs seat.
âYou know, yesterday Jihyun asked me about us, she says everyoneâs suspicious.â You mention when he parks in front of your building.
âThatâs funny, cause Chan asked me today too, he intercepted me as soon as I got to the kitchen.â He replies and gets out of the car, leaving you hanging for a few seconds before opening your door.
âReally?â Mingyuâs grabbing your bags while youâre dying of curiosity behind him. âAnd what did you say?â
He chuckles as you walk towards your building, car locked and your bags still in his hands. He only answers once you get to the elevator.
âI told him⊠that I really like you.â A smile cracks wide on your face. Youâll never get tired of him saying that.
âAnd did he seem okay with it?â You quickly reach your floor and head to your door, anxiety creeping up on you at the thought of Mingyu being inside your apartment.
âYeah! He even seemed kind of happy,â you stand by your door just watching him expectantly and he seems confused by your stillness, âare we coming in?â
âOh yeah just, itâs a little messy Iâm sorry, I wasnât expecting to have guests you know.â You turn your door handle slowly, waiting for him to nod before fully opening it.
You walk in slowly, watching his every move and reaction as he steps behind you. He gives it a quick look around before crouching to leave your bags on the floor and walking towards you.
âI like your place, itâs so⊠you.â His arms wrap softly around your waist, and yours instinctively around his neck.
âHow do you know? Weâve know each other for like seven days.â Youâre not strangers, you told him stuff youâd never tell anyone else, but you've also known him for a very short amount of time.
âI just know.â The sweet smile he give you melts you in place, if it werenât for his arms surrounding you, youâd probably fall onto the floor. âAnd I really want to make that time longer, I meant it when I said forever.â
And he proved to you, time and time again during those seven days, that his words are always true. You have no reason not to trust him, and you always will.
i really hope you liked this >.< share your thoughts!
taglist: @gaslysainz @soffiyuhh @oneandonlyluvv @gyuwoosbabie sorry for the wait
#mingyu au#mingyu smut#seventeen au#seventeen smut#svt smut#kim mingyu smut#kim mingyu au#seventeen fluff#mingyu fluff#kim mingyu fluff#mingyu imagine
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Push Your Luck -
Jackson!Joel Miller x Female Reader
Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.
Summary: You loved lying with Joel and listening to his music, but tonight, your need for him was impossible to ignore. So you decided to pushâjust a little. Maybe tonight, you would be lucky.
Word count: 2.6K
Warnings: established relationship but readerâs first sexual encounter with Joel, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected P in V sex, pulling out method as a form of contraception (be safe, don't be like them), descriptions of arousal and masturbation, fluff, smut, general filth, dirty talk, grumpy!joel, a dash of soft!joel, jackson!joel, cum, saliva, pet names (honey, baby, darlin'). No use of Y/N. Mood board is for aesthetics only; the reader's features aren't specified.
A/N: This was inspired by these images by @elliespuns, which have been playing on my mind and making me feral. Enjoy!
Joel's room was warm, the gentle crackle of his old records filling the quiet space with the soft hum of Johhny Cash. You were both sprawled on his bed like usual, your right leg resting over his rough jeans, a comfortable mess of limbs. The quiet between you wasnât awkwardâjust the kind of stillness that comes after the world outside has been shut out for the night.
Joel had one arm tucked under his head, his other hand resting on the curve of your hip. His thumb absentmindedly traced lazy circles on your skin. But what he didnât knowâwhat he was completely unaware ofâwas that those small, soft touches were driving you insane. Each pass of his thumb sent ripples of heat straight to your core, making it impossible to think about anything other than how badly you wanted him.
Every time his skin grazed yours, your body responded, a subtle shift of your hips, a quiet shudder in your breath. The warmth of him pressed against you, the solid weight of his body beside yoursâit only made the ache between your legs grow sharper.
You bit your lip, fighting the urge to move, to press yourself against him, to grind your hips just enough to get some relief. You wondered if he could feel the heat rolling off your body, the throbbing need emanating from between your thighs.
His gaze was distant, fixed somewhere on the ceiling, lost in thoughts you couldnât quite reach. There was always that slight hesitation in him, a part of him that held back, even when you were this close.
You shifted slightly, turning toward him, your fingers playing with the buttons of his flannel shirt. Joelâs breath hitched, and you noticed how his muscles tightened under your touch.
Without saying anything, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of his jaw. His stubble brushed your lips, rough and familiar. He closed his eyes as if surrendering to the moment, even if just for a second.
âJoel,â you whispered against his skin, the sound of his name more of a comfort than a question. Your lips moved lower, trailing a path down his neck, slow and deliberate, feeling his pulse beneath your mouth. He exhaled, a sound caught between a sigh and a groan, his hands resting on your hips as if he was trying to hold himself back, trying to keep some semblance of control.
His shirt was already half undone, so you pushed it open the rest of the way, revealing his thickly tufted chest. He was broad, built from years of hard work and survival, but there was a softness there, too, a gentle curve to his belly that you adored. His skin was smooth but scattered with old scars and faint marks, each one telling a different story of a life lived in a world that hadnât been kind.
Your lips found the base of his throat again, lingering there for a moment before you started your descent. You trailed tender kisses down his chest like drops of rain rolling down weathered stone.Â
âWhat are you doinâ?â He asked, almost sounding annoyed.
You didnât answer, instead you dragged your tongue across his pec, feeling the way his breath caught as you moved lower, tasting the salt on his skin. His chest rose and fell beneath your lips. He tensed as you kissed down to his belly. You nipped at the flesh there, teasing him, hearing the low growl that rumbled up from his throat, a warning or maybe an invitation.
Your hands gripped his sides as you made your way down, slow and purposeful, your lips grazing the faint trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. The heat radiating from his body was intense, pulling you in. His scent was raw and earthy, a mix of leather and something so uniquely Joel âit was all so intoxicating.
Youâd never gotten past this point without him tugging you back, always stopping you before things could go any further. He was the one who kept that line drawnâheld it tight.Â
When you reached the top of his jeans, you slid off the edge of the bed to settle between his legs, your bare knees sinking onto the rug beneath you. Your lips pressed to the spot just above where the denim began, breathing him in more.
His cock already strained against the fabric of his jeans, the outline thick and urgent, demanding attention.Â
It would be rude not to oblige.
You unbuckled his belt slowly and undid his jeans, your fingers brushing against him as you pulled back the fabric. He let out a deep breath as you ran your hand over him, feeling the heat, the need that he was trying so hard to hold back. âRelax,â you murmured, freeing his cock out of the waistband of his boxers. âLet me take care of you.â
Your hands gripped his thighs as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the base of his cock. He groaned, his hand coming to tangle in your hair, not pulling, just holding, as if he wasnât sure if he should let you continue. âBaby, you donât have toâŠâ Joelâs voice was rough, strained with the effort of keeping himself in check, but you could hear the desperation in it, the way his words trailed off as you licked a slow, teasing line up the length of him, tasting him. You looked up, meeting his gaze as you took him into your mouth. His hazel eyes darkened as you started to move, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive underside before taking him deeper. Stop being so nice, you wanted to say to him.
âFuck,â Joel hissed, his head falling back as you set a steady rhythm, your hot mouth working him over with a practised ease that had him groaning, his hips jerking up involuntarily. You loved the way he responded to you, the way his body betrayed the control he tried so hard to maintain, the way he was falling apart under your touch.
You took your time. You wanted him to feel good. The soft clink of his belt was a monotonous beat to your movements. Joelâs fingers clung onto your hair, sending pleasant tingles to your scalp, his grip tightening as you increased the pace, taking him deeper, feeling him grow harder in your mouth. His moans filled the room, his voice a low, desperate sound that made you so wet. You could feel him getting close, his body trembling as he fought to hold back. âShit,â he gasped, trying to pull back, but you didnât let him. You wanted to give this to him, to let him lose himself in the pleasure, to show him that with you, he didnât have to be in control all the time.
He was big, bigger than you were used to. Your eyes stung, tears blurring your vision as you fought to take him deeper, every inch of him filling your mouth so well. It was intense, and the mess only made it betterâ you could feel the sloppy trail of your saliva running down his shaft, gathering around your fingers as they gripped what your mouth couldnât take, desperate to keep up with the size and the pace.
A mixture of your spit and his precum pooled at his base, slick and messy, dripping down onto his jeans. You think he liked seeing you like this, eyes watering, lips stretched around him, struggling to take all of him in. The way his cock throbbed told you as much, each twitch between your lips as you hollowed your cheeks, his size pressing against the back of your throat.
âYeah, filthy little mouth... takinâ it all like that,â he muttered, more to himself than to you.
And there it was.You knew he couldnât be a gentleman with you all the time.
Your jaw ached, your throat tightened, and you could feel your body rebelling, but the thrill of it kept you going, pushing you to take more, to make him feel every desperate, hungry inch of your mouth. You took him as far as your body would allow until you were gagging and forced to draw back, spluttering for air.
His cock glistened, throbbing in your hand as you stroked him slowly, dragging out every second of his pleasure.
âChrist... you are a filthy thing, arenât ya,â he rasped, his accent thick as the words rolled off his tongue.Â
The way he looked at you like you were the most depraved, beautiful sight heâd ever seen sent a wave of heat straight to your aching pussy. Fuck he was so handsome. You could feel yourself dripping, your own arousal pooling between your legs, soaking through the fabric of your panties, desperate for any sort of relief.
You smiled up at him, lips still wet and swollen from where youâd had him, your eyes gleaming.Â
The way you lookedâsweet, sinful, shamelessâ made something flash in his eyes and his cock twitch in your hand.
âDonât go lookinâ at me like that,â he muttered, voice low and rough, the warning in his tone almost lost in the sheer need coursing through him. But you didnât back down, didnât look away, just smiled wider, eyes locked on his, waiting to see how far heâd let you push him before he broke.
âWhat, you like suckinâ cock or somethin'?âÂ
You didnât flinch. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, licking your lips as you held his gaze, your hand still lazily stroking his length.
âOnly yours,â you whispered, your voice husky as your thumb swirled around the tip of his cock again, collecting more of that wetness. You leaned in, letting your breath ghost over him, close enough that he could feel the heat of your mouth, but just out of reach, playing with him, making him wait for it.
The low groan that rumbled from his chest told you everything. His grip in your hair tightened, that roughness in him rising up again.
âOnly mine,â he laughed, half under his breath, letting his head fall back against the bed. âYouâre gonna be the death of me,â he groaned, hips jerking forward, pushing his cock closer to your waiting lips, telling you he didnât want you to stop. Not now. Not ever.
Your lips parted, and you took him in again, slow and deep, letting him feel just how much you wanted him. Your hands gripped his thighs, fingers digging into the hard muscle, anchoring yourself as you moved faster.
His hips moved with you now, fucking your mouth with deep thrusts, each one bringing him closer to that sweet release you both craved.
You could feel him losing it, his body taut, every muscle straining as his cock pulsed harder against your tongue. He was closeâso fucking close.
You stood up and hiked up your dress, the fabric bunching at your hips as you climbed on top of him. Your knees sank into the mattress on either side of his broad body. He barely had time to catch his breath before your hands were on his chest, and you were grinding down against him, your soaked panties brushing against the hard length of him.
Joelâs eyes widened just a fraction, that flicker of surprise quickly replaced by raw need as he felt your heat. His hands instinctively came up to grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh, urging you on. You didnât waste any timeâyour hand slipped between your legs, pulling your panties to the side, exposing yourself to him, wet and ready.
You lined him up, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance, teasing, torturing him for a moment before you sank down onto him in one quick motion. The stretch was immediate and intense as he filled you completely, every thick inch of him sliding deep inside you. Your breath hitched, a low moan escaping your lips as your walls clenched around him, taking him in until there was nothing left to take.
âGoddamn, honey,â Joel groaned, voice strained as he felt you squeeze him. His head tipped back, jaw clenched.Â
You didnât give yourself a chance to adjustâyou started moving, rolling your hips, grinding down on him, taking him deeper with each thrust. You braced your hands on his chest, fucking him harder, faster with everything you had. His cock pulsed inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every movement, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned, head falling back as you lost yourself in the feeling of him inside you.
âJesus Christ,â Joel rasped, a hand bunching your dress, his other gripping your ass now, pulling you down harder onto him, guiding you, urging you to take it harder. His hips bucked up to meet your movements, fucking into you from below.
âFeels good, doesnât it?â you whispered, voice low, teasing, grinding your hips against him slowly, making sure he felt every needy inch of you, how wet you were for him. âYou love being deep inside my pussy, Joel⊠donât pretend otherwise.â
He groaned, fingers digging into your hips, his breath coming out ragged, but he couldnât muster a response.
âYou like watching me take it all, donât you?â you continued, leaning down so your lips hovered just above his, your breath hot against his skin. âSeeing how fucking desperate I am for your cock. You feel that?â
A deep growl rumbled in his chest. âFuck⊠I feel it,â he strained, âKeep talkin' like that and I ainât gonna last, darlinâ.â
You smiled wickedly, rolling your hips in that slow, teasing rhythm, feeling every inch of him stretch you, fill you up in a way that made your whole body tremble. The heat between your thighs was intense, a clawing, pulsing ache that begged for more. You moaned, the sound low and breathless, your hands gripping his chest for balance as you rocked your hips again, the friction of your clit rubbing against the roughen hair at the base of his cock, sending shocks of pure bliss through your whole body.
âGod, you feel so fucking good inside me, Joel,â you moaned. Every movement had you teetering on the edge, the way his cock brushed against that spot deep inside that made your legs shake.Â
âOh, fuck!â Your voice broke, shaking as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling and breathless. Your hands clung to his chest and flannel for support as you rode out the aftershocks, your thighs quivering around him, your release coating his cock as you ground down on him, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.
Joel groaned, clearly on the edge himself, his cock throbbing as you tightened around him, making it harder for him to hold on. His breath came in ragged bursts.
âShitâgotta pull out,â he growled, pulling out his cock.
His grip tightened as he lifted you just enough, sliding out of you, his cock twitching desperately. The sudden emptiness left you still aching with need, but you watched as he grabbed himself, stroking fast, desperate, along his thick shaft.
He moaned, deep and guttural, as he came hard, hot ropes of cum spilling across his hairy stomach. His chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven breaths as the last of his release dripped from the head of his cock on to the mess heâd made of himself.
âSee, wasnât so bad, was it, Joel?â you teased, your voice full of satisfaction.
âDonât push your luck,â he grumbled.
divider credit to @saradika-graphics
#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller one shot#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#jackson!joel#game joel miller#audio fanfiction#joel miller audio
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Thank you for all of the stories recently! Can you do one where Lando gets tired of you calling him âLittle Lando Norrisâ and decides to show you how big he really is?
L.L.N II Lando Norris âœâ
SUMMARY: Lando doesn't mind you making fun and playing games just as long as you're aware of the truth...and he'll be more than happy to remind you.
WARNINGS: **18+**
A/N: Got some good news so felt inspired to write again ;) Sorry for the delay.
"Aww poor little Lando." You jokingly patted him on the back. "Better luck next time buddy." you laughed as you walked away leaving him fuming.
Once again you'd beat Lando for 3rd place by merely a few seconds, an ongoing rivalry between you both that had everyone at the edge of their seats.
Ever since karting you and Lando had this heated rivalry, always making the other's life impossible and being each other's biggest competition so it was no surprise when it continued onto Formula 1.
To the outside world, it was incredibly entertaining for everyone to see the rivalry between the two of you. The rude remarks and snarky comments you threw at each other during interviews, the hate between you two only brewing stronger with each race.
But little did people know the way you were able to keep the hate at bay and keep yourselves in check. It had all started as a stupid drunk mistake when you found yourselves fucking in a club bathroom. The memory was hazy but you both remembered enough to know that deep down you liked it.
The next time it was a simple rash decision, you didn't think about it when you found yourself waking up in Lando Norris's room naked his arm across your waist, quickly throwing it off before running back to your room.
It was good. The sex was good, and that was the only reason you kept coming back. That's what you both told each other.
But it had become a frequent occurrence now, almost 5 months of quick and meaningless fucks where you could let out the pent-up tension and anger you had for each other.
But this still didn't take away from the fact that you still loved to piss each other off on track. Secretly you'd grown to love doing it more because you felt the direct consequence of it later.
"Lando, how do you feel about yet another close battle today with your biggest rival on track?" The interviewer asked him.
"Yeah, she just got lucky getting the better line around the next corners, but she knows I'm not one to back down, she knows what's coming for her," Lando smirked loving the double meaning behind his words.
He could see you a few feet from him giving your own interview. He just about heard you when once again you'd referred to him as Little Lando Norris, something you'd taken to recently which just irked him a little more than usual.
He watched you carefully, keeping his eyes on you like a hawke which to everyone else looked like pure hatred but truly it was simply because Lando could see the way Pierre got a little too friendly with you for his liking.
Lando would never admit it to you but he truly couldn't control the jealousy that erupted in his stomach whenever he saw you get too friendly with anyone. Whatever you had might have been meaningless but as far as he was concerned you were still his for now.
"Alright thanks, Lando enjoy your break." Lawrence finalized the interview with Lando outside the McLaren hospitality just as he could see you walking out of the press conference room with Pierre quickly by your side.
He didn't hesitate as he stood up with a quick step towards you. His blood boiling when he heard you laugh at something Pierre said.
"I need to talk to you." Lando stood in front of you making you stop abruptly and bump into his chest.
"Oh look hey speaking of the devil." You smirked.
"Little Lando Norris." Pierre joked but for some reason, Lando didn't find it the least bit amusing coming from him.
"Okay well can't talk now so bye." You were about to move past him but Lando grabbed your arm.
"Wasn't asking." Lando was ready to pull you away with him but was stopped by Pierre who grabbed your other hand.
"I actually just asked her for a drink so-" Pierre was quick to tell Lando.
"So she can't right now." Lando didn't let him finish or you protest before whisking you away.
You were completely taken aback as Lando shamelessly dragged you away from Pierre not caring the way there were several eyes on you as he took you towards the McLaren building.
Your heart pounded in your chest rendering you speechless as he walked you all the way into the building past several staff members before reaching his room where he was quick to shut you both inside.
"Lando what the-" you finally regained your voice as the door closed behind you.
"Shut up." Lando pressed his lip to yours as he pressed you to the wall. You had to push through the rush that invaded your body trying not to give in so easily.
"Lando, what has gotten into you?" You asked breathlessly as Lando began kissing down your neck unbuttoning your jeans and dragging them down
"So it's just Lando now?" was all he said.
"What are you- ah fuck." before you could reply again you cut yourself off when Lando began ruthlessly attacking your clit.
Lando basked in the pleasure he could produce on you loving the way you became putty in his hands behind closed doors despite the way you loved to tease him and take control outside.
Lando's pants suddenly felt painfully tight as he continued his attack on you taking the liberty he unbuckled his pants all while still tasting you before pulling his dick out into his hands to give it a few pumps.
Lando didn't stop, not until you had your first orgasm before finally getting up. "Why don't you return the favor baby?" Lando asked despite knowing he didn't have to since you were on your knees before he could even finish asking.
You prepared yourself knowing the ache you would feel from sucking him off having to open wide to take him into your mouth. Lando's eyes showed the smugness in them at watching the way you always struggled initially to take him never able to take him all down until you'd sucked him off for a while.
Lando groaned as you began moving your head up and down, your hands taking care of what you couldn't fit in your mouth for now.
"Nothing so little about that is there?" Lando asked the pride clear in his voice.
Only now did you understand what this was all about but you didn't care to complain since he'd gotten you all worked up.
"Why don't you make it extremely clear for me." You decided to try to have your own way.
"Gadly baby." Lando pulled you up before picking you up and using the wall to support you in his arms before using one of his hands to line himself up against your whole.
"Please-" You pleaded, Lando loved the way you begged every time he got near you like these.
"you ready?" he asked despite feeling your wetness already drip onto him.
"Yes, please fuck me." You sighed as you grabbed Lando's face to kiss him.
Lando used this distraction to push himself all the way inside you swallowing your yelp. "Shit baby you're so wet," Lando whispered knowing he had to keep semi-quiet because of the remaining staff in the building right now. Although half of him hoped everyone could hear what you were doing and the way he was making you feel right now...make it crystal clear to everyone.
"Ah, fuck Lando go faster." You begged him as Lando pushed in and out of you fully and completely at a brutally slow pace.
"Who's making you feel like this baby?" Lando asked not answering to your pleas just yet.
"You Lan...You are." You could almost cry at the torturous pace he'd set.
"not even fucking Pierre can make you feel like this can he?" His words were laced with disgust and anger which made your stomach flutter.
"No...no just you." You replied kissing Lando once again.
This was enough for Lando as he picked up his pace feeling the way you clenched around him and the way you struggled to keep quiet.
"Fu...so good...shit" You moaned in a whisper as Lando kept thrusting faster and faster into you against the wall.
Lando could cum at the sight of you, watching the way your tits would bounce with each thrust, the way your eyes rolled back, and hearing your uneven breaths as you tried to keep quiet while your orgasm quickly approached, feeling the way you held onto him as if your own skin was begging for more. This was it. This was glory to Lando.
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1#f1smut#smut#f1 one shot#f1 smut#f1fic#formula 1#changetyre#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#ln4
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lovely kook!reader tries her hardest to avoid her ex bf!rafe, yet they unintentionally meet at the country club after her sudden disappearance from kildare island about a year ago
content / ex bf!rafe x fem!reader, lowkey toxic, rafe confronting reader, public arguing, reader lowkey hates kooks, topper and kelce being nosy, 2.1k words
notes / this is the start of my lovely kook!reader x rafe cameron (x jj maybank) trope, inspired by my own fanfic that I published on wattpad. prob not gonna line up with everything in the fic and might differ when it comes to the relationships or dynamics. storyline is roughly set around s1 but I pictured s2/s3 rafe while writing, feel free to imagine him however u want tho! enjoy <3
It had been one long, strange year since you had set foot on Kildare Island. The same roads, the salty ocean breezeâeverything felt frozen, like a picture stuck in time. But as you watched the streets of Figure Eight again, you knew that things were different now, at least for you.
There was a time when youâd loved this place, every privileged corner of it, but that had all died the day youâd left, slipping away in the quiet night without saying goodbye to anyoneânot even Rafe.
Rafe. Just thinking of him made your chest tighten. You definitely tried not to, but back home, it was almost impossible. He was everywhereâin every memory, in every spot that used to feel safe.
You knew youâd see him eventually. But you definitely had no intention of rushing it.
But your first stop was Sarah Cameron. The Sarah who used to be your best friend. You didnât even make it up the driveway of your house before she came running toward you, her face full of shock.
The second you hugged, both of you started crying. It felt like the past year melted away. But when she pulled back, the hurt was obvious.
âWhy didnât you tell me?â Sarah sniffled, her voice both angry and broken. âWhy didnât you tell anyone?â
Your throat tightened as guilt washed over you. âI couldnât. There was too much⊠too much happening, Sarah. I didnât want anyone else to get dragged into it.â
âAnd you think you didnât hurt anyone by just leaving?â Sarahâs voice was calm, yet the pain in her eyes was obvious. âYou hurt me, and Rafeââ
âDonât,â you cut her off, the hurt in your own voice surprising you both. âPlease.â
For now you didnât want to think of him, you just wanted to do right by Sarah.
The two of you ended up on the porch, watching the sun dip low as you talked. You opened up as much as you could, and Sarah told you about all the wild things that had happened with her family. But there were things she wouldnâtâmaybe couldnâtâsay, not even to you.
But it was obvious that things were different in Sarahâs life now. Sure enough you werenât the only one who had changed.
The next day, you found yourself sitting stiffly in the backseat of your parentsâ car as they drove to the country club. You stared out the window, jaw clenched, as you passed the huge mansions of Figure Eight. Youâd spent your whole life around the âkooks,â but now, after a year away, their high life facades and fake smiles felt even more unbearable. You could already hear the insincere âhow have you beensâ that would spill from every corner of the club.
Your parents acted as if nothing had changed. As if youâd never vanished in the first place. Your mom wouldnât stop babbling, going on about the latest news, updates from the other families you knew, parties youâd missed. All with that same flawless smile, the one you had once tried so hard to mimic, until you realized it was just another mask.
âWonât it be nice to be back?â Your mom asked brightly, as if you had simply been on a long vacation.
You forced a sweet smile, refusing to answer. You didnât want to be âback.â You didnât want to slide into this carefully molded life again, pretending to care about who had bought the newest yacht or who was dating whom. It was all so hollow, so far from the girl youâd become in your time away.
When you reached the club, its grand facade loomed over you, just as fake as the people inside. You spotted a few familiar faces, people who hadnât changed at all. You doubted theyâd even care to ask where youâd been or why youâd left. To them, youâd simply slipped right back into place.
Your dad gave you a proud smile, like showing you off could fix the cracks in your familyâs perfect image. But you knew better. You were just another dime in their collection, and that was all they wanted from you. The real youâthe one whoâd been through hell and backâdidnât exist in their world.
Determined not to fall back into their trap, you straightened up and walked to the bar, hoping to blend in. Luckily, you spotted Mark, the club bartender and an old friend. You two exchanged a few words, Mark catching you up on the most recent gossip of Kildare, but in the back of your mind you still had this uneasy feeling, the thought of running into Rafe made your stomach hurt.
You were almost starting to relax when you heard a familiar voice behind you.
âIsnât that y/n?â It was unmistakableâTopper.
Anxiety hit you, wondering if Rafe was with him, but when you turned around, your eyes met Kelceâs instead. You felt relieved while you gave them both a small wave. Topper and Kelce had been part of your life in Figure Eight once upon a time, more Rafeâs friends than yours, but youâd spent enough time around them that you knew you could at least handle a quick one on one with them.
âY/N,â Kelce greeted, his surprise melting into a friendly grin. âBack from the dead, huh?â
You smiled a little at that, nodding. âSomething like that.â
Topper gave you a little grin, shaking his head as if still trying to process that you were actually standing there. âYou know, no one knew what happened to you. You just⊠left.â
âYeah, I know.â You forced a smile. âI guess I had my reasons.â
You exchanged a few more words, and you could feel their eyes flickering to each other, as if they wanted to ask more but were holding back. It was strangeânormally, theyâd be all over you for details, but now, they seemed rather calm. And then, suddenly, they went completely silent.
âWhatâs wrong?â You asked, glancing between them, suspiciously raising your brows.
But you didnât have to wait long to find out.
âY/N.â Rafeâs voice sounded from behind you, low and dark. You cursed under your breath, clenching your jaw before forcing yourself to turn around.
There he was, standing a few feet away, his ocean blue eyes locked on you. For a moment, he looked shocked, like he couldnât believe you were real.
âRafe,â you replied just as blunt, fighting to keep your voice steady, though you could feel your heart hammering in your chest.
Topper and Kelce glanced between you, clearly uncomfortable, before they mumbled something about getting drinks and made a quick exit, leaving the two of you alone.
You stared at each other for a long moment, he looked good. Really good. His hair was slightly longer, the blonde tips hanging over his forehead.
Staring at him for a little too long you saw a flicker of something in his eyesâregret, maybe?âbut you brushed it away. You couldnât afford to let him get under your skin again. Not after what went down between you.
âSo, what, you just fucking waltz back into town like nothing happened?â he asked, his voice laced with anger.
He stepped closer until you were nearly face to face. You could smell the hint of whiskey on his breath, mixed with his signature cologne. It brought back a flood of memories that youâd fought to bury.
âYou just..,â he sighed, as if he was trying to pick his words rather carefully, but not being able to contain his anger âYou like fucking with me, donât you?â
You lifted your chin, your voice edged with a coldness Rafe hadn't heard before. âWhat did you expect me to do, Rafe? Stick around after everything you pulled? After what you⊠made me do?â
He frowned, his jaw tightening as he processed your words that felt like a slap to the face. âMade you do? I didnât make you do anything.â he echoed, his voice rising. âDo you even get how messed up it was, just disappearing like that? Leaving everyone behind, leaving ME behind without a word?â
A sarcastic laugh slipped from your lips. Arguing in public like this definitely wasnât your plan, but at this point you didnât care. âThatâs the thing with you, Rafe. You donât even realize the damage you cause, do you?â
He flinched, trying to hide the twitch of his jaw, but you caught it. For a moment, you almost felt a bit of pity for him. Almost.
âWhat happened, y/n?â he asked softly, his voice almost sounding vulnerable, caught off guard by the force of your resentment. The old you he remembered had looked at him like he was the one, but the woman in front of him nowâwas a stranger.
âWhereâd you go? Why didnât you tell me?â
âTell you?â You repeated, your voice sounding bitter. âI didnât owe you any explanations. I did what I had to do to protect myself.â
âFrom me?â he shot back, his voice cold. âThatâs what you think, huh?â
You bit your lip, hating that he could still get to you, hating that despite your anger, some part of you still felt drawn to him. But you wouldnât let him see that. âYou canât change the past, Rafe. Just⊠stay out of my life.â
For a moment, he just stared at you, his anger fading into something like pain. But then it was gone, replaced by the hard mask he always wore. He took another step toward you.
âYou think you had it all figured out in that pretty little head of yours, huh? You run away and pretend itâs all my fault?â
You watched him get closer, yet not letting it phase you âMaybe it is. Or maybe we were just bad for each other. Either way, Iâm not letting you drag me down again. Not this time.â
His face twisted, and you could see the realization in his eyesâyou werenât the girl he once had wrapped around his finger, not anymore.
You released a shaky breath, the adrenaline slowly draining from your body. Youâd known coming back to Kildare wouldnât be easy, but facing Rafe again had torn open wounds you thought youâd closed for good.
But you surely wouldnât let him break you again. Youâd fought too hard to build yourself back up, and you werenât about to throw all of that away.
You were done running.
With that, you turned away from him, forcing yourself not to look back. Rafe just stared at you, and for the first time, he felt a sense of what heâd lost. He wanted to reach for you, to say something that might make you stop. But he didnât.
find all other parts here!
feel free to request anything for lovely kook!reader x rafe in my inbox !!
tags đ·ïž @gibson-g1rl @rafesangelita @rafescokewhore @rafesweetie @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms @starkeysprincess @starkeydolly @beausling @seasons-of-death @sematarygirls @dolcekissy @moremaybank @httpsdrewstarkey @t6urusmoon
#writers on tumblr#lovely kook!reader x rafe cameron âË Â°#rafe cameron x you#rafe obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#dating rafe cameron#rafe cameron#outer banks fic
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Halloween - Beautiful Girl series (18+)
Hiiiii - how is this the 2nd full length fic for Beautiful Girl? Anyways in honour of Halloween, hereâs a (not-so-)little smutty fic for yall. Shout out to the anon who gave me the inspiration - I loved writing this. If anyone has any more ideas, please let me know.
Alexia Putellas x reader
Description: It's Halloween and Alexia forces herself to watch a scary movie with R, regardless of what R says.
Word Count: 9k
TW: Smut, 18+, cock warming, a nightmare
Beautiful Girl masterlist
Maybe watching a scary movie wasnât the best idea after all. Or maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what you needed. You werenât so sure anymore. On one hand, you couldnât deny that it pained you a little to see Alexia so scared, her usual confidence crumbling with every jump scare and every gruesome scene. But on the other hand, the way she reacted to the horror unfolding on the screen had you completely captivated. As the movie progressed, she had inched closer and closer to you â an impressive feat considering she started the movie with her head on your chest, your wrapped around each other. Her arms tightened around your waist each time something startled her â her grip being almost painful. The way she clung to you, seeking comfort and protection, stirred something deep within you.
Her scent was intoxicating; soft, warm coconut that filled your senses and made it hard to focus on anything else. You found yourself torn between wanting to reassure her and the thrill of having her so close. Every time the tension in the movie built, you could feel her body tense up against yours, her breath hitching in anticipation. And when the inevitable jump scare happened, she would let out a quiet whimper, the sound soft and vulnerable, before burying her face into your neck, seeking refuge from the terror on the screen. Her eyes would screw tightly shut, and you could feel her eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.
It was impossible to think about anything else. All you could focus on was the warmth of her body pressed against yours, the way her soft hair tickled your cheek, and the rhythm of her breaths as she tried to steady herself. You wanted to be her protector, to make her feel safe, but at the same time, you couldnât help but enjoy the way she needed you in that moment. Maybe watching a scary movie wasnât the best idea, but with Alexia so close, it was hard to think of a better one.
âAre you sure, beautiful? We donât have to watch horror just because itâs Halloween,â you said, your voice laced with concern as you studied her expression. âThere are plenty of spooky movies, or even just kid ones that we could put on instead,â you suggested, offering a safer alternative as you looked into her eyes. Despite the dim lighting in the room, you could see the determination in her gaze as she pressed the remote into your hand, a small smile playing on her lips.
âI am sure, mi amor,â she replied, her voice dripping with confidence, but you couldnât help noticing the slight quiver in her tone that betrayed her nerves. You hesitated, unsure whether to trust her bravado. You knew Alexia well enough to know that horror movies were far from her favourite. In fact, she usually avoided them like the plague, preferring the comfort of romantic comedies or feel-good dramas. Horror had never been her thing, and you respected that. You never wanted to put her in a situation that would make her uncomfortable, especially when it came to something as trivial as a movie.
But there she was, insisting on watching one tonight. Halloween had its traditions, and perhaps she felt a certain pressure to partake in the spooky festivities. You, on the other hand, didnât mind horror. It wasnât your go-to genre by any means, but you could enjoy a good scare when the mood struck. Still, the thought of subjecting Alexia to something that might genuinely frighten her made you pause.
âAle,â you began softly, trying to gauge her true feelings. âI know you donât usually like horror movies. We really donât have to do this if youâre not comfortable. Halloween or not, Iâm happy to watch whatever you want.â
She shook her head, her smile widening as she leaned in closer to you. âNo, I want to try it,â she said, her voice steadying as if convincing herself as much as she was you. Her eyes sparkled with a blend of excitement and uncertainty, a rare combination that made your heart flutter. âBesides,â she added, her lips curving into a teasing smile, âyouâll protect me, right?â
The way she looked at you in that moment, a mixture of vulnerability and trust, made your heart soften instantly. How could you ever say no to her? âOf course I will, my beautiful girl,â you murmured, your voice filled with affection. The promise felt as natural as breathing, a vow to keep her safe, even from the imaginary horrors that would soon flicker across the screen. Youâd face a hundred nightmares if it meant she felt secure in your arms.
With a playful glint in her eye, she gently pushed your shoulders back, guiding you to recline against the cushions. The next thing you knew, she was climbing on top of you, settling herself comfortably against your chest. Her head found its usual resting spot over your heart, the rhythmic beat beneath her ear soothing her racing one.
You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close, the warmth of her body pressed against yours grounding you in the moment. She let out a contented sigh, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your chest as she nestled in deeper, as if the very act of being so close to you was enough to chase away any lingering fears. You could feel her breath steadying, matching the calm rhythm of yours, and you knew that no matter what happened in the movie, sheâd be safe and sound right here with you.
âSee?â she whispered, her voice muffled slightly against your chest, âAlready feeling braver.â Her words were laced with a gentle teasing, but there was also a sincerity behind them that touched you deeply. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, your lips brushing against her hair, breathing in that familiar coconut scent that always made you feel at home.
âGood,â you whispered back, your voice barely above a murmur, âbecause Iâve got you, always.â She responded with a soft hum, a sound that was full of contentment and trust, vibrating gently against your chest. It was a sound that told you everything you needed to know, that in this moment, she felt safe with you, that she believed in your promise.
You let the silence linger for a moment, enjoying the closeness, the way her body moulded perfectly against yours. But as your hand hovered over the remote, a flicker of concern resurfaced in your mind. You couldnât shake the urge to double-check, to make absolutely certain she was okay with what was coming next.
âYouâre sure?â you asked gently, your thumb poised over the play button, ready but hesitant. You wanted her to have an out, a chance to change her mind before the movie started. You were more than willing to switch to something else, something that wouldnât leave her on edge or make her uncomfortable.
âSĂ, mi amor,â she replied, her voice steady and full of resolve, yet still carrying that softness that you loved so much. âI am sure.â Her words were firm, but there was also a warmth in them, a reassurance that she was ready.
You were barely 10 minutes into the movie when you felt her shift on top of you, her body tensing as the ominous music swelled on the screen. The shadows and flickering lights of the film created a sense of unease that even you, with your higher tolerance for horror, could feel creeping into the room. But it was Alexiaâs reaction that caught your attention more than anything else. Without a word, she moved closer, almost instinctively, pressing her face into the curve of your neck, seeking comfort in your warmth.
Her breath was shaky, the soft exhale brushing against your skin as she tried to steady herself, but you could tell the movie was starting to get to her. The way her fingers gripped your arm just a little tighter, the way her body seemed to curl into yours for protection â it all signalled that the horror on screen was pushing her limits. Your heart ached at the thought of her enduring something that made her this uncomfortable, even if she was doing it out of sheer determination.
âAle, baby,â you began softly, your voice gentle as you tilted your head slightly to speak into her hair. âWe donât have to watch this.â You were ready to reach for the remote, ready to switch to something light and fun, something that would bring back the ease and laughter you loved sharing with her. But before you could move, she tightened her hold on you, her head still nestled firmly against your neck.
âNo, no, I am fine, mi amor,â she insisted, her voice a bit muffled but still carrying that stubborn edge you had come to know so well. There was a hint of resolve in her words, a determination to prove to herself â and maybe to you â that she could handle this. But the tremor in her voice didnât escape your notice, and you couldnât help but worry that she was pushing herself too far.
âAle ââ you murmured again, this time with a little more concern, hoping to persuade her to take a step back, to remember that there was no need to be a hero tonight. You wanted her to enjoy this, not endure it, and the last thing you wanted was for her to suffer through something she didnât have to.
But before you could say more, she cut you off, her tone light but firm. âShush, I am watching the film,â she said, her words almost playful, though you could hear the underlying tension. Her stubbornness was both endearing and exasperating, and you couldnât help but let out a small sigh, half in amusement, half in resignation.
You knew when Alexia set her mind to something, it was nearly impossible to sway her. It was one of the things you loved about her â her fierce determination and strong will â but right now, all you wanted was to pull her out of this self-imposed challenge and back into the safety of something she enjoyed. But as you felt her burrow deeper into your embrace, you realised that maybe, just maybe, this was her way of facing her fears, and she wanted to do it while feeling the reassurance of your presence.
So, you sighed softly, letting your concern ebb away just a little, though you remained vigilant, ready to call it quits the moment she gave you any real sign that it was too much. You tightened your arms around her, pulling her just a little closer, as if to shield her from whatever horror the screen might throw at her next. If she wanted to face this challenge, youâd be right there with her, her protector in every sense of the word.
You were about 20 minutes from the end of the film, and the tension in the room was nearly unbearable. Each passing minute seemed to heighten the anxiety, not just on the screen but in the very air around you. You could feel it in the way Alexia clung to you, her body pressed so tightly against yours that it was as if she was trying to merge into you, seeking refuge from the horrors unfolding before her eyes. The soft tremors in her body had grown more pronounced, her every breath a shaky struggle to maintain control.
It wasnât just the way she held onto you that gave her away; it was the way her breath hitched, the way her chest stuttered with each sharp inhale. You could sense the tears welling up, threatening to spill over, and it broke your heart to see her like this. She was trying so hard to keep it together, to convince herself â and you â that she was fine, but it was clear that she was on the verge of breaking down.
âBaby, please,â you urged softly, your voice filled with concern as you turned your attention away from the screen and fully focused on her. âLetâs just turn it off. Câmon, youâre terrified.â You reached for the remote, ready to end this ordeal and bring her some relief. You couldnât stand the thought of her enduring this any longer, especially when there was no need for it.
But before you could press the button, she shook her head, her voice trembling as she tried to brush off your concerns. âN-no, Iâm not,â she insisted, though the quiver in her tone betrayed her. âEverything is fine, mi amor. Just watch your film.â There was a desperate edge to her words, as if she was trying to convince herself more than you.
Your heart twisted at her stubbornness, knowing full well that she was anything but fine. Her pride and determination were admirable, but they were also keeping her trapped in a situation that was clearly too much for her to handle. You wanted to respect her wishes, but you couldnât ignore the signs â the way her body trembled, the way she seemed to shrink into herself with every new jump scare, every disturbing scene.
âAle,â you began again, your voice firmer this time as you tried to reason with her. âThereâs no point in torturing y â â
âI am fine, mi amor.â She snapped before you could finish, her words sharp and defensive, cutting through the air between you. Her tone was laced with a mix of frustration and desperation, as if she was clinging to the last shreds of her resolve. She pulled away from you just enough to look up, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears, her expression one of fierce determination. But beneath that determination, you could see the fear, the anxiety that was eating away at her composure.
Her response left you momentarily stunned, and you could see the conflict in her eyes. She wanted so badly to be strong for you, to prove that she could handle this, but it was clear that she was reaching her breaking point. You knew her well enough to understand that this wasnât just about the movie anymore â it was about her pride, about not wanting to seem weak or vulnerable in front of you.
But you didnât care about any of that. All you cared about was her well-being, and you couldnât stand the thought of her suffering through this just to prove something that didnât need proving.
You softened your gaze, your expression full of understanding and compassion. Gently, you reached out and cupped her face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. âAle, you donât have to do this,â you said softly, your voice filled with tenderness. âI donât care about the movie â I care about you. Thereâs nothing to prove here, beautiful. Iâd much rather stop this and see you smile than watch you force yourself through something thatâs hurting you.â
For a moment, she didnât say anything, just looked at you with those wide, tear-filled eyes. The tension between you seemed to hang in the air, thick and heavy, until finally, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She let out a shaky breath, her stubborn resolve crumbling as she leaned back into you, her head resting against your chest once more.
âI just⊠I didnât want to ruin it for you,â she whispered, her voice small and full of the vulnerability she had been trying so hard to hide.
You held her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, your heart aching for her. âYou could never ruin anything for me, Ale,â you assured her, your voice gentle but firm. âYour comfort and happiness mean more to me than any movie ever could. Letâs turn this off and do something that makes you feel good, okay?â
She nodded against you, her grip on your shirt loosening slightly as she allowed herself to relax, to let go of the pressure she had been putting on herself. With a relieved sigh, you grabbed the remote and finally turned off the movie, the silence that followed almost immediately easing the tension in the room.
âCan⊠can we have a shower and just go to bed?â Her voice was small, almost fragile, as she lifted her head from your chest, her eyes still glistening with the remnants of tears. The earlier determination had given way to exhaustion, and all she wanted now was the comfort of something familiar, something soothing to wash away the tension that had built up throughout the evening. Her request was simple, but the vulnerability in her tone made it feel like so much more â a plea for comfort, for reassurance, for the safety that only you could provide.
âOf course we can,â you responded immediately, your voice tender as you brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. You wanted to make sure she felt completely at ease, so you added gently, âDo you want me to shower with you, just be in the room, or do you want to be alone?â You didnât want to assume anything, knowing that right now, she needed to feel in control, to have things go exactly the way she wanted.
But before you could even finish asking, she was already nodding, her eyes earnest and pleading as she whispered, âTogether.â The word came out almost like a sigh of relief, and you could see how much she needed your presence, how much she craved the closeness and the comfort that only your touch could bring.
âOkay, together it is,â you said softly, giving her a reassuring smile. You rose from the couch, helping her to her feet, and you couldnât help but notice how drained she seemed, the tension of the evening still lingering in the way she moved. As you guided her towards the bathroom, you asked another gentle question, knowing how much she loved your care in these moments. âHair wash or not?â
She looked up at you, her eyes softening as she considered the offer. The thought of your hands in her hair, massaging away the stress of the night, clearly appealed to her. âWash, por favor?â she replied, her voice quiet but hopeful. There was something so endearing in the way she asked, as if she knew how much you loved pampering her and was giving you the opportunity to do just that.
âAnything for you,â you murmured, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. The simple act of caring for her, of helping her wash away the remnants of the nightâs fears, filled you with a sense of purpose and love.
Together, you made your way to the bathroom, the anticipation of the warm, soothing shower already beginning to calm the both of you. As the water started to stream from the showerhead, you helped her out of her clothes, your touch gentle and loving, careful to make her feel cherished. She stepped into the shower first, the warm water cascading over her, and you followed close behind, wrapping your arms around her from behind as the steam enveloped you both.
She let out a small, content sigh as the water washed over her, and you could feel some of the tension start to melt away from her body. You reached for the shampoo, lathering it in your hands before gently massaging it into her hair, your fingers working through the strands with care. She leaned back into you, her eyes closed as she allowed herself to fully relax, the sensation of your hands in her hair bringing her the comfort she had been craving.
âThank you,â she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the sound of the water. But you heard her, and the gratitude in her tone made your heart swell.
âThereâs nothing to thank me for,â you replied, your voice just as soft. âI love taking care of you.â
You continued to wash her hair with slow, gentle movements, making sure to ease out every last bit of tension. It wasnât just about the physical act of washing away the stress; it was about being there for her, supporting her, and reminding her that she was never alone, no matter what.
Once her hair was thoroughly rinsed, you turned her gently in your arms so she could face you. The steam curled around you both, creating a little cocoon of warmth and intimacy. You reached up to brush a few droplets of water from her cheeks, your touch tender as you looked into her eyes.
âFeel better?â you asked softly, your voice filled with love and concern.
She nodded, a small, tired smile tugging at her lips. âMuch better,â she whispered, her eyes shining with appreciation. âI donât know what Iâd do without you.â
âYouâll never have to find out,â you replied, leaning in to kiss her, a slow, lingering kiss that spoke of all the love and care you felt for her. The warmth of the shower, the closeness of your bodies, and the gentle exchange of affection all combined to create a moment of pure peace, a sanctuary from the fears that had haunted the night.
When the shower was finally over, you helped her dry off and wrapped her in a soft towel, taking extra care to ensure she felt warm and secure. You could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her body seemed to lean into yours for support, and you knew it was time to get her to bed.
You led her to the bedroom, helping her into a clean, comfortable pyjama top. She sank into the bed with a sigh of relief, her body finally able to fully relax. You slipped in beside her, pulling the covers over you both as you wrapped her in your arms once more.
As she nestled against your chest, her head resting in her favourite spot, you could feel the last of the tension slip away, replaced by a deep, contented calm. The horrors of the movie, the fear and anxiety â it all faded into the background, leaving only the warmth of your shared closeness.
âGoodnight, my beautiful girl,â you whispered, pressing a final kiss to her forehead as she drifted off to sleep.
âBuenas noches, mi amor,â she murmured back, her voice already drowsy, filled with the comfort and security she felt in your arms. And as you lay there, holding her close, you knew that this â this simple, intimate moment â was all that really mattered.
It was 5 a.m. when you awoke, the quiet stillness of the night broken only by the soft rustling of the sheets. The room was dark, with only the faintest sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the bed. At first, you were disoriented, unsure of what had pulled you from sleep. But then you felt it â the way the mattress shifted beside you, the way the blankets tugged slightly as if caught in a struggle.
You turned your head, your heart quickening as you realised it was Alexia. She was lying next to you, but something was wrong. Her body was twitching, her limbs jerking in restless, erratic movements that seemed almost out of her control. It was as if she were trying to escape something, her legs kicking out and her hands grasping at the sheets, searching for something to hold on to.
Your concern deepened as you heard her soft whimpers, barely audible but full of distress. âPor favor, no,â she murmured, her voice trembling with fear. The words were slurred, muffled by sleep, but the desperation in them was unmistakable. âPara, por favor,â she pleaded, her breath hitching as if she were trying to catch it between sobs that hadnât yet escaped. âNo me hagas⊠No puedoâŠâ
Your heart broke at the sound of her voice, so full of helplessness and fear. It was clear she was caught in the grip of a nightmare, reliving something that was causing her immense pain. You reached out, your hand hovering just above her, unsure whether to wake her or not. You wanted to pull her out of whatever dark place her mind had taken her, to reassure her that she was safe, but you also knew that waking someone from a nightmare could sometimes be disorienting, even frightening.
âMi amor,â she whimpered again, her voice cracking as if she were on the verge of tears. âAyudarâŠâ The last word was a desperate plea for help, and you could feel your own heart ache in response. There was no more hesitation â you couldnât let her suffer through this alone, not when you were right there beside her.
Gently, you placed your hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze as you called her name. âAle,â you whispered, your voice calm and soothing, trying to bring her back to the present, back to you. âBeautiful, wake up. Itâs just a dream. Iâm here, youâre safe.â
At first, she didnât respond, her body still caught in the throes of the nightmare, her breathing fast and shallow. You squeezed her shoulder a little more firmly, your thumb brushing against her skin in a comforting gesture. âAle, itâs okay. Iâve got you. Wake up, baby.â
Slowly, her movements began to still, the jerking of her limbs easing as your voice started to reach her. Her eyes fluttered open, but they were wide and unfocused, as if she were still caught between the nightmare and reality. She blinked rapidly, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps as she tried to orient herself.
âShh, itâs okay,â you murmured, sliding your hand down to gently cup her cheek, guiding her gaze to meet yours. âIt was just a bad dream. Youâre safe now. Iâm right here.â
She looked at you, her eyes slowly beginning to clear as she registered your words, your presence. A shuddering breath escaped her as the realisation hit, and she let out a soft sob, her body collapsing against yours as if all the strength had drained out of her. You wrapped your arms around her immediately, pulling her close, cradling her trembling form against your chest.
âItâs okay, Ale,â you whispered, your voice full of reassurance as you stroked her back, trying to soothe the fear that still lingered in her. âYouâre safe. Iâm here, and Iâm not going anywhere.â
She buried her face in your chest, her hands clutching at your shirt as if afraid to let go. You could feel the wetness of her tears soaking through the fabric, and it only made you hold her tighter, as if your embrace could shield her from whatever horrors had haunted her sleep.
âLo siento,â she choked out, her voice muffled and raw with emotion. âI didnât mean to wake you.â
âDonât apologise,â you replied gently, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. âYou didnât do anything wrong. Iâm just glad I was here to wake you up.â
For a while, the two of you simply lay there, her body gradually relaxing in your arms as the terror of the nightmare faded. You continued to whisper soothing words, your hands moving in slow, comforting circles on her back, until her breathing finally steadied, the tension in her muscles releasing as she melted into you.
âDo you want to talk about it?â you asked softly, knowing that sometimes sharing the fear could help it lose its power.
She shook her head slightly, her voice still trembling as she replied, âNo⊠I just want to forget it.â
She looked up at you with those big, hazel eyes, the ones that had a way of speaking directly to your heart, conveying emotions that words could never fully capture. In those eyes, you saw a mixture of vulnerability and longing, a silent plea that reached out to you with an intensity that made your breath catch. Â They told you everything you needed to know.
âPlease, mi amor,â she whispered, her voice soft and full of a tender desperation that tugged at your heartstrings. Her lips were slightly parted, still a little swollen from the way she had been biting them in her sleep, the remnants of fear lingering in the way they trembled ever so slightly. Her cheeks were flushed, a soft, rosy hue that had nothing to do with the nightmare that had shaken her awake and everything to do with the way she was looking at you now â with a mixture of need and trust, a desire to be comforted and held, to be taken away from the remnants of the dark dream that still clung to her.
âMake me forget it?â she asked, her voice barely more than a breath, yet filled with a yearning. It wasnât just the nightmare she wanted to forget; it was the vulnerability it had exposed, the fear that had left her feeling raw and exposed.
You could feel your heart swell with a protective tenderness as you gazed down at her, taking in the sight of her beautiful face framed by the tousled strands of hair that had escaped during her restless sleep. Her cheeks, flushed with a soft pink, were warm under your touch as you gently cupped her face in your hands, your thumbs tracing light, soothing circles against her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, leaning into your touch, seeking the solace she knew only you could provide.
âHow, my beautiful girl? What do you need from me?â you asked, your voice a soft murmur as you gazed down at her. The warmth in your tone was matched by the tenderness in your eyes, a look that was full of love and patience. You wanted to give her everything she needed, to be exactly what she was asking for, but you needed her to tell you, to be open about her desires. It was something you had been working on together, trying to get her to express herself more freely, to not be afraid of telling you what she truly wanted.
She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking away from yours as if searching for the right words. You could see the conflict in her expression, the way she bit her lip in thought, her cheeks flushing slightly with a mix of shyness and anticipation. The sight was endearing, and it only made you more determined to coax her into speaking her mind, to assure her that there was nothing she couldnât ask of you.
âYou,â she finally whispered, her voice quiet but filled with a longing that resonated deep within you. âI just need you.â
Your heart swelled at her words, the simplicity of them carrying so much weight, so much emotion. It wasnât just about physical desire; it was about the connection between you, the way she trusted you, needed you in a way that went beyond mere words. But even though you were more than willing to give her everything she wanted, you knew this was an important moment for her to take that extra step, to be specific about what she truly craved.
âAnd you have me,â you vowed, your voice steady and full of reassurance as you reached out to take her hand. You held it tightly, giving her a gentle squeeze, a silent promise that you were there, that you would always be there for her. But you knew she needed to go further, to put into words the desires that she had kept hidden, the ones that she was still learning to voice. âBut I need specifics, beautiful. I need you to tell me exactly what you want.â
She hesitated again, her fingers tightening around yours as she gathered the courage to speak. You could see the internal battle she was waging, the way her mind was working to overcome the last remnants of hesitation, the lingering fear of being too forward, too demanding. But you waited patiently, giving her the space she needed, knowing that this moment was crucial for her.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds, she looked up at you, her hazel eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. There was a flicker of something deeper in her gaze, something raw and unfiltered, and it made your heart race in anticipation of what she was about to say.
âYour cock,â she said eventually, her voice barely above a whisper, but the words carried a weight that made them impossible to ignore. âI want to sit on your cock.â
The directness of her words sent a jolt of desire through you, but more than that, you felt a surge of pride and affection. She had said it â she had opened up to you, voiced her desire without holding back, and that was a victory in itself. You could see the blush spreading across her cheeks, her eyes searching yours for a reaction, for reassurance that she hadnât overstepped, that she hadnât done something wrong.
You gave her hand another squeeze, your thumb brushing gently over her knuckles as you leaned in closer, your voice low and full of promise. âAnd you will,â you murmured, your gaze locking with hers, letting her see the desire, the love, the unwavering commitment in your eyes. âIâm going to give you exactly what you want, my beautiful girl. Iâm going to take care of you.â
Her breath hitched slightly, her lips parting in anticipation as she realised you meant every word. You could feel the tension between you, the electricity that sparked in the air as you brought your free hand to her cheek, cupping it gently as you leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brushing of lips that quickly deepened as she responded, her body pressing closer to yours as if seeking the warmth and comfort only you could provide.
You could feel the heat building between you, the way her body instinctively moved closer, seeking out your touch, craving the connection you shared. But you didnât rush, didnât push her â this was about her, about giving her the time and space to fully embrace her desires, to feel comfortable in expressing them.
When you finally pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes half-lidded with desire as she looked up at you, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss. You could see the anticipation in her gaze, the way she was waiting for you to make the next move, to take the lead in this dance of intimacy.
âGo get the strap for me,â you said, your voice steady and filled with a mix of authority and encouragement. And choose either the purple one or the dark red one â they should be in the top drawer. When youâve picked it, take off your knickers and leave them in the basket, then come back.â Your instructions were clear, but they were also laced with an invitation, a chance for her to make a choice that would tailor the experience to her preference.
She nodded, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of eagerness and curiosity. There was a certain glint in her gaze, a spark of excitement that indicated she was ready to embrace what was coming next. You watched as she moved with a purposeful grace, her steps filled with a quiet determination.
As she approached the drawer, her fingers traced along the smooth surface before she pulled it open. The top drawer was organised with precision, and there they were â the two dildos you had mentioned, each one carefully arranged. The purple one was vibrant and rich, its hue deep and alluring, while the dark red was more subdued but equally enticing, its colour reminiscent of a deep, passionate embrace.
She took a moment to consider her options, her fingers hovering over the straps as she made her decision. It was a small but significant choice, one that would add a personal touch to the experience you were about to share. The act of choosing held its own weight, a way for her to assert her preferences, to have a say in how the moment would unfold. The purple one was bigger â she would definitely feel the painful sting more in the morning. But the red one was curved slightly â the angle pressing against all the right spots.
After a few moments, she selected the strap that resonated most with her in that moment. Purple â she would need the reminder in the morning. Her choice was deliberate, and as she held it in her hands, you could see the satisfaction in her expression, a sense of anticipation for what was to come. She hurried to slip off her underwear, throwing them in the wash before she turned back to you, the strap in hand, her gaze confident and ready.
With a gentle, encouraging smile, you extended your hand toward her, taking the strap from her with a sense of reverence. âMi hermosa niña perfecta, listening so well,â you murmured, your voice soft but filled with admiration. You took the strap carefully, admiring the way it felt in your hands, the texture and weight of it, and how it would fit into her just so.
It took a few moments, but eventually, you were settled back against the pillows, the room bathed in a soft, ambient light that cast gentle shadows across the bed. The black harness was securely wrapped around your waist, its sturdy material hugging your body comfortably, creating a sense of anticipation and readiness. The straps of the harness had been adjusted with care, ensuring a snug yet comfortable fit that allowed you to move freely, without any distraction from the sensation of the harness itself.
The purple dildo, now firmly attached to the harness, hung to one side, its vibrant colour contrasting with the dark fabric of the harness. It swayed slightly with your movements, the smooth, polished surface catching the dim light in a way that made it look almost ethereal.
âCome here,â you whispered, your voice a low, inviting rumble that seemed to resonate through the soft, dimly lit room. The ambiance was intimate and charged, the light casting gentle, warm hues that danced across the bed and accentuated the tenderness of the moment.
As you spoke, she moved to straddle you with a mixture of eagerness and nervous anticipation. Her hands reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing against the cool surface of the plastic. Her movements were fluid, a testament to how much she wanted ⊠needed ⊠this
You gently interjected; your tone soft but firm. âNot yet.â The words were a tender reminder, a way to guide her without diminishing the intensity of the moment. âDonât think I didnât notice itâs the bigger one, beautiful.â You added, a teasing note in your voice that hinted at both admiration and playfulness. Your eyes locked with hers, your gaze steady and full of affection.
The playful tease was meant to break any lingering tension, to remind her that this was a shared experience, one filled with mutual desire and understanding. Her reaction was immediate, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink as a shy smile played at the corners of her lips. The warmth of her blush was a contrast to the coolness of the plastic, adding an extra layer of intimacy to the moment.
âJust sit on my lap, yeh?â you continued, your voice gentle and reassuring. âI want to kiss you for a bit.â Your words were an invitation, a way to create a space where you could both indulge in the closeness and affection that had brought you together.
As you spoke, you could see the effect your words had on her. The initial shyness in her expression gave way to a more open, trusting look, her eyes reflecting both her anticipation and her desire to be close to you. The promise of a kiss, combined with the gentle teasing, had a way of making her blush even more furiously, her entire demeanour radiating both excitement and tenderness.
You readjusted yourself comfortably against the pillows, your posture open and inviting, as you guided her to sit on your lap. The arrangement was intimate, placing her in a position where she could feel your heartbeat, where every breath she took would be felt against your chest. As she complied, her body pressed close to yours, you took a moment to savour the closeness, to feel the warmth and softness of her against you.
With a tender touch, you cupped her face in your hands, your thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks. The contact was intimate and reassuring, a way to show her how much you cherished these moments of connection. âMy beautiful girl,â you sighed softly, smiling at the way her chest puffed up just a little.
You leaned in slowly, each movement deliberate and filled with intention. Your lips found hers in a kiss that was both soft and lingering, a gentle exploration that spoke of the deep affection and desire that had been simmering between you. The kiss began with a tender touch, a feather-light brush that seemed to hover for a moment before deepening.
As your lips connected, you could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with yours, the sweet, intimate sensation of her closeness. The kiss was more than just a physical act; it was a silent conversation, a way to express the emotions that words could barely capture. It was slow and deliberate, a careful dance of lips and breath that conveyed the depth of your feelings.
She responded eagerly, her lips moving against yours with a sense of urgency that matched the intensity of the moment. Her passion was palpable, and it only served to heighten the connection you shared. Her tongue slipped into your mouth with a bold, enthusiastic push, its warmth and softness adding a new layer to the kiss. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pure, unfiltered desire that sent a thrill through both of you.
The kiss deepened as she explored your mouth with a growing intensity, her tongue brushing against yours in a way that was both playful and possessive. The connection between you was tangible, each touch and movement an expression of the desire that had been building. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself responding with equal fervour, your hands sliding up to cradle her face as you matched her kiss for kiss.
The rhythm of the kiss became a symphony of sensation, a blend of soft caresses and passionate embraces. The initial tenderness gave way to a more urgent, fervent exploration, as if both of you were trying to savour every moment, to make the kiss last as long as possible. Your breaths came in shared gasps, the air between you thick with the heat of your desire.
In the midst of the kiss, you could feel the rhythm of her heart against your chest, the way her body pressed closer, seeking out the intimacy and connection that only this shared moment could provide. The kiss was a bridge between your souls, a way to communicate the depth of your feelings without the need for words.
As you continued to kiss, the world outside seemed to dissolve into insignificance, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a cocoon of warmth and passion. The external noise and distractions faded into a distant hum, barely registering against the backdrop of your shared intimacy. It was as if time had slowed down, allowing you both to savour each moment of the kiss without interruption or concern.
Kissing Alexia was, without a doubt, one of your favourite activities. Each kiss was a revelation, a tender exploration of the deep connection that existed between you. The way she tasted was intoxicating, a delicate blend of sweetness and warmth that lingered on your lips long after the kiss had ended. Her unique flavour was a subtle reminder of her essence, a taste of the intimacy you shared.
The way she sighed happily against you was equally enchanting. Her contented murmurs were a testament to the pleasure she was experiencing, the soft sounds of her satisfaction resonating through your shared embrace. Each sigh was like a gentle caress, a sign that she was fully immersed in the moment, enjoying every second of the closeness and affection.
The warmth of her body was another cherished aspect of your kisses. As she pressed against you, you could feel the heat radiating from her, a comforting sensation that made you feel incredibly connected and alive. Her body seemed to mould perfectly against yours, creating a harmonious blend of warmth and tenderness that was both soothing and exhilarating.
In those moments, everything else ceased to matter. The kiss was a world unto itself, a space where you could both be completely present, free from the worries and pressures of everyday life. The connection between you was palpable, a silent communication of love and desire that transcended words.
When you finally pulled back, it was with a reluctant but satisfied sigh, the kiss having fulfilled its promise of deep connection and mutual desire. You looked into her eyes, which were still filled with the same fervent emotion, the same longing that had driven the kiss. Your lips were tingling from the intensity, and the taste of her lingered, a sweet reminder of the passion you had just shared.
âPor favor, mi amor,â Alexia begged, her voice trembling with a mixture of desire and desperation. âCan I sit on your cock now?â The words came out as a soft, pleading whine, tinged with a hint of impatience. Her tone was both sweet and needy, a clear indication of how deeply she wanted to move forward.
You chuckled softly, the sound a low, intimate rumble that vibrated with affection and amusement. The tender laughter was a response to the intensity of her request, a way to acknowledge her eagerness while enjoying the moment. Your fingers moved with a practiced grace, sliding gently down her body to trace a delicate path through her folds.
As your fingers made contact, you could immediately feel the wetness that had gathered there. She was soaked, her arousal evident in the slick, heated sensation against your touch. It was a reminder of how responsive she was to your kisses, how a simple moment of intimacy could leave her dripping with desire. With Alexia, this was always the case â more than a minute of kissing and she would be positively drenched, her body reacting eagerly to the feel of your lips on hers.
âYouâre soaked, beautiful,â you murmured, your voice low and filled with admiration. âIs this all for me?â you asked, your words imbued with a mixture of awe and affection.
âSĂ, sĂ. Todo para ti, sĂłlo para ti,â she replied breathlessly, her voice a soft, trembling whisper. Her response was fervent, her eyes shimmering with both longing and vulnerability. As she spoke, her blonde hair tumbled forward, cascading around her face like a curtain. The golden strands fell gently in front of you, effectively blocking out the outside world and creating an intimate cocoon where only the two of you existed.
âWell, I am honored, baby,â you said with a sincere smile. Your words were a tender acknowledgment of her eagerness, a way to express just how much her readiness meant to you. Her reaction was immediate; she sighed happily, a soft, content sound that resonated with the warmth of your words.
âBe a good girl for me, Ale,â you continued gently, your tone both commanding and tender. âSit on my cock. Go carefully.â The instructions were clear but spoken with a careful consideration, a reminder of your attentiveness to her needs and desires. âI know you want to feel the stretch,â you added, a hint of understanding in your voice. âBut I donât want you hurting yourself.â The concern in your words was genuine, reflecting your deep care for her well-being and your desire to ensure that her experience was both pleasurable and safe.
Alexia was always amazed at how well you seemed to know her. The way you could often anticipate her desires before she fully articulated them was a constant source of wonder for her. Your understanding of her needs, coupled with your ability to express those needs with such precision, made her feel deeply connected to you. It was as though you had an intuitive grasp of her wants and boundaries, an ability to make every moment together feel profoundly satisfying.
Reaching down, she carefully lined herself up, slowly inching her way onto the dildo. It burned in the best way â the subtle pain and waves of pleasure easing Alexiaâs mind in a way that only this could bring. When she was with you, she was weightless â all of her needs were taken care of, she didnât need to think or do, she could just be ⊠just be Ale, your beautiful girl.
She felt your thumb descend softly onto her clit; the touch delicate yet deliberate. The sensation of your skin brushing against her sensitive flesh was electric, sending a shiver through her body. You began to rub in slow, purposeful circles, each motion carefully calibrated to enhance her pleasure without overwhelming her. The rhythmic pressure of your thumb against her clit caused her breath to hitch sharply as she bottomed out.
The way you touched her was a tender mixture of affection and desire, a gentle exploration that was as much about connection as it was about physical pleasure. The slow circles you traced were hypnotic, creating a soothing yet stimulating rhythm that made her body respond with increasing eagerness. Her breath came in soft, uneven gasps, each hitch a testament to the growing pleasure coursing through her.
âYouâre so pretty, Ale,â you murmured softly, your voice filled with admiration and warmth. The compliment was a loving acknowledgment of her beauty and the way she responded to your touch. Your words were a balm to her heightened emotions, a way to make her feel cherished and adored in this intimate moment.
âAnd you listened so well,â you continued, the praise flowing naturally from your lips. Your words were not just about her physical response but also about her attentiveness to your desires and instructions. It was a recognition of how well she had followed your lead, how perfectly she had aligned with the intimate dance you were sharing.
âSuch a beautiful girl for me,â you added, the final touch of your praise imbued with deep affection.
Alexia sighed deeply, the sound a mixture of contentment and relief as she leaned forward to rest her face against your neck. The warmth of her breath and the softness of her skin felt incredibly comforting, a tangible reminder of the closeness you shared. Her body relaxed against yours, the fear from her nightmare long gone.
You couldnât help but smile at the sweet gesture, your heart swelling with affection. Gently, you pressed a tender kiss to the side of her head, your lips brushing softly against her hair.
With one hand, you held her waist steadily, you fingers splayed and grip firmer to keep her grounded. With the other, you let your fingers trail delicately under the edge of her top, the touch light and exploratory. The sensation of your fingertips against her skin was soothing, creating a gentle, comforting rhythm that matched the intimate atmosphere. You traced soft patterns across her back and sides, each movement purposeful and filled with affection. Your touch was a tactile expression of your love, a way to convey the depth of your feelings without words.
Occasionally, your fingers spelled out small, loving messages against her skin. You wrote your name and hers in flowing cursive, a private reminder of the personal connection you shared. The letters were delicate, each one a testament to your appreciation for her and the uniqueness of your relationship.
In addition to names, you inscribed the words "I love you" in various languages you knew, each phrase a reflection of the global nature of your affection. From the simple âI love youâ in English to the tender âTe amoâ in Spanish, and âJe tâaimeâ in French, you created a mosaic of expressions that spanned cultures and languages. Each phrase was written with care, the letters forming a silent but powerful testament to the breadth and depth of your emotions.
The tactile sensations, combined with the loving words, created a moment of profound connection. Alexiaâs contented sighs and relaxed demeanour were a testament to the comfort and love she felt in your presence. The physical touch, the affectionate words, and the gentle exploration all combined to form a rich tapestry of intimacy that made the moment feel incredibly special and deeply meaningful.
As you continued to trace patterns and write loving messages on her skin, the room seemed to grow even quieter, the outside world fading into the background. It was just the two of you, sharing a moment of pure, unspoken connection that spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings for each other. Each touch and word was a celebration of your bond, a way to make Alexia feel cherished and adored in the most intimate and heartfelt way.
âClose your eyes, my beautiful girl. Iâll be here for you in the morning.â You whispered, letting your words wash over Alexia as she slowly slipped back into sleepâs embrace.
âTâestimo,â she mumbled.
âI love you,â you replied.
#woso community#woso x reader#woso#woso fanfics#barca femeni x reader#woso blurbs#woso imagine#barca femeni#woso oneshot#barça femeni x reader smut#barça femeni x reader#barca femeni x reader smut#alexia putellas smut#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#espwnt x reader#espwnt#spain wnt#espwnt smut#woso fluff#woso smut#fic: beautiful girl
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âThe star of the night
Summary: In the middle of chaos, Reca chooses you, his assistant, to replace the actual actress.
Words: 2k
Tags: Fluff, slight comedy, mr reca being mr reca
âčâ Ëâ§ïž”âżâàšà§ââżïž”â§ Ë ââč
In your lifetime, you'd never been anywhere more glamorous than Reca's movie set. It was a polished spectacle of wealth, fame, and sheer creative ambition concentrated in a single place.
The set was pristine. Everything from the polished equipment to the crew buzzing around the latest cutting-edge technology spoke of high-budget prowess. Reca had wrangled only the crĂšme de la crĂšme of actors, and the script itself was a masterpiece, lauded by critics before a single frame had even been shot. Naturally, it was no surprise when the man beside you, the very architect of this grandiose vision, let out an audible groan, throwing his head into his hands. He pulled them down his face in a gesture so theatrical it almost belonged on the screen itself.
"No, no, no." He groaned, his voice laced with overdramatic despair. âNot like this. This is supposed to be art. Art!â He gestured wildly at the set. âAny three-year-old could create such a display with macaroni!"
While you found yourself captivated by the scene's intricate designâeach prop in perfect position, the textures, the layout of furnitureâall meticulously assembled to support the vision of an unfolding narrative, Reca saw only flaws. In his eyes, it was a desecration of the perfection he had so painstakingly envisioned.
To him, everything was wrong. The lighting was lifeless, casting shadows that fell harshly across the actorsâ faces, robbing them of the soft glamour heâd imagined. The music? A hollow echo that failed to evoke a single stirring of emotion, as far from evocative as a flat note played on a broken piano. And the actressâthe poor, unknowing actress who, in any other setting, would be lauded for her skillâwas, to Reca, nothing short of an abomination in this moment. His eyes were fixed on her, his lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head.
âDoes she even know her lines?â He muttered, mostly to himself, though you heard every word. âItâs as if sheâs performing in a high school play, notâŠnot this.â He ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth, his presence a cyclone of perfectionism.
For the past hour, Reca had been tearing every detail apart. The set he'd once raved about was now an "ill-matched mess." The weeks you'd spent booking this elusive location, the endless calls, the backup locations youâd scouted, and the rejections youâd faced until this one finally came through. The casting? The exhausting process of reviewing tapes, organizing callbacks, going through Reca's list of notes and opinions on each actress, often just to have him change his mind the next day. And that demo track? Youâd pulled every string, barely scraping by deadlines, just to make sure everything was in perfect order for him.
And here you were, watching it all unravel with each of Recaâs sighs and exasperated mutterings. As he kept pacing, criticizing the lighting again and muttering that the entire production was in danger of "crumbling into mediocrity," you couldnât help but let out a silent prayer. An aeon, a muse, a miracleâsomeone save me, you thought, raising your hands briefly to the heavens in a quiet display of surrender.
Because if Recaâs mood didnât lighten, there was absolutely no way this movie was getting made today.
Just as you were silently pleading for an escape from this nightmare, Recaâs pacing came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped in your direction, and his gaze narrowed, a glint of sudden inspiration lighting up his face. You felt a jolt of dread. That lookâoh, you knew it too well. It was the same look he had whenever he came up with one of his âbrilliantâ ideas, which, more often than not, meant you were in for another impossible task.
âYou.â He said, pointing at you with a fervor that made you take a step back. âYouâll be perfect.â
You blinked, uncertain if he was joking. âMe?â
âYes! You!â He clapped his hands together, excitement bubbling up in his eyes. âDonât you see? You have everything this role needs. Raw energy, authenticityâa complete lack ofâŠtraining! Itâs fresh. Itâs real!â
âReca, I donât thinkââ
âNonsense!â He cut you off, waving your protests away. âYouâre exactly what this film is missing! All this time, I was looking in the wrong places. These actressesâŠtheyâre too polished. Too practiced. They lack that somethingâthat spark of untamed potential that you have.â He smiled, a bit maniacally, but you could tell he was deadly serious.
âBut Iâm just your assistant.â You stammered, feeling your face flush. âI donât know the first thing about acting. Iâd probably ruin the entire film!â
âNo way.â He insisted, eyes blazing with enthusiasm as if heâd already envisioned you on the big screen. âThink about it! Youâve been here for the whole process, you know every detail. Youâve seen every scene in my head just as I see it. Who else could be better prepared?â
You opened your mouth to protest again, there was no one that had the same vision as him, but he was already motioning to the costume designer, barking orders to prepare an outfit for you. Any hint of hesitation had disappeared from his face. In his mind, you were already cast and rehearsed, the missing piece that would bring his vision to life.
The next thing you knew, you were being ushered into the dressing room, handed a costume, and given a rapid rundown of your characterâs motivationsâdirectly from Reca himself, who seemed thrilled beyond measure. Somewhere between his impassioned monologues and the mounting nervousness that took over you, you found yourself on the set, standing beneath the very lights heâd spent hours cursing.
And as the camera rolled, with Recaâs wide-eyed gaze fixed intently on you, you couldnât shake the surreal feeling. Youâd gone from assistant to lead actress in a single, unpredictable twist, and despite your inexperience, you found yourself saying the lines and stepping into the roleâŠall under the watchful, eager eyes of a director who now thought you were the perfect star.
The set had quieted down, and the crew took a break, leaving only a few people around. Reca, still lingering near you after that intense practice, watched the others drift away before turning back to you with a small, thoughtful smile.
âLetâs run through it one more time, mon cherie.â He said, his voice softer now. âOff camera. Just us.â There was a vulnerability in his tone you hadnât heard beforeâa subtle, unspoken invitation.
You nodded, though your heart was pounding again. With the equipment and the audience gone, the space between you felt strangely intimate, as if stepping outside the boundary of the roles you were supposed to be playing.
He took a steadying breath and stood before you, his gaze searching yours. âClose your eyes.â He said, his hand brushing yours. âForget the lines, the lights. JustâŠfeel it.â
You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. You could feel the warmth of his presence, so close now that every brush of his hand seemed to linger, every movement deliberate. He guided you gently, his fingertips tracing the edges of your hand until your fingers were laced together, his touch grounding, even protective.
âImagineâŠâ he whispered, his voice soft and full of emotion, âImagine thereâs no one here but us. No cameras. No crew.â
You opened your eyes, and he was watching you, his gaze vulnerable and sincere in a way you hadnât seen before. His expression held an emotion that was entirely unscriptedâalmost a question lingering in his eyes, as if he was daring you to step closer.
His hand moved to your face, fingertips lightly tracing your cheek. The way he looked at you was overwhelming, like he was seeing parts of you no one had ever seen before. It felt like he was letting you in, past the director, past the confident professional, to something real and deeply hidden.
âJust us.â He murmured, almost to himself, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His eyes softened, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. For a second, it felt like he might kiss youânot as part of a scene, not as an actor in a role, but as himself.
You swallowed, your own emotions swelling, breaking past the practiced distance of assistant and director. The way he looked at you, the way his touch lingered just a moment too long, felt impossibly real. It wasnât just acting. Not anymore.
And in that shared silence, the line between character and reality blurred completely, leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was something there that neither of you had dared to speak aloud.
Your breath caught as Reca leaned in closer, his hand cradling your face with an intensity that made the world around you disappear. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat that stretched on, filled with a tension so thick it felt like the air had turned electric. His thumb brushed gently across your cheek, and you felt your heart pounding, anticipation building with each passing second.
You closed your eyes, half-expecting, half-hoping for the kiss that seemed to hover right on the edge of happening. The moment felt impossibly fragile, a secret shared only between the two of you. And just as you felt him draw in that final breathâŠ
He pulled back, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes, and he spun around, letting out a shout that shattered the delicate silence. âYes! Thatâs it! THAT expressionâexactly what we need!â
You blinked, still reeling, as he practically leapt away from you, his energy blazing. âEveryone!â He called out, his voice filled with exhilaration. âGet ready to film! Now, now, now! We have to capture thisâsheâs got the emotion perfect, itâs exactly what Iâve been looking for!â
The crew scrambled into action, quickly setting up cameras and adjusting lights as you stood there, frozen and feeling a littleâŠlost. You watched him pace excitedly, giving orders and pointing out positions, his focus now on preparing the scene. Meanwhile, you felt your cheeks flush with the sudden realization that the almost-kiss hadnât been what you thought at all.
You felt the warmth creeping up your cheeks, your heart still racing from the almost-kiss that had left you somewhere between flustered and bewildered. As the crew finished setting up, you broke into a grin, chuckling softly at the absurdity of it all. Reca had played you perfectly, swept you into the scene so thoroughly that, for a moment, youâd forgotten where the acting stopped and the real feelings began. You couldnât help but shake your head, laughing at yourself.
Reca, seeing your smile, grinned back, clearly thrilled that heâd managed to get such an authentic reaction. âThatâs the spirit!â he cheered, clapping his hands together in delight. âI knew you had it in you!â
âYou know, Reca.â You said, trying to keep the teasing note in your voice light as you crossed your arms, âyou played me well. Got me all caught up in the moment. Almost too well, actually.â
He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. âOnly did what any good director would do.â He replied, a playful edge in his tone.
You raised an eyebrow, feeling a spark of confidence as you leaned in just a little. âWell, maybe we should rehearse some more roles in private sometime.â You suggested, your smile turning slightly coy. âYou knowâŠjust to pick up where you left me hanging.â
For the briefest second, he looked taken aback, his eyes widening as if surprised by your boldness. But then, that familiar grin returned, his gaze lingering on you with a newfound intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
âPerhaps we will.â he said, his voice a touch lower, his gaze still locked on you. âOnly if you think you can handle a bit more of myâŠmethods.â
Your smile deepened, and you felt a thrill run through you. Maybe, just maybe, the line between acting and reality was thinner than youâd thought. And if Reca wanted to blur it a little moreâŠwell, you couldnât say youâd mind.
#âčââĄâsatori.speaks#âčââĄâwritings#mr reca x reader#mr reca#honkai star rail#honkai mr reca#hsr mr reca#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#mr reca fluff
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clumsy
pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
word count: 9,1k
summary: sebastian is clumsy
cw: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, two really stubborn idiots in love to be exact, sir cadogan guest appearance, anne and imelda are the gremlin best friends every girl needs, smut (18+ ONLY), oral (f. recieving)
a/n: or: two stubborn brats make things more difficult than they have to be. I've been working on this for a MONTH more or less, ever since I drew the sketch that inspired it𫶠(I'm the world's slowest writer)
The first time Sebastian Sallow interacted with her after the fateful events of their fifth year, he fell for her.
Quite literally.
Maybe fell on her is more aptly put - Sebastian Sallow is not one to mince his words or say what he doesn't mean, after all. But, in the years to come, he always insists that he fell in love in that moment.
It was inexplicable. One moment, he was walking around, perfectly content with his loveless, boring life, and the next, his every waking moment was painful. Nobody had ever told Sebastian that being in love would physically pain or consume him so.
It all started like this: one moment, he's walking (well, striding) to Crossed Wands. Fine, he's running. Running late already, for the first meet-up of his last year. But - he isn't to blame for being late. He needed to check on something in the library - during his Transfiguration lesson, he had a hunch about something Professor Weasley had said in passing, and of course he had to go and check to see if he was right before he could even think about besting Leander in the inaugural duel of the Crossed Wands season but now, with how late he is - how many minutes ago had it started? - oh, Merlin, it's already been ten whole minutes and what if they've started without him (not that he can blame them) and -
Sebastian is abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when he collides with a strange obstruction in his way. He was just checking his father's old pocket watch, had only looked away for a split second and he could have sworn that, unless he was mistaken (which he never is), there wasn't a statue in the middle of the suspension bridge. And yet, he has run headfirst into something or someone, and now they are both flying through the air, books whirling around them in a flurry of pages and Sebastian unconsciously puts his arms out to grab her before they hit the ground and now he's holding her tight against him and they land with a loud, ungraceful thud, but at least she's not hurt.
Sebastian shakes his head to clear it after the impact that - miraculously - doesn't seem to have been as bad as it could have been, all things considered, and -
He freezes.
What has he done?
He's pressed up against the most impossibly lovely person he has ever seen quite possibly in his life, holding her tightly in his arms as she glares up at him in indignation, a faint flush spreading across her cheeks, making her face glow. Is this what the muggles mean when they say that they were struck by Cupid's arrow? Her hands scrabble uselessly at his chest as she tries to extricate herself from his grip. It's useless. Sebastian is completely frozen in place as he stares down at her, and he can feel his own face heating up at his inability to get off her. What's wrong with him?
"Sebastian," she repeats, and this time her voice registers in his brain. He realizes she has been talking to him this whole time, and as he stares at her face without comprehending - he couldn't have a coherent thought right now even if he wanted to - he sees her eyes dart quickly down, looking at where their bodies meet before she brings them back to his face, a deeper blush coming over her. "You -"
Oh, Merlin. It's her. He blinks and it's like the fog has cleared from his mind - almost, but-not-quite - and he realizes who he has unceremoniously crashed to the ground with him. The spines of the textbooks they are lying on top of dig into the arm that's pinned under her body and his other hand...he realizes (to his almost-horror) that to any students or professors walking by, it would seem as if they were caught up in quite the scandalous extra-curricular activity because his other hand is actively caressing her breast. Well, that's how it would look to any passerby, anyways.
Because there is no way he would be caught dead in such a compromising position with her.
The two of them haven't spoken since the events of their fifth year - the Year-That-Shall-Not-Be-Remembered-or-Acknowledged - and he had been perfectly content with his plan to continue this strange sort of ignoring that they had played all last year. Both of them pretending that they hadn't become impossibly close after only knowing each other for a few months - a closeness that he had gone and ruined by not knowing when to quit. All he had known to do back then was push push push because why couldn't she see things the way he had? The betrayal he had felt when she had gone behind his back to find her own way to cure his sister, and that one stupid word uttered in the heat of the moment, had caused an irreparable rift in their relationship and he would not allow himself to think about how much he missed her. Still misses her.
Just like he will not think about the fact that she is pressed beneath him in a compromising position, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she glares up at him in indignation. He continues to stare at her. Maybe his mouth is agape. She's stopped trying to get out of his grip and is resting her hands on his chest, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to push him off of her.
"Sebastian. Your hand," she repeats. "You're -"
Finally his idiot brain decides to wake up and Sebastian realizes with horror just how aroused he is at the moment and how did he never see her like this before? He gets up in a flash, pushing her back against the pile of books they're lying on top of, wondering if he can subtly adjust his robes without her realizing and then he makes the very grave mistake of looking down at her and she's still very much red-faced, propping herself up by her elbows and she looks so disheveled and lovely lying on top of the pile of books.
His idiot brain has now woken up completely, and how is it possible for one hormonal, eighteen-year-old wizard to be so embarrassed? He knocked her to the ground, pushed her further back in the books in his desperate attempt to get away from her, and now all he can think about is how to hide his arousal. Shameful, really. Sebastian quickly crouches down to help her pick up all of the books but she shoves him away and glares at him with an annoyance that he's never seen before.
"I can do it myself, thank you very much," she says with a huff, gathering everything they spilled up into her arms. She grabs the book Sebastian is holding out of his hands and he inhales sharply at the touch of her fingers grazing his.
Did someone - Garreth, maybe - spike his pumpkin juice with Amortentia during lunch? It's the only explanation he can think of as he stares blankly down at her. How else would he find her so beautiful, so breathtaking, when the last time they had interacted, Ominis and Anne had had to act as intermediaries for the two of them?
"Well," she says finally, slinging her school bag over her shoulder once all of her books have been unceremoniously shoved inside of it, "it's been...nice seeing you again, Sallow. I hope you had a good summer holiday."
And with that, she quickly turns and walks away in the direction she had been coming from, leaving a very confused Sebastian behind. He watches her as she walks away and her long, swishing braid is the last thing he sees before the door closes behind her at the far end of the bridge.
Eventually, he gathers his wits and wanders away.
He does not go to the first Crossed Wands meeting that afternoon after all.
She has not had a full-night's sleep since he somehow cursed her mind and her thoughts a week ago, and she can feel herself slowly slipping into insanity. A curse is the only answer that makes sense, the only thing that gives a conceivable answer to all the wicked dreams she has been having since that moment, dreams that cause her to wake up sweaty and breathless and needing him in the middle of the night in a way she has never felt before. She has been an absolute mess, a disastrous version of her normally quite put-together self, and she is not happy about it.
He's sitting next to her now - they were partnered up by the evil Professor Onai in their first NEWT Divination class of the year - and she's holding herself rigidly, arms tight across her chest, in an attempt to not accidentally touch him. Lately, every single time they make fleeting eye contact across the table during breakfast, or when they pass each other in the hallways, a shiver runs down her spine at the unfamiliar look in his eyes and she has to avert her eyes before it's too much.
Divination has never been a favorite subject of hers - too impermeable for her tastes. She is only taking it at the NEWT level because, during her career counseling with Professor Ronen at the end of her fifth year, he had said that if she wanted to be an Unspeakable she couldn't just work with logic (a preposterous thought, but as a sixteen-year-old she hadn't seen any recourse in arguing with the Ministry's requirements). She supposedly needs to get comfortable with the intangible as well. It doesn't mean she has to enjoy it, though: she doesn't, and never will. The Divination classroom is dark and stuffy, tucked away in one of the highest towers of the castle, and the nauseating smell of incense always coats her nasal cavities long after the class has finished. She finds her thoughts getting muddled in the haze of candle smoke and swirling orbs on the shelves around her - magic somehow always feels thicker up here - and the presence of a certain someone whose knees keep brushing hers under the tiny table they're sharing, a certain someone who has - improbably, inconceivably, impossibly - hit a growth spurt that summer and now towers over her and had encompassed her completely when he knocked her to the ground, isn't helping her concentration at -
"This week, we are going to review everything we learned together last year," Professor Onai says, after the class had rearranged itself based on her instructions. Sebastian shoots a look at her as she shakes her head in an attempt to clear it and sits up straighter. She hopes that Onai's lecture will help her concentrate and clear her mind a bit. If she has something to focus on, to try and think of and remember, it will be better than him. Anything would be better than Sebastian. Onai gives an appraising look to each table before continuing her speech. "As your NEWTs are at the end of the year, we need to make sure you are as prepared as possible. Open your books to page two-hundred and thirty. Today we're going to review the art of palmistry. I should hope that you do not need the aid of your textbook to help interpret the lines in your partner's palm but in the case that you do -"
She chances a glance at Sebastian before getting out her copy of Divining the Undivinable from her bag and wishes she hadn't. He looks uncomfortably big sitting on the tiny tea chair across from her, barely any hints of the boy who had completely swept her away two years ago visible on the sharper planes of his face. When had he - had they - grown up?
Sebastian Sallow was - is - charming, and that had been her downfall. She had successfully avoided his charms the year before, and she wasn't going to let that happen this year, no matter how much her body rebelled against her mind and resolve. Because, as she reminds herself, Sebastian Sallow is also manipulative, and cold-hearted, and selfish.
"Well," she says archly, opening her book. She will not look at him. "I suppose I am still quite ignorant of the practice of Divination, so do forgive me if I have to double-check my readings in the textbook."
He says her name as she opens the book, and she ignores him. He says her name again. She continues to ignore him. He grabs the book from her hands and puts it the correct way for her. She was looking at it upside-down. Her cheeks heat up and she continues flipping through the pages, as if nothing has happened. She finds page two-hundred and thirty. She pretends to be interested in what she sees.
(Divination is unfortunately not interesting.)
Oh, fine.
"Do you want to start, or should I?"
These are the first words she has voluntarily spoken to him - not including the events of last week, which do not count as they were most decidedly not voluntary - since he called her ignorant a year and a half ago. He somehow looks surprised to see that she has addressed him, and for some reason this fills her with rage and a strange sort of confidence. Why shouldn't she be able to talk to him?
"Here," she says, putting her hand out towards him, palm up, ignoring the strange fluttering feeling in her chest when he gently grabs it with one of his. Sebastian looks up at her, waiting for her to continue speaking, and were she not looking at him so intently she would have easily missed the bob of his throat as he swallows nervously. "Show me how it's done."
Her breath catches in her throat at the small, mischievous smirk he shoots to her before he bends over her hand and gently starts tracing the lines on her palm with the fingers of the hand that's not holding hers in place. His touch is feather-light and somehow soft, despite the roughness of his fingers as they drag over her palm. Every nerve in her body seems to have moved to wherever he touches and all of the bravado and anger she had just felt is quickly melting away. When she finally finds her voice, she hates how soft and breathy it sounds. She can't look away from the sight of his larger hands caressing hers.
"Well? What do you see? Do you remember the different lines? Because I -"
She falters. The murmurs of their classmates blend together in the background and the dim lights of the candles...the hazy, thick atmosphere and his proximity and the barely there touches of his rough fingertips on her sensitive palm are altogether too overwhelming and she needs to get out of there. She's supposed to be angry with him. Furious, even. Holding this grudge has been the only way she has been able to have any sort of power over him this past year, and yet...all she can think about at the moment are the sinful dreams she's been having lately where he presses her against a wall, desperately kissing her lips, her neck - even she knows that there has to be more to it - but what?
Sebastian blinks as she snatches her hand away like it's been burned and - oh, Merlin - she shoves the textbook back into her schoolbag and almost knocks the candle on the table over and wouldn't it be awful if she had started a fire? But she can't think about any of that now in her haste to just get out of the claustrophobic Divination tower.
Vaguely, she can hear Professor Onai asking her if everything is fine and she's not sure but she thinks she mumbles something about needing to go to the Hospital Wing - that's a good enough excuse to leave, isn't it? - but then she hears his voice, deep and cutting through the fog in her mind -
"Don't worry, I'll take her and make sure she gets there fine." A muffled response from their professor and then his voice, just as clear as before. "No, I don't know what happened..."
She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.
"Let go of me," she whispers, but there's no conviction in her voice as she gazes into his deep, brown eyes. He can tell she doesn't mean it and doesn't make any move to listen to her. Why can't she hold on to the rage? A muggle quote about anger floats through her mind: Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. What a sweet poison her anger at Sebastian had been, while it lasted. She tries telling herself that he must still feel the same as the evening he had called her ignorant (ignoring the small voice in her head that reminded her of the letters of apology he had sent (that she had burned without reading), the times he had tried to get Anne or Ominis involved and apologize for him) - because why couldn't he just tell her himself? Maybe she had shut down any and all attempts he had made to repair the rift that he had caused in the first place, but she had been right to be so angry with him.
But oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.
"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."
That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.
She knows she's behaving wantonly, snogging Sebastian Sallow in the middle of the hallway where anyone could come across them, but third period has only just started and besides, she has had a week of restless nights being tortured by thoughts of him. A week of a few hours of sleep found here and there. Just one kiss should be enough to help her get over these strange feelings, right? She only feels like this because having him lie on top of her after he crashed into her - that satisfying weight of him - the friction of his thumb brushing against her nipple - had made her realize just how stupid she had been, holding this grudge against him for -
She whimpers in protest but it quickly turns into a moan as his mouth moves away from hers and down to her neck. He pulls at her tight collar desperately - she hears some seams ripping - to give him better access to it, and she finds herself arching her back and pushing her body closer to his as he nuzzles her neck with his nose before giving it open, sloppy kisses. When he hears her, he moves back to kissing her, greedily capturing every breathy moan that comes out of her mouth, but the noises coming from him are matching hers, and at the sound she feels an unfamiliar clenching deep in her stomach. Her fingers come up to his hair, going through the silky curls over and over - how are they as soft as his lips? - and he slowly pushes her back until she's sandwiched between his warm body and the cold stone of the wall behind her.
He lets out a low, frantic growl as a hand goes to grip the back of her head, holding her in place as he slants his mouth over hers. He tastes like cinnamon and...like something forbidden. What has gotten into her? She hates him, and yet...
They have abandoned any pretense of propriety - had they ever even been trying? - by this point. His tongue swipes across her lips and then she is completely lost to him, to every sensation of his mouth, and tongue, on hers. His large hands - the wicked hands that had been caressing her palm and had caused this whole mess in the first place - have moved to her waist and are pulling her even closer to him. When he pulls away briefly, she whines in protest, opening her eyes to glare at him. The sight of him, flushed and breathless, his eyes wide and pupils dilated - must match her own appearance because she sees the same hunger she feels in his eyes. She has never seen Sebastian Sallow so disheveled, but she finds she quite likes it and tugs on his curls with a whine. He obliges eagerly, bringing his mouth back to hers.
She's pressed as tightly against him as she can possibly be, and yet it still isn't enough. Her back arches once again, trying to find something, and then he slots one of his knees between her legs. She moans at the friction caused by his movements, can feel an unfamiliar slickness forming at the juncture between her legs, and this seems to spur him on further as his kisses get more desperate and sloppy. She moves against his leg, trying to relieve some of her discomfort, gasping into his mouth, when -
They freeze. Even if they are fully, completely, absorbed by...whatever this is, they can't ignore the strange, metallic clanking sound coming from their left. Sebastian pulls his head back from her slowly, reluctantly, breathing heavily, and looks over to see what the noise is. She wants to, but all of a sudden the horrifying reality of what they've been doing sinks in and oh god what if the noise is a person? Someone who has now seen her in what might possibly be the most mortifying moment of her life - desperately snogging Sebastian Sallow - and she finds she can't look over. She tucks her head into his neck to hide her face as she listens.
"I demand that you get away from her at once, you knave! Cease your attack!"
The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but she's certain that it doesn't belong to any of her classmates. He almost sounds...medieval, but -
"I made haste when I heard sounds of distress coming from down the hallway," the voice continues, "and it appears I have arrived not a moment too soon!"
She brings her head away from Sebastian's shoulder but still refuses to look over at whoever is speaking, instead choosing to stare at Sebastian's face. He's still deliciously flushed from their snogging, still breathing heavily, but now he looks terribly confused. His brows are furrowed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to come up with a response to the outrage currently being directed at him.
The unknown man is continuing his diatribe, almost not even stopping to breathe as he gets more and more worked up, and she hears some more clanking as he reaches a particularly exciting moment in his rant. Sebastian looks increasingly confused, but still shields her with his body, not moving away from her at all despite the accusations.
Her curiosity gets the better of her and she peeks over to see who it is.
The man who has been reprimanding Sebastian so boldly is none other than Sir Cadogan. Although she's never interacted with him directly, she often hears him yelling at his pony as she passes his portrait on her way to Divination. The knight is standing between two witches having tea, who are glaring at him quite angrily as he gesticulates wildly - every movement of his sword comes dangerously close to their display of cakes and sandwiches and it looks like he has already broken some plates. His armor is ill-fitting and loose on him, which explains the terrible noise.
"You rascally knave! I assure you that you do not want to find out what will happen to you if you do not unhand the fair maiden."
He brandishes his sword again, and the woman closest to him quickly snatches her tea cup away to save it from being broken as well. "Come now, Sir Cadogan," she says, exasperated. "Can't you see that these two are in love?"
The other woman joins her protests, nodding vigorously. "Yes, exactly that. Leave them be!"
"Nonsense," he exclaims. "I too have succumbed to my baser instincts on occasion and I can assure you that this is decidedly not what is occurring."
As Sir Cadogan continues to alternate between lecturing her and Sebastian, and directing his two attention to the ladies who are defending them, she looks back to the boy in question. Sebastian is looking down at her, a bemused smile on his lips and she feels a twinge in her chest. His face is still so close to hers that if she wants to, they could be snogging again with barely any effort and her eyes briefly flicker down to his tempting mouth before going back to his eyes, but...
What had gotten into her? What is she doing?
He had somehow managed to manipulate her again, because there is no way that this situation could have happened otherwise. All of a sudden, the anger she's been feeling for the past year and a half - that had left for a brief, blissful moment - surges again, and she pushes Sebastian away from her with as much force as she can muster. She almost feels bad as the happiness in his face turns to confusion, then frustration as he realizes she's getting away from him.
"Stay away from me," she hisses, picking up her discarded schoolbag from its spot on the ground. As she stalks down the hall, she can hear Sir Cadogan cheering on her bravery over the ringing in her ears.
She has a lot of thinking to do.
Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):
Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;
Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and
Figure out what the hell is going on between us
Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.
It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.
Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.
The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.
Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.
He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.
He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.
He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.
When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.
"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.
She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.
They weave through hallways - Sebastian vaguely wonders where exactly they're going - before reaching a little alcove, hidden by a suit of armor. She looks around before pulling him into it. It's almost curfew and the halls are never that busy when the weather is as beautiful as it has been these days - the end of September seems to be clinging on to the summer for as long as possible.
Her lips are on his before he can even ask her what she needed to talk with him about, hungry and desperate. Sebastian is too stunned to pull away - not that he would actually want to. Her arms wrap around his neck, keeping Sebastian close, slender fingers sliding through his hair.
"What," she says breathlessly between kisses - almost not even moving her mouth away from his enough to be able to enunciate properly, "are you doing to me? I haven't been able to think for the last month."
Sebastian smiles into her mouth, wondering if she knows that she's repeating the very thing he told her two weeks ago. Maybe she has been thinking of him all this time - he almost hopes that she's been suffering as much as he has. Instead of responding, he moves a hand to cup her jaw, deepening the kiss. His other hand moves to her waist, gripping it tightly, pulling her flush against his body and she gasps into his mouth. He slowly moves her closer to the window alcove behind them, snogging her senseless the whole time. She moans into his mouth which just spurs him on further - her skirt rides up to her hips as Sebastian trails a hand up her stockinged thigh and they both gasp when his hand reaches skin. Her skin is so, so soft and her breathing gets faster as he continues to caress her inner thigh, closer to the bend between her thigh and her center. Sebastian wonders if she's ever been touched there before by someone else and jealousy flares up inside of him at the thought.
In one swift move, he scoops her up and places her so that she's sitting on the window-ledge, the dusky light of the sunset illuminating her from behind and making her wispy flyaway hairs a golden halo around her. Sebastian's breath catches in his throat - has he ever seen anything so beautiful as her in that moment? - she's staring up at him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her breathing shallow and anticipation in her eyes. "You're," he starts saying and his throat goes dry. He brings a hand up to tuck the errant lock of hair - the one she had tucked earlier in the library - behind her ear and she leans her head into his touch, closing her eyes briefly before looking up at him again with wide eyes. "You're perfect."
She smiles faintly and pulls his head back down towards hers and now she's brushing her lips against his, teasing him, before it's too much and he grips the back of her head, holding her in place as he crushes his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss. Her knees are on either side of his waist, and she desperately grinds her core against his throbbing erection and they both groan at the friction. Sebastian moves his hands down to her thighs again as he kisses her, slowly caressing his way up and pushing her skirt up further until it's completely bunched around her waist. She gasps into his mouth at his first tentative touch after he pushes aside her undergarments. Sebastian swipes a finger up her slit, through the slick that coats it, and then he starts circling her clit with slow, even strokes. She shivers against him - at his touch - clinging tightly to his shoulders and gasping into his mouth as he continues.
Every little noise coming out of her mouth, feeling how wet she is, how the slickness keeps growing growing growing makes Sebastian hungry for more - it isn't enough -
Slowly - so slowly - he wants to savor this moment - he lowers himself until he's kneeling between her legs and he looks up at her. Her face is deliciously flushed, all swollen lips and hair in a wild cloud around her face and all she can do is stare down at him. Her chest is heaving and she tries to close her legs - hide what is exposed to him - but he holds her thighs firmly in place on either side of his head. He turns his head and kisses her inner thigh, maintaining eye contact as he swipes his tongue across where he's just kissed, moving closer towards her slick center.
"Oh," she breathes, not-quite-a-word, not-quite-a-gasp, when his mouth reaches her center and hovers over it, lips slowly teasing her the way she had just teased him. Sebastian tentatively runs his tongue up her slit; the loud moan she lets out when he reaches her clit makes him stay there, applying light and not-so-light pressure in equal measure.
Her hands are scrabbling at his hair, digging into his scalp, ruining his earlier attempts to make it look presentable, hopefully attractive, for her these days. She's pushing his head deeper into the space between her legs, starting to rock herself slightly on his mouth, and Sebastian is happy to oblige. He eagerly laps up her slit, and the obscene wet noises as he continues combined with her whimpers and barely-spoken profanities "oh-yes-fuck-yes-there-please-" are making him hard beyond belief. He's straining against his trousers, begging to be let free. Without moving his face from her, he unbuttons his trousers and starts palming himself, using the slickness weeping out of the tip as lubrication.
She's abandoned all control at this point, grinding herself into his face as he laps her up, and it's driving him wild - knowing that he's doing this to her - causing her to be so undone. Normally she's so poised and aloof, never letting any real emotion flicker across her face, so to see her so desperate and needy and wanting him so -
Sebastian's gasping into her, tongue deep inside of her, "ohmygod" he hears her whisper, her hips driving into his face when she shudders and goes still, pulsing around the tongue that's deep inside of it. He slows down, smiling as he continues to run his tongue up her slit until she's responsive again. He kisses her inner thigh and hears her moan before getting up, caressing a finger down her love-struck face and leaning his head down to kiss her deeply. With his other hand he's still touching himself - the thought that she can taste herself on his tongue driving him crazy - and he starts rubbing its blunt head against her swollen clit. She takes it out of his hand- he groans at the feeling of her soft hands (the hands he had held a week ago in Divination and pictured doing this exact thing) tentatively caressing his length before she begins to slide it up and down her slit, coating it in her wetness.
Sebastian has surrendered all control to her - resting his hands on either side of her hips on the windowsill, tucking his head into the crook of her neck and thrusting with her movements as he loses himself in the sensation of sliding through her slick folds. He can feel his release building building building, and when he finally comes, all over her perfect, pink center, it feels like a finally.
Sebastian feels so, so heavy as he pulls his head away from her shoulder, as if he could fall into a blissful sleep right there, in the little window alcove where they've hidden themselves away. The sun has now set completely and they're in shadow as they stare at each other, the sound of their ragged breathing filling the tiny space.
"Sebastian, I..."
She's staring at him with an unfathomable expression on her face, still holding him in her hand, her other hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. They look down and he feels his face heat up even more at the mess he's made - he quickly pulls out his wand and cleans her up, before looking back at her, giving her a wry smile as he buttons up his pants and helps her off the ledge. "What did you want to talk to me about, again?"
She gives a slight shake of her head and looks away, but she can't hide the small smile that's growing on her face just like she can't help her eyes that keep wandering over to his. He knows the growing smile on his face matches hers - did that really just happen? She reaches over to lace her fingers through his as they walk around the suit of armor. "I - it's not important."
"Come on," he says, not being able to resist the opportunity to tease her - he's somehow managed to break through the barriers she's set up around her, and he's not about to let the opportunity slide. "Surely that's not what you had in mind when you..."
Sebastian trails off as he sees the expression in her face turn to one of horror - he didn't think his teasing was that bad, was it? - but she's also pulling her hand out of his like she's been burned and -
He follows her gaze, to where it's fixed at the end of the hallway and he knows that once again his face mimics hers. He will never live this down.
Standing at the end of the hallway and looking like two cats who've just found a huge dish of milk, are his sister and Imelda.
Misery.
Complete and utter misery are what she's feeling, if she has to put it into words, which she does. Writing things down always helps her out, helps her organize her thoughts into some sort of order. Except...this time around, it's not really helping. She can't seem to make any sense of her feelings for Sebastian.
She looks over the muddled mess of words she's written down - stream of consciousness, incomprehensible babble - and sighs. She's been dreaming of falling in love since she was a young girl - Jane Austen will do that to you - and can't believe that now that she's had her opportunity, it has to go and be with Sebastian Sallow. Because it has to be love, hasn't it?
There can be no other explanation for the painful way her stomach twists itself up whenever she catches a glimpse of him these days, the way he's consuming her every thought - even when she's dreaming she can't escape him. She can't get the sight of his tousled curls between her legs, his mischievous, warm brown eyes looking up at her as she had the most mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasm of her life - none of the times she's touched herself have ever come close to the sensations he managed to evoke.
Every time she's walking through the hallways between classes and hears his loud voice as he jokes with Garreth, or Ominis, about quidditch or Merlin-knows-what her eyes snap to his face as if he were the sun, and she a sunflower searching for its warmth. And he is most decidedly not the sun. He has the tendency to snort when he laughs, and he laughs too much, especially at his own jokes. Sometimes he talks while he eats. He always twirls his quill between his long fingers in the most annoying way, splattering ink onto any parchment unfortunate to be caught underneath. But he also...
He also always goes out of his way to prepare Ominis's Potions ingredients (why Ominis decided to take and was accepted into NEWT level is a mystery to everyone), occasionally stops to play a round of gobstones with Zenobia when he has the time. Sebastian can often be found in his favorite armchair in the Slytherin common room, resting his face on his hand as he idly flips through the pages of some book, looking altogether too handsome as he does so. And when he stretches and yawns at the end of every Arithmancy lesson - like he is now - his shirt lifts up a bit and she can see a tan sliver of his stomach and -
Snapping in front of her: she blinks and looks over: when she sees it's Imelda her face immediately turns beet red and she grabs the paper she's been doodling on and rips it to shreds as fast as she can.
"Are you fantasizing about a certain annoying someone?" Imelda asks with a wicked grin, dramatically looking over her shoulder at the certain someone in question. He's still stretching, blinking sleepily; when he notices the two girls watching him he flushes deeply. Her stomach twinges again at the sight of him noticing her - has he thought about her since that moment as much as she has? What would she do if he had? Or...if he hadn't? - and she focuses instead on the paper she is currently destroying.
"Imelda," she hisses, glaring at her best friend, "stop."
Imelda does not stop.
Imelda doesn't stop during their walk to Herbology, and she does not stop as they set up their planting stations, and she most certainly does not stop as they mutter charms over their plants.
Ever since she experienced the most wonderful moment in her whole life, followed by the most mortifying, Anne and Imelda have not stopped pestering her about it. They've finally solved the 'Sir Cadogan Puzzle' - I knew it was you all along, claims Anne - but if they truly knew what had happened between her and Sebastian, she's afraid the two of them would simply combust. She loves them dearly, but they never know when to stop, and they've been pushing and poking and prodding her for more information the whole week. She has managed to remain tight-lipped and, she hopes, mysterious about the whole thing, but she's getting tired of the teasing.
"Really," Anne says, wiping her forehead and leaving a trail of dirt behind, "if you would only talk to him, I would stop bothering you. Promise."
"Yes," chimes in Imelda, on her other side, wrestling the leaves of her own plant into submission. "You know, after we saw the two of you holding hands and looking at each other with stars in your eyes, I'm really starting to doubt that you hate him as much as you claim."
"Were the two of you snogging in secret all of last year too? Because, I'm starting to get annoyed thinking of all the times I had to talk to my brother for you because of your stubborn pride."
Does she still hate him? She certainly thinks she should, but then her thoughts get terribly confusing as she continues to think about him, and she realizes all of her old hatred has long since faded. Anne has forgiven her brother, Ominis has forgiven him, and all that remains is her.
They should talk, but she doesn't know what to say.
She's afraid that maybe the man she's been inventing in her mind this past month is simply a figment of her imagination - a fictitious being created by an accumulation of stolen glances when he doesn't know she's watching, someone who all of their classmates seem to like, someone who is very different from the fifteen-year-old boy she had that terrible argument with all that time ago. Maybe he doesn't actually exist.
She would be crushed if he's hiding the fact that he still holds on to that desperate darkness that had driven him to save Anne by any means necessary.
And so she keeps her space. She watches him from afar, feeling the hatred slowly melt off of her, falling more in love every day, but too cowardly to make the next move.
Anne and Imelda continue bantering on either side of her, not noticing - or, more likely, not caring - that she isn't participating.
Sebastian's hands are sweating. He wipes them on the inside of his robes as he glances at the girl next to him. She's holding herself rigidly, but she did this to herself, sitting next to him at dinner as she had.
Well, sitting next to him hadn't been completely her idea if he's being honest. He'd been having dinner with Anne, and the two of them were dying of laughter as she recounted seeing Duncan Hobhouse get tormented by Peeves earlier that day. One moment, Anne had been demonstrating what she had seen using her potatoes and green beans as props, and the next, a particularly evil grin had lit up her face as she pushed her plate away with gusto and jumped to her feet, calling her over.
"It would be such a shame for these potatoes to go to waste, seeing as I have a very important meeting to attend," Anne had said, after pushing her friend into the very tight space at Sebastian's side. "Never mind the mess, I can assure you I didn't actually eat the food..."
And with that, Anne had flounced away, Imelda on her arm, the two girls cackling to each other as they snuck wicked glances over their shoulders at the couple.
A couple who is now steadfastly avoiding each other and trying their hardest not to even brush elbows. Sebastian is altogether too aware of her presence, has been for the better part of a month, and his patience is dangerously close to snapping. He keeps getting maddeningly close to finally getting her to open up to him - had actually achieved it for a few blissful moments - just to have it be taken away again. It's almost embarrassing how many times he's thought about their encounter. She had been everything he'd been dreaming about and more - soft, responsive, just as desperate as him - so why has she been avoiding him so thoroughly?
Yes, he's caught her staring at him more times than he can count, with that same unfathomable expression she had before, almost dreamy - wistful - could it be love? But he knows that it's preposterous, wishful thinking on his part. If it were love - if she felt the same crazy, tumultuous emotions that he was feeling constantly - she wouldn't be so cold towards him. Even if she was staring at him more than ever before.
He doesn't notice as she slips a folded paper into the book sitting next to his plate, but he does notice that she sits next to him for barely five minutes, not even touching the food that Anne has so graciously left her, before she gets up and slips away without so much as speaking a single word to him, or even looking in his direction at all.
Sebastian's sitting in a nearly empty common room after curfew, flipping through his book as he normally does this time of day, when she sees him pause.
Although she's been waiting for this moment, watching him from the corner she's tucked herself away in, she feels ready to pass out from nerves. Her heart's ready to burst out of her chest as she watches him curiously pick up the letter she slipped in his book earlier, brow furrowed. She wrings her hands nervously as she watches him read the letter and flip over the page to see if there's more, and then he goes back to read it again from the beginning.
She wasn't expecting him to read it a second time, let alone a third time, still with an inscrutable expression on his face. Maybe she should have positioned herself closer so she could see every emotion flickering through his face as he reads - she's too far away to see anything and she curses her lack of foresight. If she moves now, he'll see her, and she doesn't even know what she was thinking when she wrote the letter, when she managed to convince Anne to help her get close to Sebastian earlier that night during supper, when she moved herself to sit in this corner just so she could watch him find and read the -
"Hello."
She nearly jumps out of her skin with a muffled shriek at the sound of his voice so close to her. Why does she feel almost guilty when she looks up at him? She's so, so afraid.
Emotions have never come easily to her. Showing them is something she's not sure will ever come naturally - Anne and Imelda can laugh and shout without a care in the world, but she always holds herself back. Hides a small part of herself away, that only she knows about. Baring herself completely to Sebastian in the letter she feverishly wrote the day before was like ripping out a part of her soul and giving it to him to keep. Once the words were written down, there was no way to take them back, not that she wants to.
But what if he rejects her?
Her eyes get hot and tears cloud her vision as she stares up at him, still wringing her hands together over and over, feeling like she's positively going to burst with the force of the emotions roiling around inside of her. Why did she think this would be a good idea?
Now he's kneeling in front of her, holding her hands in his bigger, rougher ones - reminiscent of that fateful day so long ago in Divination when he had flustered her so - and a thumb is gently wiping away the big, fat tears she didn't even realize were rolling down her cheeks and she lifts her face from watching their intertwined hands and gazes tremulously into his eyes.
They are so, so gentle and warm and full of love, but the emotions are still too much for her and she can't stop crying for some unfathomable reason, so the kiss they share is wet and lovely and full of incredulous laughter.
"I love you too," he whispers between kisses, over and over again, until the words almost lose meaning - but these words could never lose their meaning when they come from him.
 In the years to come, they always bicker about who was the first to say it. Sebastian says that writing doesn't count - that his words are the ones that decide who is the victor in this small argument - but she always just smiles at his insistence, knowing that he's kept her letter tucked inside whatever book he's reading since it first fell onto his lap.
#if I forgot any tags let me know#it is the bane of my existence the reason I hate posting thinfs#hope you like this one!!!! it was a lot of fun to write#and now I can get back to doing things since this has been removed from my brainđ#Iâm still kind of on hiatus here !!!!!!! đ„Čđ„Čđ„Čđ„Č#but I try to comment/hope I see a lot of whatâs posted !!#also if youâre the anon who sent me the ask I have 3k of my next chapter written & hopefully now that this is done I can get back to my fic#and Iâll post a little excerpt soonđđ#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanart#hphl#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts legacy oc#eloise babbit#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow fanart#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x reader#Sebastian sallow smut#sebastian sallow fic#hogwarts legacy fanfic
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Sins of The Flesh
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]
Wordcount: 3,000+
Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst
A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!
Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into troubleâand her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.
He was her very own Black G.I. Joeâsix feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimenâand completely hers.
That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mikeâs homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldnât keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.
He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.
It was Sunday morning, and as the preacherâs daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasnât there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.
He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.
When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.
She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.
âMorninâ, baby,â he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashesâlashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicateâfixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her.Â
âWhat time did you get in? I missed you,â she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldnât breathe without him there.
His facial hair, grown in during the week theyâd been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neckâa silent way of saying, "I missed you too."
They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. âWe gotta get up. Itâs almost eight.â
She groaned. âItâs too early.â
She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.
âCome on, we have to.â He patted her back gently.
âExcuse youâŠâ She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. âYou just got back and you're bossing me around. You havenât even kissed me yet.â
He wouldnât admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew heâd give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that muchâknew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.
âOh, you think youâre running the show now?â he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasnât the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.
âDuh. I thought you knew.â
He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.
âWho gave you command?â
His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.
âYou did.â She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this positionâhis hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and Iâll give you what you want.
He raised an eyebrow, âMe?â
âYeah,â She smirked, âYou disappeared so I had to improvise.â Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. âMaybe donât leave me hanging next time, huh?â
He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.
âWe gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.â
His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. âWhy are you talking about my father right now?â
âGet up.â His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.
She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldnât give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.
By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacherâs daughter.
Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasnât right, thinking these things in church, but she couldnât help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldnât stop herself from reminiscing about himâthe way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel.Â
The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.
By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. Sheâd waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but sheâd deal with that when the time came. He didnât say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.
âYouâve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?â
âWhat?âÂ
âYou heard me. You want it that bad?â He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddyâdominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didnât usually talk to her like this, but she couldnât deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.
She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. âI canât help it,â she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. âI need you, baby.âÂ
âI get it. I've been counting down the days too,â He promised. His voice was steady and calmâtoo calmâwhile she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously.Â
âI need more than just talk right now,â She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. Sheâd wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. âLater,â he had promised.
All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didnât seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damnedâ The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.
When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. âRelax,â he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmondâwho was always so eagerâwas telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to âdo all the workâ if she just let him inside? Â
She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.
âWhatâs this? You got an attitude now?â
She snapped before she could stop herself. âWhat do you think, Terry?â Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too longâshe had lost her damn mind.Â
âAny other time, you canât get enough of me, and now youâre acting like Iâve got the cooties. Whatâs going on with you?â
âWhat are you trying to get at?â he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mikeâs wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around.Â
What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all.Â
âFor real?â he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. âYou think Iâd do you like that?âÂ
Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasnât an issue. âSo, just because Iâm not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?â He looked at her like a wounded lion.
âI donât know, Terry,â she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. âIâm just frustrated, okay?â The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. âIâm sorry,â she added, her voice softening. âI know youâre not like that; I was just... I donât know.â
Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.
The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldnât begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything theyâd been through.
Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.
She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasnât interested in at all.
She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. âDonât be like that,â she pleaded.
She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. âIâm sorry. I was wrongâ so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldnât hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippinâ.â
He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. âYou really scared me with that.â He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. âI need you to understand that itâs not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.â
âI do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.â
âOkay,â he conceded after a minute, âJust keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. Weâre good.â Terryâs habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.
"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh waitâSir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.
âYou always know just how to push my buttons, donât you?â, he asked. âThatâs alright, though, because youâre still under my command, recruit.â He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap.Â
"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.
âNah, baby,â he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, âYou got a little too bold and need a reminder of whoâs running things.â
Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldnât go easy on her.
As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. âBut sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.â
She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadnât been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed,ïżœïżœ and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right â she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.
Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles.Â
âI get that youâre used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,â Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom.Â
"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.
Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of itâ the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady.Â
âIâm so sorry,â She whined, squirming in his lap. âI didn't mean it!â He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. âI know you didnât plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.â
He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. âFuck!â She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didnât help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time.Â
âRemember Iâm doing this because I love you.â
âYou need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?â
âStay exactly like that, donât move.â
âI know it hurts. Itâs supposed to.â
âHere, grab this pillow.â
She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out.Â
As the spanking continued, Rileyâs breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. âYouâre okay. Weâre almost done. Are you really as sorry as youâre claiming?â
âYes, Daddy,â She whimpered, already imagining how sore sheâd be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.
âRepeat after me,â Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. âSay âIâll be a good girl and listen.ââ She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. âI understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..â She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.
She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldnât recall the last thing heâd said. She had hit her breaking point. Â
She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.
âYou good?âÂ
Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okayâ physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray.Â
âIâll do better,â she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.
"Thatâs my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didnât get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.
âCome on, pretty. Iâll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.â
Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.
Part 2
#rebel ridge#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond x black!reader#rebel ridge fanfiction#terry Richmond x black oc#Terry Richmond x black reader
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I See You - Tara Carpenter
Part 2 of I Dare You
Summary: At one of Amber's infamous parties, Tara's feelings get more and more complicated as she starts getting to know you.
Warnings: Fem!Painter!Reader, slow burn, mentions of sex, alcohol and partying, minor angst, non canon/high school
w.c: 6.9k
So, the glitch in the matrix seemed to be lasting much longer than you anticipated.
You did your best to forget the interaction you'd had with Tara and, honestly, that hadn't been such a difficult task. You still had a life, after all, and the rest of your day was divided into making preparations for the volunteering you'd be doing at the hospital during the weekend, studying and trying to make any progress on your painting.
Unfortunately, the last task proved itself to be annoyingly impossible, no matter how hard you tried. You'd tried everything from throwing random brushstrokes at the canvas to staring at the blank space while upside down in your bed, which filled your brain with blood but not with ideas.
There came a point when you had to admit defeat, at least for a day, and you picked up your phone to try to distract yourself from what seemed to be your greatest artistic failure. Your plans were to doomscroll through all possible social media and try to get the slightest bit of inspiration, but your attention was grabbed by a text notification coming from your Instagram.
From the username, it was clear that the text had been from none other than Tara Carpenter, which made your heart race a little in response. Your profile was a bit hard to find because there were no photos of you, which meant that Tara specifically had to look for you for a while. What's more, your profile was basically an exhibition of your artwork and the idea of someone other than your friends and teacher looking at all your projects made you a little anxious.
The texts themselves contained nothing much, apart from Tara apologizing for taking your pen (which you didn't even remember lending, to be honest) and then trying to strike up a conversation by asking you about Freddy vs Leatherface. Even so, noticing that she'd made an effort to keep on talking to you left you swooning.
You answered, of course. It would be rude to leave someone on read, wouldn't it? And besides, you were already planning to procrastinate anyway, so why not be nice and talk to Tara for a few minutes?
Who cares if minutes became hours, right?
And when school started the next day, you felt lighter, somehow. To your relief, no one seemed to remember your disastrous stumble the day before (probably because few people remembered you in general) and so you didn't have to deal with any giggles or weird looks.
You were in the middle of getting some books out of your locker when a familiar pen levitated into your field of vision. Your gaze followed the tanned arm that was holding it and you were met with long eyelashes and a sly smile.
âI'm a woman of my word! Here's your pen.â Tara raised the object towards you, making a funny reference to the text she had sent you the day before.
You rolled your eyes in amusement, although you couldn't hold the expression for long due to the corners of your lips lifting involuntarily. You took the small item from her hand and quickly put it in your bag. âThanks, it's good to know you're not a thief. Did you at least bring one pen today?â
She understood the light, false accusatory tone in your voice and raised her hand, showing two fingers raised in a V. âHaha. Just so you know, I brought two today.â
It was amazing how instantaneous and right that conversation felt, almost as if it was the kind of thing you did all the time and not for the first time. Talking to Tara was surprisingly easy and you could see at least a friendship blooming between you in the near future.
If it weren't for the fact that she hangs out with the most insufferable people in the world, of course.
The reminder of Tara's group of friends hit you like a thunderbolt and made your chest ache for some reason. The words of both Ethan and Mindy echoed in your head, warning you to be careful, but a large chunk of your mind also insisted on reminding you of Anika's more positive opinion on the topic.
You turned to your locker again, pretending you were looking for something that didn't even exist. âI could never manage with just one pen.â You added politely, not wanting to leave Tara's joke unanswered just because your thoughts were getting muddled.
âI know. Artist and all, aren't you?â The girl nodded and you could see out of the corner of your eye as she leaned on the locker next to you, crossing her arms while still looking at you with a thoughtful expression. âHey, don't you feel like going to a party tonight?â
Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as you processed what she had said, but Tara remained completely unbothered by your side. As far as you knew, the Carpenter girl didn't usually throw parties, but Amber Freeman did, and she'd instituted a very specific rule about them ever since she'd thrown the first one during your freshman year:
Invite only. No losers allowed.
And, as far as you knew, in Amber's opinion you were included in the word âlosersâ.
âI don't think so.â You shook your head. âAmber's throwing this party, isn't she? I don't have an invitation and I don't even like parties that much.â
Tara laughed out loud at that, causing a few heads to turn in your direction and your cheeks to heat up like coals. âI'm inviting you, ain't I? and seriously! I've never even seen you at the boring school parties, how are you supposed to know if you like parties or not without ever having tried them?â
Okay, you weren't expecting Tara to rebut your arguments or be so insistent about your presence. Was it getting warmer or was it just your impression? âBut... I don't even know anyone who's going, I'll probably just stand in the corner the whole night. And also, I have an appointment the next day, I can't, like, go wild...â
Unexpectedly, Tara let out an even louder laugh, this time even wiping away a tear that ran down her cheek. âGo wild? You're hilarious.â She controlled her breathing, still keeping a bright smile on her face. âYou don't have to drink if you don't want to, no one's going to force you. And about the being alone part, you can invite those friends of yours. Amber won't mind, she wants more people at her parties anyway and she refuses to call sophomores and below.â
You looked at her with surprise and suspicion. Invite your friends? Did Tara remember that your friends included Mindy Meeks-Martin? Like, basically Amber's number one enemy, Mindy Meeks-Martin?
Tara finally noticed your wary expression and sighed, uncrossing her arms and raising both hands in a peaceful gesture. âLook, Amber said I could invite nice people and I think you're nice. She'll be busy with other things anyway, she probably won't even notice that your friends are there.â
You bit your lower lip, considering your options. On the one hand, parties weren't exactly your natural habitat and you still had your doubts about whether or not you were welcome there. On the other hand, Tara had been so kind to you lately and... for some reason, you wanted to explore it a little further.
âCan I give you an answer later? I'll ask my friends if they're going.â That's what you decided to answer, choosing to leave your conflicting future in the hands of your dear companions.
Tara nodded a yes and complemented the action with a shrug. âOkay. But even if they decide not to go, I think you should give it a chance.â
Suddenly, the bell for the first period echoed in the corridors, waking you both up to the fact that you had to be in your classrooms in a few seconds. As lockers closed and teenagers ran to avoid being late, Tara lazily turned around and started walking away, ending your interaction.
But you didn't want it to end so soon. In a impulsive act, you raised your voice. âWhat should I wear?â
Tara turned as soon as she heard you and her eyes slowly traveled up and down your body as a smile worthy of the Cheshire cat broke out on her face. âWear something pretty! But I think you were already going to do that anyway.â
System crash. Your brain shortcutted. Did Tara had just...? No, she couldn't have possibly... checked you out? Were you seeing things?
As Tara's back got further and further down the corridor, you ran back to your classroom, muttering on the way, âGod, I'm really not your strongest soldier.â
_
âI need to ask you something.â
You were extremely nervous. Your fingers kept drumming on the table and your brain was desperately trying to think of a way to convince your friends to A) go to Amber's party with you and B) not think you were out of your mind.
Tara's words (and her actions, by the way) really made you consider that crazy possibility. On any other occasion, you would have denied it as quickly as possible and then run away, but you were finding that Tara Carpenter could be extremely convincing.
Mindy swallowed a piece of the sandwich she was holding, making a dismissive gesture with her hands. âIâve told you before, we have no interest in a throuple.â
Sitting next to her with her feet propped up on her girlfriend's lap, Anika raised an eyebrow and smiled playfully. âWho says we don't?â
âWhat?!â Both Mindy and Ethan shouted, although the girl clearly got the joke and was just going along with it, while the boy seemed really bothered by the idea. You and Anika let out a loud chuckle and you smiled at her in appreciation, knowing that she had joked around just to make you less nervous.
With the mood more relaxed, you took a deep breath and said the words in rapid fire, fearing that they would never come out if you lingered too long. âTara invited me to Amber's party and she said I could invite you guys. Would you go with me? Please?â
âAbsolutely not.â Mindy quickly denied your request, putting on an angry expression. âAnd why would you want to go to a party like that, anyway?â
âThat's right, only assholes go to that kind of thing.â Ethan agreed with the girl, looking equally annoyed by your suggestion.
Your eyes turned to Anika in a plea for help and she nodded almost imperceptibly. Opening her famous warm smile that reached her eyes, she grabbed Mindy's arm and pouted. âPleeeeeeeeeeeease, I've always wanted to go to a party like this. We can just go and laugh at people being dumb.â
âWe can laugh at people being dumb at school literally all the time, I don't need to be at Amber Freeman's house for that.â Mindy objects, but it's obvious that she's already starting to give in to her girlfriend's charms by the way her face looks more peaceful.
Anika looked in your direction and you understood that you would have to stay in that ping pong game of arguments until the other two gave in. âAmber won't even notice we were there! Tara said there would be too many people for her to handle.â
âAaaand,â Anika added, moving even closer to Mindy, almost sitting on her lap on that narrow wooden bench. âOur theme for the A.V club project is literally young and reckless! What's more young and reckless than Amber's parties?! We'll get some great material if we go!â
Mindy considered the proposal for long seconds that left you on the edge of your seat. You knew Ethan would probably go if you all did, so it was really all in the Meeks-Martin girl's hands.
Finally, she sighed and rolled her eyes, slipping an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. âOkay, I'll go. But Iâm warning you, if Amber even looks in my direction, I won't answer for myself.â
Anika squealed, grabbing Mindy's face and pulling her close to kiss her cheek, which clearly got the girl flustered even though she only replied with an âalright, alrightâ. You smiled at this, feeling a mixture of amusement and relief at knowing that your friends had agreed to embark with you on this madness.
Ethan hadn't necessarily agreed yet, but when you looked in his direction, he sighed dramatically, so that his brown curls moved with the wind. âIf you're both going, I think I'll go to keep y/n company. So she won't be a third wheel and won't be bothered by idiots, you know?â
You thanked the boy with a pat on the shoulder and his smile automatically widened. Across the table, Mindy laughed. âOh, I don't think you have to worry about y/n getting third wheeled, Ethan. Tara invited her, did you forget?â
âHoly shit. I have to tell Tara.â You remembered your conversation with the girl earlier, rushing into her DMs and completely ignoring the jokes and teasing from the girls in front of you.
You just hoped they could also ignore your completely flustered behavior.
 _
We're going!
A simple message had made Tara's day a thousand times better. She'd forgotten how insufferable Amber could be on party days, as well as the fact that Liv had spent the whole day acting like a pick-me-girl because Chad had been spending much more time on his phone than with her lately.
She'd put her best Casanova act into play when she'd spoken to you earlier, but somehow your sense of humor made her break character and just act like herself, which was something she couldn't remember doing so freely in a long time.
Of course she had appealed for a bit of her charm at the end, but she just couldn't hold back when you had opened up such a perfect opening for her to flirt.
âYou should really thank me, you know that?â A familiar voice whispered close to her ear and soon pale arms wrapped around her neck in a grip that bordered on uncomfortable. âI basically handed you your challenge on a platter by letting you invite those weirdos.â
Tara was annoyed by the comment and she quickly disentangled herself from the hug, bumping into Amber and her devilish expression. The shorter girl huffed, fixing her clothes and hair as if that was the real reason she had walked away.
At least this time she didn't turn red. That was progress.
âShut up. If anything happens, it'll be my merit.â Tara slung her bag over her shoulder, walking along with Amber and the other students to the exit after another tiring Friday of classes.
The taller girl didn't even mind Tara's protests, shaking her head as if she didn't believe the freckled girlâs words. âAnyway, at least you'll be busy while I'm doing someone and won't be bothering me the next day.â
They walked out the door and fortunately Tara could already see Sam's car parked not far away. The girl turned her face in the opposite direction of her friendâs, pretending it was due to the sun and hoping Amber hadn't seen the pained expression on her face. âWhatever. See you later, Freeman.â
âSee you later, Carpenter!â Amber shouted back, but Tara didn't turn around to wave goodbye and kept her head down until she reached the old sedan her mother used to drive. At least that was until she was no longer sober enough to hold a steering wheel.
Inside the car, Sam raised her head when she heard the door open and close after Tara got into the passenger seat. She started to back out of the parking lot, occasionally glancing at her younger sister who seemed to be upset beside her. âSo... how was school?â
âDon't fucking start.â Tara muttered, putting on her headphones in a quick move to isolate herself from the world and from an older sister who suddenly wanted to be there for her after abandoning her alone with an alcoholic for a year.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head on the window, trying not to think about how Amber really got on her nerves sometimes, or think about the guilt that was starting to rise up inside her after being rude to Sam for nothing. Why couldn't her mind stop working for just one minute?
But as she tried to make her own thoughts go blank, a pleasant memory surfaced. Tara remembered your conversation earlier, the way you could understand each other's moods and how genuinely happy she was that you were going to the party for her.
Maybe, if she just kissed you and hid the real reason behind everything, you could even be friends after all. Maybe she could even convince Amber that you were a nice person, so that you could hang out with them.
Of course, these were only wishful thinking, but Tara wanted peace and, at the moment, the utopian idea of having you around gave her that exact feeling.Â
_
âOkay, now give me a spin.â
You turned in your place at Anika's request, being mindful to not to get out of the sight of your phone camera, which was leaning awkwardly on your desk. Your room was a mess of clothes scattered all over the place, highlighting your intense search to decide on the perfect outfit to wear for the party.
âSo?â You asked your friend, who had her attention split between the video call and her own elaborate makeup.
Anika seemed to finish her analysis on your look while you were about to start trembling with anxiety. You trusted the girl's fashion sense more than anything and you swore you could have started crying if she said that your outfit wasn't good. Fortunately, her response was a positive nod and a satisfied grin. âOh, you look so cute!â
You looked down, once again staring at the outfit you had chosen, which was a comfortable one, but neat enough to let people know that you had put some effort into dressing up.
Receiving compliments had never exactly been your strong suit, but as much as you felt awkward about Anika's comment, you couldn't get Tara's recommendation out of your head. âYeah, but do I look pretty?â
âOf course you do! Cute, pretty, it's all the same!â
You frowned, still feeling annoyed. Fashion had never exactly been your forte and that fact was your Achilles heel at the moment, since you still weren't convinced that âcuteâ and âprettyâ were the same thing. In your opinion, Tara seemed to be the type who liked pretty girls, but not cute girls.
Or maybe it didn't make any sense at all and you were just going crazy at the thought of spending the next few hours in a house full of people you either didn't know or didn't like. Besides, when did you start caring about the kind of girl Tara liked?
âI can hear your thoughts from here, you know?â Anika called out, making your head snap out of that internal cycle of overthinking. âIs this all to impress Tara?â
âUgh.â You grunted, flopping onto your bed oblivious to the dozens of clothes that were crumpling under your body. âNo? Maybe? I don't know.â
You felt ashamed of the situation, even though you knew Anika wasn't the judgmental type. Your feelings were still confusing and you definitely didn't feel ready to admit that you thought about Tara more than you should, but there was also no way to hide something that was so obvious.
âHey, it's okay, you know? Actually, I'm glad to see you're interested in someone.â Anika replied kindly, which made you work up the courage to sit up, staring at your friend's genuine expression through the screen. âI know you're worried about Mindy and all, but Chad's always nice to me when I go to their house and it was super easy to do some school work with Wes for our calc class.â
She continued, âWhat I mean is that Tara could still be a nice girl for you, no matter how much there's this Romeo and Juliet thing going on between our groups.â
âIt's not that. I mean, it is a bit, but also...â You sighed, trying hard not to run your hands through your hair and make it look messy. â... I don't think she'd be interested in me. I mean, she's been giving me these signals but, I don't know, maybe she does it with everyone?â
Anika tsked, shaking her head and giving you a playful smile. âI've never heard of Tara being a player.â
You groaned again, turning your face away as if the act would somehow stop you from feeling so flustered. Anika laughed in response. âJust enjoy the moment! You already know she's the straight forward type, don't you? If she wants something from you, I'm sure she'll get it.â
âAnika!â You shrieked, appalled by what she was inferring. Your entire face seemed to be engulfed in lava as your friend laughed even louder at the clear shock you expressed.
âWhat?! The world needs more people like that, you know? That's why I'm going to take the initiative to run away to a corner with Mindy at the first opportunity and-.â
âEw! No! Stop talking! Please, you're my mother figures!â
_
The walls of the house seemed to shake under Tara's fingers as she leaned on it, making her way to the bathroom in slow, crooked steps as she cursed quietly at the amount of people crowding into the hallway.
They were screaming with joy, slurring the lyrics of the extremely loud song that was playing on the huge speakers in the living room, echoing throughout the house and possibly the entire block. Thank God, Wes had already taken care of his mother.
Tara groaned the whole way, feeling like pushing away all the sweaty, alcohol-altered people who bumped into her shoulder, unable to see properly through the colored lights that made the place look like a nightclub. She sighed in relief when she finally found the bathroom, opening the door and locking herself inside without caring about the noise it made.
She turned on the lights and leaned on the sink with both hands, leaning over to look at her reflection in the mirror, with tired eyes and her bangs sticking to her forehead from sweat. God, how could she have been so shaken up by a measly hour of partying? She used to be able to take a lot more.
But she also knew exactly what had led up to it and the smell of alcohol on her lips wouldn't let her lie. She thought she was going to have more fun, but her evening became much more difficult after she saw Amber stick her tongue down the throats of at least three people right in front of her, making a point of giving Tara a thumbs-up afterwards, almost as if she was trying to annoy her friend on purpose.
Tara tried everything to make herself less bothered. She'd danced, she'd watched some people play 7 minutes in heaven, she'd even flirted with a few people just for fun, but in the end, what had stopped her blood from pounding furiously in her ears had been the beers stocked in Amber's basement fridge.
She stopped after the third one, after she felt tipsy enough. She didn't want to be her mother's daughter, who didn't know her own limits and fell asleep on the living room carpet because she didn't have the strength to walk to her own room. And the drinks helped for a while, but now that the sweat had evaporated the effect of the alcohol on herself, her headache left her one scream or punch away from going insane.
Tara splashed water on her face, oblivious to the fact that her makeup was getting smudged or her bangs got even wetter. At this point, she no longer cared about much other than surviving the rest of the night.
Once she had pulled herself together, she sighed and left the bathroom, expecting to be dragged into the living room by the crowd of teenagers dancing and jumping around like wild animals, but instead she ended up being bumped in the opposite direction, almost knocking her off balance.
âOh my God, I'm sorry!â Gentle hands rushed to hold Tara up before she fell and she followed the length of the arms with her eyes until she bumped into a familiar face. It was you, who was now staring at Tara with a frown. The girl couldn't help herself and looked you up and down, mentally appreciating the way you were dressed.
You quickly took your hands off Tara's shoulders, rubbing them anxiously. The girl felt a tug in her chest as she remembered that she had invited you and you most likely should have spent all this time looking for her, while she was drinking and whining about not having the attention of the biggest bitch in Woodsboro. Drunk and abandoning people? Wow, the Carpenter women's genes never fail.
âI didn't realize you'd already arrived.â Tara broke the awkward silence, mentally thanking you for being upstairs and being able to talk without having to shout over the hip hop track playing in the living room.
You looked away, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. âYeah. It's been a while.â
Tara nodded, feeling a little disappointed in herself as she realized that you had clearly been annoyed by her absence. She tried to strike up a conversation again, wishing she could somehow put a smile on your face. âWhat brings you upstairs? Not enjoying the energy of the party?â
âI was looking for the bathroom.â You sighed, hugging your elbows. âActually, I was more looking to escape to the bathroom, because I was planning to hide there until my friends decided to leave.â
âYou really donât like parties, huh?â Tara joked, but the smile on her face hardened when she realized that you hadn't laughed along with her.
Tara felt terrible. Sure, you'd only had a few interactions before, but all of them had proved that you could understand each other easily. Now, Tara didn't know if it was the party, if it was her or something else that had made you look so uncomfortable, but she was determined to make it up to you for being an idiot.
âYou know, I think I have a better hiding place than a small bathroom.â She leaned towards you, as if she was sharing a secret. âAre you interested?â
You scrutinized the girl's face and she couldn't help but be disappointed that you didn't even seem to be affected by your proximity as you usually would. Your arms were crossed as you felt suspicious of her offer. âDon't you have to go back to the party?â
Tara made a dismissive gesture with her hand and started walking down the large hallway, looking for a specific room. âNah, I've been to so many of these that it's lost itâs spark to me.â
Technically, it wasn't a lie. Tara was sick of that party and she'd love to have a distraction from the fact that Amber was now probably at her body count number 100 and Tara wasn't talking about dead people. But then again, she felt strangely committed to making you have at least a little fun and she really liked your company.
Maybe it was just because she felt bad for having invited you in the first place. Yeah, that must be it.
She opened Amber's bedroom door, barging in without hesitation and heading straight for the window, opening it all the way. Behind her, you seemed slightly alarmed by the idea of simply invading the personal space of a girl who could make your life a living hell. âUhâŠâ
But before you could really protest, Tara put one leg out of the window, glancing in your direction with a playful smile. âTrust me. Youâre not scared, are you?â
âIâm not scared, but trusting you? After you invited me to a party youâre trying to escape?â you replied, making Tara's smile widen as she realized you were starting to open up again. âAnd what are you doing at the window, Rapunzel?â
Tara chuckled, pointing your way. âWait and see.â
In a swift motion, she raised her hands to the roof platform above her head, pushing off Amber's window with her feet to gain enough momentum to pull herself up with extra effort from her arms. Still holding onto the edge, Tara hung upside down, looking at you through the window with her bangs sticking up. âSo, are you coming or not?â
You snorted lightly with the sight, shaking your head as you approached the window. âIâm no Spider-Man. If I fall from here, itâll be your fault, and I hope they write it down as homicide.â
âGood to know you have so much faith in me.â Tara answered, kneeling on the roof tiles and extending her hand for you to grab. You hesitated for a few seconds, and honestly, Tara couldnât blame you for it, but she kept looking at you expectantly, trying to communicate with her eyes. Let me make things right with you.
She almost sighed in relief when you finally grabbed her forearm, letting her help you up slowly, pretending not to notice how her hands ended up on your hips. All in the name of making your night a little less boring, of course.
But wow, your body felt... warm.
It didnât take long for you to pull away from Tara, clearing your throat and sitting on the roof beside her. It would be hard to stand for long due to the slope, but the spot was comfortable enough for you to sit or lie down without the risk of rolling off.
The roof was quite high, not tall enough for you to see the entire city, for example, but high enough that the people below you looked like tiny ants. Ants that were dancing, having fun, and throwing cups of beer at each other.
âDo you come here often?â you broke the silence, but Tara saw the exact moment you winced, realizing way too late the double meaning of your words. âI didnât mean⊠I wasnâtâŠâ
âItâs all good.â Tara laughed, considering saying something to tease you even more, but she ultimately decided against it , feeling a bit sorry for your embarrassed state. âAnd no, to answer your question. I used to spend a lot more time up here before, but nowâŠâ
She let the sentence trail off, lost in her own thoughts. Maybe the last time she had been on that roof was the day Sam had gone to rehab, two years ago. Which, looking back now, was probably around the same time Amber stopped being a caring friend and started being the friend that thought Tara complained too much.
The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few more secondsâor as quiet as it could be with two massive speakers blasting music two floors below. Tara glanced to the side, staring at your face, which seemed more focused on the starry sky, illuminated only by a few beams of moonlight.
Like she had felt in the car earlier, that sight gave her peace. It wasnât like looking at Amber, which made her feel like her organs were being squeezed and thrown into an erupting volcano. Looking at you made her feel like a sea breeze was brushing against her face, a comforting, peaceful gust of wind.
Taraâs eyes drifted down to your lips, and she had to run her tongue across her own. Amberâs challenge lingered in the back of her mind, and she was tempted to test if your kiss would be a better distraction than the cheap beer sheâd grabbed from the basement.
But suddenly, Tara felt self-conscious. Maybe it was the fact that the idea had been Amberâs, and she was still too annoyed with the girl to give her the satisfaction of being right. Maybe it was because she could still taste the alcohol in her mouth and didnât want you to taste it too.
Or maybe it was something else. Something gentler and softer that even Tara couldnât quite describe yet.
âOh, look!â Tara snapped out of her own thoughts when she saw you excitedly pointing at the sky. âYou can see Orion so clearly!â
She followed the direction of your hand with her eyes, feeling confused about what exactly she was supposed to be looking at. That particular night was cloudless, which made the vast array of stars shining in the dark sky exceptionally beautiful.
You noticed the lost expression on the girlâs face beside you and chuckled. âOrion? The constellation?â
âOh, yeah. I⊠I know.â Tara just nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed for not being sure what you were referring to. She knew what a constellation was, of course, but she had never studied them in much detail, and in her eyes, all she could see in the sky were random stars, beautiful but completely scattered.
You laughed again, not buying Taraâs excuse for a second after seeing how confused her eyes looked. Gently, your hand held hers as you started pointing out the constellation with both of your hands joined together.
âSee those three stars close together? Thatâs what we call Orionâs belt. Itâs much easier to spot the rest of the constellation starting from there. Up there, kind of making a triangle, you have Meissa, Betelgeuse, and Bellatrix, and if you look to the side, it kinda looks like heâs holding a bow.â
Tara wanted to pay attention to your explanation, but her brain turned to mush the moment your hands got entangled, and her heart started pounding like the drums in a heavy metal song. You, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware of the action, which made Tara feel even more like an idiot.
Wow, what was in those drinks?
âYou really know a lot about this,â she said, trying to sound normal, even though her voice felt like it could crack at any moment. You smiled at the comment, letting go of her hand to play with your fingers in your lap.
âOne day, I had this brilliant idea to paint constellations on my bedroom ceilingâor at least most of themâand I had to do a ton of research to make sure it looked right.â You laughed, and Tara realized she wanted to hear that sound more and more.
âItâs cool that youâre a painter. Itâs different.â She wanted to keep the conversation going, eager to learn more about any detail you were willing to offer, but she didnât exactly know what to say. For someone who usually had no trouble expressing herself, Tara seemed to have forgotten her entire vocabulary.
Luckily, you seemed to be in the opposite situation, feeling comfortable enough to keep talking. âI guess so? Iâve never thought much about it before. Painting is a lot more than just a hobby for meâitâs more like a safe haven, you know?â
Tara nodded instead of giving a verbal response, especially because she knew exactly what you were talking about, but she didnât have the words to express how much she needed a conversation like thisâso simple, yet so healing.
She reached into the pocket of her jacket, slowly pulling out her phone. âCan I take a picture of the constellation?â Tara asked, mentally kicking herself when she heard how vulnerable her voice sounded.
Her tone didnât go unnoticed by you, and you looked at her with a bit of confusion, but soon after, your eyes softened, shining with kindnessâalmost as bright as the stars above your heads. âYou donât have to ask me to take pictures of the sky, but do you want me to point it out again?â
âSorry, old habit.â She shook her head to snap out of it, feeling her cheeks heating up as she started opening the camera app and aiming it upward. âBut yeah, please.â
Slowly and gently, you took Taraâs hands again, working together with her to make sure the constellation was perfectly centered. You were close enough for Tara to catch the pleasant scent of your perfume, but she forced herself to stay focused on the picture you two were trying to capture.
After a few successful shots of Orion (which Tara planned to edit later to make it more visible and color-corrected), the two of you lay down side by side, admiring the nightâs beauty in another moment of shared, comfortable silence.
_
Now, the silence inside Samâs car wasnât as comfortable.
It was the first time Tara had asked Sam to pick her up from a party, especially as late as 2 AM, considering the younger Carpenter always used to sleep over at Amberâs once everything wrapped up.
But after you left, Tara completely lost the desire to stay. The music was dull, she had no interest in drinking or playing any games, and she definitely didnât want to be around her friends anymore.
She sat in a thoughtful silence, her head resting against the window, watching as the asphalt disappeared behind the car doors. The soft hum of the engine served as background noise since Tara didnât have her precious headphones, but sheâd spent enough time around loud music for the night anyway, so her ears were begging for a break.
âDid you⊠have fun?â Sam asked cautiously, as if Tara were a wounded animal that might lash out at any moment. The younger girl sighed, feeling guilty for being the reason behind the hostile distance between them.
She already felt guilty about enough things. Maybe it was time to start lifting some of that weight off her shoulders.
âI guess I did.â She nodded, watching Samâs surprised expression at her genuine response. The look made her seem younger, reminding Tara that Sam wasnât that much older than her. Now that she thought about it, she couldnât remember seeing Sam so carefree since sheâd returned, but her anger hadnât exactly allowed her to notice the little details. âI had a good time.â
âGood,â Sam replied, trying to hide a satisfied smile from tugging at the corner of her lips. In the passenger seat, Tara did the same, feeling a tiny bit of happiness from the small progress theyâd made. Small steps were important.
The car fell silent again, but it felt less heavy, and Tara figured it was because Sam was tired and still had to focus on the road for at least another 10 minutes. Taking advantage of the pause, the younger Carpenter pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket, going straight to her gallery and searching for the pictures she had taken earlier.
Most of them were of the sky, capturing the fateful (and now familiar to Tara) constellation of Orion, which made her think of the feeling of your hands on hers. Two others, however, were a bit more personal for her.
She zoomed in on the photo, staring at the profile of your face bathed in moonlight as you smiled brighter than the stars. She had taken the picture in secret, an impulsive urge to capture not just the moment, but you. Tomorrow, she could blame it on the alcohol, but tonight, she would give herself the privilege of gazing at your carefree expression for a few long seconds.
You had probably spent hours talking on the roof, and yet it still didnât feel like enough. Tara wanted more. She needed more. Even though sheâd never considered herself to be possessive or clingy, she couldnât help but want to explore every little piece of your world as if it were the most beautiful piece of art.
A sudden thought crossed her mind, and Tara quickly opened Instagram, this time taking her time to scroll through and really appreciate each of your paintings. As she studied the pieces you had displayed, she mentally kicked herself for not having done it sooner. It was clear that you drew inspiration from the Renaissance, and that people were your greatest muse. There were few self-portraits, but Tara recognized some of your friends in the works.
She was so captivated that she felt a strong urge to knock on your door and ask you to tell her the story behind each one, just for the pleasure of hearing your voice. But, well, it was 2 AM, and she didnât even know where you lived.
And, of course, she wasnât that crazy.
Still, she decided to slide into your DMs, sending you five of the photos you had taken of the sky, taking the opportunity to wish you a good night. Would sending a heart emoji be too much? She decided against it. The photos would be enough.
But Tara still wasnât satisfied with her exploration, so she ventured into your stories, looking for anything that could give her more reasons to talk to you. It turned out to be a great decision, because she struck gold.
You had posted an announcement from Woodsboro Central Hospital earlier, calling for volunteers for a special event dedicated to bringing joy to children hospitalized with cancer. The flyer said that any help was welcome, from telling stories to dressing up as superheroes, and Tara couldnât stop wondering what you had signed up to do.
Without wasting any time, she navigated to the hospitalâs profile, hoping they were still accepting applications even though she was texting them literally seven hours before the event.
Hi, Iâm interested in volunteering! Would you need a photographer?
#scream#scream vi#scream 2022#scream x reader#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter imagine#scream imagine#scream x you#scream x yn#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega imagine#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega
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ephemeral.
for your information: author!abby x editor!fem!reader. professionals with a very strained relationship. abby and reader drinking a little but completely coherent + sober still. haters-to-lovers, semi-public, outdoor sex. bratty!reader. fingering (r!receiving). steamy make out session. clichés ahead. pet names used: baby, good girl, various insults tbh. 2.8K WC.
đđđđ đđđđđđ, had this idea for like, a whole year now. oops. just love autumnal/dark academia type shit and abby is my favourite bookworm. abby picture by @/tpicsl on pinterest. MASTERLIST.
Creativity is fickle. Abby knows it better than anyone.
Her mind is her greatest asset. It is a hidden strength; everybody thinks they have her figured out just by glancing at her. The woman is built of brawn and steadily-sculpted muscle, but it is merely a peek into her real power.
Abby's appearance is a reflection of dedication, an application of self-discipline trained over many moons.
Her brain is her might. Her will to excel. It is a library of all the things she has loved, words she has read, stories she has heard.
And the result is an author of applaudable talent. Yet, her reputation precedes herâshe is not easy to work with.
Abby has published four books so far in her career, but she's been through twice the amount of editors in that time. Nothing could ever stunt her rise to fame, no matter how many claims were made against the woman's cocky, self-gratified nature. Abby Anderson is a household name.
But as her most long-standing editor, you must agree with the rumours. Working for Abby is a living nightmare.
Creativity is fickle. Abby refuses to let anybody impede on her artistry. If they do not see her vision, she will throw a fit. Writing is her gift, and god forbid someone attempts to critique it. She rejects all common writing adviceâshould anyone attempt to tell her to 'kill her darlings', Abby will send back a heated, passive aggressive email.
You let her have her freedom. That is the difference between you and other editors. Perhaps they don't see the vision like you do, and absolutely not like Abby does. You will remove what is only necessary, and maybe there are small disagreements every so often, but you have proven yourself to have the wit that matches Abby's perplexity.
You do not leech on herâsucking the life and rareness out of her words, only to brag and drag her name through the mud. Even Abby will admit that you are the most pleasant editor to work with.
But god, she almost burnt you out.
Impossible deadlines, communicating at only the most iniquitous hours. Whether it was a high-priority email at midnight or two-thousand words to be read and fixed by the end of the day, she was a prick. On purpose.
And why? Well, even though your furious emails would raise her hackles, she began to realise she actually enjoyed reading them. You've got quite the attitude. It certainly tickles her dry sense of humour, after all. Everything you say is professional, so as to not raise alarm, but it's laced with just enough venom to sting.
Her personal favourite email, which she immediately starred, is the one in which you were complaining about her constantly quoting you in her own book.
'Miss Anderson, I do not find you as funny as you think you are. I would like to be taken seriously when I voice my concerns about your ill-treatment of my service, as flattering as it may be that I have inspired your work. 'Please see attached the edited draft as requested. Â 'P.S. I do believe you ought to get some sleep. Sending a draft at 03:30 is not acceptable.'
It's just not fiery enough to halt her efforts.
Somehow, you made it out alive. Pulled yourself out of quicksand with that heavy load on your back. You have lived long enough to be present tonight.
Today marks the highly anticipated release of Abby Anderson's fifth release, her newest standalone title following her critically acclaimed series. Many reviews seem to say she just keeps getting better, while others written in unkempt fury detest her for writing in a way that feels almost pretentious nowadays.
Abby's clearly had a day full of bustling conversation, hundreds of well wishes. She signed so many copies of her book that her wrist aches of overuse. She made it through, thank goodness, and the hour of relaxation has finally arrived.
The release party.
Who doesn't love a party? A warm celebration filled with prideful chit-chat, her family and friends, and competitors masking their envy with tight-lipped smiles and side-eyes.
All that and a splash of champagne to take the edge off.
Your heels crunch flaxen leaves in your path to the door, streams of fading sunlight painting the yacht club in warm golds and gingers. It's a remotely calm evening save for the seaside breeze. The trees whistle and you can hear the faint sound of pastoral waves clashing with the cliffside.
Your inner-voice begs for a few moments more stood outside the party. You could give yourself some grace, a fleeting moment to prepare for the questioning and disrespect you'll receive.
You think back to a charity event Abby hosted once. You met a man who spoke with blatant indiscretion about Abby's writing, and admittedly your ego was bruised as much as Abby's would have been. He had watched you argue your point, and when you finished, the man parted his lips to ask, 'who are you?'
Her fucking editor, that's who. Only one who'll put up with her.
It would help if Abby would stop acting like she doesn't know you.
You don't expect flowers, nor praise. She wrote those books by herself. But a tree cannot grow without proper care. If her words were sowing the seeds, you were watering them.
If only Abby could take the stick from her ass and so kindly acknowledge the sweat and tears you put into dealing with her.
Light disappears into the horizon and the moon has risen. These cocktail parties were never your style. It isn't a wild bender, nor is it a classy and quiet event. It's just somewhere between that.
Networking.
It's tedious, dreadful. If you don't catch their attention within the first seconds of the conversation, you won't make that connection. First impressions are everything, and unfortunately, you struggle to be as charming as the others in this room.
"Well, well, well. Look who showed up."
Her eyes have wandered to you for the past two hours, not as discreet as she thought she was being. It seems Abby has finally found the time to pull away from big-wig publishers and authors to finally seek you out.
"I almost thought you were gonna pull the same shit as last time 'n hide all night."
"You wish." Your voice is dry and quick, always straight to the point. "Makes no difference if I stay in the shadows or hang around the others. You'll ignore me anyway."
"No," Abby murmurs, a scrunched up scowl on her face now. It's far from hateful, and directed more towards herself than you. "I'm talking to you now, aren't I?"
"Mhm."
"You know what I just.. love?" Abby asks, head tilted towards you. You are a thief to Abby's attention no matter where or when, but regret to realise that. "You are just as hard to deal with in person as you are over email. It's really authentic."
"Ah." You give a curt nod, taking a short sip of wine, and notice the way her eyes track the movement. They linger over your lips, struggling to tear away. "I am glad you think so. I like to keep it real."
She scoffs, short and breathy. "Yeah. It's real lovely."
Abby enjoys the way you match her energy. She enjoys it too much.
"So, did you come here to say anything worthwhile, or are you just polite enough to greet all your guests?"
Her face doesn't changeâher smile remains intact, but it's the twitch of her eye that forces a soft chuckle past your lips.
"Yeah, actually. You know, I was getting there." Abby's indignant reply is masked with a pleasant tone, one that irks you. She doesn't know how to act any way but sarcastically with you. She could say the smallest thing, but it gets on your nerves. You're not the most proud of how reactive you are to Abby's behaviour. "You know, some sappy shit about how helpful you are. But I might keep it to myself now."
"Makes no difference to me," you say with a shrug of your shoulders. Actually, it would be nice to hear what she has to say. "You couldn't be genuine with me if you tried."
"You know what? Let's go." Abby takes and sets your glass down on a nearby table for you, hand wrapping firm around your wrist. "I have some things to say to you that I'd rather others don't hear."
"Can't wait," you mutter, anticipating what, from past experience, can only be referred to as a sour exchange of words.
Abby drops your hand to get the door with the most cocky grin you've seen on her face in a long time. "Ladies first."
The French doors lead to a round balcony that overlooks the water. As you step outside you feel a wave of relaxation overcome you. The ocean is calm, the breeze from earlier has filtered away into a still, but cold, night. The only sounds you can hear are muffled chatter and music from inside.
"Alright." You clasp your hands together and bat your lashes. "What was it you had to say? Don't forget to raise your voice this time."
"Y'know, I actually wasn't planning on yelling at you," Abby says in a gritty voice, stepping closer. "But if you keep trying to get smart with me, I may reconsider."
"Oh, of course. I hope you do. It's a pleasant sound."
"Iâ Stop talking."
Without you having realised, she's backed you into a corner. Your hands grasp the stone fence of the balcony tightly, looking away until she tugs your jaw closer.
"I wanted to actually say something nice. You know, a sorry for being a cunt. A thank you for putting up with me. I wouldn't have half the success I have if it weren't for you."
"Oh."
It's simply unexpected. It isn't an out-of-this-world idea for Abby to be sincere, of course not. But her confidence is often mistaken for pure arrogance. You just didn't think she could tone down her ego enough for something like this. Not at a release party, at leastâthis whole shebang is meant to be celebrating her.
"I didn't know how to show you I actually appreciate your work," Abby continues, "I thought about flowers... a letter... you know, for an author, it was ridiculously hard to put some words down. And I wanted to avoid cliché. So I wanted to personally talk to you about it."
"You know, this is actually leaning further into cliché territory than a letter?" You muse, only with the intention of making this slightly less awkward.
Considering Abby is usually the one to let her eyes wander, right now, you are the one who can't pull their eyes away. Her shirt fits her far too perfectly for your liking. Her eyes, electric blue and staring sharply enough to cut youâthey're perfect. And you hate it.
"Oh yeah?" Abby huffs, her palm flat on the fence behind you. She's caged you in. "Why's that?"
"Because you look like you're about to kiss me."
She falters for a moment, sheer surprise on her face. Oh, come on. She can't be that clueless to her own desires, can she?
"You wish."
"Well if you don't kiss me, I'm going to kiss you."
"What? Because I said one kind thing to you? Are you really that easy?" Abby lets out a quiet laugh in disbelief, perhaps a bit of shock tooâyou've thrown her off balance.
"You are the one who's not-so-subtly stared at my lips all night," you point out. "So I think you need to find your own answer to your question."
Jesus, you make Abby actually think sometimes. Interacting with you is differentâher wit is matched for once, you indulge in the same dry sarcasm, you're actually fucking intelligent.
But what irritates her is the way you have such a great read on her.
"What I need is for you to shut up and let me be nice to you for once."
"God, you write your own clichés so much you'd think you would have seen this coming." You meet her eyes with that of a mischievous look in your own, lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Make me."
Oh, for fuck's sake.
Screw it.
Her lips are on yours. Her hands settle over your hips. It's warmâincendiary, even. The autumn chill takes a backseat as she kisses you once, twice, and once more.
She stays close enough for your breaths to mingle, lips a hair's breadth away from each other now.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" You murmur. Abby scoffs softly.
"I hate you."
"I don't think that's right."
"No?"
"You're welcome to walk away right now, if you hate me so much."
There is not a chance that's going to happen. Even below the faint blue moonlight, you can see how rosy her cheeks have turned. Not a chance. She's staying right here.
"I thought a kiss was supposed to make you shut up," Abby grumbles.
"Oh, ha, sorry." You aren't sorry in the slightest. That coy smile is going to be the death of her. Who knew little old you would have the upper hand right now? "You can try again, if you'd like."
"Right."
It's as desperate and fiery as before, yet not as ephemeral. She's captured your words with her lips, her hands unceasingly moving along your figure. She touches and grabs everywhere that she can reach. You cup the back of her head and pull her closer as you sit on the balcony fence.
That stresses her out the slightest bit. It's a precarious position, on a high place, no less. But she simply takes it as an opportunity to splay her palm over your ass, 'keeping you from falling off.'
"Here's the deal." Abby attempts to command you, but wandering lips are staining her throat in lipstick and, plain and simply, she whimpers her words. "You're gonna watch that door and tell me if someone's comin'."
"Mhm."
Your mouth seeks her freckled collarbone, so tauntingly visible beneath her shirt. She always leaves the first few buttons undone. You've controlled yourself so well all this time, you deserve to taste the salt of her skin there.
And Abby's fumbling with the button of your pants. They fit you so well. They hug your body just right, flaring at the ankles. They hug her attention, too.
"Coast is clear?" Abby whispers. Her hand is painfully close to where she wants to be, buried into your cunt, but she just can't without the confirmation that you won't be caught in your little escapade.
You peek over Abby's shoulder. The party is still bustling inside, not a soul seeming concerned with the balcony.
"It's clear."
"Thank god."
Abby's hand slides beneath your panties finally. She's amused with the way you spread your thighs wider to accommodate her, your legs wrapping around her waist now.
"That's a good girl," she mumbles, fingers gathering some of your wetness. She nearly shudders at how fucking hot all of this is. You, your stuttered breath, and the thrill of fucking you somewhere so public. "Shh-shh."
Two fingers push past your folds and your hands grip her broadened shoulders. It's a stretch, those thick fingers stuffed pretty inside you, but the feeling is more than welcome.
"Fuck, Abs."
"I know, just be quiet."
Her fingers begin to move, slow at first as she tests the waters, and gradually it reaches a faster pace. Your sounds are even better than she could have anticipated they'd be. Gentle, short moans. So, so cute, and all for her ears' pleasure only.
"Open those eyes, baby. You need to keep watch."
You do your best. You force your eyes open and stare at the blurry door behind Abby.
Her digits reach in deep, they stretch you wide, and her thumb laves over your clit simultaneously. She feels the tension build in your body. Your fingers bruise her shoulders, your legs tremble, and you muffle your rising volume by hiding in the crook of her neck.
"C'mon, baby," Abby encourages, her free hand groping and squeezing your butt. "Gonna cum for me?"
She has finally conquered your attitude. Left you unable to do anything but moan, and fuck, your legs feel like jelly now. She revels in your jittering, in the clenching of your hole around her fingers.
"Good girl." The praise, sweetened further by that smooth voice, leaves you reeling. And like the prick she is, she just has to use your own words back at you. "Wasn't that hard to shut up, was it? You did so good for me."
You hum tiredly in response, weak fingers fastening your trousers again. "I hate you."
"Hate me enough to come home with me?"
Ha.
"Of course."
#đ€ ââ petalrambling.#tlou2 x reader#lesbian#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x female reader#wlw nsft#abby anderson smut#dom!abby#sub!reader#author!abby#đ€ ââ petalworks.
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