#what suit is this idk i just made it up because I didn't want to look up ref

[takes1]

Hello!! (I don't know exactly how to do this)

Could you write something for Tendo Satori being a simp for short skirts with thigh-high stockings?

Thank you so much

tendou is obsessed with your thigh-highs

hi!! you did it right haha. could not stop thinking about this one. great request!! glad to be able to write it so quickly :0

warnings. nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / tendou is a thigh guy / thigh high fetish / almost fingering / makin out / reserved!reader / yapper!tendou / endstate situationship / intense PDA / college au / TA!tendou / 2.3k words / potential for part two idk

links. masterlist. more haikyuu here. my ao3. my imagines requests open

Tendou clocked your little outfit the second you walked into his study group's reserved room.

As the TA for this course, he tried to keep himself far away from you, just to clear his mind before trying to help. The library was now 40 minutes away from closing, and the handful of students that showed up were nearly all gone.

Helping the last poor soul with practice questions was not quite enough- he found himself praying you would stay another ten minutes for him to try and flirt, just a little.

He wanted to ask what was the deal with such an eye-catching get-up, but he wasn't sure what the best approach was. So, like usual, he just went with whatever felt right.

"Hey!" He was loud, friendly, and accidentally succeeded in startling you from behind.

You turned in your chosen beanbag to give him an unsure look. You didn't say hello back.

There was something different about this guy. You had your guesses at to what exactly ailed him, but they would remain background noise for the time being. Phone clutched to your chest, you collected yourself again in the aftermath of such a fright.

"Did I scare ya?"

He didn't wait for you to respond through your tiny chuckle. He was on a roll, and needed to open this up.

"Whaaat? No homework?" Tendo pushed his weight forward, limp over your beanbag, right beside you, "Don't tell me you're already done?"

Tendou was absurdly quick. Conversations, usually more confined to a specific, academic topic, usually left you spiraling from his fast and unfocused mind. Most of the time, you felt like a passenger in your own talks, but he was waiting for you now.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed, engrossed in a post on your phone for minutes, now. Everybody was almost gone.

"Um- yeah, I am."

There was so much going on behind the squint he gave you. It made you feel all hot and cold at the same time.

He muttered, looking around the rest of the room, "Smart and pretty, cool- that's cool."

Your mouth hung open a little, a blush creeping over your face, but he was onto the next thing. As if he didn't just call you pretty.

"So-ooo do you usually dress up outside of class?"

It was never one question. In this case it led to lots of elaboration, back-to-back.

"Because I totally did not get the memo, if we were supposed to wear something nice. I mean, bro over there is wearing a piano shirt, suit jacket and jeans. I'm-," He paused a moment to snicker at him, "-A little confused. So--,"

His eyes nearly gave him away. They faltered, slipping down to the sliver of skin showing at the top of your thigh-highs, just before the hem of your skirt ended.

"Do you- usually wear this?"

In a natural response, your eyes were following his, and you automatically pulled down on your skirt to cover yourself.

Your voice was quieter, slower, than his by many measures, "I wouldn't call this 'dressing up,' but, um, it is my style."

He had to mask his frustration -the Hellish screaming from inside- with a bigger, sillier thing.

"You got somewhere to be after this?"

Again, more questions. You couldn't help but laugh at the way he asked them so quick, flighty, like he was maybe asking you about course material.

"Like, a date, or something? Going to- I dunno- see your boyfriend? Something like that?"

Now you understood. He was no-doubt flirting. You set your phone on the floor, an inquisitive smile at your lips.

"I don't have a boyfriend," You looked him up and down slowly, watching how he adjusted, plenty aware of it, "Why do you need to know so bad?"

For the first time ever, he was searching for what to say. You grinned.

"Y'know," You shifted, twisted, to look at him straight on, "If you kissed me, I might kiss you back."

Your teeth clinked together in his haste. It was silly, an endearing accident, that made you smile against him.

His lips were soft, and warm, but he kissed you like you were made of chocolate. Something sweet, something to be devoured. There was no room to doubt his intentions because he was so passionate from the start.

A big, strong hand laced through your roots and guided you to get a better kiss from this angle.

It had been a while since your last fling. Tendou could fill the empty space in your heart, between your legs, for enough time to forget how lonely you were. Longevity wasn't something you were after. He was into you and that would do.

"Mm-h," You parted to tell him to come sit next to you, instead.

Tendou wiped the string of spit from his mouth, flushed, but never backed down. His confidence, especially in the face of being such a weirdo, was a turn-on.

"Ya think this is big enough for me~? Let's seeee,"

You watched, amused, at how he slinked into the space next to you and completely filled it up.

"You're... pretty tall," You confessed, shaky. Your hand shot out to touch him, invested in his size, all of a sudden. Hesitation, at the last second, kept you from following through.

"Mhmmm, you know it. 6'2, if you're curious."

Encouraging, he completed your desire to feel him by placing your hand on his shoulder. He did all the hard work so easily.

You were human. You had your preconceived biases. You thought weird, nerdy guys were supposed to be frail and skinny.

Tendou's shoulder was instead strong, and filled out. His shirt was a thin blend of polyester and cotton that was strained at the bicep and not so much at the waist. His legs stretched out much further than yours. All these titillating realizations kept cascading in big waves of shock. It kept you in a state of stillness that directly contrasted his excited wiggling around to get comfortable.

"You okayy?" He laughed, his proximity a safe, but new change. His words buzzed against your cheek between kisses, "You really like tall guys, or somethin'?"

He did usually wear hoodies, in your cold classroom. The way he slouched in it made him look closer to 5'9". It was warm in here so he had set it on the back of a chair a while ago.

You kissed him, falling against his warm chest in an attempt to shut him up.

Though he loved being chatty, he knew when it was a good time to let other things get the point across.

"Mmh-,"

He returned your passion tenfold. Forearm behind your upper back, a hand wrapped all around the back of your neck, he crushed you back down under him.

God, he was good with his tongue.

It didn't take very long to realize you both wanted each other, bad.

You liked what you were finding out about him, the further he went with you- he knew he liked you from the start of the semester, and now got to express his gratefulness for the chance.

"You should wear these more," His dirty, breathy voice matched the rough way he pulled your thigh-highs down.

Tendou was completely lost in the way your thighs squeezed together, how your stockings were just a little too small, your skirt arguably too short for your ass. No wonder you chose a seat like this, far away from the other students.

What he wanted was for you to sit on his face. But even he knew that idea was too much, so he settled for squeezing at your flesh, adjusting to be more over you.

You gave a closed-mouth moan of surprise at the feeling of a stiff cock under his jeans, rubbing on your leg.

The way he had you all spread and squished again for him, a little tight on space, very last-minute and surprised, was exactly how he wanted you. He grinned. Thanks to his features, that made him look intimidating.

"I've got a- a thing, for these," He explained, clearing the air a little, "Now that I think about it, if you wore this to class, I probably wouldn't be able to focus."

Just the idea of keeping him distracted like that filled you with a hot, focused, urgency. You pulled him in, legs parted, for a raunchier kiss.

He groaned against your mouth, biting your lip, and pressed an eager palm against your pussy.

"Ahh-mm-!" Your whine was getting cut short by another carnivorous suck to your lip.

He got you so wet, so malleable, so quickly.

"Fuck," His hips were grinding on your thigh, apparently enough stimulation for him- it made you feel proud, that you could get him feeling so good without much work.

His digits slid under your soaked panties. You gasped against his mouth, fingers filling with the neck of his t-shirt.

"Mmm, fuck that feels so-o good," His confession devolved into more of a growl.

His fingers were using all the wet there to better slide against your clit, a filthy, smooth sensation that kept you writhing.

"Ohh--oh my go-d," You mewled, eyes scrunched shut at how much you needed it. He swallowed up your sounds with hasty, hard kisses.

His groin kept pressed, rolling, against the back of your thigh.

It felt hot, and big from what you could tell, but you were still left to speculate what he was hiding under those jeans.

Never in a million years would you have guessed that he possessed knowledge on how to touch a woman. In any sense, not just explicitly. He was everyone's favorite, goofy TA. Not some womanizer.

Your fingers raked through his messy hair, taking in the feeling of his tongue against yours, all while trying to keep your noise down.

When he began to part, you didn't fight it, because you needed to breathe. But he stopped moving his fingers, and it left you shaky, needy. You rolled your hips and pressed your leg harder onto his hard-on.

"We sh-ould- we should stop," Tendou sighed, clearing his throat.

He was glancing around the empty study room, head on a swivel. He didn't look particularly upset, nor like he had actually heard something. You sure didn't. What the hell was his problem?

You were grabbing at him, groaning, "What?"

Another little kiss to your forehead, and the hottest, most rabid look any guy had ever given you before made you pause.

"I just- uh, I just have--," He was distracted again, squinting around, "A bad... feeling."

"I made you feel bad?" You sounded more whiny, than anything. You would have thought it embarrassing, but your cunt was throbbing with the need for more, and that took priority.

He chuckled, prying his own fingers from between your legs with marked displeasure.

"Noo, no, you make me feel like I wanna tear our clothes off." He thought for a second, sucking the wet from his index and middle finger, "Then run naked into the woods and never come back. Live like our ancestors. Have like, 16 kids."

There was no time to unpack that.

Just as you had fixed your stockings back, and he rolled off of the beanbag to stand -shifting his cock to a less obvious position in his jeans-, the door opened fast with no knock.

"Heyyy!"

Your wide eyes went straight to Tendou, but he didn't look at you. How did he know?

"Hey!" He greeted piano-shirt guy with typical ease.

The unwelcome guest, somebody you vaguely recognized from your class, explained themselves, glancing about the room, "I left my phone here! Have you guys seen it?"

Your voice cracked to say 'No,' and you vowed to remain silent for the remainder of your fake search for this idiot's phone.

Tendou found it in one of the swivel chairs. Part of you couldn't help but feel like he had some magical powers. Once the guy left, you were left mourning all that perfect proximity, all the dizzying desire you had built so quickly.

"Sooo angry," He cooed.

As he invited you for a hug, it was clear that he found your frustration the most adorable thing in the world.

You tolerated it because he held you. More specifically, he held you and palmed your ass from under your skirt. Your arms were stretched, linked behind his shoulders, as you stole more of his perfect kisses. You pushed him to sit on the table so you could stand between his parted legs.

He kept laughing, giggling at least, and messing your kisses up.

"Mh- what? What is it?"

Tendou snickered, "Didn't know you were such a little freak--,"

"Freak?"

"Ohh-kay, okay, not freak- umm," He giggled at the offense you took, cupping your face in his oversized hands, "Sorry. I really like you. I wanna do this more."

You hadn't caught on quite yet, so you leaned in to kiss him again, but only got his cheek. He grinned at your disappointment.

"Nooot here, though."

He was still squinting around, "I dunno, I still don't feel right."

After such a strong demonstration of predictive ability, you couldn't not trust his warning. You glanced around, too.

"Some other time?"

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.

[artlyloser]

[ID: Illustration of Batman kneeling on the edge of a building overlooking Gotham. The background has the buildings coming up from the bottom an dark clouds covering a night sky. END ID]

a random bat appears!

[astranauticus]

todays orv mood: standing at the water dispenser under my dorm building waiting for my instant noodles to cook just pacing in circles and swearing

[organic-bloodbath]

Hiiiiiiii. Could you do a Salesman fic?

I would love to see one where his usual calm and powerful energy is lost around the reader, as he's just enamoured with her. Like no shame, he is down bad and the reader is just flustered and lowkey confused cause they haven't known each other for long.

Idk if this makes any sense to you (up to you if you make it smut i don't really mind)

Teach Ddakji to me

The Salesman x American!Reader

Summary: You play Ddakji with a man at a subway station, but the game brings you two much closer than either of you were prepared to.

A/N: I'm not sure how well i was able to follow the request of how he behaves around the reader but this is what i got ;-; hope you still like 🫶🏻 (i'm so deep in love with this psycho i've been giggling during every other paragraph)

♡♡

You rushed down the stairs in the subway station, only one minute until your train was going to leave. You weren't going to make it, but you had to try.

The doors were closing right in front of you and you wanted to scream and let out several different curses, but you didn't want to draw attention on yourself. Your day at the college lectures had just ended and all you wanted to do was to get home, have a dinner and rest.

You heard noise behind a corner, as if someone was slamming something on the floor. You went to see what was going on out of curiosity.

Two men were standing there, the other one tall and dressed in a grey suit, the other one a lot shorter and dressed in a simple hoodie and loose jeans, a worn out cap covering his messy black hair. Suddenly, the man in the suit slapped the other so hard on the face that the man's head turned to the right.

They slammed blue and red squares on top of each other over and over again, and it ended in the man in the suit slapping the other almost every time. Once in a while he handed to the man what looked like a bill of money. You had never seen anything like that happen anywhere and were confused.

You got a notification on your phone, a text message from your classmate.

"Join us for studying and then a dinner? A new restaurant opened nearby, we'll go and try it tonight," she messaged.

"Another day, i don't feel like going out tonight," you replied, getting a thumbs up emoji as a respond.

You put your phone in your pocket and turned around, almost having a heart attack and jumping a step back when you saw the man in the suit standing mere inches away from you, looking down at you with a slight smirk.

"Enjoyed the show, i hope?" he asked and your eyes widened. Fuck, he had noticed you stalking the two of them.

"Yea, um, sure," you said awkwardly. "Though i didn't know what it was, really."

Seeing his face now closer and him staring at you with his dark eyes made your heart beating faster and it wasn't only because of him scaring you for appearing out of nowhere. He was extremely handsome and the way he looked at you made you blush.

"You haven't heard of Ddakji?" he asked, but didn't seem surprised since he figured you weren't local by the looks of you. "It's a Korean game, want me to show you?"

"Sure," you said, nothing else to do than wait anyway. The man took the squares in his hands and offered you to choose one. You took the red one.

He explained the rules to you, it was simple. You only had to hit your square on the blue one and make it turn around, the upper side facing the floor.

It sounded simple but you were hesitant if you were actually able to do it. You threw it on the floor, aiming at the blue square, but it didn't move even an inch in any direction. You let out a frustrated groan.

"It's okay, very few people succeed on their first try," he said in a comforting tone and took a step closer to you, standing right in front of you. "But do you know what losing means to you, hm?"

You had a very good guess after seeing him and the other man play just a while ago.

"You're gonna slap me?" you asked with a grimace.

He smiled. Without a word, you felt a painful sting on your left cheek when he slapped you, not going any easier on you just because you were a woman.

"Jesus Christ!" you gasped and held your hand on your cheek which was definitely going to have a red mark later. You had never been slapped on your face and it hurt more than you thought it would hurt.

"My turn then," he said and grabbed his blue square from the floor. He slammed it on top of your red square and it immediately jumped in the air and landed on its other side on the floor.

He looked at you with the same smirk again.

"So what happens when you win?" you asked, crossing your arms. If you continued this game much longer, your face would be completely covered in bruises and you'd have a lot of explaining to do to your classmates.

"I get to use your body again," he said with a confident tone.

You closed your eyes and prepared for another slap, hoping that it would be the other one this time because your left cheek still hurt. When you felt a touch on your left cheek, you automatically winced a little bit.

But it wasn't a slap, it was a tender kiss. You opened your eyes when he had already leaned away and you saw a glimpse of kindness in his eyes this time. You felt your cheeks warming up and tried to avoid eye contact for a moment.

"Your turn," he said.

Your hand was shaking when you lifted the red square from the floor. You wanted to succeed, you had never been good at losing in anything, it was always about to start to piss you off if you didn't start winning too.

"Do you want me to help you?" he asked. You looked at him and soon he was right behind you, keeping an eye contact with you when he put his left hand on your waist and his right one to hold your hand which was holding the square. "Is this okay?"

He didn't put too much pressure on holding you, making sure that you gave him a permission for that. You suddenly couldn't get words out of your mouth, so you just nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. He held you tighter now and instructed how it was supposed to be done. You had to have more force when you would slam the square down.

"Spread your legs a little bit," he whispered.

"What?" you gasped in shock.

"To get a better and more firm position when you throw it," he explained, his breath hot in your ear.

"Oh," you said, cheeks burning even more. You hadn't realized you were standing almost like a stick. He guided your hand up in the air in a correct position.

"Remember to let go of it at the correct moment, i'm going to aim it for you, okay?" he said and you nodded, now much more nervous than you would have been if you did this alone.

With this help, the blue square flew into the air and landed on its other side easily. You were excited of the victory, even though it was for his help, and a wide smile spread on your face.

To be honest, for a second you wished you would have failed on purpose, just to get his hands on you again - you didn't even care if it was a slap, kiss or something else.

He let go of you and you turned around to face him, already missing his touch.

"There you go," he said with a proud expression on his face. "Now, you can choose what to do to me."

You didn't hesitate for even a second longer, you immediately slapped him on his left cheek as hard as you could. However, you knew you didn't have as much as strength in your body as he did, so the slap must have stinged a lot less. His head didn't move even an inch and he only smiled.

Right then, the train you had been waiting for arrived and you took your bag from the ground. You weren't going to miss this train just because of wanting to have another round of Ddakji with this stranger.

He offered you money, worth of 100 dollars, and put them in your hand, closing your fist around the bill. You were about to refuse but he wasn't having it.

"Treat yourself a nice dinner tonight," he said. When you didn't answer, he nodded towards the train which was about to leave soon, with or without you.

"Thank you," you said. "Um, bye."

You made it into the train just in time and when you looked back at the spot where that man had just been, he was already gone.

♡♡

The salesman didn't want you to leave. He was absolutely mesmerized by you, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on. Your perfume and the smell of your shampoo still lingered in his nose, even after you weren't there anymore.

He would have wanted to ask you to stay, but he couldn't find the correct words and you were in a hurry to catch your train.

He hadn't felt like this of a woman in a long time and he wanted to find you again. To hold you again.

He didn't understand how you could have made this big of an impact on him in only under 10 minutes, but all he knew was that he needed to get to know you better.

♡♡

The next day, you arrived to the class and sat next to your friend.

"Oh my god, what happened to your face?" she gasped in shock.

Yes, there was a visible red mark on your cheek and you didn't have anything at home to cover it. You didn't really use any makeup either except mascara.

"Oh um," you started, trying to find some excuse. "It's my allergies and acne." You didn't have any allergies and hadn't had acne since you were 15. But you couldn't tell her the truth, atleast now that you didn't have time to talk much since the class was about to start.

And what were you going to say to her? A stranger in the subway station slapped you and you enjoyed it?

The teacher arrived and the noise of the door slamming closed interrupted your friend who was about to say something to interview you further.

♡♡

You walked down the subway station stairs again on your way home, just like yesterday. You had your headphones on, listening to random metal songs on Spotify and were texting your mum who catched up with you twice a week how you were doing. You were supposed to have a video call later today but she apparently had to work extra tonight, she was a nurse.

When you had reached the bottom of the stairs, you bumped into something and almost tripped back but managed to keep your balance. You looked up and saw the same man in the suit as yesterday, staring down at you with a smile.

"Hello," he greeted, not moving anywhere.

"Hello," you repeated and lifted your eyebrows, taking of your headphones. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," he said without thinking.

"Me? Why? How did you know i would be here?"

"I didn't. I only figured you might have the same daily routine and took a chance," he explained.

"Why did you want to see me?" you asked, confused but feeling butterflies in your stomach.

"I didn't have a chance to ask for your phone number yesterday," he said. "And i'd like to take you out."

"Take me out you mean murder or dinner?"

"The second option. I already finished the first task earlier," he said with a smile. Handsome and with a sense of humor.

"Fine, where did you plan to take me?"

"Anywhere you want. Are you hungry?"

"You don't even know my name," you pointed out.

"You can tell me your name and all about you on our date," he smiled.

"Aren't you straightforward," you chuckled. "Are you going to teach me Ddakji again?"

"If you wish so," he said.

You bit your lip, not sure if you should go somewhere with this stranger or not. You hadn't been asked for a dinner at a subway station before, though, so you could write it on your bucketlist and cross it out.

"Okay."

♡♡

He had taken you to a lovely dinner to enjoy local foods you had never eaten before. You rarely tried any new foods, always sticking on the ones you already knew you'd like, but now you had tried something different and loved it.

Now, you were in a park, nobody else in sight. It was already dark and you knew you had to go home soon if you wanted to get enough sleep.

You held the red square in your hand once again and aimed for slamming the blue around finally on your own.

Again, you weren't able to hit it. But you hadn't even tried properly and weren't mad about it.

"Damn it," you mumbled.

"You'll get there," he smirked, stepping closer to you.

He lifted your chin with his finger.

"Close your eyes."

You did as told and waited for the worst option, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

You felt his lips press on yours, taking you into a slow kiss. He broke the kiss but didn't let go of your chin

"Do i have to play another round of Ddakji to do that again?"

You smiled and stepped on your tiptoes to reach him better, cupped his face and pulled him in a proper, deeper kiss. He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist to press your body against him tighter.

"Just so you know, i don't sleep with men on our first date," you said when the kiss was over, his hands wandering around your back they had almost reached your ass.

He moved his left hand to the back of your neck, keeping the right one on your lower back. He pushed his fingers through your hair, softly massaging your scalp.

"What is it about you that makes me so drawn to you?" he whispered, and you didn't know if the question was for you or just for himself. "Only two days and you've managed to make me absolutely addicted to you."

He pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you felt blush creeping on its way to your cheeks.

He eventually walked you back home like a gentleman, not allowing you to walk anywhere at this hour. He had to make sure you got back home safely.

"Will i see you again tomorrow?" he asked before you managed to leave, gently holding your wrist.

"I have to study, i've fallen behind in couple of courses so i need to catch up," you said and his face fell a little bit. Surely he had other things to do in his life besides seeing you. "Are you free this weekend?"

His face lighted up again for your suggestion.

"For you, of course," he said and brought your hand towards his face, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You went inside your apartment and silently closed the door, trying to do everything as quietly as you could, but then the lights were turned on.

"Okay who the HELL is that man, Y/N?!" your roommate shouted at you, making you jump and almost have a heart attack. It was so late you thought she was already sleeping, she was the type to be in bed by 8pm and asleep by 9pm.

"Um, well I-"

"That is the most gorgeous man i've ever seen," she said, still speaking loudly, and stepped closer to you and pointed you with her finger. "How couldn't you tell me you were dating a new man?"

"Well i only met him a while ago," you admitted.

"Still?!" she shouted. "You know i like boy talk and you never talk about your dating life! Oh my god, have you finally downloaded Tinder or something?"

"Ew, no," you shook your head.

"You're right, there's no way men THAT hot would still be on Tinder and not married," she said and then gasped. "Girl, he's not married, is he?"

"I sure hope he's not," you said and for a moment you were afraid he might be married. I mean, how could he still be single? Your friend always talked so much that you started to doubt everything you previously knew.

"Wait a minute, i'll get us some popcorn and then you're gonna spill everything," she said and without another word, she was already in the kitchen.

And you did tell her everything because my god you needed to talk to someone about him.

♡♡

A few days and several text conversations later, you were in his hotel room, and he pressed you against the wall, his right hand leaning on the wall right by your head.

He lifted your head by his forefinger on your chin to make you look straight into your eyes.

"How long are you going to stay in Korea?" he asked.

"What, are you going to ask me to move in with you or something? Plan a summer wedding?" you joked.

"If you want to," he said with a serious face and you truly wasn't sure if he was serious or joking. You hadn't yet found a difference between the two.

"Wait what?"

You hadn't dated any Korean men before so you weren't sure how fast they progressed in the dating life. Would it be normal to propose on the first week or ask to move in? Surely not.

He smiled. "I only ask because i don't want to have you only for a short while," he said and let his fingers wander around your shoulder, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"Well, i'll be here for atleast another 5 months," you told him and then pouted. "So, no summer wedding?"

"I'd have to buy a ring first," he smirked.

"It better be a real diamond too then," you chuckled, having seen the stacks of money he had carried with him, and pulled him into another kiss.

He was soon kissing your neck, leaving a mark on your skin, until your stomach growled and interrupted him.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "I thought you had eaten before you came here."

"Well, it's been a while i suppose," you said, not really remembering anymore when the last time was.

He stepped away from you and pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"We're ordering food," he said. "What would you like to eat?"

He ordered Chinese food for you and ate it on the bed while watching some brainless comedy movie.

When the movie had ended, he went to the bathroom, leaving you to lay on the bed and making you to fall in your thoughts alone.

You had been in a relationship twice in your life, and in neither of them your relationship had moved on this fast. I mean, you weren't in an official relationship, you had been just barely hooking up, but the way he talked about you only knowing you for a few days wasn't something you had been used to at all.

In the U.S., it took guys several weeks to make any progress in relationships, atleast what you had seen and gone through.

Maybe you should slow down a little, take a step back and see what he really wants from you.

By the time he came back from the bathroom, you had fallen asleep. You looked so peaceful in your sleep, so beautiful even with your messy hair all over the pillow.

He came closer to you and pulled a blanket over you, the edge almost reaching your jaw. You stirred in your sleep, turning to lay on your side, but didn't show any signs of waking up.

He laid himself on the bed next to you and just looked at your sleeping figure for several minutes. He was afraid of getting attached to a woman so fast, in so little time, but he couldn't help it.

To him you were perfect, and he wanted to know everything about you that there was to know.

♡♡

A/N: If you want a part 2, please leave any requests you might have, i'm not sure where to go with this 🫶🏻❤️💙

[lazycats-stuff]

Hi idk if you're taking requests rn but can you please do if possible batfamily x male reader who's younger than dick but older than jason and he is really shy around batfamily because he came to the family after damian idk if this makes sense and while out on patrol an enemy injects him something that turned him into a toddler but he still has all his memory the rest is up to you im sorry if this doesn't make sense😭

It's fine, it makes perfect sense, don't worry my dear anon. I know exactly what you mean. Did I use this GIF before? Yes. Does it work in this context? Yes. And did I use this GIF for a story before where I also wrote about a shy reader? Yes.

Summary: (Y/N) is shy around his family. That is until he is turned into a toddler.

Warnings: shy (Y/N), (Y/N) is turned into a toddler, not a lot of bad warnings, besides mentioning Bruce being stabbed for the purpose of this one shot.

(Y/N) was always shy, even before Bruce adopted him. But that shyness completely intensified when he was adopted into the family. He was younger than Dick, but older than Jason, which would put him somewhere in the middle. If only he didn't come after Damian came into the family, it might have been easier.

Coming into a new family where there are already four siblings and you are the fifth one... It's not easy to say the very least. Meeting new people is not easy and (Y/N) always struggled with being shy and just over all... A bit overwhelmed. More often than not, (Y/N) could be found with a blush on his cheeks. Very quiet too... Feeling self conscious more often than not.

Bruce tried to make his son more comfortable. So did the other boys. All of them in their own ways. Bruce talked to (Y/N) about becoming a vigilante. Which (Y/N) thought was a good idea. But due to his shyness... (Y/N) was very hesitant to do so. He didn't want to impede anyone due to his shyness.

Bruce promised him that they could work on it and at the same time train to go out on patrol. Bruce wanted to make sure that (Y/N) is fully prepared to go out. Sometimes, (Y/N) could overthink a lot of things and Bruce wanted (Y/N) to just trust his gut feeling. Go with your gut, trust yourself.

Of course, an overthinker overthinks everything and that sometimes makes it a bit more difficult to function. Of course, overthinking for a while when it's your first few times being on patrol is normal, you are trying to get into your rhythm and to get the initial nerves out. But the problem is that (Y/N) is a chronical overthinker. So Bruce made sure to shadow (Y/N) all the time.

Bruce made sure to instruct his sons to do the same. To make sure that they shadowed (Y/N), just for his safety. (Y/N) didn't mind it, but he would like to have a tiny bit of autonomy and a little bit of confidence in himself.

His brothers were sympathetic to that, but Bruce's orders were still standing. And Bruce did know that (Y/N) was getting a bit restless and annoyed as he couldn't have some independence. But Bruce wanted to be sure that (Y/N) could take care of himself if he was alone. And after numerous conversations with Bruce, Bruce relented and (/YN) was happy to have a little bit more autonomy.

Bruce was still worried of course, but knew that (Y/N) could take care of himself. Just like all of his children could. But Bruce is always worried about all of his children. So, he made sure to put a tracker in (Y/N)'s suit.

Just in case, Bruce told himself, trying to ease his guilt of doing this.

He knows that he couldn't tell (Y/N) because he would freak out at Bruce. Where's the autonomy if you have a tracker? And (Y/N) was happy to be trusted enough to go on his own...

Bruce was caught in the middle.

Bruce was sitting in the Batcave, taking a night off due to a stab wound. And Alfred might have threatened him with certain things if he even thought about going out on patrol. So Bruce decided to be on the Bat computer, offering support for his kids and for them to go out on patrol alone, without him as physical backup.

It was all going good, but it was a full moon. And far too quiet. And Bruce knew that something was bound to happen. And he was right. But he expected one of his kids to be hurt. Maybe something broken.

Not (Y/N) being turned into a toddler. Bruce nearly fell out of his chair once he got told what happened. It was an up and coming villain, one that Bruce didn't want to see in Gotham city. He didn't know that the enemy was dabbling into stuff like that. He stood in shock as Dick was holding a little toddler, wrapped in Damian's cloak, since the suit was far too big on him now. The suit was in Damian's hands.

" Is (Y/N) okay? Do you know what his cognition levels are? Toddler or what? "

" I'm still a teen in my mind. " (Y/N) said quietly and Bruce sighed in relief. He didn't know how he would feel if he had an actual toddler in here. He has no experience in raising one and Bruce didn't think that he could even handle on. Bruce gently walked forward and took (Y/N) into his arms, trying to calm down his nerves.

(Y/N) was okay. That's what Bruce wanted to hear. He's okay. Not dead. Not harmed... Bruce sighed in relief as he held his son close to him. His shyest son, the one who overthinks everything, the one who often blushes...

" Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? " Bruce asked softly and (Y/N) nodded, seemingly not wanting to talk. Bruce didn't mind it. He could work with nods and shakes.

" Alright, lets find some clothes for you and then Alfred will feed you and then off to bed. " Bruce said to (Y/N), who nodded, happy to eat something.

Alfred watched in silence, still shocked, but soon recovered from it.

" I'll make you your favorite master (Y/N). Come on, lets go. " Bruce put (Y/N) down and (Y/N) walked over to Alfred, reaching for his hand. Alfred smiled as he led (Y/N) up to eat something.

Bruce then turned to his sons.

" Did you manage to catch the guy? " Bruce asked and everyone shook their heads.

" He got away. He was just within my reach. " Jason crossed his arms, looking pissed.

" It's okay Jason, don't blame yourself. Once I'm fully healed, I'll help you two. For now, we need to locate the enemy and ask him for how to reverse the affects. But for now... I'll enjoy this time. I've never had a chance to raise any of you as toddlers, " Bruce confessed and everyone chuckled.

That much was true, they were all older and no one came in when they were toddlers, they were more closer to teenage years. So Bruce would really like to enjoy this period.

Can anyone blame him?

And that's what they all did. They enjoyed this time with (Y/N), Bruce more than the others. Bruce enjoyed how much smaller (Y/N) was and the fact that he could carry him in his arms. Thank God for Bruce's workout plan. And the money to get all the things necessary. Thank God for that.

(Y/N) became a bit compact with the transformation so whenever he got nightmares or got scared in general. Bruce seemed to notice that fear intensified. More often than not, (Y/N) would climb into bed, seeking comfort in his dad. Bruce never minded. How could he? No one else minded either.

It was oddly nice to have a toddler in the home. And while yes, (Y/N) still has his memories as a teen and is not as whiny as a toddler would be so it's not a fair comparison per se, but still. They liked it. Jason loved teasing more than anything in the world. (Y/N) hated it and often whined about it like a toddler would and it made Jason even more amused.

Dick enjoyed this stage too. It's nice to have someone so small around here for some reason. Tim simply buried himself into work to find the enemy. Damian didn't know where to stand on this issue. While he loved his brother even before this, although never showed it outwardly, he wanted his older brother back.

Because this messes with your mind. You have an older brother who was got turned into a toddler. It messes with your perception too. Damian was a little bit freaked out a little bit by it. Okay, not a little, but still.

And yes, (Y/N) was annoyed being a toddler. Being too small to reach anything, Jason teasing him, everyone treating him like a baby... He's had enough of it. He wanted to get out of this little body as soon as possible.

He wanted to be back to him old self.

And that wish was granted when he has seen Bruce smiling after patrol, showing him a serum.

" This will bring you back to your old self. "

(Y/N) sighed in relief. Thank God.

[blog-o-meter]

House of Whispers (Part 1) - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: (Y/N) always knew her place — she was just the housekeeper’s daughter and, at times, Nicholas’s secret escape. But when he returns from Los Angeles 5 years later and moves back into his family’s estate with a pregnant girlfriend in tow, buried truths resurface.

warnings: 18+, angst, unprotected p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, cheating, cursing, arguing, outdoor sex, idk what else honestly

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

word count: 28,830

a/n: I literally dreamt this a week ago and thought it would make a good fic 😭 also I didn’t plan on splitting this one up into two parts but I didn't know Tumblr had a block limit! so part 2 is already written and ready to go, I'm just gonna wait a few days to upload it so pls enjoy part 1 <3

Part 1 | Part 2

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

The house was buzzing with anticipation — staff members fluttering around trying to tidy everything up even though the entire house was always pristine and nothing was ever out of place, the personal chef rushing to have the brunch menu perfectly plated and worthy of being on the cover of Food & Wine, and yard workers making sure every blade of grass and every petal of a flower was watered and lively. I had been in charge of making sure the guest suite was spotless, tidy, and ready to be moved into.

The Chavez family didn’t do anything halfway, and today was no exception; it was the day Nicholas would be moving back in after years of being away in Los Angeles to focus on his career. Him moving away in the first place was probably the best decision he could’ve made for himself because it had become totally worth it. He was drowning in role offers, on the cover of almost every magazine, and had managed to take the internet by storm. But the move back was just as important because he wouldn’t be returning alone. No, he would come back with a very important lady in tow — his pregnant girlfriend.

The announcement of his return had sent ripples through the estate. Everyone seemed eager to welcome Nicholas home, but for me, it had been a strange mixture of dread and longing. I hadn’t seen him in person since the night before he left for Los Angeles, and each time he’d find himself visiting the estate for holidays or birthdays, I’d coincidentally be out of the house. I told myself I was over him. Told myself that whatever we had all that time ago was just that — something we had. But when I found out he was coming and knowing he was doing so with someone else, her, and that they were starting a family? That stung in a way I wasn’t ready to confront.

So for now, I focused completely on making sure everything was ready. I stood in the guest suite, smoothing the already perfectly ironed duvet for the third time. The room was fit for royalty, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the manicured gardens and a vase of fresh pink rhododendrons — I’m told are her favorite — on the nightstand.

Nicholas’s mom told me that I didn’t have to get them anything, but I wanted to. I told myself it was for her, but it wasn’t really. It was for me, to prove to myself that I wasn’t hung up on some past that doesn’t mean anything more. She was his girlfriend now, and I am just a housekeeper who worked with her mom at the Chavez estate. Everything was in its place, just as it always was. Just as I had to be.

I was listening to The Pixies — part of my 80s playlist — through my headphones as I fluffed pillows and dusted surfaces, too engrossed in the mechanical routine and the drums of Here Comes Your Man to realize my mom had been trying to get my attention for the past minute or so. That’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I whipped around and pulled the headphones off my head, the music blasting through the flimsy thin sponges suddenly sounding too loud in the quiet of the room. It was my mom, laughing to herself at the sight of me bopping my head as I cleaned.

“(Y/N), are you almost done in here?” She asked while trying to stifle a chuckle, rubbing her clammy hands on her pristine apron. She had been in charge of cleaning all of the restrooms along with one of the other housekeepers. “Mrs. Chavez wants everybody outside before Nicholas gets here.”

I nodded, quickly slipping the headphones around my neck. “Yeah, I’m done,” I said, glancing around the room one last time. Everything was perfect. Too perfect.

Mom gave me a knowing look, the kind she always gave when she could tell I was trying too hard. “The room is perfect, sweetie. Now, c’mon,” she waved her hand in excitement, “everybody else is outside.”

I grabbed my caddy of cleaning supplies and led us out of the suite, our shoes squeaking as we stepped out into the tiled hallway and down the grand staircase. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked out of the room. I wasn’t sure if she suspected how I felt about Nicholas or if she just thought I was being meticulous for the sake of appearances. Either way, I was grateful she didn’t say anything else.

I quickly walked over to the supply closet near the base of the staircase and placed my caddy inside as my mom scurried out of the front door and urged me to catch up with her. I scampered behind her, the polyester material of my uniform brushing over my knees with each hurried step.

Outside, the estate grounds were a picture of perfection, as they always were. The staff lined up neatly near the circular driveway, a quiet buzz of excitement rippling through them as they awaited Nicholas’s arrival with confetti cannons in hand. I hung back slightly, finding a spot near the end of the line with my mom and some of the other senior members of staff like the chef, fiddling with the edge of my cleaning apron. I told myself this was just another day, but I knew it wasn’t. It never was with him. Would he talk to me? Ignore me? I couldn’t blame him if he did.

“Oh, I see them!” Mrs. Chavez exclaimed as she pointed to the black Escalade driving up the street.

I watched as the luxury car came into view, pulling up smoothly into the driveway and coming to a stop in front of the fountain. A moment later, the door opened, and there he was.

Nicholas Alexander Chavez.

The driveway erupted into a mix of hoots and booms from the confetti cannons exploding in everybody’s hands, bright pieces of foil paper coating the sky and floating down to the stone ground.

Time hadn’t dulled anything about him. If anything, it had refined him. He was tanner, beefier — his arms and thighs practically begging to be let free from his form-fitting clothes. He wore a casual white button-down with the sleeves rolled up along with a pair of denim jeans, effortlessly handsome in a way that sent an unwelcome flutter through my chest. His dark brown eyes scanned the crowd with a quiet confidence, his jawline sharper than I remembered. His hair is a lot different than it used to be, too, no longer loosely swinging past his jaw but shorter and brushed back by the sunglasses on his head. He looked even better than when I last saw him. Oh no.

And then, she stepped out of the car.

She was gorgeous — glossy brown hair cascading over her shoulders and the pitch black oversized sunglasses shielding her eyes, a radiant smile that seemed to light up the entire estate flashing across her face. She wore a flowy dress, one that emphasized her still-flat stomach but there was the tiniest hint of a bump, the very thing that cemented her place next to Nicholas.

The staff clapped politely as Mrs. Chavez rushed toward the start of the line to greet her son, enveloping him in a tight hug. “Nicholas! Oh, it’s so good to have you home!” she gushed before turning to her. “And you, sweetie, look absolutely stunning.”

She beamed, taking Mrs. Chavez’s hands in hers and giving her an air kiss. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Chavez. It’s so nice to see you again.”

I tried to keep my expression neutral, to blend into the background as I always did, but Nicholas’s gaze swept over the line of staff and landed on me. For a split second, our eyes met and his smile grew softer, and I could’ve sworn time stood still and suddenly, I felt 18 again, sitting at the edge of the pool under the protective blanket of the dark night with Nicholas sitting beside me just inches away, the same soft smile on his face.

It had been one of those nights when the Chavez family was throwing some luxurious party, everyone drinking and mingling over glasses of champagne inside, except for me. My mom had asked me if I wanted to help her out at the party for a bit since one of the housekeepers had left earlier in the day, and I felt like being helpful that day. Eventually, though, the party had gone on later than usual, like always, and I found myself sitting outside on the edge of the pool at 2AM, like always.

The spring air was a little warm and still, the only sound was the occasional chirp of crickets and the gentle ripple of the pool water as I slowly circled my feet underwater. I had been sitting at the edge, part of my brain counting down the minutes until my mom and I could go home and the other part thinking about the week ahead — spring semester finals week of college. The moonlight danced across the surface, and I let myself drift into thoughts I shouldn’t have been entertaining.

And then he appeared, as if he knew I was thinking about him.

“You’re always up late, even when there isn’t a party going on inside.”

Nic’s voice was low and easy, the kind that made my heart skip a beat no matter how much I tried to steel myself against it.

I turned my head and saw him standing near the end of the pool, barefoot and wearing a pair of sweatpants hung low on his hips and a graphic tee that swayed against his skinny frame as he strolled over to me. He held a beer in one hand, the bottle catching the faint glow of the pool lights as he moved.

“I’m a night owl, I guess,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.

He smirked, setting the bottle down on the concrete before sitting next to me, close enough that the warmth of his skin radiated toward me. His legs dangled over the edge, and for a moment, we just sat there, staring at the water in comfortable silence.

“So finals week, huh?” he asked, glancing sideways at me.

I nodded, surprised he remembered me mentioning it passing a few days ago. “Yeah. Just one more week and my first year of college will be behind me. I should probably be asleep, but—” I glanced back at the house, “—the party’s still going on. That and…”

“And your mind won’t shut up,” he finished for me, his smirk softening into something more genuine, that soft smile that could trigger something in me.

I stifled a chuckle, “Yeah.”

He let out a soft laugh, leaning back on his hands and tilting his face toward the stars. “I remember those nights. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“You’re only two years older,” I quietly laughed.

He turned to look at me, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Doesn’t mean I don’t remember the stress. Want me to tell you a secret?”

I raised an eyebrow, curious despite myself. “What?”

“I used to sneak out here to clear my head, just like you,” he took a small swig of his beer.

“Yeah, I remember seeing you out here sometimes,” I mumbled.

“There’s something about the quiet, you know?” He set the bottle back down with a quiet clink. “It makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world for a little while.”

I swallowed hard, my gaze flicking to his face. He looked so different under the moonlight — softer, more open. It made it hard to keep my thoughts in check. “Yeah, it does,” I murmured.

“I’ll tell you another secret,” he said as he grabbed his beer again, bringing it up to his lips but too lost in thought to take another sip. “Nobody knows yet, but…” he swallowed dryly, “I’m gonna drop out.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. I blinked, turning to face him fully, unsure if I’d heard him right. “You’re dropping out? Of Rutgers?”

He smirked and nodded, “Well, not dropping out. I already did,” he set the bottle back down on the concrete in the little space between our legs. “Already did the paperwork. I’m not going back in the fall.”

The shock hit me like a slap to the face. Nic was supposed to be the golden boy — the one who had everything figured out. College was just a stepping stone for him to achieve whatever greatness everyone assumed he was destined for. “Why?”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and self-assured. “Because it’s not for me,” he said, leaning back on his hands again. His face was calm, like he’d made peace with it a long time ago. “And because I love acting way too much to be wasting my time sitting in lectures and writing papers. I want more than that. I need more.”

I stared at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but there wasn’t any. “So what’s your plan?” I asked quietly.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he moved the beer bottle separating us and shifted closer, his knee brushing against mine as he reached down and swirled his fingers in the water. “I’m moving to LA. I already got in contact with an agent, already sent in a few self-tape auditions.” He was quiet for a beat, Nicholas tilted his head, his gaze meeting mine. “If I don’t do it now, I’ll regret it forever,” he said, and there it was — that spark in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t just talking. He meant it.

I couldn’t help but admire him in that moment — the way he seemed so sure of himself, so ready to take on the world without any fear. But I also couldn’t ignore the tiny ache in my chest, the thought of him leaving hitting me harder than I expected.

“When are you leaving?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I looked back toward the water.

“End of the summer,” he said. “A couple more months.”

The words hung heavy between us, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The faint ripple of the water and the chirping crickets filled the silence, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the weight of what he’d just told me.

He broke the silence then. “You’re going to crush those finals, you know,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

The unexpected compliment caught me off guard, and I turned to him, my heart thudding in my chest. “Thanks,” I said softly, unable to look away from him.

His gaze lingered on mine, and for a moment, I thought he might say something else. But instead, he leaned in, closing the space between us until his lips brushed against mine. It was soft at first, tentative, like he was giving me a chance to pull away. But when I didn’t — when I kissed him back — something shifted.

The kiss deepened, and I felt his hand move to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. My heart raced, every nerve in my body buzzing as his lips pressed harder against mine, as though he needed this just as much as I did. My fingers found their way into his stringy hair, and every logical thought evaporated.

It was reckless, dangerous, and so far beyond what should’ve been happening — after all, his mom was my mom’s boss and, occasionally, my own — but I didn’t care. Not in that moment.

His other hand slipped around my waist, tugging me against him as the cool night air was replaced by the heat radiating from his body. My fingers clutched at his t-shirt, my breaths coming faster as his tongue brushed against mine. It was everything I shouldn’t have wanted — everything I had told myself over and over I could never have — but it was also everything I couldn’t resist.

“Fuck,” he muttered against my lips, his voice rough and low, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brown eyes searching mine. “You sure?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and I realized he was giving me a choice, an out.

I didn’t need to think. “Yes,” I breathed, my voice shaking but certain.

That was all he needed to hear.

Before I could blink, he had pulled me up from the edge of the pool, his hands strong and steady as he guided me toward the pool house. The door clicked shut behind us, the sound echoing in the quiet, and suddenly we were alone, the world outside fading into nothingness.

The intensity of his gaze pinned me in place as he stepped closer, his hands sliding down to my hips and pulling me against him. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he admitted, his voice husky as his lips brushed against my jaw, trailing down to the sensitive skin of my neck.

I gasped, my hands tangling in his hair as he pressed me against the cool wall. “Me too,” I whispered, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

His hands roamed over my body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake as he guided me to the small couch. We fell into it together, our bodies tangling in a way that felt both desperate and natural. The air was thick with heat and tension, each movement electric. His lips were everywhere — on my neck, my collarbone, trailing lower and lower with a hunger that left me breathless.

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Nic growled against my skin, his hands exploring me like he had been waiting forever to touch me like this.

I moaned softly, my hands clutching at his t-shirt, desperate to pull him closer. “You talk too much,” I whispered back, my words teasing but breathless.

He laughed low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my skin as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it carelessly to the floor. His body was lean but strong, his skin warm under my fingertips as I ran my hands over his chest, his stomach.

His lips crashed back against mine, more forceful this time, as his hands moved to the hem of my shirt. He tugged it over my head in one quick motion, his eyes darkening as they raked over me.

“Fuck,” he muttered again, his hands sliding around to my back to pull me closer. “I can’t believe I waited this long.”

I couldn’t respond, couldn’t even think, as he pressed me back against the cushions of the couch. His body was over mine, his weight grounding me in a way that felt both overwhelming and intoxicating. His kisses grew more urgent, his touch more deliberate, as we moved together, the space between us disappearing entirely.

Our bodies collided like a force of nature — hot, desperate, and completely unrestrained. The room was quiet save for the sound of our ragged breathing, our wet kisses, and the occasional thud of clothes being tossed to the floor. His mouth was on mine again, and I felt like I couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t touch enough of him, couldn’t get enough of him.

Nic groaned, his voice low and guttural as his lips trailed down my neck and over my chest. His hands gripped my hips tightly, like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go. “You’re gonna kill me.”

I laughed breathlessly, threading my fingers through his hair and pulling his face back to mine. “Good,” I whispered against his lips before kissing him hard.

His laugh turned into a growl as his hands moved lower, sliding over the curve of my thighs and pressing me firmly into the couch. I gasped, my back arching as his touch lit a fire under my skin. He was everywhere, consuming me, and I didn’t want him to stop.

“I’ve thought about this,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear as he slid his hands back up my thighs. “So many fucking times.”

I couldn’t respond — not with words, at least. Instead, I pulled him closer, my nails scraping lightly down his back as his lips moved lower. My breathing hitched as he kissed a path down my stomach, his hands pushing my legs further apart.

“Shit,” I gasped, my head falling back against the cushions as he kissed along my inner thigh. The combination of his lips, his hands, and the way he was looking at me was almost too much.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my skin as he pressed a kiss just above my waistband before coming back up to hover over me. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with sincerity and desire. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that before.”

I swallowed hard, my hands finding their way to his face as I pulled him down for another kiss. “You don’t have to,” I whispered against his lips. “Just…don’t stop.”

And he didn’t.

He crawled back down, hooking his fingers through the belt loops of my shorts and pulling them down, not bothering to fiddle with the button or zipper. His impatience was electric, the shorts, along with my underwear, sliding off my legs in one swift motion before being tossed somewhere behind him. The weight of his gaze dragged over me, dark and burning with something primal.

“You’re fucking unreal,” he muttered, almost to himself, his hands running up the bare skin of my thighs, pausing just enough to make me shiver.

“Then stop wasting time,” I shot back, breathless, barely recognizing my own voice.

His lips quirked up in a smirk as he leaned down again, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin of my hip. “Bossy,” he teased, but his hands told a different story, sliding higher and higher, until—

“Fuck,” I gasped, my head tipping back as his fingers finally found the spot that had been aching for him.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent as he worked me in slow, deliberate circles. My hips bucked instinctively, trying to draw him closer, but he held me steady, his strength only adding to the overwhelming sensation.

“Nic,” I choked out, his name slipping from my lips before I could stop it.

His movements faltered for a second, his gaze snapping up to meet mine. Something flickered in his eyes — possessiveness, maybe, or the thrill of hearing his name like that from me. He leaned down, his breath hot against my skin.

“Say it again,” he commanded, his voice rough and dripping with authority.

“Fuck, Nic,” I whimpered, my hands fisting into the couch cushions as his fingers pressed deeper, his movements quickening.

“Good girl,” he rasped, the praise sending another wave of heat rushing through me. He shifted lower, his lips trailing kisses along my thighs as his fingers continued their relentless pace.

My breaths came quicker, my entire body trembling under his touch. He was merciless, pulling me apart inch by inch, dragging me closer to the edge until—

“Oh, my God,” I cried out, my vision going white as pleasure hit me like a tidal wave. My back arched, my hands scrabbling for purchase as I completely unraveled beneath him.

He didn’t stop, his mouth now replacing his hand as he coaxed every last tremor from me, his low groans vibrating against my skin. It was overwhelming, his name tumbling from my lips like a prayer as I sank back into the cushions, utterly spent.

Before I could catch my breath, he was on me again, his lips crashing against mine, hot and messy and desperate. I could taste myself on him, and instead of embarrassment, it only fueled the fire that hadn’t quite burned out.

“You’re gonna kill me,” I panted against his mouth, my fingers dragging over the lines of his chest, lower, to the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Fair fucking trade,” he growled, his teeth grazing my jaw as I tugged his pants down, freeing him.

The weight of him against my palm had me trembling all over again, but this time I didn’t hesitate. I wrapped my hand around him, relishing the hiss that escaped his lips.

“Jesus,” he muttered, his forehead falling to mine as his hips jerked into my touch. 

It wasn’t long before he pulled my hand away, pinning it above my head as he lined himself up with me, his free hand gripping my hip to keep me steady. His gaze locked on mine, his brows furrowed like he was barely holding himself together.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, though his body betrayed the tension coiled in him, begging for release.

I shook my head, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest. “Don’t you dare.”

With that, he pushed into me, slow and deliberate, a curse falling from his lips as he filled me completely. The stretch was almost too much, but the way he held me, his forehead pressed to mine, made it impossible to feel anything but him.

“Fuck, you feel…” he trailed off, his words lost in a groan as he pulled back and thrust forward again, this time harder, deeper.

I couldn’t respond, couldn’t form a single coherent thought as he set a rhythm, each movement driving me closer to the edge all over again.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice rough, and when my eyes met his, the intensity there stole what little breath I had left. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his pace quickening as his hand moved between us, his fingers finding that spot again, pushing me higher and higher.

“Nic, I—” I gasped, unable to finish the sentence as my body tightened around him, pleasure ripping through me with a force that left me trembling, crying out his name.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he fell over the edge, his groan low and guttural as he spilled into me, his body collapsing against mine.

For a long moment, neither of us moved, our ragged breaths filling the space between us. His weight was heavy but grounding, his head buried in the crook of my neck as his hands smoothed over my sides, soothing the aftershocks still rippling through me.

When he finally lifted his head to look at me, his lips quirked into a lazy, satisfied grin while his stringy hair flopped over his forehead and brushed my face.

We didn’t talk about it afterward. We never did. But that night became the first of many stolen moments, each one pulling me further into a reality I knew I could never have, not when I knew he’d be leaving in a few months to chase his dreams.

Back in the present, I forced myself to blink, the memory dissipating like smoke as I stood near the edge of the driveway, Nicholas’s smile fading from my mind. The sound of polite applause and welcomes brought me crashing back to reality.

I found him still looking at me, but he was interrupted by his mom pulling him in for another tight hug, which I was grateful happened. I wasn’t ready to talk to him, not right now. Suddenly feeling the bile in my stomach gurgle and gnaw at my insides, I leaned into my mom’s ear. “I think I forgot to put away one of the vacuums in the room,” I whispered.

She was too caught up in the moment, excitedly watching the family reunite, and only gave me a quick nod.

I inconspicuously retreated from the line of staff, my heart pounding harder with each step. The memory had shaken me more than I wanted to admit, the phantom sensation of his hands on my body lingering far too vividly in my mind, somehow feeling just as fresh even after all these years.

I darted into the house, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat outside. I leaned against the wall of the grand foyer, squeezing my eyes shut and taking a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm the mess of emotions swirling in my chest.

What the hell was I doing?

I had spent years convincing myself that what happened between us didn’t matter anymore — that it had been a fleeting thing, a summer romance born of youth and circumstance. But seeing him again had ripped open every wound I thought I’d buried.

I couldn’t stay out here and risk running into him again, not with her there. Not with that tiny bump on her stomach and the reality of what his life had become staring me in the face.

I turned on my heel and made for the stairs, pretending to head for the vacuum I hadn’t forgotten. I just needed a few minutes to pull myself together before someone noticed. I’d barely made it halfway up when everybody started making their way back inside. I looked over the railing as I continued my ascent, and Nicholas’s eyes flicked back up to me again before smiling over to his girlfriend as his mom showed her around the house, guiding the both of them toward the kitchen.

I ducked into the guest suite before anyone could notice me, closing the door softly behind me. My chest felt tight, my breaths too shallow, like I couldn’t get enough air. The memories of that summer wouldn’t leave me alone, clinging to the edges of my mind and taunting me with what once was.

I paced the length of the room, trying to shake it off. It had been years. Years since that night. Years since the others that followed. Years since I’d told myself it was over, that it had to be over. He made that very clear back then. It didn’t matter how he looked at me back then. It didn’t matter how he looked at me now. Except it did — to me, at least.

His smile when he spotted me outside, that flicker of something familiar in his dark brown eyes — it felt like a goddamn punch to the gut. And then there was her. That perfect, glowing woman who had everything I couldn’t even dream of. A future. A family. Him.

I let out a sharp breath, running a hand through my hair. Get it together, I told myself. I had a job to do, nothing more and nothing less.

Just then, the door opened, a few of the staff members walking in with luggage in tow and setting the bags near the foot of the bed. I politely smiled at them, “Are there any more bags you guys need help with?”

One of the housekeepers, Maria, glanced at me and shook her head, her arms straining slightly under the weight of a Louis Vuitton suitcase. “No, I think this is the last of it,” she said. Then, leaning closer, she added in a hushed tone, “I can’t believe she’s already moving in. Not wasting any time, huh?”

I forced a smile, my stomach twisting at her words. “Guess not,” I murmured.

I brushed past her and made my way out of the guest suite and rushed to the stairs. Just then Mrs. Chavez, Nicholas, and his girlfriend were all making their way up the stairs. The ladies were too engrossed in their conversation to notice me going down but when I brushed past them, Mrs. Chavez lit up.

“Oh, (Y/N)! There you are,” she smiled.

I stopped in my tracks and turned around to look up at them, politely smiling. “Hi, Mrs. Chavez. I was just making sure everything was ready in the guest suite.”

“(Y/N), this is Nicholas’s girlfrie— excuse me, fiancée, Valerie,” Mrs. Chavez smiled. “Valerie, this is (Y/N). She’s (Y/M/N)’s daughter and has also been with us for years.”

Valerie pulled back her black sunglasses then and flashed me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, such a contrast to the way I had seen her outside. “Hi,” she said in a perky tone as she looked down at me.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you, Valerie,” I smiled sheepishly, brushing the hem of my uniform, trying to avoid glancing at Nicholas. “I know Mrs. Chavez said I didn’t need to get you anything, but I left a bouquet of rhododendrons on your nightstand as a welcome gift,” I smiled.

“Oh!” She said, her jaw falling into an open smile, almost as if she was surprised I had considered her.

“She said they were your favorite,” I fiddled with my fingers without looking.

Nicholas turned his head to look up at his mom then, “That’s why you asked the other day,” a soft smile on his lips.

Mrs. Chavez nodded with a proud smile. “Of course. We wanted to make sure everything was perfect for your homecoming. And you know how (Y/N) has always been so thoughtful.”

Valerie glanced at the three of us, her smile faltering just slightly before she replaced it with another bright grin. “That’s so sweet of you, (Y/N). Thank you,” she said, but there was a hint of something sharp in her tone, subtle but unmistakable.

I nodded politely, feeling a flush creep up my neck. “It was nothing,” I said quickly. “I’ll let you all settle in. Mrs. Chavez, I’ll be in the kitchen helping prepare for brunch.”

As I turned to head back downstairs, Nicholas’s voice stopped me. “(Y/N).”

I paused, my heart stuttering in my chest as I turned back around to face him. “Yes?”

His smile was softer now, more genuine, and it felt like it was just for me. That was dangerous. “Thank you.”

The air between us crackled with an unspoken tension, but it only lasted a second before Valerie looped her arm through his, leaning into his side with a perfectly practiced smile.

“Let’s go look at our room, baby,” she chimed, her tone sugary sweet but just shy of dismissive.

Nicholas glanced at her, his smile faltering slightly, but he nodded and let her guide him up the stairs. “Yeah, let’s go,” he said, though his gaze lingered on me for just a moment longer before he turned away.

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to move down the stairs. The sharp edge of Valerie’s tone had sliced right through me, but I couldn’t blame her. She had every reason to feel territorial. Still, it stung. Not because she had him now — well, not entirely — but because I hated the way she looked at me, like I didn’t belong, like I was nothing more than the girl who cleaned the rooms and set the table.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I headed for the kitchen, hoping to lose myself in the chaos of brunch preparations. The sound of pots clattering and Paolo, the family chef, barking orders was almost comforting in its familiarity. I grabbed an apron from the rack and slipped it over my head, eager for the distraction.

I clapped my hands once. “What can I help with, Pao?”

He whipped around, a big smile peeking out from under his bushy, graying mustache, “Why don’t you start setting up the tables outside? People should be arriving soon, and we cannot have the tables looking bare,” he laughed.

I grabbed the stack of white linens and the box of polished silverware and plates from the counter, nodding at Paolo. “On it,” I said, thankful for the task to keep my hands busy and my mind distracted. Setting the tables meant I could stay busy and avoid the suffocating tension in the house. With that, I headed out to the garden.

The Chavez family brunches were always grand affairs, with guests flitting around the estate like peacocks, each one more polished than the last.

Outside, the estate was already buzzing with activity. Staff darted around carrying trays of mimosas and finger foods while Mrs. Chavez floated between them, directing traffic like the queen she was. I made my way to the tables arranged under the sprawling canopy of the garden, the sunlight filtering through the trees and dappling the perfectly manicured grass. The view should’ve been calming, but the knot in my stomach refused to loosen.

I began laying out the linens, smoothing them over the round tables one by one and making my way to the cart of centerpieces waiting to be arranged on the tables, carrying the sparkling crystal vases of wildflowers and carefully placing them on each table. I then arranged the cutlery with practiced precision, working methodically — placing forks, knives, and spoons on the correct sides and at the perfect angle and folding the linen napkins into perfect fans. The repetitive task helped steady my hands, though my mind still raced, replaying the exchange at the staircase.

Every now and then, I glanced up to make sure everything looked perfect — the kind of perfection the Chavez family always demanded. But the peace I’d found in the quiet of the garden was short-lived. A voice — sharp, clear, and just a little too close — cut through the gentle hum of the brunch preparations.

“So, how long have you worked here?”

I looked up to find her standing on the opposite side of the table, her arms crossed loosely, her sunglasses now perched on top of her glossy hair. Valerie looked every bit the picture of effortless elegance, but there was something about the way she leaned into her stance that felt…pointed.

“Uh…” I blinked, caught off guard. “Officially, almost six years now,” I replied softly, continuing to place plates and silverware. “I actually left for a bit after getting my bachelor’s to focus on working in my field, but I decided I wanted to get a master’s, so I came back last year so I can save up.” I’m not sure why I decided to tell half my life story to her. Maybe I thought it would endear me to her, hopefully.

She nodded, a polite smile stretching across her lips as she stepped closer. “Wow, six years. That’s a long time. You must really love it here.”

“It’s a good job,” I replied, carefully folding the last napkin into a crisp fan. “And my mom’s worked for the family for even longer, so… I kind of grew up here.”

Her expression didn’t shift much, but there was a flicker of something behind her eyes — a spark of curiosity, maybe, or judgment. “That’s sweet,” she said, her tone teetering on the edge of insincerity. “It must’ve been interesting growing up so close to Nicholas.”

My heart skipped. “He’s…always been nice,” I said carefully, my fingers tightening around the napkin in my hand.

Her smile widened, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure he was. Nic’s always had a big heart, hasn’t he?” She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping just enough to make the question feel more pointed. “He mentioned you earlier, you know. Said you were thoughtful. It’s nice that you went out of your way with the flowers.”

My chest tightened. I set the napkin down, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “It wasn’t a big deal. Just something I thought you might like.”

She tilted her head, studying me for a moment before her smile softened into something almost sympathetic. “Well, I appreciate it. It’s just…interesting, isn’t it? How people can sometimes misinterpret kindness.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with implication.

“What do you mean?” I asked, keeping my voice as steady as I could.

She shrugged, the movement graceful but dismissive. “Oh, nothing. I just think it’s good to keep things professional, don’t you? Lines can get blurry sometimes, especially when people have known each other for so long.”

The knot in my stomach tightened into something sharper, anger sparking under the surface of my calm. “I’ve always been professional,” I said evenly, my hands clenching at my sides. “I take my job seriously.”

Her smile faltered for a split second before she recovered, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Good,” she said, her tone light but laced with steel. “Because I don’t think Nic needs any distractions, especially right now with the baby and the wedding planning and all. And like you said, you’re saving up for graduate school, so you need this job, right?”

The words hit me like a slap, sharp and intentional. I swallowed hard, my fists tightening at my sides as I stared at her, trying to keep my composure. Her smile stayed in place, but there was nothing kind about it now. It was a challenge, a warning wrapped in a veneer of politeness.

“I do,” I said evenly, my voice steady despite the fire building in my chest.

Her eyes flicked over me, calculating, before she took a small step back. “Good. I’d hate for things to get…complicated.”

My fingers dug into the fabric of the napkin I was folding, crumpling its perfect creases. She was trying to assert her dominance, staking her claim over him in the most passive-aggressive way possible, and I couldn’t help but resent how effective it was. She didn’t have to scream or yell; her message was clear as day — I didn’t belong, here or with him. Though, I couldn’t exactly be mad at her for the latter.

She lingered for a moment longer, her gaze sweeping over the table as if she were inspecting my work. Then she turned and walked away, her heels clicking softly against the stone path as she made her way back toward the house.

I exhaled sharply, my shoulders sagging as the tension drained from my body. My hands trembled slightly, but I forced myself to keep working, adjusting the placement of a centerpiece that didn’t need adjusting.

I finished setting up the tables just as guests started to arrive, spilling into the picturesque backyard. I grabbed the stack of leftover plates and silverware and headed back inside to the kitchen, setting the things down with a particular force on the island.

Paolo’s eyes flicked up to me. “Whoa, whoa, what did the plates ever do to you?” He teased, his thick Italian accent curling around his words as he chopped a pile of fresh basil. His eyes, however, sharpened with concern as he studied me. “You look like you’re ready to murder someone.”

I forced a smile, the edges of it brittle. “I’m fine. Just a little overwhelmed with all the…guests,” I said, my voice strained.

He snorted, setting his knife down and leaning against the counter. “Guests, huh? Or just one in particular?”

I shot him a look, but Paolo wasn’t one to back down, especially when it came to teasing me. “Don’t look at me like that. I saw her come in here earlier. The new princess. She’s…what’s the word? A delight.”

“Don’t,” I said quickly, my voice sharper than I intended. “I don’t need you adding to it.”

Paolo raised his hands in mock surrender, his bushy mustache twitching with a smirk, but his curiosity lingered. He gave a small shrug before returning to his chopping. “Hey, I’m just saying. But if you need to stab into some dough, I’ll be right here.”

I huffed a small laugh despite myself, shaking my head as I grabbed a fresh tray of appetizers to take outside. “Thanks, Pao. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The backyard was already buzzing with chatter, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses. I moved through the crowd like a ghost, my tray balanced carefully in my hands as I offered bruschetta to the guests, avoiding eye contact whenever possible.

As I made my way through the backyard, weaving between clusters of perfectly dressed guests, I kept my head down and my movements mechanical. The tension from Valerie’s thinly veiled warning still coiled tight in my chest, like a spring waiting to snap. I smiled politely at the occasional “thank you” or “these are delicious,” but my focus was on getting through this without making a scene.

I weaved through the sea of polished smiles and clinking glasses, the tray of bruschetta growing lighter with every guest who plucked one off without a second glance at me. The hum of conversation was a soothing distraction, but my nerves buzzed beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. I’d done this a hundred times before, but today felt different — everything felt different with her here.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” an older woman murmured as she took a piece from the tray, her gold bracelets jingling as she moved. I nodded politely, offering a small smile before slipping away to the next cluster of guests.

And then I saw him.

Nicholas stood near the garden trellis, a glass of champagne in hand, talking to an older couple I vaguely recognized as longtime family friends. His easy smile was on full display, charming and genuine, and for a moment, I let myself linger, watching the way he carried himself. The way his head tilted slightly when he listened, the way his hands moved when he spoke — it was all so achingly familiar.

But just as quickly as the warmth of recognition filled me, it was snuffed out when Valerie appeared at his side. She slid her arm through his with practiced grace, her laugh cutting through the air as she joined the conversation. Nicholas glanced at her, his smile softening in a way that felt…off.

I turned away quickly, the sting sharper than I expected, and nearly collided with Paolo as he emerged from the house carrying a tray of fresh cannoli.

“Careful, ragazza,” he said with a laugh, steadying me with one hand. “You’ll knock me over before I even get these out to the guests.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, stepping back to let him pass. I caught the concern in his eyes as he looked at me, but thankfully, he didn’t say anything.

I took a steadying breath and made my way to the buffet table to drop off the now-empty tray. I needed a moment to collect myself before diving back into the crowd. But as I turned, I froze.

Nicholas was walking toward me.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest as he crossed the garden, his dark brown eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. He wasn’t smiling now, his expression unreadable but charged with something that sent a shiver down my spine.

I glanced around, worried if Valerie might’ve been watching, but I didn’t spot her anywhere. And just when I thought Nicholas might reach me, somebody approached him and started making conversation. I took that as my opportunity to grab a new tray of appetizers Paolo had put out and make my escape.

I moved quickly, balancing the fresh tray of canapés in my hands, keeping my head down as I skirted the edge of the garden. My pulse pounded in my ears, and I focused on the task in front of me: deliver the food, avoid Nicholas, and keep things professional — exactly the way Valerie had made painfully clear I needed to.

But, of course, fate had other plans.

I rounded a corner near the far end of the garden, heading toward a quieter cluster of guests when a firm hand caught my elbow, stopping me in my tracks. My breath hitched, and I turned sharply to find Nicholas standing there, his fingers still loosely wrapped around my arm. His dark eyes searched mine, and for a moment, the noise of the party faded into the background.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low but urgent.

I hesitated, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” I murmured, trying to keep my tone even.

His grip didn’t tighten, but it didn’t fall away either. “Please,” he said, his gaze holding mine. “Just for a minute.”

I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting. Against every ounce of better judgment, I nodded. “Fine. One minute.”

He let go of my arm, his hand brushing against mine briefly as he led me toward a more secluded corner of the garden, away from the prying eyes of guests and, more importantly, Valerie.

When we stopped, he turned to face me fully, his expression tight. He took the tray of canapés from my hands and set it down on a nearby ledge before running a hand through his hair, his fingers briefly tangling in the strands before resting on the back of his neck. He looked as if he were trying to find the right words, but the silence stretched between us, thick and charged.

“Nicholas,” I said softly, trying to break whatever tension was building. “You shouldn’t—”

“I don’t care what I should or shouldn’t do right now,” he interrupted, his voice low but sharp. “I need to ask you something.”

I blinked, taken aback by his sudden intensity. “What?”

His eyes searched mine, a mix of frustration and something else I couldn’t quite place. “Did she say something to you?” he asked, his tone urgent. “Earlier, when you were setting the tables — did she?”

The question hit me like a jolt. Of course, he’d noticed. Nicholas was too observant for his own good. I opened my mouth to deny it, to brush it off as nothing, but the look in his eyes stopped me. He already knew the answer.

“Why does it matter?” I hedged, looking down at the tray still balanced in my hands. “She’s your fiancée, and I’m just—”

“Don’t,” he said sharply, cutting me off again. His voice softened, but the edge remained. “Don’t finish that sentence,” he huffed deeply.

My chest tightened, and I forced myself to look at him. “She just told me to keep it professional,” I said, my voice quieter now.

Nicholas let out a frustrated breath, his jaw tightening. “She had no right to say anything to you.”

“She’s your fiancée,” I said, forcing the words out even though they felt like knives on my tongue. “She has every right to say whatever she wants. And she’s not wrong, Nicholas. You’re here with me instead of out there with your pregnant fiancée.”

He flinched, as if my words had struck him, but he didn’t look away. His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for me but was holding himself back. His gaze burned into mine, his dark eyes filled with a storm of emotions I couldn’t unravel. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair again. “Fuck. This is so much more complicated than I thought it would be.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding as I watched him struggle with whatever was going on in his head. I reached for the tray of canapés I had set down.

“Where are you going?” He asked quietly, hesitantly stepping toward me.

“I gave you a minute,” I spoke softly. “I have to get back to work.”

Nicholas reached out, his hand brushing my arm lightly as if to stop me. “Wait,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “Just… I’m sorry.”

I froze, my fingers tightening around the tray as I turned back to face him. For a moment, I thought he might apologize for what happened between us, since he never did, but that was just me being hopeful. “Sorry for what?” I asked, trying to keep my tone even, though my chest felt like it might collapse under the weight of the tension between us.

“For her,” he said bluntly, his jaw tightening. “For the way she spoke to you. She doesn’t know you — she doesn’t know anything about you — and she had no right to talk to you like that.”

I let out a sharp laugh, the sound more bitter than I intended. “You don’t have to apologize for her, Nicholas. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he shot back, his voice low and firm. “And I don’t want you thinking for a second that I agree with anything she said.” He took a step closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t deserve that.”

My breath caught, and for a moment, I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. The sincerity in his voice, the way his gaze held mine — it was too much. I glanced away, breaking the spell, and shifted the tray in my hands.

I looked down at the tray in my hands. “Get back to the party, Nic,” I said softly, using the nickname I hadn’t dared say in years.

Nicholas froze at the sound of his nickname on my lips, his eyes softening even as his jaw clenched. He stepped closer, closing the space between us until I could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“Don’t call me that unless you mean it,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady, like he was trying to keep himself from saying more.

My heart raced, my grip tightening on the tray as I looked up at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

He let out a frustrated huff, his hand reaching out to brush against my arm. “You do,” he murmured, his tone softening. “You know exactly what I mean, (Y/N).”

“Go back to the party, Nicholas,” I whispered again, my voice steadier this time. “Your fiancée’s probably wondering where you are.”

The words were like acid on my tongue, but they had the desired effect. His expression shifted, the tension in his shoulders returning as he nodded stiffly.

“Right,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair before turning away. He didn’t look back as he disappeared into the crowd of guests, his figure blending into the polished chaos of the brunch.

My hands trembled as I held the tray, forcing myself to breathe, to move, to pretend like my entire world hadn’t just shifted. I exhaled sharply, my chest burning as I turned and headed back toward the kitchen. My hands trembled slightly, the tray of canapés feeling heavier than it should.

Paolo glanced up as I set the tray down on the counter, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in my flushed face and trembling hands.

“Let me guess,” he said dryly, setting down the whisk he’d been using to whip cream. “The prince found you.”

I shot him a look, but there was no heat behind it. “Not now, Paolo.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender but didn’t push further, thankfully. Instead, he handed me a glass of water, his brow furrowed with genuine concern.

I took the glass and downed it in one go, the cool water doing little to calm the storm raging inside me. I set the glass down and leaned against the counter, closing my eyes as I tried to steady my breathing.

This was a mistake. All of it. Letting him talk to me, letting him get under my skin again — it was dangerous, and I knew better. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the way his words lingered, the way his gaze burned into me, the way he’d said my name like it still meant something to him. The way he’d apologized, not for himself, but for her.

Just then, Mrs. Chavez’s voice rang loudly through a speaker outside.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please!” Mrs. Chavez’s polished voice rang through the garden, cutting through the hum of chatter. “It’s time for a toast to officially welcome my son Nicholas and his beautiful fiancée, Valerie, back home!”

A polite round of applause followed, and my stomach churned. Paolo shot me a knowing glance, but I shook my head, silently begging him not to say anything. I pushed off the counter, needing to keep moving, to focus on anything other than the fact that I was about to witness yet another public display of their perfect union.

“Here, take these,” Paolo said, handing me another tray of hors d’oeuvres. “But if you need to take a break, I can cover for you.”

I forced a smile, taking the tray from his hands. He didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, turning back to his station as I made my way outside.

The garden was packed now, with guests clustered around. Mrs. Chavez stood near the head of the gathering, a crystal glass of champagne in hand and a radiant smile on her face. Nicholas and Valerie stood beside her, their hands intertwined, the perfect picture of a couple madly in love.

“Thank you all for coming today,” Mrs. Chavez continued, her voice warm and commanding. “It means so much to have you all here to celebrate Nicholas’s homecoming. And, of course, we’re thrilled to welcome Valerie into the family.”

Another round of applause erupted, and I clenched the tray in my hands, willing myself to stay calm.

“Nicholas, we are so proud of everything you’ve accomplished,” Mrs. Chavez went on, her eyes shining as she looked at her son. “And we couldn’t be more excited for this next chapter of your life.”

My chest tightened as I watched Nicholas glance down at Valerie, his smile faltering for just a moment before he quickly recovered while Valerie beamed up at him like the doting fiancée she was supposed to be.

Mrs. Chavez raised her glass higher. “To Nicholas and Valerie, and to the beautiful journey ahead of them!”

“To Nicholas and Valerie!” the crowd echoed, raising their glasses in unison.

I stayed near the back of the gathering, blending into the sea of staff and guests as best I could, offering hors d'oeuvres to the guests who weren’t already sipping champagne. My eyes flicked to Nicholas, unwilling but unable to stop myself from watching him. His gaze swept over the crowd, searching for something — or someone.

And then his eyes locked onto mine.

The air felt like it had been sucked out of the garden. Nicholas’s gaze bore into mine, unwavering and intense, as if he could see straight through me. My heart thudded against my ribcage, and for a moment, I forgot where I was, the tray of hors d’oeuvres suddenly feeling like an anchor in my hands.

His fiancée’s voice cut through the moment. “Nic,” she said sweetly, tugging lightly on his arm. “Everyone’s waiting to hear from you.”

He blinked, breaking the connection between us, and turned his attention back to her. The crowd quieted as Nicholas stepped forward, his hand still loosely holding hers. His usual confident demeanor faltered slightly, his jaw tightening as he accepted the microphone from his mother.

“Thank you, everyone,” he began, his voice steady but with an edge I recognized — frustration, maybe even exhaustion. “It’s great to be back home, surrounded by family and friends. And, of course, with Valerie by my side as we—” His words hesitated, the pause so slight I doubted anyone else noticed. “—start this new chapter.”

The crowd clapped politely, but my focus wasn’t on them. It was on him, the way his free hand tightened into a fist at his side, the way his eyes darted back to mine for a fraction of a second before quickly shifting away.

I needed to get out of there. My fingers gripped the edge of the tray as I stepped backward, retreating toward the house. My breath came in shallow bursts, my chest tight with a mix of emotions I couldn’t even begin to sort through.

As I returned to the kitchen, my mom and Paolo were conversing, something about how she loved the food. I never told her what happened between Nicholas and I all those years ago, so when I saw her, I made sure to keep my cool in front of her.

My mom glanced up as I entered, her face lighting up with a smile. “Oh, there you are! Isn’t it such a lovely event? Mrs. Chavez really outdid herself this time.”

I forced a smile, nodding as I set the tray down on the counter. “Yeah, it’s beautiful,” I said, keeping my tone light.

Paolo raised an eyebrow, glancing between me and my mom. He grabbed another tray of appetizers and headed for the door, muttering something about keeping the guests happy.

My mom moved closer, smoothing her apron as she studied me. “You look pale, sweetheart. Have you eaten anything today?”

I shook my head quickly, waving off her concern. “I’m fine, Mom. Just a little warm out there, that’s all.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, the way they always did when she didn’t quite believe me, but she let it go. “Well, don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You know how these events can be.”

I nodded, mumbling a quick “I won’t” before busying myself with tidying the counter. She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back out to join the staff overseeing the buffet.

As soon as she was gone, I leaned against the counter, letting out a shaky breath. My hands still trembled slightly, and my chest felt tight, but I couldn’t afford to lose my composure. Not here, not now.

I reached for a glass of water, trying to calm myself, but the kitchen door swung open again before I could take a sip.

Paolo was back, but he wasn’t alone.

Nicholas stepped into the kitchen behind him, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud. Paolo glanced back at him, then at me, and let out a low whistle. “You know, I think I’m just gonna…find something to do outside,” he said, quickly slipping out the door and leaving us alone.

Nicholas’s gaze found mine immediately, his dark eyes locked onto me with an intensity that made my breath catch. He closed the door behind him, the sound echoing in the now-empty kitchen.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended as I set the glass down with a little too much force.

“I needed to talk to you,” he said, his voice low but firm.

I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest as I took a step back. “We already talked, Nicholas. And I told you—”

“That wasn’t a conversation,” he interrupted, his tone hardening. “That was you running away.”

I froze, the words hitting a little too close to home. “I wasn’t running away,” I said defensively.

His gaze softened slightly, but the frustration still lingered. “Then stop pushing me away,” he said, taking a step closer. “You’ve been avoiding me left and right.”

“I haven’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice was quiet, but it cut through the space between us like a knife. “And it’s not just today. You’ve been avoiding me for years, (Y/N). Every time I come back here, you disappear. Every. Fucking. Time.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. What could I say? That he was right? That seeing him after everything was too much? That I didn’t trust myself to be near him?

He spoke again. “I know things are…complicated right now, but—”

“Complicated?” I snapped, my voice rising despite myself. “You’re engaged, Nicholas. She’s pregnant. That’s not complicated — that’s final.”

He flinched at the words. “It’s not as simple as you think.”

Before I could open my mouth to retort, Maria stepped into the kitchen. Nicholas and I stepped away from each other, avoiding her gaze as she awkwardly navigated through the kitchen looking for something before stepping back out.

As soon as the door clicked behind her, I opened my mouth. “Please, Nicholas,” I said, my voice firmer this time as I looked up at him. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his dark eyes searching mine as if he could find a way to make me stay. But then he nodded, stepping back with a defeated look that broke something inside me.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly before turning and walking out the door, leaving me alone in the quiet kitchen.

I stood there for a long moment, the weight of everything crashing down on me. I fought back the tears, clutching my tummy and breathing through it.

Paolo came back into the kitchen with some empty trays in hand. I watched him pass by, the door clicking shut behind him, and let out a shaky breath. Paolo glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“You sure you don’t want to stab some dough?” he asked lightly, his tone laced with concern.

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “No. But thanks for the offer.”

My fingers gripped the counter, willing myself to be calm. But how could I? When I would be working under the same roof as Nicholas and his pregnant fiancée? It was going to be a fucking disaster.

The next few days passed in a blur of routine and tension so thick it felt like it might snap at any moment. The estate was alive with activity, with staff rushing to accommodate the new guests while maintaining the meticulous standards Mrs. Chavez demanded. I threw myself into work, scrubbing floors, polishing silver, and reorganizing storage closets that didn’t even need it. Anything to keep my mind occupied and my interactions with Nicholas — and her — to a minimum. But it was impossible to avoid them entirely.

Every time I turned a corner, it felt like I ran into them. Her laughter echoed through the halls as she chatted with Mrs. Chavez, her heels clicking against the marble floors as she walked arm-in-arm with Nicholas to dinner or out to the garden for a stroll. She looked every bit the perfect fiancée, radiant and confident, and Nicholas played his role just as well. He smiled when she spoke, nodded when she made a joke, and rested his hand lightly on the small of her back as they walked. They were picture-perfect. But I couldn’t help noticing the cracks.

It was subtle, easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention. The way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when she leaned into him. The slight hesitation in his voice when he agreed with her about something trivial. The way his laugh sounded hollow whenever she told him something that was supposed to be funny. The way he glanced at me when he thought no one was looking, his expression unreadable but heavy with something I couldn’t name.

And then there was her.

She wasn’t as perfect as she appeared. She had a habit of nitpicking the staff’s work, pointing out the smallest imperfections in a way that felt more like asserting dominance than genuine concern. She constantly asked for things she didn’t really need — a different brand of water, freshly ironed pillowcases in the middle of the day — and always with a saccharine smile that didn’t quite hide the edge in her voice. She didn’t like me. That much was clear.

She didn’t say it outright, of course. She was too polished for that. But the way she watched me, the subtle digs in her words, the way she lingered just a little too long in the places I was working — it all made her feelings obvious. Still, I tried to keep my head down and focus on my job. I reminded myself that I didn’t matter to her, but the tension between us only seemed to grow.

The next crack appeared one morning, just as the estate was waking up. I was helping Paolo prep for breakfast in the kitchen — slicing fresh fruit, arranging pastries on a silver platter, and listening to his usual banter about how Americans don’t understand the value of a properly cooked egg. The rhythmic routine was almost enough to settle the nerves that had been my constant companion since Nicholas’s return.

Almost.

The door swung open, and the kitchen’s hum fell into a brief lull as Nicholas strolled in, followed closely by Valerie. His white t-shirt clung to him in a way that shouldn’t have caught my attention, but it did, and I forced my gaze back to the counter in front of me, slicing the strawberries a little too quickly.

“Morning, Paolo,” Nicholas said, his voice casual but warm. “Do you mind if we eat breakfast in here? The dining room feels… too much today.”

“Of course,” Paolo replied with a grin, always eager to play host to the family’s golden son. “Have a seat. I’ll whip up something special for you both.”

Valerie slid onto one of the stools at the kitchen island, her glossy hair still wet from a shower and tucked behind her ears. She looked effortlessly stunning, even in something as simple as a very loose-fitting tank top and yoga pants. It was infuriating how perfect she seemed, even now.

Nicholas leaned against the counter, his dark eyes scanning the spread of fresh ingredients I had sliced and diced. As I continued slicing strawberries, I could see Nicholas’s eyes flick over to me from my periphery and before he even had the chance to open his mouth, I glanced over to Valerie, who was already watching me and him. I grabbed the cutting board and turned my back to them, setting it down on the counter next to the stove and continuing my task.

“Paolo, do you have any leftover champagne from the brunch?” Valerie asked. “I’m craving a mimosa.”

I froze, the knife in my hand pausing mid-slice as the words sank in. Huh?

Paolo’s cheerful demeanor didn’t falter, though I caught the briefest flicker of surprise in his eyes from the corner of my eyes. “Ah, let me check. But, uh…” He glanced at Nicholas, then at Valerie, a question hanging unspoken in the air. “Is that…okay?”

Nicholas frowned slightly, his head tilting in confusion before realization dawned on his face. “Oh,” he said, his tone cautious as he turned to her. “Babe, you’re not supposed to drink while pregnant.”

Valerie blinked, her lips parting as if caught off guard. She recovered quickly, her laugh light and breezy. “Oh, come on, Nic. It’s just one mimosa. The doctor said a little bit of alcohol is fine, especially this early.”

Nicholas didn’t look convinced, his brow furrowing as he leaned closer to her, whispering, “Early? I thought you were almost four months.”

She waved him off with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, the movement almost theatrical. “You worry too much. It’s fine. It’s not like I’m downing tequila shots or anything.”

I kept my head down, forcing my hands to keep moving as I finished slicing the strawberries. My heart pounded in my chest, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. Paolo’s silence stretched on a beat too long before he cleared his throat and gave her a polite nod.

“Let me grab a bottle,” he said, turning toward the pantry.

Nicholas straightened, his unease lingering in his expression as he looked at her again. “I’m just saying, maybe we should check with your doctor before—”

“Nic,” she interrupted, her voice firm but still sweet. “It’s fine. Trust me.”

He hesitated, his gaze flicking to me briefly before he sighed and gave her a small nod. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

She flashed him a brilliant smile, her fingers brushing against his arm. “Thank you, baby. You’re the best.”

Paolo returned moments later with a chilled bottle of champagne, and I forced myself to focus on the fruit in front of me, pretending not to notice as he handed it over. Valerie poured herself a mimosa with practiced ease, the splash of champagne fizzing into the glass, and took a delicate sip.

Nicholas watched her, his brow still furrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything else. He picked up a piece of toast from the platter Paolo had set out and leaned against the counter, biting into it absently.

Paolo’s eyes flicked to me, a subtle glance that told me he’d noticed it too. I gave the smallest shake of my head, silently telling him to let it go. It wasn’t our place to question her. Not yet, anyway.

“Alright, what do you want to eat, hmm?” Paolo asked Nicholas with forced cheerfulness, breaking the tension that had settled over the room.

Nicholas smiled faintly, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly as he answered. But my focus remained on Valerie, who was now casually scrolling through her phone with her mimosa in hand, looking completely unbothered.

The moment passed, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as Paolo worked his magic in the kitchen. But the knot in my stomach didn’t loosen. It stayed there, a quiet, nagging reminder that something wasn’t quite right.

I tried to shake off the unease as the morning unfolded, immersing myself in mundane tasks to keep my mind from spinning in a hundred different directions. But it was no use. The scene in the kitchen kept replaying in my head, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

The thing was, her request for a mimosa wasn’t just off — it was brazen. Most women wouldn’t risk even the perception of drinking while pregnant, especially not in front of their fiancé and staff. Yet she had smiled, shrugged off Nicholas’s concerns, and taken that sip without a second thought.

Later that evening, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, I found myself outside, sweeping the stone pathway leading to the garden. The rhythmic scrape of the broom against the ground was almost meditative, drowning out the world around me. Or at least, it was until Paolo appeared, his usual jovial demeanor replaced with something more subdued.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice low as he approached. “Got a minute?”

I paused, leaning the broom against the nearby wall. “What’s up?”

He glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one else was within earshot, before stepping closer. “About this morning,” he began, his tone careful. “Did that feel…off to you?”

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the handle of the broom. “You mean the mimosa thing?”

He nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s not my business, but…it just didn’t sit right.”

I exhaled slowly, unsure of how much to say. “It didn’t sit right with me either,” I admitted. “Maybe she’s just careless,” I suggested weakly, though I didn’t believe it myself.

Paolo shook his head, his expression unreadable. “Maybe.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between us, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The distant sound of Nicholas’s laughter from the main house floated on the breeze, a stark contrast to the unease hanging in the air.

“Oh, my god,” I managed to speak through a fit of quiet  laughter, “I can’t believe you just said that, Nic.”

Nic and I were cuddling on the couch in the living room, laying down with our legs tangled together as we quietly watched a movie — Parasite — in our pajamas. He had his skinny arm wrapped around my waist, his hand carefully clutching my tummy so I wouldn’t fall off the edge.

It was well into the night, 2:38AM. His family was out for the weekend, my mom was too busy catching up on sleep to notice me sneaking out. He wasn’t supposed to be in the house, and neither was I; he had told his mom he’d be staying with a friend while they were gone, but he snuck us back into the estate, wanting to spend time with me.

The glow from the television flickered across the room, casting faint shadows over the walls as we lay there, cocooned in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The world outside could’ve crumbled, and I wouldn’t have noticed — not with the warmth of his body pressed against mine, his laughter rumbling softly in my ear

His laughter rumbled in his chest, warm and quiet, as he tightened his hold on me. “I’m just saying,” Nic murmured, his breath warm against my neck, “if I ever find a hidden stash of money, you’re the first person I’m calling. We’ll disappear together and live like royalty in some obscure village in Europe.”

I tilted my head back to look at him, my laughter fading into a quiet smile. “That’s the worst idea ever, Nic. We’d get caught in, like, a week.”

He smirked, his dark brown eyes gleaming with mischief. “Not if you’re the one planning the escape. You’re way too good at being sneaky.”

“Me?” I scoffed, nudging his side with my elbow. “You’re the one who snuck back into your own house like a criminal.”

He grinned, unrepentant. “What can I say? I missed you.”

The weight of his words hung between us, heavy and meaningful. My heart skipped, the warmth of his body against mine suddenly feeling too intense. I tried to play it off, rolling my eyes as I adjusted the blanket draped over us. “You’re such a sap.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” he teased, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “Admit it, baby.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding at the way he said the word baby. It was a nickname he used sparingly, but every time he did, it felt like he was branding it into my skin.

“Maybe,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against my temple. “I knew it.”

I didn’t respond, instead focusing on the movie playing on the screen. We fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only came after hours of talking and laughing. The room felt like its own little world, separate from the chaos of reality, the weight of his looming departure momentarily forgotten. But the heat of his gaze on me was impossible to ignore. After a moment, I felt his hand tighten slightly on my waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of my shirt in a soothing motion.

“Maybe you could go with me,” he said after a while, his voice quieter now.

I froze, my stomach twisting at his words. I turned my head to look at him, my brows furrowing. “Nic—”

“I mean it,” he interrupted, his expression earnest. “You could leave here and come with me. You can transfer to UCLA or something.”

For a moment, I let myself imagine it — the two of us starting over in Los Angeles, far away from all the pressures and expectations that seemed to define his life here. A part of me knew better than to believe him, knew this was nothing more than a fleeting fantasy. But another part of me — the part that still clung to the idea of us, of him — couldn’t help but entertain the idea.

“Tell me what it would be like,” I said suddenly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Our life in L.A.,” I said, opening my eyes to meet his. “If I went with you. Tell me what it would be like.”

Nic’s eyes lit up, a boyish grin spreading across his face as if he’d been waiting for me to ask. He shifted on the couch, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look down at me, his fingers still tracing soft circles on my waist.

“Okay,” he began, his voice filled with excitement, “we’d get this tiny apartment in West Hollywood. Nothing fancy, just enough space for us and, like, one really ugly couch that we’d find at a thrift store.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’d get the couch, wouldn’t you?”

“Obviously,” he said, grinning. “It’d have the worst pattern — like neon flowers or something — but it’d be ours. And we’d make it work because we’d have a killer view of the city from our fire escape.”

“Oh, so we’re hanging out on the fire escape now?” I teased, arching an eyebrow.

“Hell yeah,” he said, his voice laced with a mix of seriousness and playfulness. “We’d sit out there at night with a bottle of cheap wine — you’d drink most of it because I’m not really into wine — and we’d watch the city lights until the sun came up. And every once in a while, I’d make you listen to me practice lines for auditions.”

I snorted. “I’d probably end up being better at your lines than you.”

“You probably would,” he admitted, smirking. “But then you’d have to promise not to steal my roles.”

“No promises,” I said, my smile softening as I looked up at him. “What else?”

“Well,” he continued, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, “you’d enroll at UCLA, and you’d absolutely crush it. You’d have this whole group of friends who’d think you were the coolest person ever. And I’d show up after my auditions and embarrass you by making dumb jokes in front of them.”

I rolled my eyes, but my chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. “Sounds terrible.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm, and leaned closer, his forehead resting against mine. “It wouldn’t be, though,” he said softly. “It’d be perfect. Just you and me, figuring it all out together.”

For a moment, I let myself believe him. I let myself imagine waking up in a tiny, sunlit apartment, tangled in sheets that smelled like him. I imagined late-night conversations on that ugly thrift store couch, walking hand-in-hand through streets I’d never been to, and stealing kisses on a fire escape with the city buzzing around us. It was a beautiful dream, one that made my chest ache with both longing and dread.

But dreams weren’t reality.

“We can worry about all of that later,” I said quietly, breaking the spell. “Right now it’s just you and me — right here.”

Nic studied me, his dark eyes flickering with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. His hand lingered against my cheek, his thumb brushing the curve of my jaw. The air between us was heavy, charged with unspoken feelings that neither of us dared to put into words.

“Right here,” he echoed softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Okay.”

I leaned into his touch, letting my eyes flutter shut as I memorized the way his skin felt against mine, the warmth of his body pressed so close to me.

Nic’s hand slid from my cheek, his arm wrapping securely around my waist once more as he pulled me closer. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was comforting, grounding in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

For a long time, neither of us spoke. The movie played on, its plot forgotten as we soaked in the warmth of each other’s presence. Nic’s fingers absently traced patterns on my side, his touch light and soothing.

“I’ll just hide in your suitcase. No one will ever know,” I joked lightly, trying to ease the tension.

Nic let out a soft laugh, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “You’d probably get me arrested.”

“Worth it,” I teased, though my voice wavered slightly.

He tightened his hold on me, his smile fading as his expression turned serious once more. The tension between us was palpable, the moment stretching out like it was trying to make up for all the time we wouldn’t have later. I leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, trying to convey everything I couldn’t put into words. He responded immediately, his hand slipping into my hair as he deepened the kiss, pulling me impossibly closer.

I wanted to believe him, to let myself get swept away in the fantasy of us. But deep down, I knew better. He had a whole world waiting for him, a world that didn’t include late-night movie marathons and whispered promises on the couch. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to let go — not yet.

I pressed a soft kiss to his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart fill the silence between us. We both knew the truth — no matter how much we wanted to hold on to this moment, the future was already rushing toward us, unstoppable and inevitable.

But for now, we pretended it wasn’t. We pretended we had all the time in the world, cocooned in the quiet intimacy of the living room, holding on to each other as if the rest of the world didn’t exist, as if the moment would never end.

“Should we keep an eye out?” Paolo asked quietly.

I blinked, the vivid memory dissolving as Paolo’s question pulled me back to the present. The garden’s hum of distant conversation and the clinking of glasses filtered into my awareness again. I turned to him, my fingers tightening around the broom handle.

“Keep an eye out for what?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

Paolo tilted his head toward the house, where Nicholas and Valerie had disappeared moments ago. “For her,” he said, his tone careful. “Something’s…off, don’t you think?”

I hesitated, the question hanging heavy between us. The mimosa incident replayed in my mind, along with the countless subtle digs and sharp smiles she’d thrown my way. But I wasn’t sure how to answer Paolo without revealing more than I should.

“I don’t think it’s our business,” I said finally, my voice firm even as my chest tightened. “Whatever’s going on between them, it’s… not for us to get involved.”

Paolo studied me, his sharp eyes narrowing as if he could see straight through the lie I’d just told. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he nodded slowly. “Maybe not,” he conceded, though the doubt lingered in his tone. “But if she keeps acting like she owns the place — and if she keeps treating you like that — I might have to accidentally spill some perfume in her mimosas.”

I let out a startled laugh, the sound louder than I intended. It felt good, even if it was fleeting. “Don’t you dare, Paolo,” I said, shaking my head. “Mrs. Chavez would fire both of us on the spot.”

Paolo shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Worth it.”

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth of his humor helped chip away at the tension that had been coiled in my chest all day. I tightened my grip on the broom and turned back to the path I’d been sweeping. “Let’s just get through this week without any dramatic incidents, okay?”

Paolo didn’t respond immediately, and when he did, his voice was softer. “You know, (Y/N), you’re too good at keeping quiet. But don’t forget, not everyone deserves that kind of grace.”

His words struck a chord I didn’t want to acknowledge, so I simply nodded, keeping my focus on the broom as I swept the pathway. Paolo lingered for a moment longer before heading back toward the kitchen, whistling a cheerful tune that didn’t quite match the lingering weight of our conversation.

As I worked, the sunlight began to fade, casting long shadows across the garden. The air grew cooler, the estate slowly returned to its usual quiet, the chaotic energy of the morning giving way to a calm that felt almost eerie in its contrast.

By the time I finished my tasks and made my way back inside, the house felt empty, save for the faint murmur of voices coming from the sitting room. I didn’t need to look to know who was there. The pull of his presence was unmistakable, and I felt it in the way my heart skipped, the way my steps faltered as I passed by the open doorway.

Nicholas’s voice carried out softly, low and warm as he spoke to his mother. Valerie was there too, her laughter light and airy, perfectly timed to whatever joke he’d just made.

I paused just out of sight, my fingers brushing against the doorframe as I lingered for a moment longer than I should have. The sound of Nicholas’s voice, rich and familiar, sent a pang through my chest, the warmth of it bringing back every memory I’d tried to bury.

“Nic, tell Valerie about the time you got locked out of the house and tried to climb through the kitchen window,” Mrs. Chavez said, her voice filled with amusement. “You were what — eighteen? And had the nerve to blame Paolo for not leaving it open.”

“Oh, come on,” Nicholas said, his tone light and teasing. “Paolo swore he’d leave it open for me. And in my defense, I made it halfway through before I got stuck.”

I could picture it so vividly — Nicholas’s sheepish grin, the warmth in his eyes as he spun the story for maximum comedic effect. It was a part of him I’d always loved, the way he could charm a room without even trying. And now, watching him slip so effortlessly back into his role as the golden son, I felt a sharp ache of longing for the way things used to be.

I forced myself to move, slipping past the doorway as quietly as I could and heading for the hallway to make my way to the half-bath and have a few moments for myself before having to clock out with my mom and go home.

I closed the bathroom door behind me, locking it softly before leaning back against the cold wood. My chest heaved as I fought to regulate my breathing, the weight of the day pressing against my ribcage like an iron vice.

I couldn’t help but think about what Nicholas had told me a few days ago during the homecoming brunch, his words echoing in my mind, as clear and haunting as the memory of his touch.

“It’s not as simple as you think.”

I didn’t know what he meant. Was it an excuse? A warning? A plea? I couldn’t tell. Nicholas had always been so good at telling me exactly what I wanted to hear, but this… this felt different. There was a heaviness in his voice that lingered, gnawing at me like a question I didn’t dare ask.

I closed my eyes, letting the faint hum of the air vent fill the silence as I replayed every word, every glance, every moment of the past few days. What wasn’t simple? His engagement? Her pregnancy? Or was it… us?

I hated that my mind even went there. Hated the way my stomach flipped at the unfounded idea that he might still feel something for me. Hated that despite everything — the years, the distance, the her — I still felt tethered to him in a way that defied logic and reason. It wasn’t fair for any of us.

I pressed my palms against the cool porcelain sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes wide and glassy. I looked like someone I didn’t recognize — someone who was still clinging to the past, hoping for something that could never be.

With a deep breath, I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto my face. The sharp chill jolted me out of my thoughts, grounding me in the present. I couldn’t afford to spiral, not now. Not when I still had to face him again. Not when I had to walk out of this house and pretend like I didn’t feel like I was falling apart from the inside out.

Gripping the edge of the sink, I let the water run for a moment longer, watching as it swirled down the drain. I wanted to believe it could take my feelings with it, flushing them away until there was nothing left but the professional, composed person I was supposed to be.

But the ache in my chest remained, stubborn and unrelenting.

I dried my face with a towel, smoothing down the front of my uniform as I straightened up. My reflection stared back at me, and for a moment, I almost believed the mask I was wearing. Almost.

As I unlocked the door and stepped back into the hallway, the faint murmur of voices from the sitting room reached my ears again. Nicholas’s laugh cut through the noise, warm and familiar, sending a shiver down my spine.

My mom, Paolo, and Maria approached me then.

“Ready to go?” My mom asked with a smile. I nodded my head. “Okay, let’s go say bye.”

“Sure,” I replied softly, forcing a small smile. The last thing I wanted was another moment in that sitting room, another chance for Nicholas to look at me with those unreadable dark eyes. But I nodded and followed my mom and the others down the hall, my steps heavy with reluctance.

The sitting room came into view, the golden glow of the chandelier illuminating the scene like a snapshot of perfection. Mrs. Chavez stood near the fireplace, her glass of wine held delicately in one hand as she laughed at something Nicholas had said. Valerie sat on the couch beside him, her hand resting on his knee, her expression poised and radiant.

I lingered in the doorway, letting my mom take the lead. She greeted Mrs. Chavez warmly, the two women exchanging pleasantries while Paolo and Maria offered polite smiles. I stayed a step behind them, hoping to blend into the background and avoid drawing any attention to myself, just as Valerie warned me to do all those days ago. But, of course, Nicholas’s gaze found me almost immediately.

It was as if he had some sort of radar that zeroed in on me the second I entered a room. His dark eyes softened when they landed on mine, the faintest flicker of something unspoken passing between us. I couldn’t place it — regret, longing, guilt? Maybe all of it.

I tried to look away, to focus on Mrs. Chavez’s effusive gratitude or the polite laughter of the staff. But his gaze pinned me in place, and for a moment, the room fell away. The warmth of the chandelier, the clinking of glasses, the sound of Valerie’s light laughter — they all faded, leaving only the two of us locked in a silent battle of wills.

I could see the questions in his eyes, could feel the weight of his unspoken words pressing against my chest. But I couldn’t give him anything. Not here. Not now.

“(Y/N),” Mrs. Chavez said, her voice breaking through the moment like a sharp blade. “Thank you so much for your hard work this week and being accommodating for Nicholas and Valerie their first week here. Truly, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

My lips stretched into a polite smile as I nodded. “It’s always a pleasure, Mrs. Chavez. I’m glad everything went smoothly.”

“It went better than smoothly,” Valerie chimed in, her voice saccharine sweet. “You’ve been such a big help. We’re all so lucky to have you.”

Her words dripped with false sincerity, the subtle emphasis on help making my stomach churn. She smiled at me, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t quite name. Possession, maybe? Control?

“Thank you,” I managed, keeping my voice steady. “I’m glad I could assist.”

My mom gave Mrs. Chavez a final warm goodbye before turning to me, her smile gentle but tired. “Ready to head home, sweetheart?”

I nodded quickly, eager to escape the suffocating tension that seemed to follow me like a shadow. “Yes, absolutely.”

“Drive safely!” Mrs. Chavez called out, her tone cheerful as we turned to leave.

“Goodnight,” Nicholas said softly, his voice so low I doubted anyone else heard it. But I did. And it was enough to send a shiver down my spine.

I didn’t turn back. I couldn’t. I followed my mom and the others out of the sitting room, keeping my head down and my pace brisk. But as we stepped out into the cool night air, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze still on me, like a ghost trailing behind.

The car ride home was quiet. My mom chatted lightly with Paolo and Maria, but I stayed silent, staring out the window as the city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, closing my eyes as I tried to banish the thoughts. But they wouldn’t go away. They clung to me, persistent and unrelenting, like the ghost of a dream I couldn’t let go.

I wanted to hate him. I wanted to hate how easily he could unravel me with a single glance. But more than that, I wanted to hate myself for letting him. For still caring. For still hoping.

That night, long after my mom had gone to bed and the house was enveloped in an almost oppressive silence, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I wasn’t expecting anyone to call — least of all him. But when I saw Nicholas’s name on the screen, my stomach flipped. I hadn’t seen his name flash across my phone in over four years. He would call sporadically when he first moved to Los Angeles, but I never bothered to answer him, still hurt. But he persisted, checking up on me for over a year, but eventually those interactions petered out until they stopped completely.

My first instinct was to ignore it, to pretend I didn’t see it and let it go to voicemail. But my fingers betrayed me, and before I knew it, I was answering.

“What are you doing?” I asked without preamble, keeping my voice low as I climbed out of bed and walked over to my window to look out into the neighborhood.

“So you do answer the phone,” he said softly, the warmth of his voice disarming. It was the same tone he’d used years ago when he’d call late at night, just because he was bored or couldn’t sleep. “Did I wake you?”

I glanced at the clock. It was just past 2AM. “No,” I lied. “But you shouldn’t be calling me.”

“Why not?” he asked, a teasing lilt creeping into his tone.

“Because it’s two in the morning,” I replied, leaning against the window frame. I glanced out into the quiet street, the glow of the streetlights casting faint shadows on the pavement. “And because you shouldn’t be calling me, period.”

Nicholas chuckled softly, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “God, you haven’t changed at all. Always scolding me like I’m some kind of delinquent.”

“Maybe because you were a delinquent,” I shot back. “Sneaking out, pulling pranks, climbing into windows — need I go on?”

He laughed, a low, familiar sound that made my chest ache. “Okay, fair. But you were always the one to bail me out.”

“Someone had to,” I said, crossing my arms. “Why are you calling me, Nicholas?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice losing some of its playfulness. “I guess I just missed talking to you.”

The words hung between us, heavy and unspoken for so long that I wasn’t sure how to respond. Part of me wanted to hang up, to stop this before it became something I couldn’t handle. But the other part of me — the part that still remembered the way he used to make me laugh until my stomach hurt — couldn’t let go.

“You’re not allowed to miss me,” I said finally, my voice softer than I intended.

“Why not?” he asked, and there was an edge of vulnerability in his tone that made my chest tighten.

“Nic…” I started, but I didn’t know how to finish.

“Do you remember the time I snuck you into the neighborhood pool?” he asked, his voice lightening again, like he was trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters.

I laughed despite myself. “How could I forget? You almost got us arrested.”

“Almost,” he emphasized. “But we didn’t, thanks to my brilliant negotiation skills.”

“You mean your ability to look like a terrified boy who couldn’t possibly break the law?” I teased.

“Hey, whatever works,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “That was a good night.”

“It was,” I admitted, leaning against the window. “Even if you did almost get us caught.”

“See? You liked a little danger,” he said, his tone teasing again. “You just didn’t want to admit it.”

“Don’t push your luck,” I warned, though the smile on my face lingered.

We fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only came from years of knowing someone so well. For a moment, it felt like we were back in our old pattern, like the years and the distance hadn’t changed anything.

“I missed this too,” I said softly, almost to myself.

“I knew it,” he said, his voice quiet but triumphant. “You’re not as tough as you pretend to be.”

“Go to bed, Nic,” I said, but there was no heat in my words.

“Goodnight, baby,” he said, the nickname slipping out so effortlessly that it took me a second to register it.

I froze, my heart skipping a beat, and I could hear the uncertainty on the other side of the line. I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the phone as my mind scrambled for a response. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears, drowning out everything else.

“Nicholas,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t… you can’t call me that anymore.”

There was a pause, the silence stretching between us like a taut wire. Then, his voice came through, soft and almost apologetic. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out.”

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the window, closing my eyes as the ache in my chest deepened. “Goodnight, Nicholas,” I whispered.

When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

I ended the call and stared at my phone for a long moment, the screen dark and lifeless in my hand. My reflection in the glass caught my eye, and I barely recognized the person staring back at me—eyes wide and glassy, lips pressed into a thin line, the weight of the past etched into every line of my face.

I turned away from the window and climbed back into bed, pulling the blankets up around me like they could shield me from the storm raging inside. But sleep didn’t come easily. His voice lingered in my mind, the way he’d said my name, the way he’d called me baby like nothing had changed. But everything had changed. And no amount of late-night phone calls could undo that.

Eventually, exhaustion won out, and I drifted into a restless sleep, the echoes of his voice haunting my dreams.

The following week, I arrived at the Chavez estate early, the morning sun casting long shadows across the manicured lawn. My stomach twisted with unease as I approached the staff entrance, the memory of Nicholas’s voice from our late-night phone call still fresh in my mind. I hadn’t seen him since that night, and I wasn’t sure what to expect when I did.

As I stepped into the kitchen, the familiar scent of coffee and fresh pastries greeted me, but the usual hum of morning activity was missing. The house felt quieter than usual, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

I moved through the hallways, heading toward the laundry room to drop off a stack of linens. As I passed by the library, faint voices reached my ears. I paused, instinctively slowing my steps as I recognized one of them.

Nicholas.

I couldn’t make out what he was saying at first, but his tone was low and tense. I edged closer, staying just out of sight behind the slightly ajar door. His voice grew clearer, and I caught snippets of the conversation.

“Why won’t you let me go with you?” Nicholas asked, frustration evident in his tone.

“I already told you, Nic,” Valerie replied, her voice sharp but hushed. “It’s not necessary. I can handle it on my own.”

“That’s not the point,” he said, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. “I’m the father of that baby. I should be there with you, especially for something as important as this.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said smoothly, but her tone carried an edge that made me stiffen. “You’d just be sitting around for hours, and I don’t want to waste your time.”

“It’s not a waste of time,” Nicholas shot back. “You’ve been brushing me off about these appointments for weeks now. What’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on,” she insisted, her voice taking on a defensive note. “You’re overthinking this, like you always do.”

I pressed myself closer to the wall, my heart pounding in my chest. I shouldn’t be listening to this. I knew that. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t force myself to walk away.

“This isn’t just about me, Valerie,” Nicholas continued, his voice quieter but no less intense. “It’s about our baby. Don’t you get that?”

“I do,” she said, her tone softening slightly. “But you have so much on your plate already, Nic. I don’t want to add to it.”

“Stop making excuses,” he said, his voice tinged with desperation. “Valerie, if there’s something you’re not telling me…”

There was a long pause, the silence stretching out like a taut string ready to snap. When Valerie finally spoke again, her voice was icy. “You’re being ridiculous,” she said. “There’s nothing to tell, and I don’t appreciate you accusing me of hiding something.”

“I’m not accusing you,” Nicholas said, his voice heavy with frustration. “I just want to understand why you won’t let me go with you. You’re shutting me out.”

“I’m not shutting you out,” she snapped. “You’re just imagining things.”

The conversation ended abruptly as the sound of footsteps grew louder, and I realized too late that they were heading toward the door. I quickly ducked into a nearby hallway, pressing my back against the wall as I tried to calm my racing heart.

A moment later, the library door swung open, and Valerie strode out, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She didn’t notice me as she made her way down the hall, her posture stiff and unyielding. Nicholas followed a few seconds later, his expression grim as he ran a hand through his hair.

I held my breath, willing myself to stay hidden until they were both out of sight. Only when the house was quiet again did I step back into the hallway, my thoughts swirling with everything I’d just overheard.

Something was definitely wrong. And whatever it was, it wasn’t as simple as Valerie claimed.

I made my way over to the supply closet by the stairs, ready to start my day of work. A few hours later, as I moved between the kitchen and dining room setting up for lunch, I couldn’t help but notice how unusually quiet the house felt. It wasn’t just the lack of guests bustling around or the muted sounds of the staff — it was the absence of her.

Valerie had left for her doctor’s appointment shortly after the argument in the library, and the air felt lighter without her presence, though a sense of unease still lingered. Nicholas, on the other hand, seemed restless. I’d spotted him pacing the garden once or twice, his head bent as though deep in thought. Each time our paths crossed, he lingered a little too long, his dark eyes following me in a way that made it impossible to ignore him.

I ducked into the dining room, smoothing the tablecloth with careful precision and adjusting the silverware until it was perfectly aligned. But the sound of approaching footsteps made my stomach twist. I didn’t need to look up to know it was him.

“(Y/N).” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, and I froze mid-motion, my hand gripping the edge of the table.

I took a breath before turning to face him. “Yes, Nicholas?” I said, keeping my tone polite and professional, though my pulse quickened at the sight of him standing in the doorway.

His brow furrowed at my use of formality, but he didn’t call me out on it. Instead, he stepped closer, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Can we talk?”

I glanced toward the kitchen, half-expecting someone — anyone — to walk in and save me. But the doorway remained empty. I sighed, resigning myself to the inevitable. “What is it?” I asked, straightening up.

Nicholas hesitated, as though debating how much to say. Finally, he shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Something’s not right,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously, crossing my arms over my chest.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his face. “She’s been acting… different. Evasive. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy or something else, but she won’t let me go to any of the appointments. She won’t even show me pictures of any recent ultrasounds, and she changes the subject whenever I bring it up.”

I resisted the urge to point out the obvious — you’re asking the wrong person. Instead, I kept my expression neutral, though my mind was racing with everything I’d overheard earlier.

“Nicholas,” I began, keeping my voice steady, “maybe she’s just scared. Pregnancy can be complicated.”

“Don’t defend her,” he said sharply, his gaze snapping to mine. But then his face softened, guilt flickering in his dark eyes. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just — she’s hiding something. I can feel it.”

I looked away, unsure how to respond. His voice was heavy with an unspoken plea, and it pulled at something deep inside me. But I couldn’t get involved. Not like this.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I said, forcing my tone to remain calm. “You’re her fiancé. She should trust you enough to tell you whatever’s on her mind.”

“And what if she doesn’t?” he asked, stepping closer. His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “What if she’s lying to me?”

The question hung in the air between us, charged with an intensity that made my chest tighten. I searched his face, looking for some indication of what he wanted from me. Reassurance? Advice? Or something else entirely?

“That’s something only she can answer,” I said finally, my voice quiet but firm. “You need to talk to her, not me.”

His jaw clenched, frustration flashing in his eyes. “I’ve tried. She shuts me out every time.”

I hesitated, weighing my words carefully. “Maybe you need to give her time. Or maybe… you need to ask yourself why she feels like she can’t be honest with you.”

Nicholas blinked, the weight of my suggestion seeming to land heavily on him. He looked down, his shoulders sagging slightly as he exhaled. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I just… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

The vulnerability in his tone caught me off guard, and for a brief moment, I forgot about the walls I’d built between us. I reached out instinctively, my hand brushing against his arm. “You’ll figure it out, Nic,” I said softly, the nickname slipping out before I could stop it. “You always do.”

His head snapped up at the sound of his name on my lips, his gaze locking onto mine. The tension between us crackled like static electricity, and I quickly withdrew my hand, stepping back as reality crashed over me.

“I should get back to work,” I said hurriedly, avoiding his gaze as I moved toward the door.

“(Y/N), wait—”

But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. My heart was pounding too hard, and I knew that if I stayed, I’d only end up making things worse. For both of us.

As I disappeared into the kitchen, I caught one last glimpse of him standing alone in the dining room, his expression unreadable but heavy with something I didn’t dare try to name.

Later that evening, Mrs. Chavez made a surprising announcement as the staff began cleaning up after lunch.

“Everyone, I insist you all join us for dinner tonight,” she said, her warm smile lighting up the room. “You’ve worked so hard lately, more so than usual, and I’d love for you to enjoy a meal with us as thanks for everything you do.”

Paolo shot me a curious look from across the kitchen, while my mom exchanged hesitant glances with Maria. Staff dining with the family was an unusual request, but it was hard to say no to Mrs. Chavez’s gracious invitation.

“It would be an honor, Mrs. Chavez,” my mom finally said, speaking for all of us.

By the time dinner rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves. The dining room had been transformed into an elegant yet intimate setting, with candles flickering softly on the long table. The guests were fewer now — the younger Chavez children, Mrs. Chavez and her husband, Nicholas and Valerie, and us — but the air of formality remained.

I sat between Paolo and my mom, doing my best to stay inconspicuous as the Chavez family took their seats at the head of the table. Nicholas was directly across from me, with Valerie beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. She looked radiant as always, her smile bright and practiced as she engaged in polite conversation with Mrs. Chavez. But I couldn’t shake the memory of Nicholas’s earlier confession.

Paolo must have sensed the tension because he leaned over, his voice low as he murmured, “Relax, (Y/N). It’s just dinner. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I managed a weak smile, but the knot in my stomach refused to loosen.

Dinner began smoothly enough. Paolo, ever the entertainer, kept the conversation light with stories of his childhood in Sicily, drawing laughter from everyone at the table — even Valerie.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to sneak a goat into my grandmother’s kitchen?” he asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Mrs. Chavez chuckled. “A goat, Paolo? You must tell us the whole story.”

As Paolo launched into the tale, I stole a glance at Nicholas. He wasn’t laughing; instead, he seemed distracted, his gaze flicking toward me more often than was comfortable. I quickly looked away, focusing on cutting my steak into tiny, precise pieces. And every time I dared to look up, his dark eyes met mine, holding me captive for a fraction of a second before I forced myself to look away.

It wasn’t just the glances — it was the way he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the edge of the table as though he were restless. The way his smile never quite reached his eyes when he laughed at Paolo’s story. The way his attention drifted from Valerie every time she spoke, his responses automatic and distant.

Halfway through the meal, Valerie excused herself, a delicate hand resting on Nicholas’s shoulder as she whispered something to him before standing and walking out of the dining room.

I tried to focus on Paolo’s animated story, on the ripple of laughter that followed his exaggerated hand gestures, but something about her caught my attention. After a minute or two, I excused myself from the table, muttering something about going to the bathroom. Really, I made my way over to the kitchen.

That’s when I saw her.

Valerie was standing by the counter, a crystal wine glass in hand. Her back was to me, but I could see the stiff line of her shoulders, the way her fingers trembled slightly as she raised the glass to her lips and took a long, deliberate sip.

I froze in the doorway, my breath catching in my throat. Drinking? Again?

The sound of the glass clinking against the counter jolted me back to reality. She set it down carefully, wiping her lips with a practiced swipe of her thumb before straightening her posture and turning toward the door.

I darted back into the hallway, pressing myself against the wall as she exited the kitchen and headed back to the dining room, her steps measured and composed as if nothing had happened.

My heart pounded as I replayed the scene over and over in my head. There was no mistaking what I’d just seen. She wasn’t pretending to take a sip for appearances. She was drinking — and she was doing it when she thought no one was watching.

When I finally returned to the dining room, the conversation had shifted to lighter topics. Guests were chatting over glasses of wine, their laughter filling the space with a warm hum. I slipped back into my seat beside Paolo, but my mind was racing.

As soon as the plates were cleared and the guests began drifting toward the lounge for coffee, I saw my chance to slip away, stealing a half-empty bottle of wine on the way out. My chest felt tight, my thoughts spiraling as I made my way outside, the cool night air biting against my skin.

I needed space. I needed to think.

The pool house loomed ahead, its dark silhouette offering a semblance of privacy. I ducked behind it, leaning against the rough stone wall as I pulled out the bottle I’d hidden under my jacket earlier.

The wine was lukewarm now, and the first sip burned, sharp and bitter against my tongue. I wasn’t a red wine type of person, and I didn’t really drink, but right now I didn’t care. I tipped the bottle back for another, the warmth spreading through my chest, numbing the edges of the storm swirling in my mind.

The memory of Valerie in the kitchen, the glass of wine in her hand — what the hell was she thinking? Pregnant and drinking. The audacity, the recklessness, the… everything. She was lying. But why?

I took a long sip, the burn spreading through my chest and grounding me, if only for a moment. I closed my eyes, letting the cool night air lick at my skin, trying to drown out the thousand questions buzzing in my head. But instead of clarity, a different memory crept in — one I hadn’t let myself think about in years.

“Come on, just one drink,” Nicholas had said, holding up the bottle like it was a prize he’d won. He had pulled it out from under his bed. He was embarrassed he still had to sneak alcohol into his room, even though he was just a few months shy of turning 21. “You’re in college now. It’s about time.”

“You sound like a bad after-school special,” I’d replied, sitting cross-legged on his bed, my arms folded stubbornly. 

He laughed, low and smooth, the sound curling in my stomach like smoke. “Relax, baby. It’s one drink. Not like I’m handing you a syringe.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Yeah, but I’m your favorite asshole,” he shot back, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on. Live a little.”

The bottle in his hand was cheap — barely legal for him to buy, no doubt — but his grin was intoxicating, and God, I was too weak when it came to him.

“Fine,” I relented, snatching the bottle from him. “But if I throw up, it’s your fault.”

He plopped down beside me, his shoulder brushing mine as he handed me a mismatched mug — clearly stolen from the kitchen downstairs. “Here, princess. First taste of freedom.”

I rolled my eyes again, but the nickname sent a jolt through me that I tried to ignore. I twisted open the bottle cap as I carefully poured a splash into the mug. “Is that enough?” I quietly asked, tipping the cup toward Nicholas so he could decide.

Nic squinted at the mug, a smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s adorable. You really think that little sip is going to do anything?” He leaned over, his bare shoulder from the sleeveless shirt he was wearing pressing into mine as he grabbed the bottle and poured a more generous amount. “There. Now it’s a real drink.”

I glared at him, the scent of the alcohol already making my stomach twist. “If this tastes like shit, I’m blaming you.”

“You can blame me all you want, baby,” he said with a grin, leaning back and raising his own glass. “Cheers.”

I hesitated, staring at the mug like it might explode in my hands. Nic nudged me gently, his warm breath brushing against my ear. “Come on. Don’t make me drink alone.”

Rolling my eyes, I lifted the mug and took a small sip. The taste hit me like a punch to the throat — bitter, sharp, and completely unpleasant. I coughed, my face scrunching up in disgust as Nic burst out laughing beside me.

“Oh, my God,” he said between chuckles, his hand slapping his thigh. “Your face! Priceless.”

“You’re such an asshole,” I muttered, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “This is disgusting. How do you even drink this?”

“Practice,” he said with a shrug, tipping his own glass back and taking a long sip. He didn’t even flinch. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Not sure I want to,” I muttered, setting the mug down on the floor beside me. “Seriously, why do people drink this? It’s awful.”

Nic grinned, leaning back against the headboard, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He looked so relaxed, so effortlessly cool, and it pissed me off just a little. “Because,” he said, swirling the liquid in his glass like he was some kind of expert, “it’s not about the taste. It’s about what comes after.”

“And what’s that? Regret?”

He laughed again, the sound warm and familiar, making my stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. “No, baby. It’s about the buzz. The way everything feels lighter, easier. Like nothing can touch you.”

I eyed him skeptically but couldn’t ignore the way his words tugged at something deep inside me. “Sounds like an excuse to make bad decisions.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his gaze sliding to mine, dark and playful. “But bad decisions can be fun, you know.”

With a sigh, I picked up the mug and took another sip, bracing myself for the burn. This time, it wasn’t as bad. Still awful, but not the immediate assault on my taste buds I’d been expecting. I set the mug down again, shaking my head. Nic smirked, his gaze lingering on me in a way that made my cheeks warm.

The night blurred after that. One sip turned into another, then another, until the bottle was half-empty and I was leaning against Nic’s shoulder, giggling at something that wasn’t even funny. Everything felt fuzzy, warm, like the edges of the world had softened.

“You’re so bad at this,” Nic said, his arm draped casually around my shoulders. His voice was low and teasing, but there was something else there, something softer. “Lightweight.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled, poking his side. “I’m not bad. You’re just… good at being an alcoholic.”

He laughed, the sound vibrating through me as he pulled me closer. “I’m not an alcoholic. I’m an enthusiast.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, but I couldn’t stop smiling. My head was spinning, and my cheeks hurt from laughing so much, but I didn’t care. This was fun. Being with him like this, it was always fun.

Nic shifted beside me, his fingers brushing against my shoulder as he turned to look at me. His expression had changed, his usual smirk replaced by something more serious. “You’re really fucking cute when you’re drunk, you know that?”

I stared at him, my pulse quickening as his words sank in. The room was warm, and the alcohol had done its job, leaving me feeling weightless and a little reckless. “Stop,” I muttered, though my voice lacked any real conviction.

“I’m not kidding,” Nic said, his hand moving to my knee, his fingers brushing against my bare skin. His touch sent a jolt through me, and I hated how much I wanted him to keep going. “You’re always cute, but like this? Goddamn.”

“Nic,” I started, but he was already leaning in, his lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was hungry. My heart raced as I kissed him back, the taste of whiskey still lingering on both our lips.

The kiss deepened, turning messy and heated as his hand slid up my thigh, pulling me closer. I let out a quiet moan, my fingers threading through his stringy hair as I shifted, straddling his lap. The feel of him beneath me, hard and wanting, sent a rush of heat through my body.

“You’re driving me crazy, baby,” he murmured against my lips, his hands gripping my hips. “I’ve been thinking about this all fucking week.”

“You’re drunk,” I teased, though my own words were slurred, my head spinning from the whiskey and the way he was looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

“Doesn’t mean I’m lying,” he shot back, his voice low and rough. His hands slid under my shirt, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of my waist as he pushed the fabric higher. “Take this off.”

I obeyed without thinking, pulling the shirt over my head and tossing it to the floor. His eyes darkened as they roamed over me, his hands moving to cup my bare breasts. “Fuck,” he muttered, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, sending a shiver down my spine. 

“Nic,” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders as his mouth moved to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin before he kissed his way down to my chest.

“You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about?” he asked, his voice muffled against my skin. His hands moved to the waistband of my shorts, tugging them down along with my underwear in one swift motion. “This.” He shifted, laying back against the pillows and pulling me with him. “Come here,” he said, his hands guiding me until I was hovering over his face. My heart pounded, the mix of nerves and anticipation making my head spin.

“Nic, what are you—” I started, but his hands gripped my hips firmly, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

“Trust me,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Let me have you like this.”

The way he looked at me, the hunger and heat in his gaze, made it impossible to argue. My breath caught as his hands guided me down, my thighs trembling as they settled on either side of his face.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his fingers digging into my hips as he pulled me closer. And then his mouth was on me, hot and demanding, and the world tilted on its axis.

I gasped, my fingers curling into his hair for balance as his tongue moved against me with an intensity that made my head spin. The sensation was overwhelming, his stubble scratching against my thighs as he held me in place, his grip possessive and unrelenting.

“Nic,” I whimpered, my voice breaking as his tongue found a rhythm that had me arching against him, my body trembling under his touch. The alcohol in my system made everything feel heightened, every brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue sending sparks of heat racing through me.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he murmured, his voice muffled but no less desperate. “You always do.”

His hands slid up to my waist, holding me steady as I began to rock against him, my movements uncoordinated and fueled by pure instinct. The feeling was almost too much, the pressure building low in my stomach with every stroke of his tongue. I leaned forward, bracing myself on the headboard as I chased the release that was just out of reach.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice low and thick. “Use me. Take what you need.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, the heat pooling between my legs growing unbearable. I moved faster, my breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as the pleasure built to a fever pitch.

“Nic, I—” My voice broke, my body trembling as the tension snapped, a wave of pleasure crashing over me so intensely it left me shaking. He didn’t stop, his mouth and hands guiding me through every aftershock until I was too sensitive to move.

When I finally sat limp over him, he guided me down, his lips pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against my thighs as I tried to catch my breath. “You’re fucking amazing,” he muttered, his voice low and raspy as he pulled me closer, his hands sliding up my back.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, my face buried in his chest as the aftershocks rippled through me. My heart was racing, my skin flushed and damp, but he just chuckled, his hands tracing lazy circles along my spine.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice softer now, almost tender. He tilted my chin up, his dark eyes meeting mine. “You’re perfect.”

I fell beside him, my body still trembling, he looked at me with a smug grin, his mouth and nose glistening. “That good enough for you?” he teased, his voice rough, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“Shut up,” I muttered, my cheeks burning, but I couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at my lips.

Nic chuckled, leaning over to kiss me, his mouth hot and insistent, and I could taste myself on his lips. His hands roamed my body, reigniting the fire that had barely subsided as he pressed me back against the pillows.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

I shivered, my pulse quickening as I looked up at him, his hair messy, his chest heaving, and his dark eyes fixed on me like I was the only thing that mattered. The tension crackled between us, the air heavy with the smell of sweat and alcohol and the undeniable pull of desire.

“Then show me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but he heard me.

And he did.

Nic didn’t hesitate, his lips crashing into mine as he hovered over me, his body pressing me into the mattress. His hands roamed my skin, rough and desperate, like he couldn’t get enough of me. He bit my lower lip gently before kissing down my neck, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. My heart pounded in my chest, the mixture of lust and whiskey making everything more intense, more raw.

“You drive me fucking insane, you know that?” he muttered, his voice muffled against my skin. His teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I gasped, arching into him.

“Nic—” His name slipped out in a breathless moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders as his hand slid between us, teasing, testing. I was already slick and ready for him, and the groan that rumbled from his chest made my stomach clench.

“You’re so wet,” he said, his voice a mix of awe and need.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t form a coherent response as he pushed his fingers inside me, his movements slow and deliberate. My hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more, and he obliged, curling his fingers just right. I gasped, my back arching as he leaned down to capture my lips in a messy, heated kiss.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and commanding. His dark eyes bored into mine, filled with lust and something deeper that I couldn’t name.

“You,” I said, my voice trembling but certain.

His smirk was equal parts cocky and devastatingly sexy. “Then take me,” he said, pulling back just enough to shed the last of his clothes. His body was all sharp lines and hard muscle, and the way he looked at me — like I was the only thing he needed — made my breath hitch.

He settled back against the pillows, his hands on my thighs as he pulled me on top of him. “Ride me, baby,” he said, his voice rough and full of heat. “I wanna watch you.” Before I could respond, he kissed me, slow and deep, his hands sliding down to cup my ass as he pulled me against him. I could feel him, hard and ready beneath me.

My cheeks burned, but the alcohol buzzing through my veins gave me the confidence to do as he said. I sank down onto him slowly, both of us moaning as he filled me completely. The stretch was perfect, the burn grounding me as I adjusted to the feeling of him inside me.

“Goddamn, (Y/N),” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips tightly. “You feel so fucking good, baby. Every time. You feel like heaven.”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. My hands braced against his chest as I moved, slow at first, then faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through me with every roll of my hips. His hands roamed my body, his fingers digging into my skin as he guided my movements, his eyes never leaving mine.

The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending on fire as I rolled my hips, drawing moans from both of us. Nic’s head fell back against the pillows, his eyes dark and hooded as he watched me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his hands sliding up my sides to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. “I could watch you like this all night.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I leaned forward, my hands braced on his chest as I quickened my pace. The angle made him hit deeper, and I cried out, my nails digging into his skin.

“God, Nic—” I couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t do anything but lose myself in him, in the way he felt, the way he looked at me like I was his entire world.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice tight as his hands gripped my hips, meeting my movements with his own. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

The tension coiled tighter and tighter, and I knew I was close. “I—Nic, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice firm but full of heat. “Come on, baby. Let go.”

His words pushed me over the edge, my body tensing as pleasure crashed over me in waves. I cried out his name, my nails raking down his chest as I came undone. He followed moments later, his grip on me tightening as he thrust up into me one last time, his groan low and guttural.

For a moment, neither of us moved, our bodies tangled and slick with sweat, our breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. Then Nic pulled me down to lie against his chest, his arms wrapping around me as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“Bad decision, huh?” He asked with a lazy grin.

I let out a breathless laugh, my cheek pressed against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. “The worst.”

“Good,” Nic tilted my chin up with his fingers, his dark eyes locking onto mine, still soft with lingering warmth and satiation, “I like being your worst decision.”

The sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel snapped me out of my thoughts. My heart leapt into my throat, and I pressed myself closer to the wall, willing whoever it was to pass by without noticing me. But then I heard his voice.

“(Y/N)?”

I closed my eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Of course, it was him.

The footsteps grew louder until Nicholas appeared around the corner, his tall frame backlit by the faint glow of the pool lights. His dark eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice low but not unkind.

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the neck of the wine bottle I still held. “Just thinking,” I said quietly, my voice steadier than I expected. “What are you doing out here?”

Nic stepped closer, his gaze flicking to the bottle in my hand before meeting my eyes again. “Looking for you,” he admitted, his tone softer now. “You left dinner pretty fast.”

“Not much of a coffee person,” I said, forcing a wry smile. My heart was racing, and I hated how easily he could unsettle me just by standing there.

He took another step closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I replied, my defenses snapping into place. I turned away from him, leaning against the wall and taking another sip from the bottle. The wine was still terrible, but it gave me something to focus on that wasn’t him.

Nic took a step closer, closing the distance between us until he was standing right in front of me. “Something happened at dinner. Talk to me,” he said softly, his hand reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. His touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver through me all the same.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his touch lingered like a brand on my skin. “Nothing happened,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. I turned my face away, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Bullshit,” Nic said, his voice dropping lower, rougher. He stepped closer, his body just inches from mine. “I know you, baby. You don’t just disappear like that for no reason.”

The nickname cut through me like a knife, and I hated how it made my heart clench despite everything. “I told you not to call me that,” I muttered, my voice trembling slightly as I pushed away from the wall. I couldn’t stay still, couldn’t let him corner me like this.

His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking as he exhaled sharply. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I just—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair as he looked away, his frustration evident.

“You just what?” I asked, my voice rising slightly. The wine was making me bold, and I hated how much I wanted an answer. “Why did you come out here, Nic? Why do you keep cornering me? What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know!” he snapped, his voice rough with emotion. He took a step back, his hands raking through his hair again as he paced. “Fuck, (Y/N), I don’t know. I just… I saw you leave, and I couldn’t stay in there knowing you were out here alone.”

I stared at him, his words settling heavily between us. He stopped pacing, turning to face me again, his dark eyes filled with something I couldn’t name.

“I miss you,” he said finally, his voice soft but filled with a raw honesty that made my chest ache. “I know I shouldn’t say it, but I do. And seeing you again, seeing you like this… it’s fucking killing me.”

My breath caught, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. The weight of his words, the way he was looking at me — it was too much, and not enough all at once. He was jeopardizing his life over something he didn’t know… that’s killing me.

I gripped the bottle tighter, using it to anchor myself as his words settled like a storm in my chest. My pulse raced, my thoughts a chaotic tangle of anger, longing, and the memories I’d been trying so hard to suppress.

“You’re fucking killing me, too,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered, and I hated the way my voice cracked. “Do you think this is easy for me? Seeing you, hearing you say things like that, when you—” My voice broke, and I shook my head, swallowing hard. “You don’t get to miss me, Nic. You don’t get to do this.”

His expression shifted, the vulnerability giving way to something darker, sharper. “Why not?” he asked, stepping closer, his voice low and intense. “Why the fuck not? You think I wanted this? To be here with all this shit between us?”

“You chose this!” I snapped, my voice rising. “You chose this, Nic. You chose her, you chose your life, your future, and now you want to act like you didn’t? Like it wasn’t a choice?”

He flinched like I’d slapped him, but he didn’t back down. “I didn’t choose her,” he said, shaking his head. “I—“ his voice cracked. “I wanted to break up with her; I didn’t like being with her. Next thing I know, she’s pregnant, and I didn’t want to be someone who ran away like a coward, so…” he trailed off.

“…so you stayed,” I finished for him, my voice trembling with anger and something deeper, something raw and aching. “You stayed because it was the right thing to do. And that’s great, Nic. That’s really noble of you. But don’t come here, looking at me like this, saying things like that, and act like I’m the one who doesn’t get it.”

He stared at me, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You think I don’t know how fucked up this is?” he said, his voice low and rough. “You think I don’t hate myself for this? For hurting you? For—”

“Stop,” I interrupted, my voice sharp. “Don’t. Don’t say it.”

His mouth snapped shut, his chest heaving as he stared at me. The silence between us was thick and suffocating, filled with all the things we weren’t saying.

I turned away, pacing a few steps to put some distance between us. The cool night air bit at my skin, but it did nothing to quell the heat coursing through me, the anger and the longing and the sheer exhaustion of feeling everything all at once.

“You don’t get to come back into my life and act like you still have a place here,” I said, my back to him. “You don’t get to miss me. You don’t get to look at me like you—”

“Like I what?” he cut in, his voice rising as he stepped closer. “Like I still love you?”

I froze, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. My breath caught, my pulse pounding in my ears as I turned to face him. “You don’t mean that,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t mean that.”

His dark eyes burned into mine, raw and unguarded in a way I hadn’t seen in years. “I mean every fucking word,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I’ve tried to stop. God, (Y/N), I’ve tried. But I can’t. I love you, and it’s fucking killing me because I know I don’t deserve you. I know I  fucked everything up back then. But I can’t—” His voice broke, and he looked away, his hands raking through his hair. “I can’t stop.”

The air between us felt heavy, charged with the weight of everything he’d just said. I wanted to scream at him, to hit him, to tell him how unfair it was for him to say these things when I’d spent years trying to move on, trying to forget the way he made me feel.

But more than that, I wanted to kiss him. To pull him close and let myself drown in the way he looked at me, the way he made me feel like the center of his universe even when I knew I shouldn’t be.

“You’re such an asshole,” I said finally, my voice shaking.

He let out a breathless laugh, his gaze snapping back to mine. “Yeah,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint, humorless smile. “I am. But I’m your asshole.”

I hated him for that. For the way he could still make me want him, even now, even when everything was so fucked up.

“You don’t get to say that,” I said, my voice trembling as I took a step closer, my chest heaving with the weight of everything I was feeling. “You don’t get to—”

But before I could finish, he closed the distance between us, his hands cupping my face as his lips crashed into mine.

It was messy and desperate and everything I’d been trying to resist since the moment I saw him again. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as my own hands fisted in his shirt, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me grounded.

“You’re killing me,” I whispered against his lips, my voice breaking as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

“I know,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. “But I can’t stop. I can’t stay away from you.”

I didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly his hands were on my waist, lifting me onto the edge of the low stone wall behind us. My legs wrapped around his hips instinctively, pulling him closer as his mouth trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“Nic,” I gasped, my fingers threading through his hair as he pressed kisses along my collarbone, his hands gripping my thighs tightly.

“I need you,” he said, his voice low and raw as he looked up at me, his dark eyes filled with a desperation that mirrored my own. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

“I—” The words caught in my throat, my breath shallow and ragged as I stared down at him. His face was inches from mine, his lips parted, his dark eyes filled with raw vulnerability that cut through every ounce of resistance I’d tried to muster. “I want you,” I whispered, the confession tumbling out before I could stop it.

The second the words left my mouth, his lips were on mine, hot and demanding, like he was trying to claim every unspoken feeling we’d ever shared. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him, and I gasped, my fingers fisting in his hair as his mouth moved to my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his breath hot against my collarbone as his hands slid under my shirt, his fingers grazing the bare skin of my waist. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but let myself get lost in him. My head tilted back, giving him access to my neck as his lips trailed down.

“This is so fucked up,” I breathed, my voice trembling as his mouth found the curve of my shoulder.

My hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel him, to erase the space between us. He shrugged it off, and my breath hitched at the sight of him, all sharp lines and smooth skin, his muscles flexing as he reached for me.

I hadn’t seen him like this since he was 20. His body was leaner back then, but now he was all hard lines and tension, every golden muscle defined with bulging veins. My hands moved instinctively, tracing the contours of his chest, the smooth expanse of his skin sending a rush of heat through me. He was huge, in every sense of the word. The sight of him now, so much older, broader, and undeniably magnetic, made my head spin. 25 looked amazing on him.

His hands were on my hips again, pulling me toward him as he kissed me with a raw, desperate hunger that made my knees weak. Every touch, every sound, every breath between us felt charged, like the culmination of years of tension finally snapping.

“I can’t believe I ever let you go,” Nicholas muttered against my lips, his voice low and rough.

He stilled for a moment, his eyes darting between both of mine as if he was convincing himself that this was really happening. He then crouched down to collect his shirt from the floor and wrapped his hands around my thighs, lifting me effortlessly and making his way to the door of the pool house.

The cool night air rushed over me as Nicholas carried me, his grip firm but careful, his shirt draped haphazardly over one of my legs. My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, my heart pounding so hard I could barely hear anything else. The faint sound of crickets in the distance mingled with the muffled hum of the estate behind us, but all I could focus on was him — the heat of his skin, the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers pressed into my thighs.

When he reached the door of the pool house, he nudged it open with his shoulder, stepping inside and kicking it shut behind him. The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the space. The scent of chlorine lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the heady musk of sweat and desire.

Nicholas set me down on the edge of the couch, his hands lingering on my hips as he knelt between my legs, his dark eyes meeting mine with a heat that sent a shiver down my spine.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” he said, his voice low and rough, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of my thighs. “How many times I’ve wished I could take it all back. Every mistake. Every second I wasted away from you.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening at the raw emotion in his voice. “Nic,” I started, but he cut me off with a kiss, his lips crashing into mine with a desperation that left me breathless.

“Don’t,” he murmured against my lips, his hands sliding up to cup my face. “Don’t say anything. Just let me—let me have this.”

I couldn’t argue, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but let him consume me. His hands roamed my body, rough and urgent, as though he was trying to memorize every inch of me. My own hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as his lips moved to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin and sending a jolt of electricity straight through me.

His hands slipped under my shirt, tugging it upward until I lifted my arms, letting him pull it over my head and toss it to the floor. His gaze raked over me, his breath hitching as his hands moved to the clasp of my bra. “God, you’re so perfect,” he said, his fingers trembling slightly as he unhooked it and slid the straps down my arms.

I gasped as the cool air hit my skin, followed by the heat of his mouth as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against the curve of my breast. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer as he kissed his way down, his tongue flicking over my nipple and drawing a quiet moan from my lips.

“Nic,” I whimpered, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he worked his way lower, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Nicholas’s hands gripped my hips firmly as his mouth continued its path downward, his lips and tongue leaving no inch of skin untouched. The heat between us was unbearable, a storm we could no longer hold back, and the weight of every unspoken word, every stolen glance, every moment of longing, exploded in this moment.

His fingers worked at the waistband of my shorts, his eyes locking onto mine as he tugged them down, taking my underwear with them. His eyes widened, almost as if he couldn’t believe the way I looked now. He hadn’t seen me like this since I was 18; I was 23 now. The years that had passed between us felt both like a lifetime and an instant as Nicholas’s gaze lingered on me.

His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling with the intensity of the moment. “Fuck, (Y/N),” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough, his hands trembling slightly as they slid up my thighs. “You’re even more beautiful now, baby.”

I swallowed hard, my chest rising and falling as his words washed over me. The way he looked at me — like he couldn’t believe I was real, like he couldn’t believe I was here — sent a rush of heat through me that had nothing to do with the alcohol still buzzing in my veins.

“You keep saying that,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“And I’ll say it again,” he murmured, leaning in to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss to my inner thigh. “Every chance I get.”

His hands slid higher, gripping my hips as his lips moved closer, the heat of his breath sending shivers up my spine. I reached down, tangling my fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. His dark eyes met mine, the raw hunger there making my stomach clench, his lips quirking into a smirk that was both cocky and devastatingly sexy.

And then his mouth was on me.

The first stroke of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through me so intense it made my toes curl. My head fell back against the cushions, a gasp escaping my lips as he worked me with a precision that left me breathless. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as his tongue teased and tasted, his stubble scratching against my skin in a way that only added to the fire coursing through me.

“Fuck, Nic,” I whimpered, my hands fisting in his hair as my hips bucked against his mouth.

His grip on my thighs tightened, pinning me firmly against the couch as he buried his face between my legs, his tongue moving with an urgency that made my entire body tremble. “Stay still,” he growled, his voice muffled but commanding. “Let me take care of you.”

The sound of his voice sent a fresh wave of heat through me, and I tried to obey, though every nerve in my body screamed for more. His tongue flicked over me in deliberate, agonizing strokes, his lips closing around the most sensitive part of me and sucking just hard enough to make my hips jerk.

“God, Nic, please,” I gasped, my voice high and breathless. I shook my head, curling my fingers around his short hair, “No. I need you inside me, Nic.”

Nicholas stilled for a moment, his dark eyes lifting to meet mine as his lips curled into a smirk, his chin and mouth glistening from his work. My chest was heaving, my body trembling under the weight of his gaze and the fire he’d already ignited within me.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through me as he pressed one last kiss to my thigh before sitting back on his heels. “Anything for you, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with heat.

Nicholas stood, his body towering over me as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it free in one swift motion. The clink of the metal and the soft rustle of fabric as he shucked off his slacks and boxers sent another rush of heat through me. My breath caught at the sight of him, every inch of him perfect, from the hard lines of his abs to the thighs the size of tree trunks to the sheer size of him, thick and ready.

“Goddamn, Nic,” I murmured, unable to tear my eyes away. He was beautiful, all sharp angles and raw power, and the way he looked at me, like he was about to devour me, made my pulse race.

“Eyes up here, baby,” he said, his tone laced with amusement as he stepped closer, gripping my thighs and pulling me to the edge of the couch.

My cheeks burned, but I met his gaze, the intensity in his dark eyes making it impossible to look away. He leaned down, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss as he positioned himself at my entrance. The heat of him against me sent a shiver down my spine, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. My hands cupped his face as I pulled him in for another kiss.

With one smooth thrust, he pushed inside me, filling me completely. I cried out, my head falling back as he stilled, giving me a moment to adjust. The stretch was perfect, just as it was all those years ago.

“Fuck, you’re better than heaven, baby,” he groaned, his forehead resting against mine as his hands gripped my hips. “Even better than I remember.”

I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders as I tried to catch my breath. “Fuck me,” I demanded, my voice shaky but firm. “Please, Nic. I need you to fuck me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hips pulled back before thrusting forward again, setting a rhythm that was slow and deliberate at first, every movement calculated to drive me insane. But as the tension between us built, his pace quickened, his thrusts growing rougher, deeper, until the sound of our bodies colliding echoed through the room.

“(Y/N),” he growled, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I was sure there would be bruises. “I was made for you, baby. Nobody else. Just you.”

The words sent a shiver down my spine, the raw intensity in his voice carving through every thought, every inhibition I had left. “Just me,” I whispered, my nails raking down his back as I clung to him, my body arching to meet each of his thrusts. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his back as I let myself drown in him — the way he filled me, the way he consumed me, the way he owned me.

“Say it,” Nicholas demanded, his lips brushing against my ear as he buried himself inside me again, deeper this time, the stretch and fullness stealing the air from my lungs. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I gasped, the confession tumbling from my lips before I could stop it. The truth of it, the undeniable gravity of what he meant to me, hit me like a tidal wave, leaving me raw and exposed. “Always yours.”

“Shit,” he growled, his movements growing erratic as he pulled me impossibly closer, his hands gripping my thighs like he was afraid I’d disappear. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby. You’re in my fucking blood.”

I gasped, my voice trembling as he shifted, lifting one of my legs over his shoulder to hit even deeper. The angle made me cry out, my nails raking down his back as he pounded into me with a desperation that matched my own. “Oh, my God, right there—fuck, don’t stop!”

“Not a chance, baby,” he growled, his voice rough and full of promise. His dark eyes locked onto mine, his gaze so intense it made my head spin. “You’re mine, (Y/N). Always have been. Always fucking will be.”

My head fell back, a moan ripping from my throat as he hit a spot inside me that sent stars exploding behind my eyes. The tension in my stomach coiled tighter, every nerve ending on fire as he drove me closer and closer to the edge. 

“I’m so close,” I whimpered, my voice breaking as I clawed at his shoulders, desperate for release. “Nic, I—”

“Let go,” he urged, his voice low and commanding, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Come for me, baby. I wanna feel you.”

The way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered, sent me spiraling. The tension snapped, pleasure crashing over me in waves so intense I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but scream his name. My body trembled, every muscle tightening as the orgasm ripped through me, leaving me raw and undone.

“Jesus Christ,” Nicholas groaned, his grip on me tightening as my walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper. He thrust into me once, twice more, before his own release hit, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as he spilled inside me, filling me completely until it dripped and pooled around us.

The room fell silent except for the sound of our ragged breathing and the hum of the pool filter just outside, the heat of our bodies mingling as we clung to each other in the aftermath. Nicholas didn’t move, his arms wrapped tightly around me as though letting go wasn’t an option. My heart was pounding, each beat echoing in my ears as the weight of what just happened started to settle over me.

He pressed his forehead against mine, his breath still uneven as he whispered, “Fuck, (Y/N)… You wreck me.”

I let out a shaky laugh, my fingers tracing the muscles in his back, slick with sweat. “I think we just wrecked each other.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, vibrating through his chest. “I missed this,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “I missed you.”

My chest tightened at the raw honesty in his words, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. The truth was, I’d missed him too — every part of him, every look, every touch. But I wasn’t sure how to say that without unraveling completely.

Instead, I let my fingers trail up to his face, cupping his jaw as I tilted his head so I could meet his gaze. His dark brown eyes searched mine, the intensity there enough to make my pulse quicken all over again. “This can’t happen again,” I whispered, though even as the words left my mouth, I knew they weren’t true.

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. But then he leaned down, brushing his lips against mine in a kiss so tender it made my heart ache. “We both know that’s a lie,” he murmured against my lips, his hands sliding up my sides to cradle me against him. “Because the second I get another chance, I’m taking it.”

“Nic—” I started, but he silenced me with another kiss, this one deeper, hungrier, reigniting the fire between us.

“Let me stay here with you,” he murmured, his lips moving against mine as his hands explored my body again. “Just for tonight. No bullshit. No reality. Just us.”

His sincerity made my heart clench, but that obviously couldn’t happen. I cupped my hand in his face and kissed the apple of his cheek, “As much as I want to, you know I can’t. My mom is back in there drinking coffee with your mom and your fiancée. They’ll all know something’s going on.”

Nicholas let out a frustrated sigh, his forehead falling to rest against mine. His breath was warm, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my back as though he was trying to memorize me in the short time we had left.

“I know,” he muttered, his voice rough with emotion. “I hate that I can’t just keep you here. That I can’t—” He broke off, his hands tightening on my waist.

I smiled weakly, brushing my thumb across his cheek. “I don’t like it either.”

He leaned into my touch for a fleeting moment before stepping back, his hands trailing down my sides as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go. The loss of his warmth made my chest ache, but I forced myself to focus on the bigger picture. On the consequences.

Nicholas raked a hand through his messy hair, his fingers tugging at the strands in frustration. “This isn’t over,” he said finally, his voice firm despite the heaviness in the room. “You and me, baby. We’re not over.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight as I nodded. “I know.”

His lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile, and for a moment, we just stood there, the air between us charged with everything we couldn’t say. Finally, Nicholas reached for his discarded shirt, pulling it on with a kind of resignation that made my chest tighten all over again.

“I’ll go out first,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “You wait a few minutes, then head back.”

I nodded, watching as he buttoned his shirt and slipped into his briefs and slacks with steady hands, though his dark eyes kept flicking back to me like he couldn’t quite look away. When he was finished, he paused, his fingers lingering on the zipper as he took a deep breath.

“(Y/N),” he said, his voice soft but insistent.

I looked up at him, my heart pounding as his gaze locked onto mine.

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping closer and cupping my face in his hands. “This isn’t the end. I don’t care how fucked up everything is right now — I’ll figure it out. I’ll fix it. Just… don’t give up on me. On us.”

I blinked, the weight of his words settling heavily in my chest. “Nic…”

“Promise me,” he urged, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks. “Promise me you won’t give up.”

I hesitated for only a moment before nodding, my voice barely a whisper. “I promise.”

The relief that washed over his face was almost enough to break me, but before I could dwell on it, he leaned down, pressing one last kiss to my lips. It was slow and lingering, filled with a desperation that made my heart ache.

When he pulled away, his dark eyes lingered on mine for a beat longer before he turned and walked to the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, glancing back at me one last time.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, his voice low and full of promise.

And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him and leaving me alone with the echoes of his words and the weight of what we’d just done.

The silence of the pool house pressed down on me like a heavy blanket, the faint hum of the pool filter outside the only sound breaking through the quiet. My legs felt weak, my body trembling as I stood there, staring at the door he’d just walked through.

The faint scent of him lingered in the room — woodsy cologne mixed with sweat and desire — and it wrapped around me, pulling me back into the moment we’d just shared. I shook my head, trying to clear it, to push the memory to the back of my mind.

I pulled on my discarded clothes with shaking hands, the fabric sticking to my damp skin. Each movement felt heavier, slower, like my body was resisting the return to reality. My fingers fumbled with the zipper of my uniform, and I let out a frustrated sigh, finally managing to pull it up.

I closed my eyes, my head falling into my hands as a wave of guilt and longing washed over me. I shouldn’t have promised him anything. I shouldn’t have let him kiss me, touch me, pull me back into his orbit. But God help me, I didn’t know how to resist him. I never had.

The sound of laughter drifted in from the main house, sharp and distant, a reminder of the world waiting for me beyond the walls of the pool house. I needed to pull myself together, to put on a brave face and pretend like nothing had happened.

Rising to my feet, I adjusted my clothes, smoothing down my dress and running my fingers through my hair in a half-hearted attempt to fix the damage. My reflection in the glass of the pool house door caught my eye, and I froze, staring at the woman looking back at me.

She looked like a stranger — her cheeks flushed, her eyes too bright, her lips swollen from kisses that shouldn’t have happened. A part of me hated her for being so weak, so reckless. But another part, a quieter, more dangerous part, understood her too well. She was me. And no matter how much I wanted to deny it, I wasn’t done with Nicholas Chavez. Not yet.

I sighed, forcing my gaze away from the reflection and toward the glowing lights of the main house in the distance. Each step back felt heavier than the last, the weight of my choices pressing down on me like a lead blanket.

When I reached the patio, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses grew louder, the warm glow of the house spilling out into the cool night. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the handle of the French door, my heart pounding in my chest. I can do this.

I inhaled deeply, steadying myself before pushing the door open. The hum of conversation greeted me, a stark contrast to the silence of the pool house. I slipped inside, my head down, hoping to blend into the crowd unnoticed.

“(Y/N)!” My mother’s voice rang out, bright and cheery. “There you are, sweetie. We were just about to send Paolo to look for you.”

I plastered on a smile, forcing my voice to sound steady as I replied, “Just needed some air. Ready to go home?”

My mom tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she scanned my face. “You’ve been outside all this time? You’re flushed, honey.”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, brushing a stray hair out of my face. “It’s just the wine. And maybe the fireplace — it’s blazing in here.”

She didn’t look convinced, but before she could press the issue, Paolo chimed in. “We’re all ready when you are, cara mia.” His warm smile felt like a lifeline, grounding me in the present. “Maria’s already gathering her things.”

“Perfect,” I said, returning his smile, though it felt thin, strained. I turned toward the lounge, catching sight of Maria chatting animatedly with one of the other guests. She glanced up as I approached, her eyes brightening.

“Are we leaving?” Maria asked, her expression shifting into a polite but eager readiness. “I think I’ve charmed enough people for one evening.”

I laughed lightly, nodding. “Let’s head out before they ask for your secrets.”

As we moved toward the door, I felt Nicholas’s gaze on me before I saw him. He was standing near his fiancée as she spoke to another guest, his arms carefully clasped behind him as if he didn’t want to touch her, as if I spoiled him from ever wanting to touch her again, even to keep up appearances.

His dark eyes tracked my every movement, a storm brewing beneath the surface that only I could see. My chest tightened, and I forced myself to look away, focusing on the cool night air beckoning just beyond the door.

“Let me get the car,” Paolo said, his hand brushing lightly against my arm. His tone was warm and reassuring, grounding me in a way I desperately needed.

Maria and my mom moved ahead, chatting softly as they walked out onto the driveway. I lingered just inside the door, caught in the magnetic pull of Nicholas’s gaze.

I glanced back, my resolve weakening as our eyes locked again. He wasn’t trying to hide it anymore — the longing, the frustration, the unspoken words that hung heavy between us. It was written all over his face, plain as day. His fiancée turned slightly, her hand brushing his arm as she laughed at something the older man beside her said. Nicholas didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as glance at her.

All of him was focused on me.

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening as I turned and followed my mom and Maria outside. The night air hit me like a slap, cool and sharp against my flushed skin. I could hear the low rumble of Paolo’s car engine as it pulled up to the curb.

“Come on, sweetheart,” my mom called, her voice cutting through the haze of emotions clouding my mind. 

I forced a smile, slipping into the backseat beside her. Maria climbed into the passenger seat, her laughter carrying over as Paolo started the car. I leaned my head back against the seat, staring out the window as the estate grew smaller and smaller behind us.

But no matter how far we drove, I couldn’t shake the weight of Nicholas’s gaze, the echo of his voice, or the promise lingering in the air between us.

[natamouche-art]

some favourite shots I did for episode 6... it was so fun crafting the final bridge scene from Travis' script, and seriously all the credit for the amazing opening seq goes to our EP Aaron for taking the emotion in Yaz's exposure therapy to the next level!

Inspo for this ep mainly came from the Alebrijes attack and car chase boards from the Coco blu-ray deleted scenes. Seriously yall, if you're an aspiring board artist, go watch those, they're all masterclasses in camera, framing, and acting.

Some thoughts below about these boards if yall are interested...

Becklespinaxes - there was a LOT of research that went into becklespinaxes (aka altispinaxes) to make this bridge scene happen. In the original script, there was the idea that Blondie (the yellow becklespinax) would be ramming and spinning the side of the van all over the bridge from the beginning, all while ben was still driving forward and Sammy was trying to climb the side latter of the van and into Yaz's window. - I think in writing it made for a really rad scene, but there were some concerns that the physics of all of that, as well as some staging issues, so I dove into becklespinax research to see if some of these problems could be fixed by grounding the conflict in the dino's hunting/attack styles - From what I can remember, as a mid-sized theropod, the becklespinax would've hunted small sauropods and the like, not van-sized dinos, so having her ramming the side of the van was out. Instead, I theorized the becklespinax would more likely be interested in rooting out the tastey treats inside, like a bird fishing out grubs from inside a tree or log. Thus, Blondie jamming her head into the window was born - From there on I tried to keep the van-and-dino physics and behaviours as grounded as possible, but i'll be the first to admit that physics was never my strong suit and sometimes the plot's just gotta come first over science

One detail I loved that unfortunately seemed to get passed over in animation was the way the second becklespinax, Brownie, entered the shot from behind the camera, and covered up the "NOW LEAVING DINOSAUR FREE ZONE" to just be "NOW DINOSAUR ZONE". Corny, I know! But it felt right and I was heartbroken to see that it wasn't caught in time to be able to go back and change it

Also no heart by sammy's name on yaz's phone :( idk why, sorry gang

About boards, an interesting thing to keep in mind was that even though this bridge may seem like a pretty isolated and simple set, there were actually several moments/shots that I didn't end up using because they revealed too much of the background, specifically the exterior island set and the exterior mainland sets that connected to the bridge! That's right, in the actual set models, those parts are just the cliff ledges and a bit on the sides, everything else would have to be what's called a paintover. That's something for aspiring storyboard artists to keep in mind about working on 3D TV shows: the sets come before storyboards in the pipeline, so often you have to make what you want to do work to the set, and not the other way around like in feature!

[arvlelt]

not just an agreement.

pairing - jinx x fem!reader

cw - suggestive, teasing, jinx calls reader sweetcheeks and sweetheart (it suits her sm idk leave me alone), flirting, fluff(?), intimacy, yearning(?), making out, jinx is handsy and bold w reader, reader is a lil shy, def got a little carried away w the plot, oopsies

request from anonymous - Hiiii! I have a reqest for a Jinx X fem mechanic reader? a more romantic/suggestive plot, with the mechanic maybe helping Jinx with some weapon upgrades and they're flirting back and forth

w. count - 2.1k+

a/n - i acc really like this, lmk your thoughts! kinda proofread but lmk if theres anything wrong:))

at first it was just an agreement between you and silco.

he was concerned about the amount of time jinx was spending alone, and figured she needed a companion. preferably someone with the same interests and talents as jinx herself, since she could be a little picky about the people she surrounds herself with.

she had a little reputation of hurting her companions in the past because of her hallucinations, and even when she didn't have them -- she just loved messing with 'em.

this was in retaliation, insisting that she was better off alone.

reason being, silco was a bit hesitant in trying to find her a companion again but knew she needed it.

but all that hesitancy faded the minute he had met you.

there was a lineup of people that were waiting to see if silco would hire them.

word got out that silco needed a mechanic, and people started lining up immediately.

they had met up at his hideout, everyone that volunteered would be blindfolded and taken by one of his minions to not give away his place.

while some were hoping the position would get them more shimmer or more power and recognition in the undercity, you just wanted to make weapons or fix things.

you were hoping you could do more -- go beyond with whatever supplies he had. you were sure he had to have good shit, considering he and his partner made shimmer.

he could see the slight glimmer in your eyes that interested him.

"this one."

his thick voice echoed throughout the walls, his men following protocol and leading the other people out. which they showed disappointed as they walked out with slumped shoulders.

you were a bit shocked, looking around before your eyes landed on silco in his chair again, "what's your name?"

"y/n," you replied, taking another glance around the place. you had never seen so many of these things in one place at once - and with no damage done to them.

silco stood up from his chair and walked over to what had caught your eye.

"well, y/n. truth is..." uh oh.

your mind immediately went to worst case scenario. maybe you should of thought this through, considering you were trying to work for silco, of all people.

silco seemed to sense your sudden alertness and gave a slight chuckle, "don't worry. i'm not going to hurt you," that seemed to ease you up a bit as you took two weary steps away from him... just in case.

silco gave a smirk as he sat back down in the chair to make you feel a bit better, "smart one you are. but, truth is... you're not going to just be a mechanic for me. you're going to be a... companion to my daughter, jinx. in return, you'll get special benefits - allowance and a place of your own."

you felt your heart drop to your ass.

what?

companion? daughter? jinx?

that's what the arrangement was at first. you were weary at first because of the things you had heard about her, but as time passed and you got more comfortable with jinx, you didn't really need the 'special benefits' anymore.

you especially gave those up after jinx had found out about your little 'deal,' as jinx had called it, and nearly went on a rampage with her 'pow pow' machine gun.

the only thing that really became a non-negotiable was lending a place to sleep.

....as silco may or may have not grown a soft spot for you as well.

"...hey! you still here with me?" jinx waved her hands in your face, helping you out of the little memory you were remembering, wondering where you would've been if you hadn't volunteered.

you were sitting on a chair, with jinx standing as she messed with her trinkets, your head resting on your arm that rested on her little desk she had.

you shook your head slightly, "no, sorry. i was just thinking, what were you saying?" you stood up, showing more interest in whatever she was doing.

you were helping her figure out how she could power up one her new little trinkets that she had created.

jinx put a hand on her hip, "awh c'mon, you mean you didn't hear my entire rant of how i discovered this to wooorkk?" she dramatized as she started walking in little circles.

you gave a slight laugh, sitting on her desk, putting one hand on her desk and tilting your head on your shoulder a bit, "awh, c'mon, you can't repeat yourself? i wanna know what you had to say," your tone was teasing as you copied her words.

and god jinx had a love/hate relationship with the way it made her stomach flutter.

you always knew how to unconsciously reassure her.

jinx stopped her circles with her back turned to you before she swiftly turned around, using her shimmer to suddenly appear right in your face before you could register she even turned around.

something you learned early on with jinx, she didn't know personal space at all - at least not with you.

in the last couple months that you were working for silco, yes you were making him weapons, but you started to take a liking to jinx.

and unbeknownst to you, jinx was starting to take a liking to you too.

jinx gave a slight smirk at the way you backed up on the desk, your ass on it slightly, both of your hands came behind you to lay flat on the desk.

in the time that you two spent together, you both learned plenty about the other. while you learned that jinx needed more reassurance than others and things of the sorts, jinx was observant of the way you'd get nervous whenever she got close to you.

of course she learned other things about you but she was fixated on how you'd act when she would get a little too close to you.

no matter if it was to observe whatever weapon you were fixing or making - or to just mess with you - she'd see the way you suddenly get quiet and stammer on your words a bit.

and you suddenly felt how close she was to you, her body wasn't pressed up against you, but your bodies would graze one another ever so frequently.

in a way that had you both breathing a little heavier, both of you looking at each other's lips.

jinx suddenly leaned in more with a tilt of her head, making you lean more back, your entire ass almost nearly on the desk.

her hands went on her desk behind you, enclosing you against her.

she had a such an evil grin on her face - she knew what she was doing - as she began speaking and telling you again what she discovered.

"...so i basically figured out that, to make this go boom! i need to get that 'ol gemstone i have in my gun to make it explode..." she trailed off as she noticed you were staring very heavily at her lips.

not even noticing her hand inching closer and closer towards your hip that rested on her desk.

your eyes widened slightly when you felt her take another step closer, making your legs part and practically forcing you to sit on the desk properly.

"whatcha' lookin' at, sweetcheeks?"

you felt speechless.

you weren't going to deny the recent tension you had felt with jinx recently, in the last two months. but you never thought you'd end up in this position with her.

you thought back. the fleeting touches, the way she'd look at you when she was explaining something, the way she would make excuses to get close to you, always wanting touching you.

it all started when you two had decided to have a sleepover.

you were supposed to have gone back to your place hours ago, but jinx had told you she felt lonely and she wanted you to stay the night.

at first, it was just like helping a friend, it was something harmless.

'you were only helping a friend out,' you'd try to convince yourself in your head.

at least you thought.

you two were giggling like fools as you painted poorly done portraits of one another on a time limit.

you both sat on opposite sides of each other, a box holding up the canvas's.

jinx had her tongue out in fake concentration as she rushed through it, eyes flickering to the timer every now and then.

"3...! 2...! 1...!" jinx counted down and once you heard buzzer go off, you put your brush down and put your hands up.

you laughed as you looked at jinx and then the portrait, paint-covered hands coming up to your mouth to cover it, folding over your stomach in your seat at how ridiculous yours looked.

jinx put her hands on her lap, "it can't be that bad, lemme see!" she reached over and grabbed your canvas.

she barely gave it a glance before she set it back down, "... moving on, look at mine! i think i did, pretty good," she turned it around, leaning on it slightly and looked at her hands like she just accomplished something, blowing her hands for affect.

and honestly she hadn't.

it was probably just as bad as yours.

that innocent face portrait, turned into finger-painting the little hut you created for her - to decorate it.

a comfortable silence between you two, and it was a rare moment where everything in jinx's head was quiet.

jinx was on the other side of the hut, looking at you decorate it before looking back at what she was doing.

"is it okay if i paint something on ya?" she said it so casually you thought you misheard her.

"huh? what?" you asked her with furrowed eyebrows.

jinx chuckled, "can i paint something on you? you don't have to say yes, you just look... like you'd make a good canvas," and lord have mercy, did that make your legs wanna give out.

you gulped, swallowing hard at the feeling of your throat going dry at her words, "yeah, sure. uh- how do you want me to sit?"

you began busying yourself with moving some things around so you two had space on her floor where her blankets and pillows were.

"just lay down for me and i'll take care of it, 'kay?" jinx began grabbing the paint and brushes she needed.

she ended up painting a very pretty floral design on your shoulder that went all the way down to your wrist.

and maybe got a little distracted and drew little doodles on your stomach once you fell asleep, the brush strokes lulling you to sleep.

the whole thing was quite intimate, and after that happened., something was different between you.

you weren't sure if it was just you that felt it, you were sure you were the only one until she started doing things that had you thinking otherwise.

like now, how you're so tempted to lean in and kiss her, just let her hands roam your body. her eyes were very obviously looking down between your eyes and lips.

she gave a slight huff of amusement, "knew you didn't have it in you, sweetheart," she had a slight smirk as she backed up, walking away, feeling a sense of victory at how tongue tied she had you.

that was basically all you had to know as you suddenly walked up to her and grabbed her by the shoulder, turning her around and grabbing her face and connecting your lips with hers.

jinx let out a slight moan at the sudden feeling, not hesitating to close her eyes and put one hand on your hip and the other on your waist, she pulled you into her.

you loved the way her lips felt on yours - the way she would slightly open her mouth to mold hers with yours felt so euphoric.

at first it was slow as you took slow steps back as you felt one of her hands wandering down to your ass, grabbing the fat of it and giving it a light squeeze.

you let out a slight noise against her lips when feeling her back you up more and having her hands trail under your shirt to your lower back, "mm,"

you could feel her smile against your lips at your reaction.

and before she could put you against her desk once more-

"jinx!"

you both pulled away with flushed faces, looking in the direction of where the voice came from.

silco was calling for her again.

jinx looked back at you with a grin, hands coming up to your waist and giving it a slight squeeze before letting you go, "and for the record, i do have it in me."

you watched as jinx got her gun and gave you a little chuckle, watching as she walked down her ramp, "oh, is that what that was? tryna prove a point, even though you get all nervous when i get too close to you, sweetcheeks?" her voice faded as she walked off to go and see what silco wanted, braids swaying in a way that had you entranced with the way she walked.

you huffed but couldn't stop the smile from making it's way to your face.

you didn't know what the hell this was, but it was not just an agreement anymore.

[auclairedetoru]

May I request Levi crushing on a stranger he saw in the coffeeshop? (Idk if you accept nsfw requests but if you do, with wet dream pls)

Hi first nonnie~ thank you so much for sending in a request! I'm not comfortable with writing detailed nsfw, but I'll try my best to deliver your vision 🤍

⭒๋࣭ ⭑. Content warning : mention of wet dreams so MDNI!!

“fuck...” Levi mumbles to himself after he wakes up from another... Strange dream, hands wiping the sweat from his face as he tried to catch his breath.

This is the second time this has happened in a week. He doesn't want to admit it out loud, but he's been having wet dreams and they all include the same person, a person Levi shouldn't be thinking about to begin with for one specific reason,

She's a stranger.

Now, he wasn't a pervert, and anyone who knows him wouldn't describe him as one either. Levi's life behind the bedroom doors has been practically nonexisting lately, too focused on his nine to five so he can provide a comfortable life for himself and that little furry brat he calls his cat. His days of meeting new people and building a relationship are left far behind him in his college years, and he honestly couldn't care less about it all anymore. So why are his dreams showing a completely different story?

The stranger in his dream, he didn't even know her name. He sees her every morning at his neighborhood's coffee shop that she started frequenting around a month ago. He would walk in and find her sitting on the sunny spot facing the window.

The first thing he noticed about her was her choice of beverage, a modest cup of green tea, not his first choice - as he prefers black tea - but a good one nonetheless. She paired it with a millefeuille with strawberries, the marble top of it being white and pink. She always has her off white cross body bag on the table, a keychain of a pink pig with bunny ears (he thinks it's a weird combination of animals, but he admits that it's cute) hanging from it. He remembers exactly what he felt when he saw her face for the first time. She had a soft smile as she read something in her magazine, her cheeks covered in a blush that he believes is makeup, the shade suiting her tone perfectly, her nose scrunched as she took a bite off of her millefeuille, a hand delicately cupped under her chin to catch the crumbs. Levi felt his heart fluttering at the simple sight of her, which he tried his best to control but it ignored his deep breaths and continued its dance.

Why was she in his dreams? And that specific type of dreams as well? He never had them in his life, let alone with a total stranger! Levi was confused, drenched in sweat, and in need of a cold shower.

As he got ready for the day, his thoughts couldn't stop drifting towards the coffee shop stranger, so he let himself indulge in them for once. He thinks she's very pretty, gorgeous even. He thinks her voice might be as sweet as her smile, and he thinks her favourite colour would be pink, given that it's what she wore most. He wonders what her music taste would be, she gives off the vibes of someone who listens to Laufey, and he likes that thought, he hopes he's right about that because he enjoys Laufey too.

Is this what having a crush feels like? Based on the books he read, movies he watched and people's experiences he's been told about, everything adds up. The nerves at the thought of talking to her, his fluttering heart, the dream... It all made sense.

Levi has a crush on a stranger.

He wants to be wrong, he wants his heart and mind to be confused and got things mixed up. He could ask his therapist about it, but he knew himself well, he just didn't want to admit it. Still, he mastered the courage on his way to the coffee shop, hoping he wasn't too early and she'd already be there like always.

Levi decides he's going to approach her today, ask if he can take the seat across from her and start a conversation with her. He has always been told he's very well spoken and that conversations with him flow easily, he hopes he'd be able to do that when talking to her without his voice shaking.

Luck must be on his side, because when he opens the door and his eyes land on her usual spot, she is there, reading a magazine like always. He takes a deep breath and walks up to the barista telling him his usual order, but to not put it in a to-go cup. After the barista smiles at him and tells him his order would be ready shortly, he turns towards the fascinating stranger, and without allowing another thought to cross his mind, he walks towards her.

“is this seat taken ?”

Levi gives himself a mental pat on the back, he didn't stutter like he was afraid he'd do.

“not at all, you can have it.”

Shit, her voice isn't like he was expecting it to be, it's way better. It sounded smooth like butter gliding on fresh croissant, silky like the bed sheets his mother gave him as a house warming gift, soft like the way his cat's fur feels after a bath. His heart is about to beat out his chest and his hands are starting to get clammy with nerves but he's still playing it cool with his posture and his nonchalant way of speaking.

His lips are about to part and speak to her, but she beat him to it.

“I noticed you come here every day at the same time, and you always order the same thing.”

She noticed him!? And knew his order!? This is the last thing he expected to hear from her, in fact, he didn't expect her to talk to him at all, he thought he'd have to start the conversation!

“yeah, I used to make my own tea before I discovered this place, couldn't find the blend they use anywhere, apparently the owner makes it from scratch with his own leaves.”

She raises an eyebrow at that, clearly intrigued.

“I enjoy their green tea, certainly better than the ones at the grocery store. I wonder if their chamomile tea is just as good.”

Now it's Levi's turn to raise his eyebrow.

“Don't tell me you buy all your tea from the grocery store.”

“only chamomile! I drink my tea here now,” she defends herself, her pretty smile still on her face, “I don't know where else to buy it from, I'm new to town.”

“Perfect.” Levi thinks to himself. This can't get any better for him.

He casually grabs the cup of tea the barista placed in front of him a moment ago. His eyes still locked with hers despite feeling like he's about to pass out from nerves and excitement.

“how about you meet me here tomorrow? We can have our breakfast and I'll take you to my tea dealer, everything I can't get here I get from her, she's the best.”

The sweet angel in front of him giggles and he nearly melts in his seat. If only he can take that heavenly sound with him so he'd listen to it every chance he gets. It's better than any song he ever heard.

“how would I know this isn't your plan for killing me? You're a stranger after all.”

He places his cup back down after taking a sip.

“my name is Levi, Levi Ackerman. You are?”

“y/n y/l/n. It's nice to finally meet you, Levi.”

He feels like he's about to explode. He knows her name now, and it matches her so incredibly well. And the way she said his name? He never thought it would sound so beautiful until now.

“if you agree to come with me tomorrow, I'll let you search me before we go and I'll have my location turned on the whole time. Promise I won't try anything to hurt you.”

She looks down bashfully before nodding, agreeing to go with him wherever he is planning on taking her.

Levi discreetly sighs in relief seeing her agree. God, he couldn't even imagine hurting her, she's too delicate, too precious, he only wants to hold her close and hear her sweet giggles. To protect her from anything that could hurt her, whether it's big or small.

“now tell me, does Laufey happen to be your favourite artist?”

“how did you know!?”

A hint of a smile pulls at Levi's lips. He'll do anything to make her a part of his life and to keep her there forever.

[boiohboii]

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

or

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

Comments on this post have been disabled.

Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

[mysticarts]

silly little Gunntech Au oc

(ft me about to ramble, be ready yall-)

Soo, I've become obsessed with @elmushterri Gunntech Au (context: Gunntech AU is a AU where the show PJ masks is a show for more mature audiences for teens, think owl house!) They also made a video about this, just look up 'What if PJ Masks' and most likely they're video will pop up first!

(Note I'm using they them pronouns for Elmuehterri cause idk their pronouns and I wanna be respectful-)

And I remember from Elmushterri's video, they mentioned Octobella, and how she could be a failed experiment. Now, I belive Gunntech aren't quitters, so I think they'd try again to recreate what Octobella was supposed to be, and actually succeeded. Thus, introducing my oc....

Kailani 'Kai' Whitlock

Now, I made Kailani here like any other of the PJ masks charater's.

Kailani's dad (who I have not named yet) worked for Gunntech. so when Octobella failed, Kailani's dad offered her as a test subject. And since Kailani wanted to get proper attention from her father she didn't mind. Hence the truama that impacted her

Considering Kailani is a octopus, I had to do a lot of studying. I mean, she has to have some Octopus traits. So I do have some, I shall state it in a list

The first thing I did was give Kailani some height, I tried to atleast. Considering how long octopus's tentacles are, I imagine in replacement, it really long arms and legs, hence her height

2. I Made Kailani colorblind! Octopuses are color blind to, but make up for it with their color changing bodies, odd pupils, color sensing arms, so I'm Applying that to Kailani. Kailani did see color before she was taken in as a test subject, then she became colorblind

3. Google states that Octopuses usually live in tropical areas so I made Kailani born in Hawaii! (She moved though when she was born)

4. From studying, I have found out that Octopuses have three hearts. I don't know if that should be applied to Kailani or not. I'm just going with that her heart is just bigger than most others, so Kailani can be a little more athletic than her peers.

5. Due to the experiments, Kailani's blood is blue (yes, Octopuses actually have blue blood) because of this, Kailani never tries to get hurt. She dosent want to make her dad angry

(Here's a concept sketch of younger Kailani during her test subject days)

as for Personality, I made Kailani very shy. Sure, she's extremely smart for her age, not to mention very creative. Mention something Kailani likes and she'll be willing to yap about it hours on end. However, she has extremely strong loyalty, all she wants is to be accepted and actually loved, so if helping Gunntech means she can earn her father's love, she'll put all of her energy for Gunntech

As how she works for Gunntech, I imagine they call on Kailani if they need someone to be held down or need help moving things (considering with Octopuses strength they can lift more than 700 pounds)

but, when not being a person who could fight someone off, I imagine they'd use Kailani as a strategist. Octopuses are actually very smart, and considering the human mind plus Octopus traits, Kailani would be making or hashing out ideas or theories to take down the 'villans' not realizing she's working for the bad guy.

Anyway, here's her concept suit design

Now I shall relax before I have to suffer at school tomorrow

Edit: I forgot to mention this, but I made Kailani have the hugest crush on Greg (she hasn't made a move cause she's too shy)

Now, if you guys have questions or want to know more about Kailani, I'm glad to give you answers!

[scarlethexelove]

Hi Idk if your requests are still open but if they are, please can I request something? 🫣Remember Agatha photos, yes the one with the suit 🥴🫠🫨 I was thinking about Professor! Agatha. I want that. Daddy kink, breeding, and magic of course. Add whatever you want to it. Obviously, Top!Agatha

My Office

Image found on google

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 3102

Warnings: Professor!Agatha, Smut, Manipulation, Enchanted Strap, Fingering, A bit of mind control, Use of magic, Squirting, Daddy Kink, Dark!Agatha, Dom!Agatha, Sub!Reader, Breeding, Cock Warming, Virgin!Reader, Innocent!Reader, A bit of Dacryphilia, Age Gap (Agatha early 40s, Reader early/mid 20s), I think that is it

A/n: Alright so this one got away from me a bit. I made her a bit dark because I didn't want to fully typical professor/student relationship. I did also feel with making Reader so innocent that Reader being a virgin so that Agatha can manipulate her more was fun. Hope you like it and I didn't add anything that you didn't like

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

This class was your least favorite. History. You’re in history class with your least favorite teacher, Miss.Harkness. You don’t understand why you are borderline failing this class. You have been a straight A student all your life. You currently have a 4.0 GPA but you still can’t wrap your head around why this one is different. It’s like when you get your test back that you took a totally different test than what is being handed back. You’re beginning to think you are going crazy. How could you be doing this bad on all of these tests? Your GPA is tanking quickly and you just want to cry. And you almost do when another F lands on your desk right in front of you. 

“See me in my office after class.” Mrs.Harkness leans down and whispers in your ear. It’s like you can hear the smirk in her voice but you dare not to look. Fighting back the tears that threaten to fall as your eyes shine with them. You just give her a gentle nod as she continues to pass out papers. 

Your hands grip the pages looking at all the red X’s on the page. It’s History, it shouldn't be this hard. You studied all night for this test. You’re beginning to think that Mrs.Harkness has it out for you and wants you to fail. 

What you don’t know is that she doesn’t want you to fail. She has a plan for you and the only way she can make it happen is for her to make you desperate. So she uses her magic to change your answers. The handwriting looks the same so that you get the question wrong. She likes to tell herself that she would never use her magic in this way but she has to have you. So she continues to make you fail. The only test left is your final and she knows that you are at your most vulnerable and desperate to achieve a higher grade. So now is her time to strike. 

After class you walk slowly to her office. Having stopped in the bathroom to clean yourself up after letting a few tears slip down your face. You now stand outside the office door. Frosted glass with Miss.Harkness written in bold letters on the glass. The name mocking you as you gently knock on the door. 

“Come in dear.” You hear her call out from behind the door. You gulp down the fear rising in your throat as you turn the squeaky handle and enter the room. There she is behind her desk in a large black chair. She looks up at you with a smirk playing on her lips. She watches your nervous form as you rub your sweaty palms on your pants. “Y-you wanted to s-see me Miss.Harkness?” You stutter out, fear in your voice. 

“Agatha sweetie. You can call me Agatha sweetheart. We aren’t in class anymore.” She smiles at you standing from her seat as you awkwardly stand in the middle of her office.  She shrugs off her long suit coat that almost reaches the floor. She sets it on the back of her chair leaving her in a white button up shirt and suit pants. You hate to admit it but the older woman is very attractive. If you weren’t terrified of her you may actually have a crush on the woman. But you have no time to think about that. You’re failing her class and you need to pass. 

You nod and mumble “Agatha.” Her name feels strange on your tongue. “Sit dear, we have some things to discuss.” She motions for you to sit in the chair in front of her desk. You hesitantly move and sit as she rounds her desk. She moves and sits on the edge of her desk right in front of you. Pushing her sleeves up before gripping the edge of her desk, her legs slightly crossed as she holds herself up on the desk. “I’m very disappointed in you Y/n. I had heard many wonderful things about you from your previous professors but your work has been… underwhelming to say the least. I thought you had some brains in that pretty little head of yours.” Her voice is condescending and you can feel more tears in your eyes. You don’t even register the fact that she called you pretty at that moment. Only focusing on the criticism at the moment. 

You look down, not meeting her eyes. “I-I-I” The tears threaten to fall as you try to hold your composure. Agatha thriving on your innocence and your fears. Her finger hooking under your chin as she leans forward forcing you to look up at her. “I don’t understand why. I-I study for hours. I know the material.” Your voice shakes slightly. “Obviously not or you would be passing my class.” She tisk. A tear rolls down your cheek. She moves her hand cupping your cheek and wipes the tear away with her thumb. She has you exactly where she wants you. “What if I told you there was something you could do for me. Something that will let you pass and possibly even get you an A.” 

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I’ll do anything you ask of me just please I don’t wanna fail.” More tears slip down your cheeks as you don’t even question what she could possibly want from you. All you care about right now is your grade and to pass this class. You can deal with the consequences later. Right now you need this. 

Agatha’s smirk grows more sinister. Purple smoke forms around her hand as you hear the door behind you lock. Your eyes widen as you look back at the purple smoke fading from the door before you look back now terrified at the woman in front of you. “W-what are you?” You question her trying to pull away from her touch. Her fingers gripping your chin harshly as she leans down closer to you, her lips inches from yours. “Oh, did you think that history stays in the past? I’m a witch my dear. Delightful to meet you my dear.” She laughs a wicked laugh.

Your mind is reeling from the new information. What could a witch want from you? Is she evil or good? Has she been purposely failing you? How can you get away from her? You can’t seem to understand anything right now. Your mind is going hazy. You don’t even notice the purple smoke this time as it seeps into your mind. You're being pliable to her just the way she likes it. 

Agatha leans the rest of that distance and kisses your lips. With the magic she is using on you you kiss her back almost immediately. As the two of you make out Agatha starts to move you both gently. She gets you up on your feet grasping your hips tightly before she flips you pressing you against the desk. With her hands on your hips she urges you to sit on the desk which you do with her help. When air becomes an issue she pulls back her forehead leaning against yours. All you feel now is her and the need for her. 

Agatha is pressed against you. You feel a bulge in her pants causing you to let out a whimper. “Oh sweetheart. Do you want daddy to fuck you?” She grinds into you moaning. You look at her with innocence with a touch of fear. Your mind is trying to scream at you to say no but soon that voice becomes small and distant until you can’t hear it anymore. Your only thoughts are of her.

“Daddy?” You say cautiously. Seeing how it feels on your tongue. She smiles at you. “Yes baby.” She says with another grind of her hips which causes you to let out a moan. “I-I’ve never.” Is all that you can get out. Too embarrassed to add anything hoping she gets the hint which she does. A low groan leaving her lips. She knew you were innocent but not this innocent and now she gets to ruin you for anyone else. “That’s ok sweet girl Daddy will take care of you. Do you want daddy to take care of you?” You ponder her question for a moment before nodding your head. 

“I need words sweet girl.” Now that she has you she is going to teach you right. “Yes.” You mumble. “Yes what?” She asks, pulling back slightly to see what you would do. “Yes Daddy.” You grip her shirt, pulling her back. “Mmm good girl.” Her words make you blush and let out a small whine. You’re so adorable she thinks.

With her hands on your hips she pulls at your pants motioning for you to let her take them off. You lift your hips for her as she pulls them down and you help kick them off. She moans seeing the large wet spot on your panties. You shy under her gaze and try to close your legs but she doesn’t let you. Her fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. Where you know you will have bruises tomorrow. Her one hand moving and pressing against your clothed bundle of nerves. You squirm at the touch, a throb you have never felt before in core. Her other hand moving up and tugging at your shirt, a signal for you to take it off. 

You help take off your shirt as Agatha slowly starts to circle your clit with her finger. You unconsciously start to grind on her hand. Once your shirt is off her hand moves up and harshly grope your breast. She pulls your bra down letting your breast spill over the top. Leaning down and wrapping her lips around one of your nipples moving her hand to the other to tweak and pinch as her teeth scrape across the one in her mouth. The hand that was on your clothed core moves and grips your hips as she pushes closer and grinds against you. You both let out a moan at the feeling. One of your hands moving to her back and the other moving to the base of her scalp, lacing your fingers in her hair and gripping it tightly when she bites your nipple. Letting out a whimper as she groans. 

“Fuck baby girl, so wet and needy for me already.” Agatha pulls back before kissing your neck. Sucking and nipping leaving reddish purple marks on your neck wanting people to know that you are taken. As she attacks your neck her hand moves back down between your bodies, her fingers pushing aside your panties. Swiping her fingers through your drenched folds teasing your entrance before easing her finger in. You squirm at the stretch. “Daddy.” You whine. “Shhhh, baby girl. Daddy is going to make you feel so good.” Her lips never leave your neck as she pumps her finger slowly in and out of your pussy. “Yes daddy.” You whimper. 

She slowly starts to pick up her pace. A second finger joining the first as she pushes them both in. You grip her even tighter, digging your nails in whining at the slightly painful stretch. Small whimpers and moans leaving your lips egging her on to go faster curling her fingers. Your walls start to clamp down on her fingers letting her know that you are close. “D-Daddy I feel funny.” You whine trying to squirm away but Agatha growls digging her fingers into your hip. She quickens the pace wanting to see you fall apart around her fingers. She pulls back watching your face. Your face is scrunched up and you're trying to grip at any part of her that you can reach. “Let it go sweetheart. You can do it for daddy.” You shake your head, tears filling your eyes, but your body is telling a different story as your wall clamp around her fingers, your legs quivering. “You’ll feel so good. Just let it go. Don’t you want to cum all over daddy’s fingers?” You whimper and nod, finally letting the feeling take over you. Cum coating her fingers as she fucks you through your orgasm. Slowing down her pace before pulling out causing you to whimper at the loss. She pops her fingers in her mouth moaning at your taste. “Fuck sweetheart you taste devine. I should have done this earlier.” Your mind is hazy. She has you and your mind is hers. 

Your panting and lean your head forward onto her shoulder as you try to regain your composure. Until you hear the sound of her zipper being undone. You pull back looking at her. She shuffles her pants and boxers down as a purple strap springs out. It is large and you wonder how it will fit inside of you. She watches you intently as her hand wraps around the appendage. She moans as she jerks it. Your eyes moving up to hers being met with blown pupils. “Fuck Daddy is going to be able to feel how wet and warm you are. How tight your little cunt is. Fuck when your cum coats my dick. I can explode just thinking about it.” She moves back between your legs, a confused look on your face. “Daddy enchanted this cock. I’m going to be able to feel all of your perfect pussy.” Her anticipation has her already swiping her strap through your folds gathering your juices onto it. Nudging your clit ever so slightly as she does before moving it down and nudging it at your entrance. 

She slowly pushes in the head of her cock popping into your entrance and making you whine. “Daddy it won’t fit.” You already feel the painful stretch and so full from just the head. “I’ll make it fit sweetheart.” She kisses your lips to distract you as she slams forward fully sheathing herself in your warm tight pussy. You cry out at the painful stretch, her mouth swallowing your cries as you try and push her away but she is stronger than you. “Hurts Daddy.” You whine. “Shhh it’s ok daddy will make it feel better.” She starts to slowly thrust her hips. Tears are falling down your cheeks as she leans her forehead against yours wiping your tears away gently. 

Keeping her pace slow but thrusting deep as she watches your face turn from scrunched up pain to melting into pleasure. Both hands dig harshly into your hips as she picks up her pace. Her patience wear thin as she needs to fuck you. To make you cum on her cock. “So fucking tight. Fuck!” She says her hips are snapping into you. Your pain gradually turns into pleasure the more she fucks you. Your legs wrapping around her waist and your fingers digging into her back. She smirks no longer holding back and jackhammering into your willing pussy. Both your moans filling the office. She is fucking into you so harshly that her desks squeaks on the floor and papers start to fall off her desk, but neither of you care. 

“Mmm so good. You're such a good girl for me taking my cock.” She mumbles against your lips. The pleasure building causes your brain to turn to mush. Your moans bouncing off the walls. “G-Good.” Is all you’re able to mumble out. 

Agatha’s hips slap against your ass as she continues to pound into you. Angling her hips perfectly to hit that spot deep inside you that you're seeing stars. Her thrust is becoming more erratic as your walls start to tighten around her cock. “Fuck! I’m going to fill this pussy so full of my cum. Would you like that baby girl? For Daddy to fill your pretty pussy with my cum? Get you pregnant, breed you. Make you my pretty little housewife. I bet you would look so hot swollen with my babies. Fuck keep you pregnant all the time just so I can fill your horney needs all the time. Continuously fill this pussy till you're dripping and so dumbed down you’ll still be begging for more.” You moan loudly a small gush of liquid coating her cock as you're turned on more. “Oh fuck you like that baby girl. I’ll make it come true. Keep you as mine forever.” Your walls clenching tightly around her cock making her moan. 

“Please!” You moan out. You’re not sure what you're asking for whether it is to cum or for her to get you pregnant. You're close to falling over the edge again so you use your legs to pull her closer. Agatha is so close too. Her hand moving down and her thumb rubbing tight fast circles on your clit. Your loud moan edging her on. Her pace quickens again to an inhuman speed as she chases both of your highs. She feels you clench again. “Cum baby girl. Fuck! Cum on Daddy’s cock.” 

That’s all it takes. You both fall over the edge at the same time. Liquid squirting out of you onto Agatha as you feel a warm sticky liquid paint your walls. You're both moaning as agatha continues to thrust, riding out both of your highs, her thumb still circling your clit. You whimper as it starts to become too much. She slows down her thrust until she stops leaving herself sheathed inside of you. Her hands firmly planted on either side of you on the desk as both of your chests heave. Your arms wrap tightly around her as you nuzzle into her neck.

Your mind and body are exhausted, but you feel complete like this is what you have always wanted in life. Your mind is absent of the original reason for coming into this office. Your only thoughts are filled with Agatha. You're both there in silence, the only sound is the sounds of your breathing.  A comfortable silence between you two as you both enjoy the presence of one another. 

Agatha pulls you back and you let out a small whine. She moves your hair out of your face and wipes the tears off your cheeks. She has the kindest, most gentle smiles as she kisses your forehead, then the tip of your nose, before kissing your lips gently leaning her forehead against yours. “Daddy needs to grade some papers. How about you be a good girl and sit on Daddy’s cock while she does that.” You nod. “Mkay Daddy.” Knowing that this night will change your life forever.

[ikeuverse]

love shot | pjs

pairing: cop!jay x investigator fem!reader  genres: fluff, humor, slight (really light) angst wc: 9.7k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : some cursing, mention of betrayal, a slight brawl near the end. nothing to worry about, but let me know if i've forgotten anything else.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : after being betrayed, jay was never able to fall in love with anyone again, even more so in his work environment. but that thought would not remain the moment he laid eyes on you, entering the meeting room as his new work partner in the investigations.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : i didn't want to focus so much on professions or the work environment itself, but i wanted something out of the ordinary (offices or coffee shops) and i thought of something more humorous, apart from the betrayal part, of course. idk if i'm 100% satisfied with this story, but all feedback is appreciated. i hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 masterlist ꒱

Working can be both tiring and rewarding. Tiring because you put in hours – sometimes a few extra – a day throughout the week. Rewarding because you get paid for it and often end up enjoying what it can bring you.

Jay believed that work went much further than that. Being in the police force for eight years had its good and bad sides, and he couldn't romanticize something that, time and again, took his mind off things.

The good side: he applied to join the police at the end of university, as a joke with his best friend – who ended up applying three days after him – and guess what? They both got in. The aptitude test was positive and all they had to do was accept that they now had a job. You wouldn't want to throw away the years you spent studying for something that had nothing to do with the police, but after a few years, the rewards came.

For his excellent performance, still on the good side of his job, being promoted to head of special operations was something Jay never thought he'd do. Perhaps Jake, his best friend, was better suited to it. He was stronger, more agile, and had certainly been on more missions than Jay himself.

Don't belittle your achievements, Jake told him with a huge smile, content with his position as deputy boss. Because the two had always been a duo since they joined, it wouldn't be fair for Jay to move up and leave his friend behind.

But not everything could be described as a good thing, after all, there is a bit of negativity in all of this. Not just because he works to combat bad things. That was the least of the problems at the police station. But because Jay knew that being in that environment would make him experience everything intensely.

Downside: getting involved with a coworker.

Where's the downside, Jongseong? As it was easy to remember the good things, the bad things came just as easily.

Like the greatest romance cliché, Jay liked the girl straight away. Her light hair and easy smile for anyone in the department made him smile too. But it wasn't just the smile that ended up being easy. Jay had to find out the hard way, dating for three months and a week before learning of his long-awaited promotion.

Everyone at the police station knew about Jay and Yuri, the criminal cases clerk. She had joined almost a year ago, attracting the attention of some of the police officers she worked with. It was normal, after all, Yuri was pretty, and practically all the women – and there weren't many of them – who worked at the police station were pretty.

"Maybe that's a requirement for working here," Sunoo joked once in the café when Yuri walked past them.

"Or maybe they put pretty girls to the test," Heeseung, an investigator and friend of the boys, suddenly hummed.

Jay laughed, knowing that his friends were too stupid. Or maybe they were right.

But apart from being pretty, Yuri didn't really like Jay. Or he thought of that possibility as soon as he saw her with her tongue down the throat of a policeman he didn't even know, doing each other in the break room on a shift when he was supposed to be at home.

That's why she was there with another man. Yuri knew Jay's routine, and going to the break room at a time when he wasn't at the police station would be perfect for no one to catch them.

But Jay had forgotten his coat the night before and needed to put his uniform in the wash. He didn't like leaving clothes hanging and dirty.

My coat saved me from the worst, he thought as he took a long stride out of the room, leaving under the shouts of Yuri calling his name.

"Jay, wait!" she gasped, running to him as the boy rushed down the stairs.

He almost jumped down two steps at once but stopped himself because he didn't want to twist his foot or hurt himself. So he tried to go as fast as he could until he felt Yuri's hands on his arm.

"What do you want?" he asked in a string of voices, holding back all his anger so as not to shout at her.

Firstly because they were on the stairs and it would make a huge echo, and secondly because Jay, even if he was nervous, would never shout at a woman. Even if she deserved it.

"It's not… No…"

"Don't tell me it's not what I think, because I saw it" that tone sent a chill down anyone's spine. Both Yuri and the people at the police station had only ever seen Jay talk like that in some negotiation – almost non-negotiable – or with some guy who challenged the battalion they worked in.

"This is all your fault" she said after a while when she saw that Jay wasn't saying anything, now seeing the horrified expression on his face "You're too focused on the job and…"

"Because I'm paid to do that, Yuri" he interrupted her "Not to mention that we work in the same environment, we see each other every day" Jay took a few steps towards her, tilting his face so that it was level with his – now ex – girlfriend "And I've always taken time out, in all my breaks, to see you. So what's my fault that you cheated on me right under my nose?"

Silence. One sigh, two, three.

Jay knew that was the cue to leave, so, disengaging Yuri's hand from his arm, he left as hurriedly as he had before.

And that had been the last conversation he had with his ex before, a week later, he learned of his promotion to boss.

Jay didn't want people to feel sorry for him or treat him differently after what had happened. For a long time, he had to deal with painful looks in his direction, and sometimes his colleagues wanted to drag him to some dance club to try and forget what had happened.

The only one who understood was Jake. Being in the same office as his best friend helped him keep his sanity when someone made some kind of comment, even if it wasn't a mean one, about what had happened.

It lasted a couple of months and he wanted to punch himself for ranting and hinting that something had happened. But as soon as his relationship became known, he knew that the break-up and betrayal would go the same way.

"People are giving her the stink eye right now" Sunoo walked into the special operations unit room, poking Jake in the head and then walking over to Jay, handing him a cup of coffee.

"No coffee for me?" Jake muttered quietly, grimacing and running over to Jay to sip his drink, knowing that his best friend wasn't in the mood for it.

"I didn't want any of this" Jay sighed, wiping his hands across his face in exhaustion.

"Sure, who wants to be betrayed?" Jake dodged another nudge from Sunoo, grabbing his coffee cup and heading over to his table.

"What I mean is…" he sighed, ignoring Jake who continued humming as he sipped the hot liquid, working wonders on his system because he really needed some caffeine "Yuri's reputation was tarnished after that, even Liam's."

"Liam?" Jay frowned.

"The policeman… You know…" Sunoo scratched the back of her head and tried her best to smile. Not that she wanted to smile at the situation, but maybe she wanted to reassure Jay a little.

It was only then that the boy realized. Liam was the one with Yuri, the policeman Jay had seen making out with his ex-girlfriend in the break room.

He didn't even want to know anything about the guy: his name, who he was, what position he was in. He could only tell that he was a policeman by his clothes, but for the rest, Jay tried to push it out of his mind and even walked away when someone brought it up. He only found out because Sunoo had said it out loud.

"Well, may he do well, then" Jay got up from his chair when the alarm went off, indicating that they needed to be in the meeting room to organize strategies for a new case.

Passing Jake's desk, he took the cup from his best friend's hand – halfway, thankfully – and drank the rest of the coffee.

"Hey!" Jake protested.

"It was meant for me, asshole" Jay cursed and laughed when the other tried to say something else, but got up and walked along with Sunoo behind Jay.

The three of them headed towards the huge room and entered. They weren't the first because Heeseung was already there, his typical tired smile indicating that he had just woken up. Maybe he'd been at the police station all night to sort something out.

"I think someone needs coffee too" Jake hummed.

"Go and get it, since you've had all my coffee" Jay said.

"I was doing you a favor" that funny little discussion was typical of almost every day. Because of Jay and Jake's intimacy and because the department was so heavy, funny energy was always a good way to get work done.

Gradually the room filled up, Jay's people came in and greeted the head and deputy head. Waving to Sunoo and Heeseung too.

When everyone was properly positioned, like a regular meeting, the chief of the police station greeted them and began to pass on some instructions and changes in some cases.

It wasn't often that he tinkered much with Jay's department, being one of the few who managed to play the role straight without too many changes. But Park, like a good boss, knew he was having a bit of trouble accessing information for a new case.

So when the station boss called his name, the boy straightened up in his chair and sniffled.

"Yes, boss" Jay greeted the gray-haired man, receiving a smile in response.

"I've been thinking and I want to know if you mind changing a few things in your case" he stood, resting one hand on the table while the other was in the holster at his waist.

"Of course not, boss, whatever you think is best."

The man nodded positively, looking at Heeseung this time.

"I thought I'd put some investigators on your case, you know, gather information" that was brilliant, considering that Jay was on a high-risk case. Where he needed to know more about people until he got to the main suspect – and criminal – in fact.

Heeseung seemed surprised, having never thought of working directly with special ops personnel where he only heard Jay and Jake's crazy stories. It sounded pretty exciting.

"But I think Heeseung alone would be too little for the size of your case, guys" Heeseung just agreed with his boss, knowing that he couldn't do it alone either "So I took the liberty of calling in two other people, if that's okay with you."

"That's fine with me" Jay smiled quickly.

He couldn't count how long he was paralyzed between the police chief calling in the new people to work on his case and the moment his eyes landed on you.

The dark uniform, the shiny badge hanging around your neck, and the most captivating smile Jay had ever seen in his life. Strangely, he felt elated when you looked at him, holding his gaze and waving to greet him.

"This is Y/n, deputy boss of investigations. And Stella, the boss of the department" the gray-haired man introduced, and just hearing Jay's name was worth a lot.

Stella talked all the time about how she and her department would contribute to the operation, Heeseung did a great job of adding some information along with his boss while talking to the special ops men.

But not Jay. He just didn't know what to say. It was as if he felt like a teenager again, unable to utter a single word in front of the most beautiful girl in school.

"Right" Jake noticed his best friend's pause, holding back a smile because it would be used against him a few minutes later "Jay and I are happy about the addition to our team. We're going to work very well together and I think a team of investigators would be perfect. Welcome."

After the thanks, Jake asked some of his boys to go over what progress they had made so far with the new team of investigators. You and Stella followed him, while the people in the room gradually dissipated until Jay, Jake, Sunoo and Heeseung were left.

"We have to go too, don't we?" Jay stood up.

"Oh, now he's learned to talk again" Sunoo joked.

"What?" Jay's eyes widened as he heard the other three burst into laughter.

"Dude, you froze when y/n walked in" Heeseung held in his laughter so he could finish his sentence.

"Me? Of course not."

"I had to introduce you, you couldn't even say your name" Jake pushed Jay's body as he stood up, leaning on the table and grinning mischievously "So that's her?"

"That's her? Her what?" Jay looked at the three of them, one at a time, receiving knowing looks from his friends.

"Who's going to make you dismantle that barrier you've created in your heart."

Jay hated how direct Sunoo was with his words. He didn't hate it completely, because he knew that Jake said things slowly, testing the waters, while Sunoo got straight to the point and didn't beat around the bush. Heeseung was more of a moral supporter, always trying to see the bright side of things and, even if he didn't, the boy made a good point about it.

"She's kind and very beautiful" Heeseung said, wrapping his arm around Jay's shoulders "Not to mention that she loses bets easily and gives a sensational shoulder massage."

"What? You…" Jake walked into his and Jay's living room, awestruck by Heeseung's words.

Jay didn't want to be disappointed at the thought of Heeseung's closeness to you, but he felt like a complete idiot for thinking that way when he had only known you for less than twenty minutes.

"We're very good friends, just like you, Jake and Sunoo" he was the last to enter, disengaging his arm from Jay's shoulder to close the door and sit down on the small dark leather sofa.

"Tell us more about it" Sunoo asked, and Jay was grateful for the directness as he didn't want to seem desperate for information.

He didn't even know why he was so intrigued by you.

Heeseung didn't mince his words when he started telling about the first time he met you and Stella. He had joined the police force in almost the same year as Jay and Jake. Eight years in one environment was a long time, and a year and a half later you were both there, in the same department as him. Completely out of place because you were the only women and investigators.

Of course, there was a bit of prejudice from other people and even a certain masked machismo, but not with Heeseung. He had been the only one to talk to them, to ask them to lunch.

"Oh, that's why you canceled a few lunches with us" Jake recalled.

Continuing the story in which he had been entertained, seeing the attention of the three in front of him, Heeseung sat down a little more comfortably on the sofa to finish speaking.

Those years of being friends with the only women in the department had made Heeseung work hard, include his friends in any case he entered and, without a doubt, ask them for their opinion. To show that they were just as capable as he was.

It was no wonder that, three years later, Stella was being appointed boss of the investigation department. A change here and there removed the former male boss from his post, and the police station apologized for the whole thing because there were too many departments to manage and they were sorry that someone from their building had been through so much bad stuff.

"Did you want to be boss?" Jay asked.

"Not in a million years" Heeseung replied quickly, "I'm not good at it."

"What do you mean?"

Sunoo knew what he meant, but it was funny to remember Heeseung's antics in the police force. Like when he almost broke your arm, when you two went after a case to investigate and he tripped over his own feet running after the suspect. Not realizing that you were so close that he fell on top of you.

Or when he doused the micro camera from another mission, costing thousands just for that investigation, an expensive piece of equipment that the head of the police station shelled out for just so they could have such excellent materials to capture the suspect.

Heeseung was content with his fumbles and also knew that it was a lot of responsibility, he was happy with his position.

"What about the deputy boss?" Jay didn't even bother to ask anymore since all his friends were too curious for that.

"Don't be fooled, she's just as clumsy as I am" Heeseung laughed "But y/n investigated that serial killer last year, it gave her a lot of visibility" he remembered sleepless nights helping his friend with the case. He'd dropped out at first because he'd been recruited for something else, but when he had time off, he ended up helping "She asked me to be the deputy boss, but I got scared of the title and ended up almost fainting at the appointment meeting."

"Heeseung" Jake swallowed back a laugh, closing his eyes as he shrugged.

"Huge positions make me nervous, I'm sorry" he apologized, making himself comfortable on the sofa in Jay and Jake's living room "But it's good that the two people they despised the most just for being women are now heads of the department" he smiled genuinely happy "And I'm one position below y/n, my salary is higher than all those idiots."

At least there was something good that Heeseung hadn't been nervous about, he could handle a good amount – almost triple – his old salary and still be close to the two women from the start.

"Okay, now talk about the massage or Jay will explode" Sunoo ordered after a while, seeing that his friend was restless in his chair. Jay hated being so expressive like that or that his friends knew him so well.

He rolled his eyes, ready to refute what Sunoo had said when Heeseung started talking.

"Me and y/n live off bets. Whether it's our cases or those of other colleagues" he closed his eyes, sighing a little as tiredness began to take over his body. "So if she loses, she's obliged to massage my shoulders for a week. And if I lose, I'll buy her lunch for a week."

"That sounds like…" Sunoo began.

"Cool. Shall we do it?" Jake turned to Jay, seeing him roll his eyes.

"I wouldn't massage your shoulders," he retorted.

"But you'd let y/n do it on you?"

Yes. He bit his tongue to answer, almost letting it slip without thinking.

Heeseung laughed when he opened his eyes and saw Jay's mental dilemma between answering or not.

The boss of the department also started to feel bad, as if he was invading something that Heeseung seemed to have built up with you, after all, the two of you seemed very close.

Jay didn't realize he'd been rambling on for too long, only realizing when Heeseung was standing in front of him, snapping his fingers to get his attention. Jake and Sunoo had already left the room, probably going to get some coffee or pick up something about the case they had to work on.

"Relax, dude" Heeseung commented as soon as Jay stood up, walking out of the room beside him.

"What about?" he asked, not knowing why his tone was hesitant.

"Y/n is my best friend" he said simply, having Jay's eyes fixed on his face the whole time he spoke, "And she's also the one responsible for getting me together with Stella."

"Oh" was all he managed to say. Jay hadn't noticed, no one had.

Either Heeseung and Stella were extremely professional, or Jay was so intrigued to know about you that if his friend had said something about his girlfriend, he didn't pay attention.

"My relationship with y/n could be the same as the one you'll have with Stella if you start a relationship with her best friend" he let slip, laughing at Jay's expression. He hadn't said anything and his friends were already thinking about a relationship? "Don't worry, I approve of you two dating."

Arriving at the coffee shop, Heeseung ran up to his two friends, who were already ordering the coffee they were all drinking together.

With no chance to reply, Jay stood there for long minutes thinking about everything that had happened that day.

He had met one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life, if not the most beautiful. He had learned that Heeseung was dating her and, what's more, his best friend was the one who had been making him think for so long.

A woman, in his workplace, making his heart race. Something he swore would never happen again.

You knowing a little more about Jay – beyond what was circulating around the police station – was a sign that he also knew about you, even more so when Heeseung said some qualities or even the way you two exchanged glances the first time you met in that meeting room, almost a month ago.

You were the cupid for Heeseung and Stella's relationship, and now you were sure that your friend was trying to do the same thing with you and Jay.

"No one told you to say out loud that the head of special operations was hot" Stella whispered, biting into the snack she had brought because today was going to be a busy day, with no chance of lunch in the refectory.

"I thought you and I were the only ones in the room" you tried to defend yourself, remembering the exact moment when you sighed and said how hot Jay was. Heeseung entered a few seconds earlier, without making a fuss, hearing exactly the moment when you almost whimpered.

Of sure he pestered you for weeks before he started talking to you a bit more about Jay.

"All right, all right" Stella finished, "but you know Hee's only trying to help."

"Hee" you rolled your eyes, making your best friend laugh. Your relationship with Heeseung was almost like big brother and little sister. You felt like Stella was your sister-in-law.

"Hey, girls" Heeseung waved from the door of the investigation office.

"Speaking of the devil" you smiled falsely, unwrapping your snack just as your friend walked in, muttering some swear words at you as he made his way over to Stella's desk.

The smack of lips from the two of them kissing made you sigh at how cute they were, but as soon as Heeseung's eyes met yours, you faked a vomiting noise just to pick on him.

"Put down your snacks, we're going to lunch" he said, holding Stella's sandwich halfway and pulling it away from her hands.

"We don't have time, love. Me and y/n have a lot to do before we meet the operations staff…"

"Exactly" Heeseung smiled at his girlfriend "Let's have lunch with them and go straight to the office, we have a lot of work."

After the end of the sentence Heeseung immediately looked in her direction. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he raised his eyebrows at you.

Did he plan that? Lunch with the special ops guys meant lunch with Jay. And you felt embarrassed enough that your friend had caught you confessing that the head of another department was hot. Looking at him and having lunch with him wasn't on your mind, at least not until this case was over.

"I don't think so" you said.

"Come on, y/n, let's go" Heeseung asked, pouting. He knew it wouldn't convince you, especially coming from him, but trying was always an option for the boy "Jay asked you to go."

You knew he hadn't asked you to do anything, Heeseung had just said that to see if you'd cheer up and, in the worst or best case scenario, he and Stella's thoughts about you being into Jay could have been right. He was, but you wouldn't say anything until then.

"Stella" you called out to your friend, who was already packing up to leave the room. In defeat, you got up from your desk and tidied up before joining the couple "Do you mind being widowed early? I think I'm going to kill your boyfriend."

Heeseung's hysterical scream echoed down the corridor, and no one thought it strange since this was the two of you's relationship there. People got so used to laughing with you and him that it was strange the other way around. When you or Heeseung were too serious, not joking or shouting around. The head of the police station even thanked you for bringing a little joy to such a chaotic environment.

As soon as they arrived at the refectory, it was relatively crowded and not very surprising, given that it was the exact time that almost all the departments were there.

Heeseung spotted the table where the other three friends were sitting and waved to get their attention. With his free hand, he intertwined his fingers with Stella's to lead the way and walk with the two of you to the rest of the people.

"You really did it" Sunoo applauded as soon as the three of you reached the table "He said it would be almost impossible to get you two out of that room."

"Considering he almost stole our snack" you commented.

"I'm going to expose you" Heeseung hissed.

"Fuck off" you said in the same tone.

The laughter was contagious as the two of you started talking, while you realized that Heeseung had already reserved a seat for him and Stella next to Jake, leaving only one seat between Jay and Sunoo.

I'll kill you.

You son of a bitch.

I hate you.

There were a few curses that you uttered silently, just moving your lips as you went around the table to sit between the two men.

Heeseung, holding back his laughter, sat down to in front of Sunoo.

"Shall we wait for the line to shorten and get lunch?" Stella asked.

"Or we could go in threes to save our table too" Sunoo said.

"Good idea" Heeseung nodded "Can it be me, Stella, and Jay?"

"Sure, go ahead" Jake replied, waving to the three of them who were getting up.

Jay tried his best not to look tense as you sat down next to him, noticing the look on his face as soon as he stood up. It was infectious, so he smiled as soon as you smiled back as a small greeting before he joined Heeseung and Stella for the lunch line.

"You know" Jake leaned across the table, catching your eye until you finally looked at him and stopped staring at Jay, "I think you two are cute."

"What?" you widened your eyes.

Sunoo laughed, wanting to hit Jake, but he was too far away for that.

"I don't know, I think you and Jay would be cute together" he was playing with the wrapper of something, probably the straw from the empty coffee cup in front of him "and since I'm his best friend, I approve of that."

"Heeseung and you are up to something, right?" your eyes narrowed, making Jake mimic the act and then laugh a little.

"Those two are idiots, y/n. Don't mind them" Sunoo touched your shoulder so gently that you turned to him, smiling in appreciation "But you two are really cute."

"I was starting to like you" your eyes now narrowed at Sunoo, who was laughing just like Jake a few minutes earlier.

The three of you got into a completely different conversation after that, talking about other police departments and what you would do if you had never joined the police.

That made for a good few minutes of conversation until Jay, Heeseung and Stella came back with trays of food. Then it was time for you three to go. Grateful that it hadn't taken too long – and that there was fruit salad – you and Sunoo grabbed two containers each, celebrating that you now had a friend who loved fruit salad too. None of the others would take that salad and you didn't know how, loving that the same indignation was shared by Sunoo.

"Now we can eat just the two of us" he whispered before returning to the table.

In another conversation, now completely different and without provocation, you noticed that Jay's laughter was contagious. His gaze was much more fixed on you than on anyone else at the table, but the atmosphere was so pleasant that you were no longer embarrassed to have to look at him so closely. Or to feel his hand brushing lightly against yours a few times when the two of you went to get something from the tray to eat because you were sitting next to each other.

For Jay, after years, that feeling was rediscovered. He thought he was rusty, worn out from feeling something good romantically or even in the form of interest in someone. But not when you talked so animatedly, or with the swearing at Heeseung while he stole some fries from your tray.

Jay didn't have time to experience this feeling with Yuri because she didn't care much for Jay's friendships, not even Jake whom he had known since high school.

Yuri seemed to want to deprive him of some things even though they had only been together for a short time.

Don't call them haunts, they'll show up, Jay thought to himself as soon as he looked up, two tables away. Yuri was staring at him fervently, looking as if her face was red from something spicy she had eaten. But there was nothing spicy on the menu, so why did she look like she was about to explode?

"Jay" he quickly turned to you, surprised that you were calling him. He stared at you, realizing that you were whispering while his friends were talking loudly and excitedly about another conversation. He leaned in close enough for you to continue saying "Are you okay?"

Don't make it difficult, y/n. I can't feel like kissing you right now, he sighed but nodded in agreement.

"I am, it's just…" he looked again at the table Yuri was at, wanting to curse himself in every possible way when you looked in the same direction and then at him.

Your posture straightened and you had a frightened look on your face.

In your mind, he was still thinking about his ex, so all the joking around that his friends were doing wouldn't lead anywhere.

In his mind, Jay didn't care if Yuri was angry with another woman sitting next to him or not. He only cared about your interpretation and what you thought of it. He didn't want it to be taken the wrong way and end something that had barely begun.

"Am I supposed to feel bad that she's ignoring me?" Jay huffed, untying his holster and throwing it on the table abruptly.

He didn't understand why he was so nervous. Maybe it was because he and the team of investigators had finally started working together, and you were the only one who wasn't looking directly into his eyes anymore.

For the first few days, Jay thought it was the nervousness of the interaction since he also knew how much his friends teased him about the whole situation. But then he started to put the pieces together, exchanging glances with Yuri… until Heeseung went in as a personal investigator and tried to get something out of it.

"His ex looked like she was going to kill him with just that look" you whispered to your friend, telling him what had happened in the refectory. Heeseung even opened his mouth to say something, but Jake had called for them to start organizing the operations.

Jay didn't feel good about it. The relationship had been years ago, people had talked about it for months until it had cooled down and, after all this time, he finally felt ready to rediscover his feelings, or whatever they were, for you. But it seemed that Yuri was suffocating him even though you were no longer with him.

The few things you told Heeseung that weren't secret, he told Jay. And that made him understand why you were ignoring him.

"She just thinks too much" Stella pulled out the swivel chair to sit next to Jay's desk. Only the two bosses were there after Heeseung left with Jake "Y/n doesn't have such a…"

"As bad as mine?" Jay let out a sarcastic whisper, hating the way Yuri could still affect him even though he hadn't done anything.

"I wouldn't put it like that, but since you did" she shrugged, causing Jay to let out a small laugh. Remembering when Heeseung said that she would probably be the friend that Jay could pick on, just like Heeseung and you did.

"I don't know, I really liked her, you know? It was weird, but I liked it" Jay sat down and leaned all his weight on the chair. Stella remained silent, enjoying the free venting session "I never thought I could have this feeling after what Yuri did."

"She was a bitch."

"Yes, she was" Jay let Stella laugh at the situation, ending up laughing too "Now your friend hates me."

"No, she doesn't" the woman pouted, twisting in her chair as she stared at the office ceiling "Maybe she needs to hear from you what happened."

"That my ex is psychotic and even I don't know why she was looking so angry?" he asked.

"Exactly" Stella stopped spinning, raising her head and meeting Jay's gaze "Then you can ask her to dinner."

The naturalness with which Stella had said it made Jay certain why she and Heeseung were a perfect couple.

"Right, I…"

"Rest room" she said as soon as he stood up "Not the one you… Well… It's been forbidden since Jake told us what floor it was. So we don't go there anymore."

He laughed, probably imagining the story his best friend had told to try to convince them. The betrayal in itself was already a story, but Jake had certainly increased it by 300%, even telling them that they would have bad luck in any niche of life if they continued resting in the room he entered and found Yuri and the other policeman.

Jay listened carefully to where the restroom was and quickly climbed the stairs, not wanting to wait for an elevator – and there were only two flights – he arrived so quickly that he had to catch his breath as he walked through the corridors until he arrived in front of the door.

You can do it, Jongseong. He said to himself before turning the handle and entering.

Stella was right, you were in that room sitting on the sofa with your feet propped up on the coffee table. A cup of juice was in front of you and your attention was focused on some papers in your hands. You only looked away when Jay snorted, causing you to startle and quickly get up from the sofa.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" he said afterward, noticing that you weren't expecting him there. Well, he wasn't even expecting to come after you, if he was honest.

"It's okay, I… I was just leaving" you put the papers in the envelope and tried to look for your coat.

"No, wait," Jay ordered.

Don't keep talking, don't say anything.

"I wanted to talk to you."

Fuck. You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you turned back to pick up the cup of juice on the coffee table, letting all the air out of your lungs in a sigh, hoping that Jay hadn't heard the urgency with which it had happened.

Turning to face him, with the envelope in one hand and the cup of juice in the other, you nodded, indicating that you were listening.

"Something wrong with the case? I was reviewing some—"

"It's nothing to do with the case" Jay interrupted subtly, taking a few more subtle steps towards you. If you noticed the approach, you didn't flinch, only noticing how close he was when, with one more step, Jay would completely glue his body to yours.

"So what's it about?" you didn't even know because your voice dropped an octave, let alone why Jay was whispering when there were only the two of you there.

Carefully and without answering anything, he took the envelope and the cup from your hand, placing them both on the coffee table and finally bringing his body completely close to yours.

You knew Jay's proportions from the way his muscles were well-defined by his dress clothes, his suspenders, and any other possible garment. You also knew how fit he was because you'd seen him once in a while in casual clothes, when he went to the police station to pick up something he'd forgotten or even helping you and Jake, as deputy boss, who stayed late solving the case you were working on together.

You knew that. But seeing it up close seemed to be even bigger than usual.

"About the misunderstanding on refectory day" every word Jay uttered, he made a point of prolonging the ending just so that the air from his mouth hit your skin. Making you close your eyes and concentrate on the minty breath mixed with coffee.

Your mouth opened to protest, but Jay – not knowing where the courage had come from – brought one of his hands to your waist to press your body against his. This kept you quiet for a few seconds, even if he had intended to shut you up in some other way. And he wanted to. He would.

Jay leaned in close enough for you to feel his warm lips brushing against yours. One more little impulse and you'd press your lips to his, feel even more of the minty coffee breath in your mouth. Your hands circle his chest until they meet the collar of his dress shirt.

And with that, Jay knew it was time to move on and finally press his lips to yours.

"Holy fuck, Heeseung!" the bang of the door together with Jake's shout made you and Jay separate quickly.

Not because you were caught almost kissing, but because Jake's scream had startled you both.

"I didn't know it was this break room" he almost cried "Oh my God, forgive me."

"I'm going to kill you" Jake kept shouting "Sorry, guys. You two… Can you…" he looked between you and Jay, his hand still on your waist and you keeping your hand against his chest "Go on…"

"Did you even kiss?" Heeseung asked.

"Both of you, out. Now!" you could see Jay's authoritative tone, but with a hint of playfulness as he tried to hold back his laughter when he saw his two friends, wide-eyed, rush to close the door to the restroom and get out of there as quickly as they had entered.

He looked at you again, smiling broadly as you mirrored his smile.

"How about we go downstairs? They probably haven't even left the hall and I don't want them getting in our way again" you said.

"If you promise me we can pick up where we left off afterwards."

"When?" you turned to Jay as he picked up your things from the table, you walked to the chair on the other side of the room to get your coat.

"I think we're staying late tonight and, well, I can't let you go home alone, can I?"

"Maybe I'll skip Stella's ride" you shrugged.

"I'd love that" he smiled, moving closer and leaving a kiss on the top of your head. Handing you the cup of juice and taking the case envelope, Jay opened the door just as Heeseung and Jake were leaning over it, almost falling into the room and on top of the boss when he took a step forward.

"Jay! Y/n!" Jake greeted the two of you. Jay stared at you for a second, then looked at the two of you right in front of him.

"I'm the one who's going to kill you two" he gritted his teeth and put his hand on his waistband, where his holster would be. Jake and Heeseung didn't even want to check, just running down the corridor and shouting for Jay not to do anything. He also ran after his friends shouting a few curses, while you stayed behind to turn off the lights and close the door.

You always looked forward to leaving work, even when you were working overtime. But today, in particular, was the day you most wanted to leave in company.

You wondered how you could live so long without having Jay's lips on yours. Or how you managed to survive without feeling every touch, or how easily you woke up and went to sleep without having him in your bed?

The answers came little by little over the two months since the first kiss you two shared, in his car, when he drove you home late at night. Maybe not just a kiss and you knew Stella would freak out when you told her you had sex with Jay in the back seat of his car. But if she shared things about Heeseung and herself, it was your turn too.

You feared that things would cool down, or that you and he would feel so overwhelmed with work that you wouldn't want to keep what you were having.

No labels, not a single statement.

The most that came out of each other's mouths was "I like you, you know that?" and then a smile so silly that neither of you wanted to intensify it. For fear that everything was going so well and it could simply be ruined.

Or for you, who had never felt like this and fallen in love with someone.

"So this is what it's like to be in love?" you asked Heeseung dreamily when you were both in the break room. A week before the case you shared with Jay's department closed.

Having in-depth conversations with him was better than with Stella because with her you were a little afraid. She seemed like a protective mother and was sure to tell you all the pros and cons of being in love.

It was also difficult for Jay to know that he was in love, even more so after everything he had experienced so far.

"I don't want to hurt her" he sighed, resting his head in his hands and closing his eyes tightly.

"You won't" Jake assured his best friend "You've finally managed to fall in love again and I'm glad it's someone like you."

"Why?" he asked, looking at his best friend.

"Because she looks after you and cares" he said "And because she treats your friends well, that's enough, don't you think?"

Jay knew it was because Yuri had never been very nice to Jake. So small attitudes counted, there was no comparison between the two of you, he knew there was no reason to be afraid. But he also knew that he needed to find a moment in which he could say what he felt.

He wanted the security of knowing that you were in love too. And you wanted him to feel good and safe being around someone else after the enormous trauma he'd been through.

The two of you – without knowing it – silently shared the same care.

"Y/n, Stella" the head of the police station entered the room, dispelling your thoughts and making you focus on the gray-haired man who had just entered. You and your friend stood up, greeting the middle-aged man and smiling as kindly as he did "Are you busy?"

"Never for you, sir" Stella said with a smile.

"Good, I need you two for a day" he said, slowly shifting his gaze between you and Stella "It's a criminal case and I know Heeseung is with Jake, so you're the only two I can trust."

"Perfect, do you want it now?"

Stella's question made the boss agree, leading the two of you out of the room and towards the criminal cases department. You usually left such matters to Heeseung or even another teammate, but seeing your boss call for you and your best friend was really endearing. It meant that he trusted the two of you, chief and deputy chief, to do the job well.

The department was much bigger than the one you and Stella worked in, after all, criminal cases had a large proportion. And investigators could work in any department as long as they were asked to, as was happening now.

"We have a transcribed case and we need you two to take a look at it and try to spot something that the other investigator didn't find" the chief passed the paper to Stella, letting her read it and then pass it on to you.

As soon as she'd finished, her eyes went carefully over the document, listening attentively to her boss and best friend, punctuating a few things with the older man and hearing him agree and add more things that other policemen had discovered too.

"So we have a starting point, that's good" he said after you'd finished reading, nodding to someone behind you and beckoning you to come closer.

"Girls, this is Yuri, the one who wrote the document that you two have just read" this could only be a joke in very bad taste. But no. From the seriousness your boss presented, you knew it was strictly professional.

Stella looked at you quickly, trying not to look so shocked when she faced Yuri first. Just a nod was enough for the greeting.

You, in turn, turned slowly until you were face to face with the woman. She seemed as surprised as you were. Her mouth opened slightly in shock, but as soon as she saw your serious expression, jaw set and misty eyes, Yuri smiled.

"Hi boss. Girls" she greeted.

"Yuri, this is Stella and Y/n, the boss and deputy boss investigators I asked to read the document you wrote" he explained.

"Oh, yes. Stella is the boss" she pointed at her friend "And y/n is the deputy boss who is taking my leftovers and sleeping with my ex-boyfriend?"

"Excuse me?" you knew it was ridiculous to fight for these reasons, but hearing her swear at you gratuitously wasn't on the list of good manners you swore to uphold at work. So when you pushed her against the table as hard as you could, hearing the thud of Yuri's body in the same tone as her loud scream, you knew you were done for.

"Y/n, what's that?" your boss asked, shocked by the reaction.

Stella really was a great boss, or she tried to approach Yuri for fear that you'd end up actually hitting the woman. So she helped her up, seeing that the blow had been really hard.

"I don't tolerate disrespect, boss."

"But we don't tolerate aggression" he was shocked, but he didn't seem angry. He knew his employees so well, especially you – along with Heeseung – that it was almost impossible to see them with their faces closed.

"She won't be working on my case anymore" Yuri's voice was tearful, her eyes watery and her breathing rapid.

"Your case? I'm the deputy boss here, you self-interested bitch."

It was Yuri's turn to try to do the same to you, but Stella was already holding her back and her boss had put himself between the two of you, afraid that something else might happen.

"Stella" he called out.

"Boss" the two of you exchanged places, she held you down to get you out of there while he pulled Yuri away and tried to talk to her.

"I'll meet you in your office in five minutes" he said before your friend could get you out of that department. You felt your blood boil as you cursed Yuri one last time.

"What?" Jake felt the pillow being pressed against his face by Sunoo, listening intently to everything you had said so far.

"Jake, please" you begged, whimpering.

"She told us because if she told Heeseung, he'd scream and Jay would find out" Sunoo recalled.

That's why the three of you were in the break room on the top floor.

Your boss chose to suspend you and Yuri for two weeks. This consisted of no badges, no guns, no holsters and, above all, no going to the police station. You just had to wait for the day to end and then go home and be grounded for two weeks, as Stella said as soon as she had told the story in a more motherly way to the two boys in front of you before going to meet Heeseung and Jay.

"I just need to know what to do to tell him" you paced back and forth in the living room, on the other side of the coffee table.

"When did this happen?" Jake asked.

"Thirty or forty minutes ago, I'm not sure" you said.

"Okay, then" he straightened his arm, glancing at his wristwatch "In ten minutes or so, Jay will know and he'll be shouting down the corridors looking for you."

"Y/n" was Jay's voice. And he sounded extremely angry.

"Maybe less than ten minutes" he tried to joke about the situation, knowing that even though it wasn't funny, it made you let out a quick laugh "Right, I'm not going to let him talk to you now. That won't be good."

"Let's go outside" Sunoo ordered, getting up from the sofa along with Jake.

"Fucking hell!" Jake shouted in fright as Jay opened the door without warning "You need to tell us when you're coming in, there are people who could die of a heart attack."

Jay looked at his best friend, without really answering him, then looked at Sunoo and finally at you.

"We need to talk."

"Now?" you tried to smile, showing all your teeth as you looked at Jake for help.

"Now" he said seriously.

"You know what?" you stood behind Sunoo at all times "I promised Jake I'd help him with some papers, you know."

"Yeah, deputy boss stuff" Jake shrugged.

Jay sighed, massaging the space between his nose and eyebrow with the slight headache he was feeling.

"There's no way you can help him when you're suspended from work for two weeks" he said coldly.

Shit. It was the only quick swear word you could think of, not knowing what to say as you watched Jay ask – almost order – Jake and Sunoo to leave the room.

You wanted to go with them, almost grabbing Sunoo and running past Jay without him being able to stop you, but your two fearful friends ran out of the room and quickly closed the door.

Silence settled in as Jay continued to stand by the door, a long distance from where you were still standing by the coffee table in the break room. He looked around without looking at you for long minutes, perhaps thinking, cursing. You didn't know.

And that was making you more and more anxious. What was he going to fight you for? The fight or because you stood up to his ex? Or because you stood up to his ex by fighting in a way that resulted in your suspension?

What was Jay thinking, anyway?

As if he could read thoughts, while you were thinking about his name, that gaze finally stopped on you. It was loaded with so many things that you couldn't even decipher which was which first, but one of them was fear. Jay seemed afraid of something as he approached you in hurried, persistent steps.

As soon as he stopped right in front of you, he ran his thumb over your cheek and leaned close enough to brush his lips against your forehead.

"What…" you whispered, confused by the sudden change in his behavior.

"I wanted to scare you a little, just like Stella scared me when I found out" he said in the same tone, lowering his lips to kiss yours quickly.

You slapped his arm, causing Jay to laugh as he wrapped his arms around you and finally kissed you once more.

It was slow but intense. Every movement made you sigh against his mouth while the way Jay deepened the kiss made you even more enamored of him. Even more in love and addicted to his touches. He stopped when he needed to catch his breath, not only because he was kissing you, but also because he had run into the living room to find you.

Staying with his forehead against yours, touching the tip of your nose with his, Jay sighed.

"Suspended? Really, y/n?" the tone was playful, but at the same time scolding.

"What? Could she talk the way she talked to me?" you asked, slightly offended at still remembering what she had said.

Jay shook his head, tightening his arms even more around your waist.

"She couldn't" he replied, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He wanted to say it without having to look you in the eye, so maybe close to your ear would be a good idea, so you could hear him and he wouldn't have to interrupt "I was just afraid."

You knew him well, how strange. He really was afraid.

"Afraid of what?" you tried to get him to look at you, but every time he moved, Jay sank his face further into your neck, sniffing your skin and whimpering that he wanted to stay there.

"Afraid she'd ruin anything I was thinking of having with anyone" he said, his voice muffled because he'd kissed your skin "Afraid she'd interfere with my relationship in some way" Jay whispered, sliding his arms around your waist so that his hands could take that spot. His fingers lightly squeezed the spot as he let all the air out of his lungs, raising his head and finally facing your gaze "I was afraid she'd manage to take you away from me because…"

The intensity in your gaze and your slightly accelerated breathing indicated that you were waiting for the answer. And Jay knew it. He knew you wanted to hear it as much as he wanted to say it.

"Because I'm in love with you, y/n. And I think that finally, after finding something good in my life, I was afraid that it would ruin everything."

"Say it again" you insisted.

"What? That I'm scared?" Jay asked confused.

"That you're in love with me, idiot" you rolled your eyes, laughing along with him.

Jay moved a little closer, distributing slow kisses all over your face until he finally reached your lips.

"Me, Park Jongseong, I'm in love with you, y/n."

Your shrug was the cutest thing he'd ever seen, accompanied by a low chuckle as you slowly kissed his lips.

"Me, y/n, I'm in love with you too, Park Jongseong" you whispered against his lips, laughing even harder when he seemed to relax his whole body and drop the weight from his shoulders.

"That's so nice to hear" he said before kissing you for real.

With intensity, tongues intertwined and hands where they could hold each other. Without too much fuss because they were in the break room at the police station, and because Jay had the impression that the kiss would be interrupted at some point. He just didn't want to be so sure when he heard the door open, forcing him to separate from you quickly.

"Oh, you two are in there… Kissing" Jake shouted the last part as if he needed to say it and it was code for something.

Maybe it was, considering that Heeseung appeared soon after, along with Sunoo and Stella at the door of the room.

"Kissing means you two aren't fighting, right?" Sunoo asked. Jay looked at you and, with a mutual nod, you both agreed.

"So does that mean we can go out and celebrate y/n's suspension?" Jake hummed.

Jay gave you one more quick kiss on the lips before pulling away, putting his hands on your waist, and looking at his friends.

"Stella, are you wearing your holster?" he asked, putting his hands on his waist.

"Yes, I am" she pointed to the accessory, showing the gun stored there too.

"How many bullets do you have?"

"I think I have five left" she replied, unable to contain her laughter when Jay said it.

"Perfect, I only need three!"

"Baby…" Heeseung whined to Stella as he was the first to run, followed by Sunoo who was screaming along with Jake.

Jay passed the girl at the door without even touching the gun, only to scare them off as he ran after his friends.

"Come on, we're having dinner at the Japanese restaurant tonight" she said to you after she waited for you to approach, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as you left the restroom.

For so long, neither you nor Jay thought you could find happiness inside that police station. Jay, for obvious reasons. You, for never having experienced it.

But just like work, everyday life wasn't planned at all and sometimes unforeseen events arose. Cases arriving on your desk in the middle of the day, or two or three suspects you hadn't paid attention to. Even someone with a gun in an operation that Jay was taking part in.

Or, on top of that, an unexpected love interest in the department next door.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[14buddy22]

Hey if you're looking for Hotch requests, what about Hotch dealing with a crush on a non-bau sunshine reader when he's still sad after the divorce/Foyet but he's so confused by his feelings because it's been so long that he doesn't know what's going on??

Like if it's case related, maybe he thinks reader is a suspect because why else would he be so on edge around her and it's just so painfully obvious to everyone else. Idk if that makes sense but I just think Hotch being so out of touch with his emotions despite being a profiler would be funny lol

Feel free to adapt and make it your own!! Thanks!!

Thanks for your request! I hope it lives up to your expectation!

You were the best damn bartender in Quantico, Virginia. At least, that's what you thought to yourself. You made work fun. You worked in a club environment so if you wore something scandalous, flirted with the customers a bit, you were sure to bring in a hefty tip at the end of the night.

But, you loved the hustle and bustle of it. You loved the interactions, loved singing along to the bands or the good music. You loved having conversations with the locals, loved celebrating parties for kids turning 21, people getting married, or hell, people getting divorced.

Then you met who you swore is your soulmate. Something in you stilled when you were bartending. You never froze up at your job. You were good at what you do. But seeing him walk through that door, looking all handsome in a suit, he took your breath away. You watched how he interracted with the bouncer.

You watched him show his badge to your best friend. FBI. An average Joe wouldn't just waltz into your bar, you knew he was a sophisticated man.

But when he locked eyes with you, you felt like the bar had heated up 100 degrees. Making his way over to you, you were trying to calm down. What had you feeling like this?

"Hi, I'm Agent Hotchner with the Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI. It's my understanding from the gentleman at the front that you are the lead bartender?"

You finished making your drink for one of the locals and asked your partner to manage the bar. Luckily it was early evening and the college kids had about another hour before they started flooding in so you knew you'd be okay leaving her by herself.

"Yes, I'm Y/n Y/L/N. It's nice to meet you. How can I help you?"

You shook his hand, and you swore you both held it for longer than you both intended.

All I could think was that she was beautiful. No, no, I can't think like that. My wife, ex-wife was brutally murdered a little over a year ago. Something's different talking to her, to-Y/n. Something I haven't felt in a while but I don't know what it is.

She's a bartender. I hear she's a damn good one. Maybe that's why she's about to be the suspect in a string of murders. Men have been killed shortly after they leave this bar. Traces of posion have come back on the tox screen. Bartenders have access to the drinks and alcohol before they serve, y/n's the perfect suspect.

But she's beautiful, and I haven't seen her stop smiling at all. She has a gorgeous smile. She'd be the sunshine on the rainiest days for the men that have been murdered. Before I know it, my thoughts and feelings consumed me, I'm still holding her hand. I could feel Dave's eyes burning a hole into me.

"Have you heard about the three men murdered around town?"

"Yeah, I have. It's very unfortunate. They were great men. At least to me. They tipped well and always had friendly conversations. They also stood up for me if some men coming in here for the first time were getting a little handsy with me."

Oh how I wished I could be the one to make sure no one got handsy with her. Wait, what am I saying? She's a suspect, she doesn't know it, but she is.

"How were they killed?"

Agent Hotchner's partner spoke up to answer your question.

"They were poisoned."

Ugh, these poor men. Had to die a slow pain, they didn't deserve it. They deserved justice now.

"We just wanted to come in to see if anything unusual has happened lately."

"I've seen a lot of crime shows with my ex-boyfriends before. You're really trying to see if I did it. Which I didn't. I don't think I have the heart to kill anyone. I broke up with my last ex because he hunted and I couldn't bare the thought of killing animals."

Of course you broke up with your ex because of that. But I have a job to do and I have to investigate further. Plenty of killers have lied straight to my face before.

"We'll be in touch Ms. Y/l/n, thank you for your time."

You smiled and shook their hands one last time before you went back to working your shift. Something about Aaron caught my eye. Maybe it's the way he was blushing like a school boy. You're not sure, but he was handsome.

Just when Aaron walked into the bar, you smiled at him, offering him a drink.

"Agent Hotchner, it's good to see you again."

Your smile never waivered. Maybe you would shoot your shot with him.

I can't believe I have to do this. Arrest someone this pretty. Arrest this girl who Rossi thinks I have feelings for. What? Feelings? That's an intense word, but I have to arrest her.

"Unfortunately I'm here to place you under arrest."

I watched all the color drain from her face. I watched her smile fall so fast. But it had to be her. Rossi and the team wasn't so sure, but I have a gut feeling it's her. Of course with it being my team, they weren't going to stop me. I took her sunshine away.

"Agent Hotchner, I, I didn't do anything."

Your manager saw what was going on, he was like your work dad. He took care of you like his daughter, despite him having sons, he treated you like his princess. You heard him say say, "Y/n, I'm getting you a lawyer, do not speak. I know you didn't do this. But I'll meet you where they're taking you."

You smiled back at him, tears filling your eyes. You wanted to make everyone happy, you never wanted to hurt anyone. How are you being arrested? You didn't do anything wrong.

Your ride back in Aaron's SUV was silent. How could you think he was your soulmate? Your soulmate would never arrest you. But you were still feeling something, you couldn't explain it.

I keep looking in the rearview mirror at her. I had to trust my gut. She poisioned those men. But why do I feel so guilty arresting her. From the time we had met her, been surveillencing her, up until I placed the handcuffs on her, she had smiled. Everyone spoke highly of her. I took away her sunshine. I did that.

As you walked into an interrogation room, Aaron sat you down in the seat, then took off your hand cuffs, handcuffing one hand to the table instead.

"We'll wait for your lawyer, do you need anything?"

"No."

You couldn't even look at him. How could her. You told him you didn't do it.

As I walked out, I was greeted with Penelope. "Sir, she has nothing on her record, not even a speeding ticket. I've looked through her social media posts and everyone spoke so highly of her. Friends were making special post to thank her for being a great friend. She took care of everyone. Sir, I-I know I'm not an agent, but I just can't believe it's her."

Penelope was cut off by my phone ringing, picking it up after viewing the caller I.D.

Morgan said, "Hotch, we got the wrong girl. It's Y/n's bartending partner. I just watcher her slip something into this guy's drink. I'm bringing her in, we can cut Y/n loose. You can be happy now. Y/n's not a killer. What that gut feeling is, is your feelings that you like her Hotch. You haven't felt that since Haley. I know it's been 20 years, but trust me man. Y/n is something special, according to the track record she has. She's the opposite of a killer. She's just the type of sunshine that you and Jack need in your life."

Aaron walked in and said, "I'm sorry, there has been a huge mistake. You are free to go. It was the other bartender you worked with.

"What? There's no way. She's amazing at what she does."

Aaron shook her head and said, "One of my agents was in the bar watching the entire time, he was undercover. He watched her slip something in another man's drink."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you got the right killer. If, if you don't mind, can one of your agents give me a ride home? I don't have my car, obviously."

You didn't know how to feel. You knew you didn't do anything, but was Agent Hotchner always going to have a doubt in his mind that you were a killer?

You got in his car, this time sitting in the front seat. A storm was coming in, you enjoyed the rain and thunder, it calmed you. You two rode in silence, when he dropped you of at your apartment, he walked you up.

When you opened your door, you turned around to thank him, instead that didn't come out.

"I told you I didn't do it, ya know?"

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I. There's something about you, y/n. I thought you were a suspect, but you should've never been one."

As your eyes were red and filled with tears, you looked at the man who you thought was your soulmate, instead, he had ruined you. Yes, you two didn't date, yes, you didn't hook up, but there was something there.

"Well then why the hell did you do this, Aaron? Why arrest me?"

"My ex-wife passed away a year ago. I haven't had feelings for anyone in nearly 20 years. My feelings for you confused me. I didn't know what I was feeling. I didn't know what these feelings were because I've been so out of touch with them. And it took me a minute to realize that these feelings are because I didn't think you were a killer, I thought you were beautiful. I think you're beautiful. But that gut feeling was that I think. I think I've found my soulmate."

As she stepped closer to me, I watched the sunshine fill her eyes again, her smile creeping up her face. God, was she beautiful and amazing, and from her friend's testimonies who I interviewed, she was a down right amazing person. Just the absolute sunshine to be around.

You were going to kiss Aaron. You were glad he figured out his feelings. This was going to be the start of something new. You didn't know what happened to his ex, you'd find out someday. You took the chance. You placed your hands on Aaron's hips and leaned in to kiss him. You were so happy that Aaron felt the same way. How did you know this? He placed his hands on your face and kissed you back like you were the only sunshine he'd ever see again.

[kozachenko]

Here's a digital sketch dump of some pose/anatomy practices and some 2hu doodles, I think from now on if I don't have any big final piece to post, I'll just post sketches I liked that I did digitally (might also reblog some drawings of mine that I want more people to see, maybe idk).

Artist's Notes:

Ok so after the recent Hifuu fanart I did, I've been hoping to experiment more with how I draw faces, how I render, as well as how I stylize things. In some of the earlier sketches I did, I had an idea for a pose that I wanted to try drawing, so I took a ref pic of myself doing said pose (the leaning one btw) and then did a sketch over top of it just to get an idea for the shapes, negative space, and silhouette. After that, I wanted to do some simpler breakdowns of the shapes so I can get better at simplifying the body (these ended up being the bottom right sketches in the post). I also did some experimenting with how to push certain parts of said sketches to create a different body type (via liquify and then a more refined version based on that sketch), as well as figuring out what makes a pose feel natural and not stiff. This was also a bit of a foreshortening practice just so I can get more confident with it, and I ended up using the arms from the liquified version for the coloured Zanmu sketch I did since I liked them so much (dw I'll get to that).

The next thing I wanted to try and draw was Hisami, mainly because.... I am very bad at drawing her in my style. Last time I drew her I made her look really creepy and spindly, and it is my headcanon now that she can switch between a more human, and more creepy look whenever she wants. I'm liking where the face is going a lot, might have to refine a few things about it in the future, but it's cute (I also made the blush purple which I think is what I'm gonna do with her face from now on). I also like how her hair in the sketch turned out a lot, but the outfit..... not as much... Ever since I started changing my style to something less cartoony, I've had a hard time drawing her outfit in my style. Especially the flower veil thing she has on, which, I did try to find a way to draw, but I ended up deleting that sketch because I didn't like it. I'm also not a fan of using the colour purple, like, pure purple, magentas are fine, indigos are fine, but not strict purple. I also have a hard time with drawing all the little pattern details on her dress. I also need to find a way to draw the flower veil in a way that looks good because everytime I try it ends up just looking off (very similar to whenever I try to draw Zanmu's blue spears). I think the only solution to this problem is to do what I normally do and make my own version of the outfit, but with adjustments to suit my style while still trying to keep core elements from the original design intact (like I do with Zanmu and Keiki, and yes I am going to get to that Zanmu drawing just gimme a minute).

Ok next up is Keiki, my favourite Touhou character who I haven't drawn since the beginning of the year. Since my style has changed a lot, I wanted to just do a face sketch of her to get a hang of drawing her again, and I..... really really like how it turned out! When I drew her eyes, I realized that a good way of keeping faces too same facey can be via varying the sizes of their pupils, so that's an idea I'm gonna keep in mind from now on. I had a lot of fun with her hair, I initially was gonna do it like how it is in the official art, but I ended up not liking it, so now I'm gonna draw Keiki with wavy heir like this because it's fun and it looks nice. I also included my base sketch for Keiki's face since I was initially struggling with drawing her bandanna, and in the coloured sketch I added some more detail into her hair.

Now to finally talk about the sketches for Zanmu. Good lord was I having a tough time with her face. I also did this sketch before I figured out how I wanted to draw hair, so that's why the rendering on her hair is different (I did this soon after the Hisami sketch actually). Since I changed my art style a lot, I had to find a way to translate her face from my more cartoony style to my more detailed style, so while the face shape, nose shape and mouth was fine, I was really struggling with the eyes. I did get somewhere eventually though, and I am super happy with how it turned out. I wanted to lean more towards the androgynous side of the gender presentation spectrum, mainly because I think that makes sense for her character. Also made sure to include the silver hairs and some wrinkles just to bring some signs of her aging into her face because those are just staple features of how I draw Zanmu at this point lol. You will also notice that I gave her some scars on the right side of her face, and that's because I am a Zanmu-with-scars truther, I fucking love it whenever I see someone give Zanmu visible scars like that it just adds so much omg (I also tried to put a wolf bite mark on her arm in the full body drawing but idk if it reads well). While you can argue that her not having scars sells the idea of her being this "powerful, untouchable mastermind who is impossible to defeat," I'd say that instead of those scars representing times she got injured, they represent everyone who has failed to defeat her.

As I was drawing Zanmu's face, I referenced my sketch of to help with contrasting their features since I made Keiki's face more traditionally feminine. I also didn't mention this in my commentary on Keiki's face because I wanted to save it for here, but giving Zanmu scars also plays into the fact that she used to be human, wheras Keiki doesn't have any scars because she's a god who doesn't follow the rules of normal human biology. Plus I'm thinking about the two of them interacting again (return of Zan/Keik??? (I'm a multishipper btw) maybe???) so drawing their faces together will definitely help me in the future if I wanna draw them together (again, maybe as a ship? I've kinda been ironing out the kinks in their potential interactions (romantic and non-romantic) for a while now so idk maybe expect that in the future lol).

And now for the full body drawing, when I was doing the face sketch I did this little snippet of an outfit, had a vision, and the made it into a reality. I'll admit, part of me was worried that it would end up looking too much like Yuugi's outfits in the spinoffs and mangas, but I feel like I made enough changes to differentiate them. I tried to keep a few of the major details in Zanmu's design (i.e. the red tassles and yellow lining on her shirt) while putting a new spin on it. I also dialed up the scars to 11 since without them the whole thing kinda looked incomplete. Also, while I could say that the leaves on her kimono are "a nod to the fact that technically she should be a tengu because back then people belived that corrupt monks would turn into tengu but no Zanmu is an oni and they're maple leaves because...tengu...ahahahaha" what really ended up happening was that I looked up clothing patterns from Sengoku era Japan, liked the leaves the most because the red picked up on the red from the rest of her design and just ran with it. I also always had the idea to put Zanmu in men's clothing from Sengoku era Japan and while the accurate thing to do would be to put her in a Buddhist's clothes from that era.... from a character standpoint, I don't think Zanmu is pious enough to strictly wear the proper monk uniform, and also since she's basically the king of Hell, she would probably dress herself like royalty from that era. TBH, I probably could've been a bit more historically accurate, but again, this was mainly for conceptual purposes because I had a vision and I needed to see it through.

If I were to draw her in this sort of outfit again, I should probably try and use more references, although now that I look at it, if she were to wear it properly this would maybe, probably look a bit closer to a Kyūtai sugata (a very huge stretch, but it just kinda reminds me of that) just without the layers under and over the main piece of clothing (In the website that I searched up to try and compare the outfit in my sketch to, they name the outfit pieces but don't label them on the image, so I don't know 100% what everything is called) so I will definitely have to use that style of clothing as a reference going forward.

Also, I was kind of inspired by the ToTK design for Ganondorf since I have finished the game a while ago and I absolutely love what they did with his design (it's just so fucking cool omg) and I thought that sort of look would look good on Zanmu, so yeah got some inspo from that.

And those were all the notes for each of the sketches, I'm motivated to draw rn but kinda art blocked, so doing these little coloured sketches helps a lot.

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Killer | Vox x Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, dead bodies, established relationship (married), HUMAN VOX, NSFW (18+), p in v, slight breeding kink but otherwise vanilla for my first 'smutty' Vox writing, reader is heavily implied to be female, Valentino existing

Word Count: 1.0K

Summary: Your husband came home from work to find a rather interesting sight in his living room. . . Made him wanna do a thing or two. . . Idk 💀✨

A/N — I couldn't not use this gif — I love it. I don't mention him by name until the end because we don't know what his name was while he was alive. . . It could've been Vox in both, but I'm not taking chances, so I used sweet little names instead. . . He also has dark hair and blue eyes in my mind. HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS ONE 💕 (I drew/made the MDNI banner myself — tell me you're proud of me. . . I'm gonna pretend I didn't write this when I wake up tomorrow 😭, but hopefully someone does like it)

Blood dripped from the hand of the body that was carelessly draped across the coffee table, the metallic smelling crimson staining the white rug below.

You stood firmly, hands on your hips as you stared at your husband, who, in turn, stared at the body as if it would suddenly disappear if he looked away.

"You killed her." He stated rather plainly, a glint in his eyes as he turned to look at you in all of your glory — bloodied hands, stained apron tied around your waist, hair tousled, and ripped pantyhose. . . It was odd for him to see you so unkempt. Had he not been your childhood friend turned lover and husband, you might have had something snarky to say in response to his obvious comment.

You hummed, assessing the expanding puddle on the new rug that nearly costed a fortune. "Yes, it seems I have."

"Did she deserve it?"

"They always do." You replied nonchalantly, removing your hands from your hips as you walked towards your husband — silently thanking whatever higher power that the blood on your hands had dried. You pulled him down by his tie and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Welcome home, my love. . . Dinner will be done shortly. It's your favorite."

"I'll handle the mess while you finish up." Came his response.

You smiled as a thank you before going off into the kitchen to wash up the last couple dishes and stir the pot of stew that had been cooking low and slow all afternoon.

Your beloved husband entered the kitchen a bit later, hands coated in dirt and blood with the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.

He stood there for a moment watching you as if you were an animal of prey and he was an apex predator. Your breath hitched when that glint of something familiar returned to his electric blue gaze.

Within a moment, his hands drenched in sticky blood found your face, gently caressing it and leaving trails of the viscoelastic fluid behind as he brought you into a rough yet passionate kiss.

His hands trailed down your clothed body until they reached your thighs. . . With his fingers grasping the plush flesh, he hoisted you onto the counter top.

"Are you certain you want to do this before dinner, Honey?" You asked breathlessly just as his hands fell to his belt buckle, hastily undoing it with the metallic clicks of the silver colored mechanism, the leather falling from the silvery confines.

"No time like the present, Doll." He replied, practically ripping the button from the hole of his perfectly tailored suit pants.

"Carry on, Darling." You hummed.

He bunched up the skirt of your dress before reaching just below and ripping a large hole in the already destroyed pantyhose, all to gain access to the already soaked cotton fabric beneath.

The singular piece of fabric that separated your pussy from the warmed air of the kitchen.

"All mine. . ." He muttered in awe, rubbing the pad of his thumb up and down the large spot of arousal that had formed since he arrived home. You couldn't help it. Your husband was a fine specimen.

You whined at the need for something more; your darling husband only smirked before completely ripping the beloved pair of panties away, tossing them to the floor — he always said he'd get you more, and he always did. His thumb returned, slipping through your glistening folds before gravitating towards the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Need you, Honey, please. . ." Your sweet voice cut through the silence with a whimper at the end — that was all it took for your husband's restraint to fly out the window.

He freed his bulging cock from the confines of his pants and boxers, immediately lining it up with the entrance. With your silent nod of approval, he slowly slid it into your sopping wet pussy.

He grunted as he bottomed out, paired almost perfectly with your moan as you adjusted to his sheer length and girth — it didn't matter how many times the two of you fucked, it was always like the first time.

After a moment he began thrusting and your sweet noises filled the room along with the sound of skin on skin. One of his hands held on to your waist so you wouldn't slip, and the other held on tightly to the counter.

"Taking me so well just like you always do, Doll." He grunted in your ear, his pace picking up as you moaned his name like a prayer on the lips of an angel, your fingers laced in his soft, dark hair.

It wasn't very long before the coil within began to build with pressure until it finally snapped, bringing you to a much needed orgasm that caused you to release your hold on his hair and clench around him, unintentionally milking your husband's cock. He came, painting your insides white, yet his thrusts didn't cease until he felt the very last drop enter you.

He then pulled out slowly, using his thumb to push his seed back inside of you as it tried to escape. "Gonna be a good mother one day, Doll."

"I'll try to be," you replied breathlessly before plastering a smile on your face, as if you didn't get railed in the kitchen by your husband, where your neighbor could've seen. "Dinner?"

"That sounds good, Doll. . . Let's get you cleaned up."

Sixty or so years later. . .

"Remember that time we fucked in the kitchen with a dead body two rooms over because the ground was frozen, so we couldn't dispose of it properly?" You questioned casually at dinner.

Vox looked up from his plate, a smirk falling onto his face. "Which time?"

"Well, this just got interesting." Valentino muttered into his drink, looking between you and Vox.

"When I killed Dorothy, of course."

"Can you not talk about your serial killer sex shit at the table!? I'd like to eat without the imagery." Velvette groaned, sliding her plate back slightly.

"Would you rather listen to Val talk about all the positions he's had his new favorite toy in?" Vox questioned.

"Hey!" Valentino whined.