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kimvvantae · 6 months

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the misadventures list; 5 (m)

➜ the night shift can be very wild at times. you’ve witnessed so many strange, concerning and absurd situations happen inside the tiny convenience store that you could make a long list with everything that got you stunned - and the situation that takes the prize of being the weirdest of your list is the night a desperate millionaire, for the sake of saving his fortune, asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

pairing: playboy!jimin x (f) reader

genre: smut, comedy (?), fluff • fake dating au

warnings: toxic parents. brief mentions of homofobia. alcohol consumption. explicit sexual content (semi-public sex, oral m&f receiving, throat fucking, unprotected sex, praise kink kinda, cum play, dirty talk). made-up celebrities. me trying to be funny i guess

rating: 18+

word count: 20k

A/N: i can't thank you guys enough for waiting for this update! i know it's been a while but i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it!! as always, feedback is MUCH appreciated <3

➜ Chapters: check out masterlist in bio!

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It’s almost 6PM.

Jimin is not happy about it.

The change in his expression as he checks the hour on his phone is subtle, but you see it as clear as day. The smile that remained on his lips and vanished from his eyes. He sighs, putting the phone inside his back pocket, and goes back to saying his goodbyes to everyone at the pier.

It makes you forget for a second that you were in the process of saving your own number on Jane’s phone.

You look down once again, fingers hesitating over the keyboard. Damn. You weren’t supposed to be making friends. Jane is the lesser problem right here - she doesn’t know anyone from Jimin’s family except Jimin himself. The problem is that many of Jungkook’s friends are Jimin’s, too, and they asked for your number or your Instagram. Which, sure, isn’t that big of a deal and isn’t something unpredictable either, but hey, your purpose here is to pretend for just three days. You’re supposed to vanish from Jimin’s life right after it’s over. “Vanishing” doesn’t include making friends with his friends.

“What? You forgot your number?” Jane asks, eyeing you. She’s so drunk that it’s obvious that she’s not seeing you really.

“Yeah, I’m… a little dizzy.” You chuckle awkwardly. That’s a lie, though - you’re not drunk in the slightest. As soon as you noticed that alcohol was making you act weird, you stopped with the cocktails and drank as much water as possible to dissipate it from your system (so much pee). Going to the Park’s private concert drunk is out of question.

Giving in, you type your real number on her phone and hand it back to her. Jane smiles.

“I’m so glad that we met, Y/N! You’re such a great person! For real, like, you have a nice vibe!” Jane says excitedly. Yeah, definitely drunk. “We should meet again before the trip is over!”

It won’t be possible, of course. You’re not free to do whatever you want. But you nod anyway, hoping she won’t remember anything later. “Sure, let’s go out!”

Your little chat is interrupted by Jungkook calling everyone for a group photo. As soon as everyone starts gathering in a spot, you feel Jimin’s hand resting on your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His grip is warm and gentle and heat spreads from the spot he touches. His hair is kind of a mess right now, yet he still manages to look cute. Jimin doesn’t say anything, just sends you a small smile before posing for the camera.

A few clicks later, he leans over to say quietly in your ear: “We really have to go now.”

You nod. Both of you still have to get ready for the concert in a few hours. As Jimin explained, up until now, only his parents’ closest friends arrived; tonight, though, is when the real people will arrive. Not causing a good impression on them is not an option.

You start to make your way out of there, in the midst of saying goodbye to the people you walk past (consciously ignoring the vultures that were around Jimin, though. You ain’t acting nice to them at all). As you both walk past Jungkook, Jimin puts his hand over the younger’s shoulder and sends him a warning gaze.

“You better sober up,” he says. Jungkook only opens a carefree smirk in response.

“C’mon, I’m not even that drunk yet. Don’t worry.” You’re not so sure about that, though; there’s something kind of psychotic about his silly smile. “See you guys later!”

Instead of arguing, Jimin just sighs.

And finally, you’re walking away from the pier.

It’s quieter now, which honestly is such a relief. The temperature started to cool down a bit. The sun has already disappeared behind the horizon line, yet the sky is still clear, painted in beautiful shades of orange, yellow and pink. You just walk in silence, hands behind your back, feeling a little funny. Since you stayed a long time in the water, it feels as if your body is still floating. It’s been a while since you felt this way.

“Jimin, I wanted to ask you a question…” you say quietly after a while.

After not getting a response, you frown and look around. Jimin isn’t beside you.

He’s a few steps behind, holding his phone to eye level.

“What are you doing?”

Jimin smiles. “Registering the moment.”

You quirk one eyebrow up and walk back to where he stands, a little bit confused. Jimin lets you see his phone for a second.

Your jaw drops.

You stand at the very center of the photo he took, your back turned to him, hair swaying with the wind. The beautiful sight of the evening sky serves as an astonishing background, the last beams of sunlight framing your figure beautifully. It’s breathtaking. He made such a trivial moment become something incredible with a single shot.

“What the hell?!” You exclaim, astonished, making Jimin chuckle. “You’ll send me this, right? This has to go on my Instagram feed!”

“Nope.” He says in a cocky manner, sticking his phone to his chest so you can't see it anymore. “I’m gatekeeping this one.”

“Aw, come on! That’s not fair!” You cross your arms and frown at him. "What are you going to do with this photo anyway?"

"It's my lockscreen already." His eyebrows shoot up in a playful expression. "What makes me remember, you should change yours, too. Why didn't we change it before? Such an amateur mistake!" He swiftly takes your phone from your hand and opens the front camera.

"What are you doing-?"

You gasp softly when Jimin pulls you by the waist, sticking your body to his. "Smile, pretty!"

His act was so sudden that you, indeed, end up cracking a genuine smile - at the same moment his lips touch your cheek tenderly.

Click.

Jimin steps away and smiles proudly at the photo. "We look like a real couple here. Come on, set it as your lockscreen."

You take the phone back from his hand, feeling a little dizzy.

Oh well.

You literally made out with him in front of everyone just a few hours ago, in the middle of the ocean. Why does the chaste kiss he planted on your cheek still makes your face burn? Is it because now you're alone, not having to pretend to be a couple anymore, that his act felt much more intimate? But… there was no one else around during your first kiss at the beach, either.

It's because you're head over heels for him already.

You shake your head frantically as if to yank these thoughts away from your head. No no no. I'm not falling that easily. I'm a cold hearted bitch. I'm just flattered because he's cute and hot and rich, but it'll go away. Right?

"Yeah, right." You mumble.

"What?" Jimin quirks one eyebrow up.

"What?" You freeze, realizing that you voiced your thoughts out loud. "I-I mean- I want to ask you something."

"Oh." He puts his hands behind his back and starts walking again. You follow him shortly. "What is it?"

You munch the inside of your cheek nervously. "You can not tell me if you don't want to. But… what happened earlier today? That family meeting, I mean. Is there anything I need to know?"

The carefree glint in his eyes immediately disappears. Jimin looks down at his feet. "Oh."

An uncomfortable silence settles between you, only the sounds of the ocean and voices from the other people at the pier lingering. It makes you regret making that question as soon as the words leave your mouth. "You really don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You say hesitantly after a few seconds.

"No, it's alright." Jimin reassures, but he's still staring at his feet. He sighs and shakes his head. It's so painful to see him sulking this way whenever his family is mentioned… "Basically, they called me to say that Eunbi's parents are pissed about us."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really?" You came prepared to be hated by Jimin's parents, but Eunbi's as well? Shit. As if one billionaire middle aged couple of enemies wasn't enough.

"Really." Jimin nods. You have finally reached the stairs that lead to the street level. This pier is within the resort's property, actually, so you're not that far from the bungalows, and the main building is just a few streets ahead. "They came thinking that the engagement was already settled. Without asking for our opinions, you know. They think that bringing you here is disrespectful to their daughter."

"Oh." You knit your eyebrows. "So… they don't care if you're in an actual relationship. They'd want you to break up so you can get married to someone you barely know… even if you weren't aware of the engagement?"

"Yep. That's exactly how they think." He sighs heavily.

You go up the stairs in silence. Your brain is working furiously. "This won't put you into real trouble, right?"

Jimin chuckles. "Y/N, the whole point of bringing you here was to put me in trouble. I want to stress them. Just don't worry too much, okay? Worrying will give you wrinkles, and you have to look wonderful tonight."

You're finally standing on the sidewalk, where one of the Park family butlers already waits to take you both back to the bungalow (he's wearing a short sleeved dress shirt, at least. Poor butlers, having to wear suits in the summer!). Your stomach twirls in nervousness. Spending the afternoon so freely made you forget for a bit your actual purpose here.

"You go without me, pretty. I'll get ready at Jungkook's place."

You turn to him, frowning in a confused expression. "What? Why?"

The happy gleam in his eyes comes back slowly as he steps closer. "I already explained that today is a little more serious, right? More guests arrived, we have to impress people… so I hired a team to take care of you. Hairstylist, makeup artist and stuff. They're already waiting for you."

"Oh." You feel your face burning for some reason. It should be expected of him to do something like that - even obvious, since all the socialites attending are probably getting the same treatment - but still, you can't help but feel a little flustered. "Okay." You change the weight of your body from one leg to another nervously. "So… see you later, I guess?"

Jesus Christ.

He's doing it again.

Standing directly in front of you with his hands behind his back, a mysterious lip tightened smile and mischief in his eyes, watching your every movement with amusement. If your face was hot a few seconds ago, now your entire body is feverish. Will you ever get used to this? The things Jimin makes you feel without even touching you are kind of amazing. Imagine when he actually touch you the way you want the most-

Hey, pervert. Stop.

"I think I've said this a hundred times already… but it's kinda rude to just stand and stare at people." You say, eyebrows knitted - but you can't manage to sound annoyed at all.

Jimin smirks.

"I want to kiss you."

You're so taken aback that your eyes widen.

"Huh?"

"Don't huh at me." He steps even closer - so close that you feel the heat emanating from his body. He rests his hand in the junction of your jaw and your neck, spreading even more heat from that spot. You don't push him away. All this heat is going to make you melt like a popsicle. "Don't try to look innocent right now. You shoved your tongue in my throat not long ago, missy."

You giggle, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I already said… I was just method acting."

"Hmm." Jimin nods slowly, biting his bottom lip. The sight makes you weak on the knees. "Sure. So, me kissing you right now means I'm method acting because one of the butlers is watching and we can't look suspicious around them, okay? Because they're my parents' eyes and ears, okay? Not because I want to kiss you." His voice gets lower as he leans in, a faked innocent expression that has you smiling and melting at the same time. "Just to make it clear so there's no misunderstanding. Okay?"

"Okay." You nod.

"Good. I'd hate if you got it all wrong."

Your giggle is muffled by his lips on yours.

Your hands instinctively rest on each side of his waist, while he cups your face with both hands. Oh God… his plump lips are addicting. This kiss is slower and somehow more peaceful than the one you shared in the sea, but it makes your heart race and your senses go crazy nevertheless. Your lips move slowly, in sync with his. You can feel him smiling within the kiss, which causes your knees to feel even weaker.

He breaks the kiss not too long after, aware that you're standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but not taking his hands off of you. Yet again, he bites his bottom lip, analyzing your features carefully. "Hari will be there. You'll have a lot of territory to mark. Be ready."

You throw your head back, laughing. "Sure. You really are enjoying this way too much, huh?"

"I am. Why wouldn't I?" He confesses cheekily, shrugging. He pecks your lips one last time, lingering for a little longer, before finally letting you go. "See you later, pretty."

"See you."

You hope that Jimin doesn't notice that your legs kind of forgot how to walk as you distance yourself from him towards the butler. Because yes, you feel like a poor popsicle melting under the scorching Hawaiian sun. The sun has Jimin's face, which makes you remember the Teletubbies for some reason, earning a quiet giggle from you. The butler eyes you as if you're crazy.

Maybe you are getting crazy.

But to be honest - this insanity is sweeter than any popsicle you could ever taste.

As a kid, you always fantasized about being Mia from The Princess Diaries. Call it escapism if you want - fantasizing about a perfect life while yours was awful - but it was a dream of yours. Imagine: finding out your grandmother is a queen? Going from a regular loser to a crown princess? Who wouldn't want that?

You haven't thought of that movie in years. Now, as you stand in front of the mirror, it suddenly pops up in your head. Yes, Mia's iconic "transformation" scene.

Except you didn't think you were ugly before, which means right now, you're feeling like a literal goddess.

Maybe that's why God didn't make me rich, you think. Maybe he knew if I looked like this on a daily basis, I would be the most unbearable human being in this world.

"Did you like it?" The hairstylist, Christine, asks, eyeing you expectantly.

If I liked it?! I look like the hottest bitch you'll ever see in your life!

But instead of letting everyone see your God complex, you just nod and smile politely. "I loved it!"

Your eyes focus on the mirror again.

Jimin suggested you'd both wear black tonight as an evil joke. Traditionally, the dinner followed by the private concert is a more "informal" event, so everyone should dress accordingly with colorful outfits (you're in Hawaii, after all). Let's wear black. It represents me grieving my freedom, he said jokingly at the mall. You chuckled and thought he was being dramatic back then, but after everything you've witnessed for the past 48 hours, you realize that Jimin wasn't really joking when he said that.

The Yves Saint Lauren dress you two picked is quite simple: a short, strapless and sleeveless dress with a straight neckline. It's perfectly balanced between sexy and elegant: it enhances your curves the right amount, not enough to be considered vulgar by the aunties. Although it's strapless, it doesn't squeeze your boobies up so the uncles won't get "distracted" (ew). It's so simple but fits your body so well that you can't help but stare at your own reflection in awe. Simple black Givenchy sandals complete the outfit.

Being a (poor) fashion enthusiast, this whole experience is like heaven to you. One thing is to see new collections and judge new trends; another completely different thing is to get to wear a piece from a high fashion house. It's not only about prices and status. This dress is so well cut and woven that it seems to be alive, as if it knows where to be tight and where to be loose.

Doing your own makeup and hair was never a problem and you could do a pretty good job by yourself, but professionals doing it is on another level. Christine styled your hair back, carefully parting it and tucking it behind your ears, so your face is highlighted. Marco (the makeup artist) made your skin look impeccable, as smooth as baby butt cheeks (it's crazy how makeup can lie, huh?); the winged eyeliner, albeit simple, enhances the natural shape of your eyes. The lashes are subtle and make your eyes appear bigger. He completed the look by placing tiny little glitter dots under the waterline, one for each eye, so they kinda look like shiny tears (you suggested it, by the way, being carried away by the whole "grieving" concept. Talk about drama). He chose a lipstick color close to the natural color of your lips, making them appear shiny, plump and healthy.

And finally - the jewelry.

Mr. Zhou arrived at the bungalow a few minutes ago, carrying a leather, medium sized suitcase. You greet each other politely. Jimin texted saying that he would bring the jewelry you'd wear tonight - and you were anxious all along, because while you planned the outfits, he had already said you'd wear jewelry, but he didn't tell which jewelry; didn't show a single photo of what you'd wear, simply asked you to trust him. Although you learned to trust his fashion sense pretty fast, you don't like surprises at all. What if it's something extravagant that would ruin the look?

"Mr. Jimin picked those pieces from the Park jewelry collection himself," Mr. Zhou explains as he puts white gloves on (oh shit - this is so expensive that he has to wear gloves to touch it?!). "He said they would suit you fine - and I agree."

The chief butler opens the suitcase and takes the biggest black velvet case from inside, opening it.

It takes all of your self control not to gasp.

It's a gorgeous diamond necklace (yes, diamonds, fucking real diamonds!); it looks like a thick chain, actually, and at the center of it, sits a bigger emerald (yes, an emerald, a fucking real emerald!). Inside the box there are also subtle emerald earrings framed by tiny diamonds; since the necklace is already too much, the earrings have to be subtle to accompany them.

“I present you The Serpent’s Eye.” Mr. Zhou explains eloquently. “Tiffany & Co., designed by Paloma Picasso and acquired by the Park family in 2006.” He takes the necklace from the velvet case carefully. "If you'll allow me…"

"Of course." You say, turning around and facing the mirror again - but you do so hesitantly, because being the fashion enthusiast you are, you recognize the name Paloma Picasso, and the fact that you’re about to have one of her original designs around your neck scares you. You’ve been very well aware that every piece of clothing you wear is worth thousands, but these pieces must be worth much more than everything else combined.

Mr. Zhou stands behind you and places the necklace around your neck, the cool touch of metal and diamonds making you shiver. The necklace sits just above your collarbones. The name of the design is understandable - it indeed resembles a small snake tangled around your neck. He also helps you put the small earrings on.

Finally, Mr. Zhou steps aside.

"You look astonishing, Miss. Y/N," he says, and honestly, he sounds like he means it.

Yeah, I do, it’s what you want to say - but instead, you say “Thank you.”

It’s exactly what Jimin intended: elegance. If you’re too extravagant, his parents would hate it, and it’d make you look cheap no matter how expensive your clothes actually are. If it’s too simple, it’d look like you have no fashion sense. This look is the perfect balance. Your natural beauty is the focus, everything else just meant to highlight you.

You look like a celebrity.

You look like them. Like someone’s rich daughter. And yes, it’s conflicting, because you never wanted to look like them - but you can’t deny that you like what you see in the mirror.

You understand Jimin better now. Of course - he's an old money child, he doesn't know any lifestyle other than this. You're just having a little taste of what this life is. Yet, you can understand why he's so desperate to not lose his portion of the Park family fortune. Who wouldn't want to live such a lavish life? Who wouldn't want to look their absolute best at any opportunity, to wear clothes worth thousands just because they can?

Mr. Zhou looks at the watch on his wrist. “Now that you’re ready, I should take you to the event hall as soon as possible.”

“Am I late?” You ask in a worried tone.

“Fashionably late. I’m sure everyone will understand. It takes time to look your best.” Mr. Zhou reassures. Why is he being so nice today? “I will wait for you outside, Miss Y/N.”

You nod. As Christine and Marco pack their things, you don’t forget to thank them over and over again for their wonderful job. They seem like pretty nice people, actually, and you'd like to get to know them better, but you have no time to. Two other butlers will assist their exit. You take the small black clutch that literally can only fit your phone and a small lipgloss before walking out of the bungalow where Mr. Zhou already waits.

No golf car today. Instead, that same Mercedes Maybach from yesterday is parked outside. Mr. Zhou politely opens the door for you and helps you get inside the car before taking his place on the driver's seat.

Another wave of nervousness hits your stomach as he turns the car on and finally starts making his way towards the hall - a separate building within the hotel's property, sitting in front of the ocean, not far from the pier. The ride will take probably 5 minutes. You exhale heavily, checking yourself again with the front camera, before tapping Jimin's contact.

you: i'm coming

He replies almost instantly:

jimin: waiting for you outside

Oh. You didn't think he'd already be there. You put the phone inside the clutch again and look out the window, chewing the inside of your cheek.

"Are you nervous, Miss Y/N?" Mr. Zhou asks out of sudden, snapping you back to reality. He keeps the formal tone; his voice is soothing.

"A little bit, I'll admit." You say with a lip tightened smile.

"Tonight, you'll be meeting Jimin's parents' close friends and allies from other companies." He continues. He always speaks as if he's picking his words carefully. "It's quite important to them. It's not just a celebratory event, you see… they reassure their place within society and business today."

You frown slightly.

Mr. Zhou never talked this much. Although he keeps that formal persona, you see that he's trying to tell you something very specific, just avoiding the direct words to do so.

And yes, you get the message.

"You don’t need to worry, Mr. Zhou.” You say, crossing your arms, your expression hardening like stone in seconds. “I won’t embarrass the Park family in front of their friends.”

You see the butler nodding. “You’re smart.” He remarks. “Intelligence is important if you want to be accepted in the family.”

I would never in a million years want to be part of this family, you think. Instead, you just gulp and grip your arms, trying to ease the growing anger.

Finally, he parks in front of the events building. Yet, instead of immediately going out - and stopping you from opening the door yourself, since you’re already annoyed, Mr. Zhou turns around on his seat to look at you directly.

His expression is serious.

“I don’t want you to take my words badly, Miss Y/N.” He says in a quiet, yet stern voice. “I have been watching over this family even before Jimin was born. I know each of them very well, and I know how dysfunctional they are. When I say you have to be smart around them and watch yourself very carefully, I don’t say it to belittle you; I say it because I know what they would be capable of doing if you offend them somehow.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” You lean forward a bit, getting defensive. “Did they tell you to threaten me?”

“No.” His voice and expression don’t change despite your obvious outrage. “I am warning you because I see that you’re not quite aware of the type of people you’re dealing with. And because you seem like a respectable young lady.” Mr. Zhou’s eyes soften a bit. “I see that Jimin likes you a lot. I’m not quite sure of what your relationship with him really is, and I’d be happy if it’s genuine, because he really needs it in his life. But I know Jimin very well…” Mr. Zhou tilts his head to the side, frowning a bit. “...and I’d hate it if you're somehow harmed because of his immaturity.”

He sends a last significant gaze before finally opening the door.

You just have these short seconds to recover your breath before he opens the door for you. Shit. What he said actually gets you. Call it naivety or whatnot - but you didn’t stop to consider that Jimin’s parents are actually powerful people that could mess up your life if you annoy them enough. But… Jimin wouldn’t have asked for your help if he knew his parents would try anything serious against you, right?

Mr. Zhou knows Jimin better than you do and he just called him immature.

Oh shit.

The butler opens the door and offers his hand for you to walk out of the car. Now, you’re not just nervous - you’re worried.

Thankfully, the temperature dropped - it's still considerably hot, but much more comfortable than hours ago. You stand up, inhaling the fresh nightly air, and look at the gigantic building in front of you. Important events happen here quite frequently. Large marble stairs lead to the entrance of the hall. There is a gathering of women and men dressed elegantly slowly making their ways inside, greeting each other politely as they walk in, as well as many security guards. You stand on the sidewalk and nervously look around, searching for Jimin.

You spot him before he spots you.

He's standing at the corner, kind of hidden, close to the first steps, absently checking his phone. You already knew what he would be wearing tonight, but to see him in the outfit makes your brain malfunction.

Obviously, Jimin wears all black: a silk turtleneck under a black glitter Louis Vuitton blazer that fits him marvelously. The turtleneck is tucked into the dress pants. On his feet, leather black boots. His hair is pushed back, a single strand falling on his forehead, and he uses a pair of shades to complete the look. Instead of the usual dangly earrings, he wears small hoops tonight that match the outfit very well. Once again, you're left astonished at how this man is doing basically nothing - just standing there with one of his hands tucked inside the front pocket of his pants, checking his phone with a blank expression - but Gosh, he's gorgeous. His posture is perfect: he has the elegance of a swan, the grandeur of an eagle, and the confident gaze of a tiger about to slash you to pieces. In fact, he looks so good that you even forget the short talk you had with Mr. Zhou a minute ago.

It takes him around three seconds to lift his gaze from the phone and spot you.

It's funny, because you see the exact moment he freezes.

The shades slide down the bridge of his nose. He looks at you with slightly widened eyes and parted lips. It's like he's in shock.

Then, a smile breaks its way and lightens his face.

Jimin shoves the phone inside the pocket of his pants and rushes to you in a second. Nervousness bubbles within your stomach at every step he takes. It doesn’t help that he walks with the stance of a model - he’s definitely doing this on purpose. Handsome men that know they are handsome are the most dangerous type. Jimin is not only very well aware of his appearance, he uses it to his advantage all the time.

And when he stops in front of you, checking you out from head to toe - it’s like you can’t even breathe.

It’s a different feeling from yesterday. There’s no playfulness in his eyes at all. Only that same electricity hanging in the air you felt earlier today at the yacht - when you sat on his lap, when you kissed. This electricity is getting more and more intense, it’s like you’ll start seeing sparks around you at any moment. Fuck, he didn’t even touch you yet. You don’t know how much longer you can resist…

Honestly, you’re not sure if you want to keep resisting at this point.

Jimin takes your hand and makes you twirl around, earning a soft giggle from you. He bites his bottom lip, that mischievous smirk making you feel weak on the knees.

“Just so you know,” he says in a low voice, putting his hand on your waist, “If I make a fool of myself in front of everyone, I’m blaming you. Because I won’t be paying attention to anything else tonight.”

You giggle again, tentatively touching the lapel of his blazer. It’s beautifully embroidered with circular patterns; you can only see them if you stand close enough, though. Your sight lingers on his lips (for long seconds; they’re so plump and glossy and delicious) before you look into his eyes again. “I could say the same thing, Mr. Park.”

Jimin’s smirk widens and he tilts his head to the side. “I knew The Serpent’s Eye would suit you.” He touches the necklace with his fingertips. The action makes you gulp - this necklace seems to weigh tons and you’ve been painfully aware of it all the time, your anxious brain already making up scenarios of you losing the millionaire design and Jimin’s parents making you pay with your life.

“Why did you choose it, by the way?” You quirk one eyebrow up in a teasing expression. “Are you calling me a snake? Should I be offended?”

Jimin chuckles. “Of course not. Serpents are astute and smart animals… just like you.” Sir, the actual smooth person here is you, not me. “Not everyone can pull off such an aggressive design. I knew none of my mother’s friends would dare to choose it.”

Jimin hooks your arm around his and slowly starts to guide you towards the stairs. “So your mom lets her friends borrow her jewelry?” You ask.

“From the family collection, yes.” Jimin nods in a gracious movement. “The most expensive pieces, only to the closest and most important guests. It’s a sign of trust and respect.”

“But your mother surely doesn’t respect me.” You say between gritted teeth, aware of the people around you.

“Don’t worry, she won’t say a word about it. It’d be weird if the guests noticed that her daughter-in-law isn’t wearing one of the pieces. Like I told you… this event is about appearances. She’d rather die than let people think her family isn’t perfect.”

Daughter-in-law. This makes you shiver. You've been her fake in law for barely 48 hours and it already feels like hell. Imagine being her real in law… Jieun must’ve done some awful things in her past life to deserve this, honestly.

You’re forced to pay attention to your real surroundings before you can overthink more, though, when you realize you’re the center of attention.

This is probably the closest you’ll ever feel to being a celebrity. It’s not unusual to be the center of attention when it’s your birthday, for example. But this… this feels different. You don’t know most of these people, just some familiar faces from earlier today - yet, it seems that they already know you, they measure you up and down, they smile and greet you before you can. Sure… your arm is hooked with one of this event’s hosts, the Park’s youngest son. Yet, you see that people are also actually seeing you. You’re not just Jimin’s accessory.

Is this good? You’re not sure. This means they’ve heard from you somehow. In the span of less than 48 hours, these unknown people have been talking about you.

They approach you with curious smiles; they greet you and Jimin, make some shallow - almost diplomatic - comment about the weather or how long they haven’t seen Jimin or about the outfits or I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N! (how the hell did they hear a lot about you in such a short time, though?) or you make a gorgeous couple! (you know they’re not lying about this bit; you do look gorgeous). They do not look at you disapprovingly, so you can confirm that the outfit choice was indeed appropriate for the event, albeit dramatic.

“You’re great at this, did you know that?” Jimin compliments after yet another middle aged couple walks away, leaning a bit closer to your ear so only you can hear. “You even remember their names.”

“I have a good memory,” you say between a gritted-teeth smile. “Also, working on customer service teaches you a few things.”

“Really? You weren’t this charming when we met at that convenience store.” He says in a teasing way, cocking an eyebrow up.

“First of all, I met you sitting on the floor behind a fridge. You looked like a freak.” He lets a giggle at that. “Second, I’ve moonlighted as a waitress many times. And event hostess. Never any event of this level, of course.”

The last sentence was spoken in a quieter tone. Once again, you’re a bit scared of how Jimin - and everyone else - don’t seem to be bothered by the absolutely luxurious environment around. The immense hall is decorated in similar white and cream tones from the dinner yesterday (there’s a reason for that; Jimin’s parents are celebrating their 30th anniversary, the Pearl anniversary, apparently). Even waiters and waitresses, walking around with silver platters in hands and pretty smiles on their faces, wear cream uniforms. There are literal cascades of white lilies and roses so beautifully entangled that you’re intrigued at how they managed to arrange that. The round dinner tables are also decorated with white flowers at the center. There is a massive ice sculpture of an open oyster with a pearl in it at the entrance of the hall; the presence of pearls and oysters is almost everywhere in the decoration. The hostesses and waitresses even have small oyster shaped pins on their hair. At the very front, there is a stage; it’s barely lit yet, but you can see musicians discreetly preparing their instruments for the concert later. Professional photographers walk around the hall, recording and taking pictures of anything remarkable.

It’s jaw-dropping.

You feel weird inside.

It doesn’t matter that you look like them; you don��t feel like them. You don’t belong in this place, and it feels that everyone will notice it too if you do the slightest thing wrong. It’s clear in the way you’re astonished (outraged) at how someone can spend so much money on flowers (do you even know how much a single bouquet costs? Can you imagine thousands of flowers?!) while these people walk around with hundreds of thousands of dollars hanging from their ears or around their necks, and to them it’s just another weekend.

Oh boy. Mr. Zhou was kinda right. You will have to be very careful not to embarrass Jimin or his family in front of these people.

You walk around with your arm hooked around Jimin’s for a while, making silly small talk with the guests. Jimin quietly whispers who they are and their importance as they approach. It’s always some over the top shit like Biggest LG Shareholder or Co-Founder of This Very Famous Car Brand or CEO of This Very Rich Food Company and it makes your stomach drop every time. It seems that half of the country’s GDP is hanging around in this hall. A bunch of old guys with their (1) same age, but full of obvious cosmetic procedure wives or (2) much younger wives that of course married them out of true love.

Jimin complimented you earlier, but it’s him who deserves the most compliments. He’s really good at this. It’s so easy for him to engage in a superficial but polite conversation. Hello! I acknowledge your presence here! I am thankful that you came but I do not care enough to talk more than two minutes with you! Yes the weather is nice! See you later! All that with the prettiest smile and most genuine fake laughter you’ve ever seen (sounds contradictory but that’s exactly that). And they all fall for that. He’s so unbearably charming.

Which makes you wonder.

Jimin said that the whole purpose of bringing you to Hawaii was to upset his parents. But… he’s not really acting like someone willing to do that. Of course - maybe he knows that if he goes too far, his parents might really cut him off of their sweet sweet money fountain. Yet, it doesn’t match with what he stated earlier. Does he really want to piss his parents off? Or does he want to play the good boy so his parents leave him alone with this engagement thing? Those are opposites, he can’t want both.

Does he even know what he wants?

You’re unsure.

Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have accepted this insanity, the little anxious voice in your head says. Maybe he really is too immature and is about to fuck me up.

Jimin gives a little pat on the hand that holds his arm and smiles.

“We’re doing really well, pretty. I’m relieved that you’re here.” He says quietly. “This kind of event always stresses me out, but you’re making this easier.”

Don’t go around saying cute shit like that while I doubt you!

You avoid his gaze and sip a little bit more of the champagne you picked earlier from a waiter. “It doesn’t look like you’re stressed at all.” He shrugs.

“I’m method acting, too. Kinda used to it at this point.”

And there it is. That quiet sadness in his eyes.

Goddamnit.

All the questions in your head crumble to the ground, and you immediately want to comfort him like a baby.

That’s not a baby. It’s a grown ass man. Get yourself together.

The voice in your head is angrier now - and she’s kinda right, to be honest.

Jimin sighs and pats your hand again.

“Okay, we’ve wandered around enough. Food will be served soon… so we have to get seated.” He doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t despise the idea of having to sit with his family for another torturously long dinner.

“Okay.” You nod, placing the now empty champagne glass on another waiter’s platter. You inhale, trying to gather more confidence. “Let’s go.”

So, you start walking towards the table at the front of the stage - the most important one where everyone can see from all directions.

They’re already there, surrounded by their closest friends.

At every step, you try to gather more and more anger within yourself - this anger will fuel your confidence and muffle the nervousness (in theory). Fuck this middle aged billionaire couple. Fuck their matching cream outfits - Mr. Park Hyunjun wears a very traditional (read: boring) cream suit, while Mrs. Park Eunji wears a long, flowy dress with blue details in it and beautifully embroidered with silver patterns that seem to remember a soft breeze. A beautiful pearl necklace adorns her neck and modest cleavage. Their outfits are very “age appropriate” and posh, indeed, and they are an attractive couple, but everything about them is so painfully traditional.

Also fuck the way they look at you two with disapproval.

Another nauseatingly fake scene unfolds in front of your eyes - Mrs. Eunji giggles and side hugs Jimin, gushing over how handsome he looks (she can’t hide the obvious distaste for his black outfit, though).

“What an… interesting choice,” she says, touching the embroidery on his blazer with her fingertips. “Rather dramatic, I’d say.”

Jimin smiles. “Everyone looks good in black, you know. Also, I didn’t want to stand out.”

Bullshit. No one else is wearing black because it goes against the dress code. The way he said it so innocently would make any unsuspecting ears believe him, but his mom is certainly not one of those - neither are you.

“Of course, black can make anyone look presentable at least. Y/N is live proof, isn’t she?”

She eyes you from head to toe and smiles sweetly.

Holy fucking shit. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.

Her tone. The way she looks at you. Her awful Tom Ford perfume that makes you want to vomit as she approaches and - gasp - side hugs you too, like a good and loving mother-in-law. You smile and give her some soft pats on her back, but God, you can’t act as well as her at all - although you force yourself to do your best, well aware that all eyes and ears are focused on the Park family.

“You look astonishing tonight, Mrs. Park,” you say between gritted teeth. “This color really suits you.” Cream is boring. Like old paper. You almost smell like mold, too, rattlesnake.

“I’m glad you think so.” She’s not glad you think so. “See, me and Elie spent a long time choosing the color palette for this dress… he did such a wonderful job in the end.” She widens her eyes slightly. “Oh! My apologies, you can’t possibly know who I’m talking about…”

“Elie Saab.” You promptly say. Of course Elie Saab himself designed a dress for her. “Yes, I know his work.”

“Really?” She raises one eyebrow and this small movement spreads anger through your system. So much disdain, and she just said a word. “I didn’t think you’d know such a highly regarded fashion house, since you seem so… humble.” She has the audacity to eye you up and down with disgust again. “A wonderful trait to have, you see! Our Jimin definitely needs someone in his life to teach him some humility.”

In all honesty, you don’t even know how to respond to this.

Your wanted reaction is to reach for the nearest fork and stab her face with it. Which is, unfortunately, socially inappropriate. You also think of calling her by the ugliest names in existence, which, unfortunately is also socially inappropriate (won’t take you to jail, at least).

But all you can do is keep that smile plastered on your face and anger in your eyes.

This level of contempt is not unusual.

Alpha High taught you to get used to it. The giggles, side glances, or straight up offenses spoken out loud so everyone could laugh at your expense, too. It taught you to accept it silently, because you knew no one would stand up for you; you didn’t have enough money or a heavy surname to back you up. You weren’t important enough. Who cared if you had an excellent academic performance? It wasn’t as cool as having a summer manor in Greece anyway.

You hate that no clever response comes to your mind. You hate that you can just stand there and awkwardly look at her - this woman that made you feel cheap even though you have diamonds sitting around your neck. You hate that, deep down, you’re feeling as cornered as you were as a defenseless fifteen year old standing on the school hallway.

Not a fun feeling at all.

And things just start getting progressively worse.

Before even Jimin gets time to say something, another couple approaches - and your blood freezes. You’ve seen them yesterday at the reception dinner and earlier today, now feeling a little stupid that you didn’t make the simple connection. They’re followed shortly by another person, a much familiar and hated face.

Eunbi’s parents, apparently; Mr. and Mrs. Jeong.

Now that you look at the three of them, the silly part of your brain wonders who Eunbi inherited her beauty from, because they don’t share much of it with her, let’s say. They’re impeccably well dressed, of course, but their daughter’s beauty steals all the attention. She wears a rosé pink minidress (is it MiuMiu?) with a straight neckline and thin straps. On her ears, diamond earrings that seem to resemble raindrops; around her neck, a diamond choker necklace. Everything combed with the subtle makeup gives her a young, cute look.

You measure each other up and down like two rival lions about to fight. Complete opposites, black and pink.

The tension is so extreme that it’s almost visible - like some kind of fog.

Jimin is the one to break the ice, stepping closer to greet the couple, and you do the same, glad that you don’t have to look at Mrs. Rattlesnake even for five seconds - though this other lady also hates you, apparently. It’s kind of amazing how Jimin can act like the heavy tension isn’t there at all.

The seven of you stand there smiling for long and silent five seconds. It looks like a smiling contest. You can’t tell who’s angrier.

“So… Y/N, right?” Mrs. Jeong says. She looks like an eggplant, some part of your brain remarks silently, almost making you (very inappropriately) giggle. “It’s such a surprise that you and our Eunbi were classmates. We would’ve never guessed.”

If that’s even possible - your anger levels increase. It might’ve sounded like a pretty normal thing to say, but her tone and the way she measured you up and down makes it clear that what she really meant was we would’ve never guessed that a nobody like you also studied in Alpha High.

“We were surprised, too.” Eunbi says before you can, smiling sweetly. “We haven’t seen each other in years.”

“This is a great excuse for you to come with us to a day at the Spa tomorrow, isn’t it, Mrs. Park?” Eunbi’s mom says, eyeing the other woman knowingly.

“Of course! Y/N and Eunbi must have a lot to catch up after all these years, right? Y/N, you have to come with us tomorrow.” Rattlesnake hisses- (oops) says.

You look at the two other women with uneasiness.

First of all, this doesn’t sound like an invite, but a summon. You simply know you can’t say no. Second of all - these three despise you, they wouldn’t want you there if they didn’t have second intentions. What do they actually want?

You want to say no thanks, but it feels like you’re handcuffed in this situation.

“Sure. It sounds refreshing,” you finally agree with a painful smile. It didn’t even happen yet, but you know tomorrow is already ruined. Don’t let these bastards get to your head, your inner voice advises; don’t show weakness. You can deal with them.

Yeah, right.

You notice that, surprisingly, Eunbi looks very uncomfortable with the whole idea; she avoids her mother’s gaze and looks down, smile faltering a bit. She doesn’t want to be around you as much as you don’t want to be around her, apparently. At least you can agree on something.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Mr. Park stepping closer once again, placing his hand on his wife’s back. “Dear, dinner’s ready and about to be served. We should take our places.”

“Of course. I’m sure all of us are hungry enough.” She turns around to the other guests to announce it loudly, and somehow all the nearly one hundred people manage to hear it, walking to their respective seats.

Respective seats.

The seats are all charted - something you only saw in movies before, but you should’ve expected it at this point. Coming closer to the round table, you notice that over every beautiful white and blue porcelain plate, there is an elegant tag name in golden lettering on top of it. Mr. and Mrs. Park; Hyungsik and his wife sit by Mr. Park’s seat, while Jimin’s place is by his mother…

And by Jimin’s seat…

You freeze. Jimin freezes, too.

Jeong Eunbi’s name tag.

Feeling your stomach drop, you look around, searching for your own name tag - but there’s none to be seen, and it’s getting increasingly embarrassing as everyone else sits down while you and Jimin remain standing.

Your throat gets dry.

“She’d rather die than let people think her family isn’t perfect,” Jimin said as you walked inside the hall. This made you think she wouldn’t want to embarrass you.

Oh, Jimin. How wrong you were.

“Hm, there must be a mistake.” Jimin speaks up. The smile is still there, but his eyes hardened and his breath gets deeper as the visible anger fills him. “Where is Y/N’s seat?”

“Oh! Jimin, dear… this is a bit unpleasant,” his mother says, stepping closer with clasped hands and (fake) apologetic eyes. “You know that we planned this event months prior… the charting was already made long ago. We didn’t know Y/N would be here today. Unfortunately, there was no time to tell the catering staff to provide one more seat at our table.”

Funny how your legs start feeling cold all of sudden.

It’s the second time you’re at a loss of words tonight, this time much worse than before. You grip Jimin’s arm just a little tighter, feeling how the situation is starting to get people’s attention. Mrs. Park isn’t trying to be quiet right now. Your legs are cold, but your neck and face suddenly warm up with embarrassment as the guests on the main table whisper among each other in confusion.

“We found a vacant seat, of course, right over there, Y/N,” Mrs. Park continues - for fuck’s sake, she just continues - pointing over to the other side of the hall. “With the Kim family. You’ll love them, I know it!”

Your brain can’t process a coherent sentence.

With the corner of your eye, you notice Eunbi standing a few steps away awkwardly. She has the decency to look embarrassed, at least. Everyone else at the table is already seated.

You’re… you’re supposed to be their daughter-in-law. Their younger son’s girlfriend, the first girl he ever brought over. Yet… they refuse to let you sit by Jimin’s side on the main table, the hosts table, and want you to sit alone on the back so they can set up Jimin and Eunbi. And they’re doing it publicly.

This is the type of humiliation you wouldn’t expect from an adult, a mature person. But it’s happening nevertheless, and you want to sink and disappear. You can’t think of a quirky comeback, a way out that would make you feel less humiliated - even though Jimin isn’t even your real boyfriend and these people aren’t your real in-laws. This trip feels like a mistake, like a bad idea, like Mr. Zhou was absolutely right in his warning.

You’re so overwhelmed by this sour feeling that you don’t notice how Jimin’s smile disappears.

He sighs heavily, looking at his feet, jaw clenched.

“Okay.” He looks up at you - and you’re taken aback, because you’ve never seen Jimin angry before. “Y/N, let’s go back to our room.”

And he starts walking away, taking you along by the hand.

“What? Jimin- where’re you going?” Mrs. Park says, making Jimin stop. “Dinner’s about to be served.”

You see the warning in her eyes and gritted teeth and hardened smile, but for once, Jimin doesn’t play along. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t speak louder, but when he does speak, it’s in a hard and serious tone.

“If Y/N doesn’t have a place here, neither do I. I don’t see why we should stay in this situation.” He doesn’t bother to whisper, aware that he has the table’s attention. “Now, if you’ll excuse us...”

Oh shit. He’s angry and offended. Jimin turns around again, holding your hand tightly.

In the midst of all the bad feelings, this is so satisfying. You’re simply happy that Jimin didn’t leave you on your own, didn’t lower his head to his parents. He stood up for you and is genuinely pissed! His mother is still babbling - she for sure didn’t expect Jimin to want to leave like this - and even Mr. Park got up from his seat; Eunbi is pale, her parents watch in disapproval, similar to Jimin’s older brother, who glares at him as if he did something wrong.

“Wait, Jimin, please,” someone else says, which catches both yours and Jimin’s attention: Mr. Hwang. He’s gotten up and looks between you and Mrs. Park cautiously. “I am sure we can solve this situation very easily. There’s no need to miss this amazing night.”

Mrs. Hwang also gets up; her eyes are widened with worry and an uneasy smile. “I am sure everyone at this table can move a little so Y/N can sit with us.” Murmurs of agreement echo around, much to the Park’s displeasure. “Waiter, please? Could you assist us?”

You and Jimin eye each other as Mrs. Hwang politely asks a nearby waiter to bring another chair, while the guests start getting up with no protest to open a little spot by Jimin’s side. In no time, there is one more chair at the table; another waitress hushes to bring a new set of plates and cutlery.

“See? It’s done! Not a big problem at all.” Mr. Hwang says happily; the guests at the table also seem content.

“I guess we can all sit now, right, Jimin?” His wife says. “We all would hate it if this lovely young lady missed the concert.” And to your surprise - the table agrees.

You look at Jimin again. He doesn’t look happy - not at all - but it seems that he softened up a bit because of the Hwang couple; same goes for you. If this was a competition for Best Middle Aged Couple, the Hwangs would’ve won it by far.

He raises an eyebrow at you - a question. You shrug and nod in small movements. Although you’d rather not be here, at least Mrs. Park looks infuriated that her silly little plan didn’t work and she in fact caused a ridiculous scene. Her attempt at embarrassing you completely backfired.

Jimin sighs heavily and, instead of saying anything, walks back to the table once again. The guests sigh in relief; Eunbi looks even more awkward; the Parks are fuming. Jimin pushes the chair for you to sit, and as you do, a little spark of victory fills your chest.

“I’m glad this is solved,” Mrs. Park says, glaring at you as if she wants to stab you with the nearest knife, a lip tightened smile. “I hate unforeseen events.”

You are the unforeseen event. About to be the worst she could ever imagine.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Park. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.” You say sweetly. Jimin does his best not to laugh; she definitely wants to stab you.

Me 1 x 0 Rattlesnake

A win, at last.

Everyone at the table does their best to forget The Seat Incident for the sake of a good mood.

Lighthearted conversations. Good (amazing) food. The band plays soft background music. Understandably so, neither you and Jimin talk much - he is still visibly upset; chooses to just respond whenever someone mentions him or makes quiet comments in your ear from time to time. You, on the other hand, don’t talk much because the person sitting by your left side is Eunbi and you’d honestly rather swallow nails than willingly have a conversation with her.

All things considered, everything is going alright. They’re asking fewer questions than yesterday, which is great, so you can focus on whatever the name of this thing you’re eating is - taking small bites and chewing slowly so you don’t look impolite and desperate for food. Your stomach twirls every time you hear Jimin’s parents' voices, though, which makes you enjoy the taste less.

You’re doing great, you mentally pat yourself on the back. A few more hours and you’ll be back in your room. Just get this over with.

After pretty much everyone is done eating - your stomach is so full that the dress becomes uncomfortably tight -, Mr. Park gets up from the chair and softly clicks the side of a knife on a crystal glass, enough to call everyone’s attention. You notice when a waiter swiftly places a mic on the table for him.

The band stops. Everyone goes silent. Mr. Park Hyunjun takes the mic, a soft smile adorning his features, as the spotlight focuses on him.

“Good evening once again, my friends.” His deep and elegant voice echoes softly through the speakers. The whole hall greets him back. “I hope everyone enjoyed this amazing dinner prepared by Chef Mauro Bianchi. Mr. Mauro, it is a pleasure to have you with us once again.”

A round of applause. An aggressively Italian man with a cook outfit politely bows and smiles as the spotlight focuses on him in the back of the hall, close to the kitchen doors. Of course Mr. Park only acknowledges the worldwide famous, I-don’t-know-how-many-Michelin-stars holder Chef, but not the entirety of the staff that helped organize and serve everyone.

“As most of the friends present here already know, me and my dear wife prepare this event every year not only as a celebration of our union, but also as a celebration of all the many achievements and challenges we win throughout the year.” He makes a dramatic pause, his eyes scanning the crowd to make sure everyone is paying attention - and everyone indeed is; despite your hatred for the man, you can’t deny that with this level of oratory, he could’ve easily been a news anchor.

He offers his hand to help his wife get up from the chair as another round of applause echoes. Mrs. Rattlesnake has a pretty smile, you have to admit. Once again - yeah, they do look great together, and otherwise you’d think this is all too sweet, but there’s just something inherently wrong with this scene… too poised, robotic - trained to detail.

“And past year was indeed one of the most significant of our lives. After much work, Aurum ranked fifth place as one of the biggest steel companies in the world. We’ve achieved heights my parents would’ve never imagined.” He continues. More applause. What does it even have to do with his marriage? “Unity. This is the word for our 30th anniversary. Everything we’ve made and built, we did together - and I’m sure we wouldn’t have gotten this far if we were apart.” Oh, so your fortune was “achieved” because of your wife? I thought it was because of the already rich company your dad left on your hands.

“And the oyster, my friends, is the perfect symbol of unity; it summons up our life as a couple very well.” He looks at his wife sweetly. You have trouble telling if Mrs. Rattlesnake’s glossy eyes are fake or not. “An oyster. Two shells, pressed together - working together to create the most beautiful pearl. And our pearls, our jewels - the biggest gift this marriage brought us both - is our two sons.”

My God.

You want to vomit.

The applause is a bit louder now as the spotlight focuses on both Jimin and Hyungsik. Both of them smile and wave to the public. If you hadn’t spent the most uncomfortable hours of your life around this family, you would’ve fallen for Mr. Park’s sweet words - but hell no. I mean, it might be true about Hyungsik - but Jimin? The dear son they very publicly disrespected only barely an hour ago, by ignoring his partner? The dear son they mock constantly, scold, disrespect, and want to force into an arranged marriage against his will?

These people genuinely make you sick.

You’re a bit surprised as Jimin grabs your hand under the tablecloth, where no one can see. You take it and squeeze softly. He wants to vomit as much as you do.

“You two are live proof of our love, and we are so proud to know you’re our children.” The applause continues as Mr. Park speaks this time. Kind of funny how he says that while Jimin himself stated that he sees his parents once a year. That’s not the behavior of someone that cares this much.

“Unity. Family. Love. Friendship. It’s what we’ve been harvesting together for the past 30 years, and I couldn’t be more happy and grateful.” He squeezes his wife’s hand sweetly. “Now, let us celebrate together, my dear friends.”

The lights go off while the hall applauds; the band starts playing again, way louder this time - a melody you’re familiar with - and when all the spotlights focus on the stage-

You gasp loudly.

“What the-?!” You whisper in utter shock. Jimin chuckles.

The woman standing on the stage is… is Kim Gain.

Like, why are you even surprised at this point? What, you thought the Parks would’ve hired a bar singer for their super expensive wedding anniversary? But even so, you didn’t expect to be seeing the 90s love songs’ legend Kim fucking Gain standing a few meters away from you, wearing a gorgeous long silver dress, her beautiful and powerful voice filling the hall as she sings her all-time smash hit Flower Hill. This woman doesn’t even do concerts anymore! You can’t even imagine the insane amount of money they must’ve paid her to do a private concert.

She sings looking directly at the main couple, and God- despite the age, her voice sounds even better live than recorded. It makes you forget for a while all of tonight’s awful events. You quietly hum along to the lyrics of Flower Hill word by word - it’s impossible to not know this song, not only because it’s a classic, but because it’s your mother’s favorite song and she hammered it into your head.

Your memories are as clear as the blue sky; your mother played her CD over and over again - this song specifically - while she prepared lunch. You helped her peel the boiled eggs, standing on a stool so you’d get tall enough to reach the sink, while she cut cabbage swiftly. You both sang along to Flower Hill. Even your father would hum along eventually as he put the dried bowls on their respective cabinets.

It’s a good childhood memory. One of the few. You remember thinking that your mother looked so beautiful when she wasn’t frowning and angry at you.

And all of sudden - sadness hits you like a truck.

Funny how being humiliated in front of these people didn’t even get close to making you cry the way just thinking of your mother does.

You sigh and look down, that familiar heavy thing growing in your chest, stubborn tears that you blink away before they can even come. Shit shit shit. Don’t you dare to cry here, Y/N, you scold yourself harshly. But goddammit- Mrs. Kim Gain sings really well, and when the chorus hits, you always melt away.

It’s moments like this that remind you that you are, in fact, not indifferent. And you are, in fact, far more hurt that you can put into words.

It’s your turn to squeeze Jimin’s hand for comfort.

He eyes you quietly, confused - but chooses to not make any comment.

You elbow Jimin’s side, eyes squinted, as if unsure of what you’re seeing.

“What?” He asks, relaxing on the chair next to yours, now sitting on a table at the external part of the hall. Finally some cool night air; from the external part, you have a wonderful view of the immense garden that goes down the hill directly to the sea. You can see the pier down there; it’s full of parked yachts - much more than during the day - but there’s some in the distance as well, shining against the otherwise pitch black sea like little stars.

“Am I crazy,” you say after sipping more champagne from the glass, “or that’s Kim Minju?”

You discreetly point to a certain girl standing inside the hall. She’s tall and gorgeous, wearing a green sundress. You’re not really into idols - you don’t have time to keep up with celebrities at all - but even someone like you can recognize Kim Minju, the new “it” girl from the new “it” group everyone’s been talking about lately.

Jimin squints his eyes as well, and when he sees who you’re pointing at, he nods. “Yep, it’s her.”

You raise one eyebrow up. “Why are your parents friends with teenage celebrities?”

“They’re friends with her mother.” Jimin sips from his own glass of champagne. He took his blazer off and rolled the shirt up to his elbows, looking much more relaxed now that he can finally stay away from his family.

Kim Gain finished her concert, which meant people were allowed to just hang around and talk again, while the band kept playing background music. You decided to leave the main table as soon as you could, finding this almost-hidden table at the external balcony (you’re glad it’s this hidden, because it’s getting hard to sit all lady-like with your feet hurting like this. These Givenchy sandals were way too expensive to be this uncomfortable to wear). Jungkook was hanging out with you two minutes ago, but suddenly something “very important” happened and he had to leave (in other words: some hot girl passed by and he went after her).

“And her mother is…?”

“One of MNET’s biggest shareholders, basically. Why do you think Minju is the most popular member? Her mother pays for her to be the center, to have the best clothes… this kind of thing.” He speaks in a low voice, aware of the people around. “Most popular idols are only popular because their families pay for their popularity.”

“Oh.” Makes sense. You look him up and down, the hint of a playful smile on your lips. “You could’ve asked your parents for help in this area, Jimin. You would’ve made a great idol.”

Jimin chuckles and pushes his hair back. “I know, right? But I don’t think I would survive a day in this life. I mean- a dating ban?” He scowls. “Just no.”

You chuckle too, resting your chin on your palm. You’ve only been sipping champagne - though they’re serving other interesting drinks, too -, afraid to get even slightly intoxicated and embarrass yourself (and Jimin) in front of these people. Even so, this champagne is starting to make you feel a little funny inside. Maybe I should stop.

“How do you even know this dating ban thing is real?” You raise one eyebrow at him. Jimin huffs.

“I had a thing with this idol girl for a while.” He says nonchalantly - then interrupts himself, as if he just realized he said something he shouldn’t. He eyes you apologetically.

“I don’t care if you talk about other girls.” You assure, rolling your eyes. And you actually don’t. It’s not like you have anything real going on for you to care. (You’re quietly blaming your rage fit against Hari earlier today on the alcohol).

“Really?”

“Yeah. Why would I?”

Jimin looks at you in silence.

“Kinda hoped you’d be jealous.”

You laugh it off, furiously ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. “Just tell the story, Jimin.”

He seems dramatically disappointed, which makes you giggle again. Jimin sips more champagne and tilts his head.

“So… me and this girl. Whenever we went out together, we had to literally - I mean literally - hide. Wearing masks, sunglasses, hoodies, all this stuff. At the beginning it was kind of fun, but then it got unbearable. Her manager kept calling her all the time to know where she was. One time, a paparazzi caught us and I had to pay them a shitton of money to not release the photos.”

“Why didn’t she pay for it? Or her company?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“Because her company didn’t know. She didn’t tell them, scared of getting punished or whatever. And she didn’t have the amount they asked for. So I paid for it.” He shrugs. “Then I broke up with her. I mean, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, why did I have to hide?”

“Yeah, sounds like a strict life. I don’t think I could take it, either.”

You notice the way Jimin’s eyes glint with playfulness again; a mischievous smirk adorns his lips. He comes even closer to you and looks around, making sure the people aren’t paying attention to the conversation.

“Back on the topic of Kim Minju,” he says in that quiet tone that means gossip. “Her mother is lesbian.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Really? How do you know?”

“I know a lot of things about a lot of people.” He discreetly points to an elegant woman standing near Kim Minju - maybe just a bit younger than Mrs. Park. “That one.” You squint your eyes to analyze her. “She’s been ‘single’ for around ten years, since her divorce with Minju’s father. She’s, like… the most famous closeted lesbian I’ve ever seen. In terms of how much people I know she fucked, she must be only behind Mr. Junghoon.”

Your eyes widen even more. “Jungkook’s dad?!”

Jimin nods vehemently. “Yep. He must’ve fucked at least half of this hall. All those pretty younger wives.”

You eye Junghoon - standing in the middle of the hall, laughing at something someone said. “Like father, like son, I guess.” Jimin chuckles at this. “I mean, he is very hot for his age.”

“That’s not even the craziest person here.” Jimin narrows his eyes, looking for someone into the crowd. You find yourself entertained by his sudden will to spill people’s lives on you - it even makes you forget how much your feet hurt for a while. When he finds them, he elbows your side lightly. “That couple over there? The Kwons?”

You take around three seconds to find them- a middle aged couple, a bit older than Jimin’s parents, perhaps. They seemed very polite (considering you talked for less than two minutes).

“Yeah?”

“They host massive orgies.” You look at Jimin in pure shock. He looks back at you with his eyebrows raised in that I know, girl expression. “They have a mansion in Malibu only for this purpose. They invite dozens of people to participate.”

You sip more champagne. That conservative looking couple host orgies? They look like the type of people that think women showing their ankles is a sin. Appearances really mean nothing around here! “Were you ever invited?”

“Thank God no. And I wouldn’t go anyway. Not into voyeurism.” Jimin makes a disgusted scowl. “But I know some people that went there. They’re pretty creepy, actually. Just… stay away from them, okay?”

“Noted.” You’ve watched enough documentaries about how rich people can be creepy to know Jimin isn’t kidding.

“There’s also, let’s see… oh! Jinwoo, over there.” He points to a man in his early thirties that you briefly greeted earlier today. “His marriage was arranged, too. I heard he has a severe humiliation kink. He likes to be treated like shit by women.” You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hide the bubbling giggle. Not to kinkshame anyone, but wow. “But his wife is not into it at all. From what I’ve heard, they even live in separate houses. So Jinwoo has to pay women to satisfy him.”

“I wouldn’t think that of him… he looks like the type that calls women females.” You remark.

“People around here look nothing like they actually are.” Jimin sips more champagne. You expectantly wait for him to tell you more - (1) because you like gossiping (2) because this is the most fun you’ve had the entire night. “Oh! Minho and Krystal. Over there.”

Said couple is standing quite far, talking to Jimin’s brother and his wife. They must be in their early thirties, too; an attractive couple that haven’t stepped away from each other the whole time. You briefly remember thinking they looked cute together.

“Yeah?”

“They’re in a forced marriage, too. Minho is gay.”

You pause. “They look genuine.”

“They’re not.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I met him in a bar last year in Berlin. He hit on me. Insistently. He’s friends with my brother, so I turned him down. But yeah, I saw him with other guys there.”

You look back at Minho in silence.

Oh.

This one’s kinda sad.

“So… he was forced into marrying a woman even though he’s gay.” You reason out loud. “Does his family know?”

“Probably not. At least, they pretend they don’t.” Jimin sips more champagne with a sour expression.

“That’s fucked up in so many levels.” You’re starting to get angry just talking about it. “He’s trapped with this woman, having to pretend his entire life? All for the sake of appearances? What, are we stuck in the XVIII century and nobody told me?”

“I told you that’s how things work around here.” He says, staring at the bubbles in his champagne glass.

And he actually told you. In your third encounter, back at the convenience store. But you didn’t believe him. It felt too far from your reality to be taken seriously. Now, though - after finding out that most of these pristine looking people, the “role models” of society are in secret what they most demonize - you truly realize how awful everything is. This much hypocrisy feels repulsive, overwhelming.

Is this how Jimin has been feeling his entire life?

“What about you, Jimin?” you ask quietly, any hint of playfulness gone from your face and voice.

“What about me?”

“What if you’re stuck in this situation? I mean, I remember what you told me back then. What if you want to marry a guy? Your parents would be against it… are you going to end like Minho? Having to pretend for the rest of your life? Can you accept this?”

Jimin sighs and hangs his head back, closing his eyes. You hate it because for a moment all you can look at is his half parted plump lips and your brain malfunctions for a sec.

“Let’s not talk about me, please?” He asks in a whiny, raspy voice.

“Why not? I’m worried about you. Can’t I be worried?” You put one hand on your hip, somehow starting to feel offended.

“No, you can’t.” He still hasn’t opened his eyes.

Yeah, you’re offended now. “Okay, then. I’m sorry for caring.”

Jimin looks at you with half opened eyes.

His voice drops.

“Don’t do this to me.”

“What?” You raise one eyebrow up.

“Act like you actually care.”

“Why do you think I’m acting?” You slightly push the empty champagne glass away, so nothing is between you two. Because he’s quieter, you unconsciously drop your voice, too.

“You said so. Method acting.”

You’re getting tired of this “method acting” thing. You inhale heavily. “Well, I’m not acting right now.”

Jimin drops his eyes to his own empty champagne glass, drumming his fingers on the table softly. He makes a small pout. His lips are so damn attractive. “You know, I’m conflicted about you.”

“Please elaborate.”

“I know I shouldn’t be expecting anything real from you at all, since I hired you to be here. But why do I feel that something real is going on?” He looks up at you again. “But then, sometimes, I feel like it’s not? I don’t know what to think of you.”

Holy Shit.

He went straight to the point.

You feel goosebumps on your spine (though you try to blame it on the cool breeze hitting your back, not on Jimin’s piercing gaze, of course). It’s kind of creepy how Jimin can balance being silly and cute in a moment and then boom - painfully straightforward a second later. He didn’t beat around the bush at all.

And yeah, you get what he meant.

You can’t tell if something real is going on. It’s way too early to say something “real” - whatever it is - is happening; you barely even know Jimin. At the same time he doesn’t know if you’re serious, you don’t know if he is being serious; many times, it feels like he’s acting, putting up a character around you. The way you’re rapidly getting attached to him is scary - what if you’re getting attached to a character? What if you’re surprised by Jimin’s real persona in the worst way possible?

You have no idea about any of that.

What you know, though - something that is very real, is almost visible - is the undeniable attraction you feel for each other.

This isn’t deep. You don’t have to think much about it.

And right now - with the alcohol subtly fogging your judgment and making you feel hot inside; the accumulated tension - you don’t really want to fight back anymore. You don’t want to think of consequences. All you can think of is his pretty plump lips.

You smirk, resting your face on your palm again. You see how this single look of yours affects him. You’re not the only one that can do this, Jimin.

“You know,” your voice is very quiet right now; half lidded eyes that stare back at him with the same intensity. “Knowing everything isn’t fun. I think it’s better this way.”

You’re still in public, but it’s like everyone else becomes distant.

Jimin smirks, too.

“Let’s play a game, then.” He says all of sudden, getting even closer to you, on the edge of his seat. “I’ll ask a few questions. You can answer them or not.”

You feel his hand on your leg, under the tablecloth.

This makes you widen your eyes, surprised, looking around discreetly. “What are you doing?”

“You said your feet hurt, pretty.” Oh shit. That mischievous tone, playful smile, glinting eyes. You’re a popsicle melting under his heat. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to giggle, as Jimin rests your left leg over his own legs. “Free massage.”

You’re kind of hidden - your leg is fully under the tablecloth - but you still look around frantically, trying not to make any weird face. “Jimin- they’ll see us.”

Jimin clicks his tongue at the same time he swiftly unbuckles your sandal and places it on the floor. Your heart beats faster with adrenaline - if any auntie sees this, they might want to arrest me! “They’re not paying attention to us.”

Indeed, no one is. Mr. and Mrs. Park are having a dance in the center of the hall; most of the crowd surrounds them. The place became dimly lit as the spotlight focuses only on the couple as they sway to a romantic tune and everyone watches them.

You’re about to make another complaint, but as both of his hands hold your aching foot, pressing it - you have to fight back what would be an obscene moan. It feels too good. Jimin chuckles.

“So, back on the game.” It’s criminal how he acts like he’s doing nothing wrong as his hands massage your foot. “Did you want to hook up with Hoseok?”

This comes so out of the blue that you freeze. “What made you think that?”

“I saw the way you looked at each other.”

Well. It’s not like Hoseok tried to pretend when he first saw you. “No. He’s hot, but no.”

Jimin nods. He seems satisfied with the answer. His hands work around your feet miraculously, pressing on the right spots, easing the pain.

They go a bit up. On your ankles now.

Oh God.

“Did you want to hook up with Jungkook?” Still not looking at you.

“No.” You chuckle. “What got into you? Are you jealous?”

“I don’t know, am I?” He raises his eyebrows and shrugs, making you smile. “I’d only be jealous if something real was going on between us, right?”

His hands are traveling up your leg, still massaging as they do. You gulp heavily. Your heart beats faster.

“Right.”

Your thigh.

You gasp quietly as, in a sudden movement, he pushes you even closer to his body. The chair scratches on the floor. You’re glad the music is loud enough to mask the noise.

His hands are warm. His smirk widens.

Jimin massages your thigh slowly. You don’t make any attempt to stop him. His hands are resting just a little distant from the hem of your dress.

You want them to be under it.

Yes, you are very much aware of all the people standing around, the things they’d think if they notice what is going on. But Jimin’s hands are on your thigh and you feel hotter inside every minute and his delicious lips are right there and holy fuck he’s enjoying torturing you as much as you enjoy being tortured and- you don’t even remember what you were worrying about a second ago.

“You’re so soft.” He says in a quiet, sultry voice that makes your insides quiver. “Are you feeling better now, pretty?”

“Mmmh-hmm” you say quietly as your breath gets deeper - which makes Jimin smile even more. “You’re good at this, did you know that? You have a hidden talent.”

He chuckles darkly, lifting his eyes to meet yours. “I could show you what else I can do with this talent of mine.”

His fingers - slowly, hesitantly - travel just a bit upwards, while he eyes you tentatively. He sees no disapproval or discomfort in your expression, which only ignites his excitement. He smirks and shakes his head slightly.

“I’m actually going insane because of you, Y/N.” The smirk in his voice makes yet another goosebump run through your system. In response, you tilt your head to the side, eyeing him innocently.

“Why? I’m not doing anything.” You bite the tip of your tongue while smiling, which makes Jimin gulp.

Oh, the electricity. It almost sparks in the air with the power of a lightning. And to think you were trying to act all chaste not long ago, gaslighting yourself into thinking that doing anything with him would be equivalent as “selling yourself”.

Who fucking cares?

“Last question.” He says quietly, leaning even closer to you until his lips are right by your ear, sending shivers of excitement down your body.

“Will you let finally let me fuck you?”

The words get stuck in your throat.

Jimin hasn’t been this obscenely straightforward up until now. It makes your mouth water, your heart beat faster. His voice wasn’t demanding. It was pleading. Like he was desperate for you and couldn’t take it anymore.

And that’s your last straw.

You lean away just enough to look at him. Fuck, he’s got pleading eyes, too. Your panties feel humid, you remember the last time you had sex was three months ago, you feel his warm hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your intimacy.

You smile and, in a swift movement, move your leg away from his hand.

Jimin looks confused for a moment, his smile faltering, as you take the sandal and put it on your foot once again. He looks even more confused - maybe thinking you got offended? - when you get up and adjust your dress.

Then you look at him.

“Excuse me. I need to go to the toilet.”

Without looking back, you take the clutch from the table and make your way inside the hall.

The main couple is still having their moment in the middle of the hall - and for the first time you’re thankful to them, because no one even bats an eye as you discreetly make your way to the restroom. The dim lights hide you, not even waiters or security guards or photographers notice you.

As you get into the black marble restroom - completely empty - you have around five seconds to look at your reflection in the mirror before Jimin walks in and shuts the door.

His lips on yours shut you mid-giggle.

Jimin grabs the back of your neck and glues his body on yours with the other hand as he hungrily kisses you - the kiss tastes like the cherry from your lipgloss and expensive champagne. You grab both sides of his neck as Jimin and you stumble to one of the stalls and you close the door clumsily. Holy fucking shit, it’s getting hot. The kiss is deep and desperate and full of desire.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he says in a breathy voice that makes you smile seductively. “Why you gotta do this to me?”

You unconsciously squeeze your thighs on one another as he leaves a wet kiss on your neck; you grab his shoulders for support. “I’m not doing anything yet.”

He chuckles darkly against your skin, his hot breath increases your temperature even more. His hand travels down your back to squeeze your ass, making you gasp lightly. He leaves one more wet kiss, and another, and another.

Jimin leans away so he can look at you. His lips are reddish, wet and a bit swollen.

“You don’t need to.” He parts your legs with his own. Your insides bubble with excitement. “Look at you… all dolled up. The prettiest of all of them out there.” He licks his lips slowly. “I want to make a mess of you, Y/N. I want to see how pretty you look with your hair and makeup ruined by me.”

His knee presses on your intimacy, making you involuntarily sigh; the pressure is still too soft, not even close to satisfying the raging fire inside your body, but it already makes you gulp and breath heavier. God, you want this man inside of you. You need him.

Jimin notices your change in expression and his smirk widens as he moves his knee against you, making you sigh again. You kiss him eagerly. There’s still music out there, but all you can hear is the kissing sounds and breaths and Jimin’s deep humm of approval.

“This is the face I wanted to see the most.” He whispers on your lips, his leg pressed against you, his hands caressing your waist and hips. “Let me make you feel good, pretty… please?” He pecks your lips. “Hmm?” He bites your bottom lip lightly, passing his tongue on it right after. “Can I fuck you now?”

Shit shit shit. It’s embarrassing how you already feel this wet while you barely even started. Were you this much touch starved? Or is it because you’ve been wanting this as much as him since the beginning?

You kiss him again.

“Not here.” you whisper in a breathy voice.

Jimin nods. It’s obvious. Anyone could walk in at any moment.

Back to your shared bungalow? It’s too far from here - only five minutes by car, yes, but you don’t think you can wait this long. Not to mention Mr. Zhou would be the one to drive you both back and you don’t want to look at that old man’s face before having sex.

Inside some car? But which car? This place is full of butlers and security guards, anyone would notice what’s going on. Just no.

As you’re about to ask where you could head to - Jimin’s eyes glint in that way that tells you he had an idea.

His smirk widens.

He steps back and grabs your hand with a boyish, playful expression.

“Let’s go.”

You have time to grab the forgotten clutch from over the sink before Jimin drags you out of the restroom - luckily, the hall is still dimly lit and there aren’t many people back here. Discreetly, you two make your way towards the back exit - avoiding butlers and photographers at the main entrance - stepping out of the hall towards the stairs.

You finally realize where Jimin is heading to when you get to the sidewalk and he takes a turn to the left.

The pier.

Dozens of parked and empty yachts just around the corner.

You’re both laughing childishly as you run towards the pier - stopping only so you can yank those sandals off; who the hell could run in stilettos? - not caring to look back, feeling excitement and just the sheer joy of doing something you know you shouldn’t. The pier is quiet, there aren’t many people around; most yachts are dark. Jimin doesn’t drop your hand as he squints his eyes trying to find a specific one. When he does, he sprints towards it, dragging you along.

Jungkook’s yacht.

Completely dark. Cleaners, bartenders, all the staff are long gone, having finished their shifts long ago.

There is a security guard standing in front of the entrance stairs, though.

He frowns as you two approach.

“Hey!” Jimin says in a happy voice. “You’re… Steven, right? Remember me? We were here earlier today.”

By the looks of it, his name is Steven, and he looks shocked that Jimin remembers it. “Good evening, sir. Did you need something?”

“You see, Steven, I might have forgotten something very important in the yacht.” Jimin says. You want to laugh. “I’d like to go check it out.”

“Of course, sir. Tell me what it is, I can ask another guard to check it for you-“

Jimin steps closer.

“No, Steven. I need to check it out. It’s kind of personal, you know?”

Steven eyes you and Jimin back and forth.

The penny drops. His frown deepens. You’re not even embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t let you in.” He says in a mix of hesitance and annoyance. “This is private property.”

“I know, Steven, and I’m glad my friend hired such a diligent security guard. You’re very professional.” Jimin is a bastard, isn’t he? “I promise I won’t get you in trouble. Just let me check, okay?”

Steven looks around. “I’m sorry, sir… I really can’t.”

Jimin nods.

He drops your hand for the first time, reaching for the inside of his back pocket.

You watch with your jaw dropped as he opens his wallet and puts a stack of money on Steven’s hand.

Jimin casually walks around with stacks of money in his wallet.

The security guard’s eyes are as widened as yours. That much money must be double - shit, triple - of what he’ll get for this shift. You see as his annoyance dissolves and his resolve to not let you in disappears.

“It’s a really tiny thing I’m looking for, so it’ll take, I don’t know… an hour?” Jimin looks back at you up and down and reaches for his wallet again. He takes another stack just as big and puts it on Steven’s hand. “Two hours, actually, to check the whole place.”

Steven gulps. It seems he’s furiously fighting against his work ethic - but the money on his hand is heavier.

Steven steps aside, finally giving up. “Okay, sir.”

Jimin smiles and grabs your hand again. “Make sure to keep the other guards away, okay? Thank you so much!”

You two sprint up the stairs - you have time to mumble an embarrassed “thank you” - towards the deck.

The yacht is completely dark, except for some emergency lights. Jimin guides you around it. You know there are actual bedrooms here, but both of you are way too impatient to go up one more flight of stairs - so before you can even process what’s happening, Jimin has thrown you against the bar counter and is kissing you again.

You drop the sandals and the clutch on the wooden floor before entangling your arms around Jimin’s neck. He presses his body on yours so hard that you lean back, your back hits the counter. And to think you were right here a few hours ago, surrounded by a bunch of people; it’s a completely different vibe with the lights off, silent, the darkness of the sea around you.

It’s your turn to squeeze Jimin’s ass, which makes him chuckle against your lips. He leans away for a moment and seems to be searching for something; with a click of his, the glass top of the counter lits up - there are red led lights under it. Both him and you are painted red.

Jimin looks at you with hungry eyes, out of breath. That damn smirk.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting this, pretty.” He pushes you closer again, grabbing your hair and leaving noisy kisses on your neck.

“I think I do.” You say cockily. You’ve been aching for him all this time - and it’ even embarrassing to admit it to yourself -; it’s embarrassing that Jimin is everything you learned to hate (filthy rich, arrogant, a fuck boy) from your past experiences, but shit, you’ve been wondering how he would feel inside of you all this time, you’ve been craving him since that night in your tiny apartment… and you’ve been wondering if he fucks as good as he talks.

Your hand bravely travels to his front. You rest your palm on his crotch, gently pressing it - earning a soft sigh from him. He’s stone hard. It makes you chuckle cockily against his ear, and the sensual sound sends shivers down Jimin’s spine.

“No, no, no… you don’t really know.” His lips are on your ear as he speaks quietly and deeply. While one of his hands are still tightly entangled in your hair, the other travels down your back - which already almost makes you melt - to rest on your ass; in a slow but unhesitant movement, he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it up to your hips, fully exposing your ass. “Ever since that time at the store…” he massages your asscheeks with both palms and squeezes it gently. You lick his neck in response. “When you looked at me with such disdain… you were reading a fucking text book behind that counter, looking at me as if you were so much better than me… I imagined fucking you over that same counter, pretty.” Goosebumps. He grabs one of your thighs and you instinctively wrap it around his waist; when he humps his clothed core against yours, you can’t fight back a soft moan. “I imagined fucking you over and over again. Such a hard-working girl…” He humps again, stronger this time. “So pretty…”

Your impatient fingers search for the lapel of his blazer, and you help him take it off, dropping it on the floor; you grab his face with both hands and your lips are pressed again in a hot dance, while he still humps slowly and sensually; each rub on your clothed clit sends electricity and heat through your veins. Your lower part is almost totally uncovered, except for the black lace thong you wear, and the cool ocean breeze makes the tiny hairs on your body raise. Everything is red and hot. Some sane part of your brain registers that if there’s anyone inside the neighbor yachts, they will totally see what’s happening - and it only adds to the excitement.

Jimin breaks the kiss and leans back slightly with half lidded eyes. His lips are shiny and stained with your lipgloss. He’s so sexy that the vision itself makes you feel pleasure.

He grips your ass tightly and watches intently as his movements make your breath get deeper each time, makes you sigh and moan softly. His breathing is deeper, too; his Adam’s apple moves when he gulps. He licks his bottom lip sensually, feeling the taste of your sweet lipgloss. He keeps you glued to his body as both of you move your hips against each other, rubbing your clothed intimacies to a more urgent pace; there are already droplets of sweat starting to cover his forehead.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whispers, watching you whimper.

“Touch me.” Your voice sounds strangled and slightly out of breath, which makes Jimin smile darkly. “Please.”

“Baby, you don’t need to beg.” He’s so visibly proud of himself and excited that he’s almost glowing more than the red led lights. The hand that supported your leg swiftly travels to your front and he unashamedly presses it on your clothed core, feeling the lace with his fingertips and the wetness underneath. The smile widens. “I’m going to give you anything you want tonight. Anything.”

Your head drops back when he starts to move his fingers in circular movements over your clit. He watches your every reaction intently with that same darkened gaze and smile. With the other hand, he grabs the back of your neck and once again glues his lips to your ear:

“I want to hear you moan for me, baby.”

He says as his fingers slip under the fabric of the thong.

You shiver and an obscene whimper leaves your lips when his cool fingers make contact with your warm, wet intimacy. He hums in approval - and the deep sound makes your legs shake -, feeling your arousal, before once again putting pressure on your clit and moving his fingers in provocative circles. That’s a man that knows what to do with a clit, by the way. You entrance tightens around nothing.

“You like that?” He whispers. You nod, eyes closed, lips half parted. “Hmmm…” is all you can say. His smile widens.

Instinctively, you start to buck your hips, following the movement of his hand. He increases the speed of his movements, noticing your eagerness. You feel the fire spreading from your core down your legs and stomach.

With a quiet chuckle, he suddenly wraps his other arm around your waist. You let a surprised gasp as Jimin lifts you from the ground with ease and makes you sit over the counter (you hadn’t realized that Jimin is that strong, which is kind of hot).

He stands between your legs and kisses you again. Your fingers run through his smooth hair; he massages your thighs, back and ass. You softly bite his delicious bottom lip, and it’s sick how you know he’s smiling before even opening your eyes.

“You want me so bad, baby. It’s kind of cute.” He breathes amidst a quiet chuckle.

“You’re talking too much.”

He chuckles again as his fingers search for the zipper on the back of your dress. “I can’t shut up when you’re around.” The quiet sound of the zipper somehow sounds loud right now. “I want you to pay attention to me and only me.”

“You have all of my attention now. Let’s see if you deserve it.” Jimin finds it sickening how you sound innocent and sweet as you say this, gazing at him with the most daring eyes he’s ever seen. He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, let’s see.”

Usually, you’d worry about taking the dress off, scared to damage it somehow, but as Jimin helps you lift it and put it over your head, you couldn’t care less. You’re not wearing a bra. Your chest is fully exposed; you rest your hands back on the counter, gazing at Jimin sweetly, as he almost drools over your body.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He breathes heavily, mesmerized. Without wasting a second, he cups your breasts with both hands and squeezes them gently, earning a hum of approval from you. He kisses your neck, making his way down - slow, wet, loud kisses -, tasting you; you grip and massage his smooth hair, pulling it softly in ways that make him shiver.

When he hungrily mouths one of your hardened nipples, you bite your bottom lip and a soft moan escapes. Just the vision of his plump lips wrapped around your nipple makes you wetter. He swirls his warm, wet tongue around it, while his hand still works on your other breast, massaging it in delicious movements. He sucks your nipple, making a loud noise, before biting it gently - earning a hiss from you.

“I like that sound.” He says against your skin, looking up at you with a smile. “God, you’re delicious.” He kisses a spot on your stomach, under your breast. “You smell so good…” Another kiss. Lower this time. “I want to eat you.”

You giggle, biting your lip provocatively - as if his actions aren’t making you go insane. “Then do it.”

It’s his turn to laugh as he shakes his head; his smile is angelical - even though, right now, with the red light painting his face as he helps you position your feet on the counter - your hands supporting the weight of your body as you lean back slightly, totally spread and exposed for him -, he looks like a hungry demon.

God. You never had sex in such an open place before. The ocean breeze hits your body, making you shiver, at the same time that you’re burning from the inside, trembling in expectation. Jimin takes the hem of your thong and helps you take it off slowly, well aware of how painful making you wait is. He drops the last piece of clothing to the floor before grabbing the insides of your thighs, spreading you even more.

You’re naked and open over a bar counter, where anyone from the neighboring yachts can see you, with a million dollar necklace around your neck - and you’ve never been so aroused before.

Jimin licks his lips, eyes locked on your cunt. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” You bite your bottom lip hard when his fingers press on your clit in circular movements again for some moments before spreading your pussy lips with his index and pointed finger. “I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

He wraps his lips on your clit.

You throw your head back and actually moan this time.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck - his plump lips around your clit feel like heaven, much better than what your dirty mind could think of. He sucks softly and licks you, from your entrance to your clit again, flicking his tongue over it (once again - that’s a man that knows what to do with a clit). His warm, wet muscle moving against your most sensitive part makes waves of heat and raw pleasure run through your body, completely clouding your mind, as your fingers grip his hair and moans and hisses escape through your lips. Your sounds of pleasure, the wet noises he makes as he sucks you and the ocean waves create the most obscene and beautiful symphony you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck-“ you manage to breathe out somehow. If he weren’t busy sucking your clit, he would’ve smirked cockily. “Feel so good, baby…”

He leans away for a moment, actually smirking this time. His lips are so wet that the sight makes you more wet. “Shit, if you call me like that again, I will cum in my pants.”

This makes you smile - but your smile goes away quickly as he carefully introduces two fingers inside of you, making you moan and bite your bottom lip. You’re so wet that they slide in easily - but you’re also very tight due to not being penetrated in a while, which makes Jimin move slowly. He watches your cunt with the attention of a professional. Fuck, he might be a pro at this, actually.

He curls his fingers inside of you slowly, making you lose your breath; Jimin pays attention to your every reaction. “You like that, pretty?”

“Y-Yeah,” you moan, nodding, still biting your bottom lip. Jimin looks up at you with a fog in his eyes.

“You look so fucking hot right now, Y/N.” Somehow, the way he calls your name in that low tone instead of pretty sends goosebumps down your spine. He keeps eye contact while his fingers keep moving inside of you. He starts pulling them in and out, and you close your eyes for a moment, feeling shockwaves of pleasure every time he does so. Your breath gets shallow and quick, and out of instinct, you start bucking your hips, following his movements.

He mouths your clit once again while his fingers are still busy, making you moan louder. “R-Right there, Jimin-“ you stutter in a breathless voice. “Just like that…”

You don’t need to ask twice - he keeps hitting the same spot as his mouth works on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue over it, slurping all of your juices. You grip his hair for dear life, incapable of doing anything but moan and hiss and sweat, feeling your legs shake. You also think Jimin looks so fucking hot right now - head between your legs, hair an absolute mess (your fault), wet lips and the hungriest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life.

It might be because you’ve been touch starved for a while, or because Jimin eats pussy too well, or because you’ve been dreaming of this moment with him - but you already feel the orgasm building up. “Don’t fucking stop,” you beg him - and he obeys, sucking and licking mercilessly; maybe even Steven down there can hear the squelching noise your pussy makes every time his fingers move, or your moans that make Jimin feel the hardest he’s ever been. A small pool of your juices forms on the glass under you, dripping from your entrance. Jimin works on your cunt like his life depends on it. You feel the overwhelming heat building up in your stomach, your body shaking, your lungs failing-

You grip Jimin’s hair hard and yank him away from your pussy as the orgasm hits (you pulled so hard that it hurt his scalp - and he loved it); he also loved how tight you clenched his fingers as the orgasm made you convulse, just imagining how it would feel to be inside you. He watches you with pride, all covered in sweat and helpless, your face contorted in pleasure.

He takes his fingers out of you slowly, standing straight again to press his lips on yours - and you don’t care to taste yourself on his lips. Your legs are still weak and trembling when one of his arms once again wraps around your waist and he helps you stand up on the floor, never breaking apart.

“Baby, I need you around me.” He whispers between kisses - and it almost sounds like a whimper, which makes your legs even weaker. “Will you get on your knees for me? Hmm?”

It’s your turn to obey promptly - Jimin ate you out so good that he deserves it. Without saying anything, and still keeping eye contact, you get on your knees, batting your lashes prettily at him while your fingers work on his belt. Jimin takes some strands of hair away from your face, mesmerized; ever since you first met, he always looked at you in a way that made you feel attractive, and right now it has just increased tenfold.

Jimin unzips his pants and frees his cock from his black boxers. You gulp at the sight of his girthy, veiny cock; he’s stone hard, pulsating, and you wonder exactly how long he’s been hard already. He pumps himself slowly, while you once again lock eyes.

“Shit- you look even better than I imagined.” He says in a low, breathy tone. Just the fact that your usually fierce and unbashful persona is obediently kneeled down in front of his dick, looking up at him with sweet round eyes (you’re too good at this), eyes clouded still recovering from your high, almost sends him over the edge.

You stick your tongue out and lick his pink tip, immediately earning a hiss of pleasure. Your lips wrap around the tip and you suck gently at first, teasing him, never breaking eye contact, while he still pumps himself. Jimin gulps, licking his wet lips; the sight itself makes you tighten your pussy around nothing.

“Open your mouth for me.” He says - and this time it doesn’t sound like he’s asking, meaning he’s more desperate. You promptly do so, sticking your tongue out again. He slaps his cock against your tongue, hissing - and it’s fucking evil how you’re smiling right now, he thinks - while his other hand grips the hair at the top of your head firmly.

He pushes in. Fuck - he’s big and fat and you gag around him, but at the same time, he tastes delicious, if it even makes sense. Jimin closes his eyes and throws his head back, starting to roll his hips against your face, as his hand still keeps your head in place and your lips tighten around his cock.

“Shit– you look so good with my cock stuffed down your throat,” he hisses, increasing the speed of his thrusts. Drool and spit drip from the corners of your mouth, you gag and whimper, but it’s the daring gaze locked on his that tells Jimin he can just keep going. “So obedient, baby, taking me like a big girl… fuck– I want to cum all over your face.”

You hum with his dick in your mouth, sending vibrations that make him groan with pleasure. His balls slap on your chin every time he thrusts, and you keep your lips tightened around him, trying to give him the pressure he needs. There’s something sensual about you being naked while he’s still fully clothed - and you never thought you’d feel this way for anyone. He looks so hot with sweat covering his forehead, strands of hair falling over eyes, half lidded eyes and parted lips in a face of pure pleasure; fuck, you’d let him fuck your throat whenever he wanted, you’d suck him forever if it meant you would have this sight every time you did it.

His grunts and moans and hisses make you melt every time, even though his movements become more and more uncomfortable as he stuffs himself in your throat in quick thrusts that make you whimper and feel tears grow in your eyes. As if sensing this, Jimin yanks you off his cock and you gasp for air. He smiles at how messy you look right now, with drool dripping from your mouth and a thin layer of sweat over your forehead.

“C’mere,” he breathes out, helping you get up and hurriedly guiding you towards a nearby sun lounger. Closer to the yacht’s balcony, the ocean breeze hits your body harder, making you shiver. “How do you want me to fuck you, hm?”

Without saying a word, you smile devilishly before getting on your fours for him; you arch your back and purr like a cat, ass up, chest touching the lounger. You're still smiling and biting your lip when you look at him from over your shoulder, mesmerized by the sight of your stretched pussy.

Jimin steps closer and massages your asscheek before slapping hard, earning you a soft hiss. “You’re amazing. Can’t stop saying that. You’re perfect, baby.” He grips your hip with one hand while the other guides his cock to your entrance, getting the tip wetter with your juices. “You’re so good that you make me wanna fuck you raw, baby.”

Truth is - you didn’t even think of protection, and you couldn’t care less in this moment, as wrong as it is - but God, when Jimin finally pushes in, stretching your pussy as both of you moan in pleasure, you couldn’t be more thankful that his cock is uncovered so you can feel his skin purely.

Your breathing fails and you grip the fabric of the lounger tight, adjusting to the pressure and the slight pain it causes. Jimin pushes balls deep in, slowly at first, throwing his head back in delight. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, pretty…”

He starts to thrust in and out, making you moan each time with the glorious friction you desired so much. “Fuck– f-feel so good, Jimin…” you purr, arching your back even more. He grips both sides of your hips firmly, increasing speed with each thrust; the sound of skin hitting skin repeatedly is everything you can hear beside yours and Jimin’s moans and grunts.

Every nerve in your body seems to be on fire. His cock punches deep into your pussy, pushing you closer and closer to actual insanity as your mind becomes incapable of noticing anything but the feeling of him hammering inside of you over and over again, his strong grip on your hips, stuffing you even better than you had fantasized. Sweat covers all of your body now, and the necklace hurts your collarbones since you’re pressed against the lounger, but you couldn’t care less right now.

“I love hearing you moan, pretty.” He sounds out of breath and sexy. You gasp in surprise when, suddenly, he grips your hair and pulls it, forcing your head back. It burns your scalp; you hiss in pain, but the pain mixes with the overwhelming pleasure and somehow doubles it. “Fuck– this pussy’s all mine. You’re all mine.”

You never thought Jimin was the possessive type, but people babble whatever comes to their minds when they fuck, right? That’s why, mindlessly, you have the audacity to agree: “Y-Yeah, baby, I’m all yours– ah!”

He pulls your hair even harder at the same time he takes it all out just to slam himself balls deep in again in a way that lets you see stars and drool. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck– he’s merciless, relentless in his quick pace, ruthless in the way he grips you and spanks your ass - but, at the same time, his mouth is full of praises, grunting how good you feel or how pretty you are.

You whine in protest when he pulls out entirely without warning. “Turn around, I want to watch you getting fucked.”

Once again, you do as he said without complaints - but instead of immediately laying back again, your hurried fingers unbutton his shirt and you make him take it off, which Jimin does gladly, since the fabric was already glued to his body due to how much he was sweating. You lay back; Jimin grabs your legs and puts both knees over his shoulders.

He takes his cock with one hand while the other holds one of your thighs, slapping it on your clit a few times. You watch his face distort with pleasure when he pushes inside of you again. Jimin picks a fast pace from the beginning, holding both of your thighs, focused as if he’s on a mission; all you can do is moan and whimper helplessly, massaging your own breasts while Jimin drives both of you closer to your highs.

He watches the way your tits bounce with each thrust, your face covered with sweat, the way not even the ruined makeup makes you look ugly - and the fact that you’re wearing anything but diamonds somehow arouses him even more. You clench around him, pushing Jimin closer and closer to the edge. Neither of you are worrying about being quiet right now, and you can only hope that the ocean will be your ally in muffling your desperate moans.

But you’re suddenly forced to worry about it.

The sound of voices and steps yank both of you back to reality at the same time.

Jimin stops moving. You and him look to the stairs barely five meters away at the same time.

Two voices coming closer.

“Sir, please-” you hear. It’s Steven’s voice - worried, almost freaked out.

And the second voice-

“B-But I’m sure I left it here somewhere…”

You both recognize it instantly.

A very drunk Jungkook.

You look back at Jimin with horror, eyes open wide, as he lets go of your legs and lays on top of you instead, shushing you.

“Sir, please,” Steven’s panicked voice echoes again. “As I told you, the upper floors were waxed… you can’t go upstairs, it’ll ruin your shoes,” yeah, he came up with a smart excuse. But Jungkook keeps babbling about losing something, too drunk to understand.

If he comes upstairs, he’ll immediately see you. You’re not in a hidden spot at all. You want to get up and hurry away-

But then you look at Jimin again and he’s smirking devilishly.

He thrusts again, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

Before you can moan - he covers your mouth with his hand.

Your eyes talk. Are you seriously doing this?

His eyes talk back. Yeah.

He thrusts again.

And again.

Your eyes roll back, you entangle your legs around his waist. Fuck, these men down there could come upstairs at any moment. They can hear you if you’re loud enough. If they come upstairs and see you in this situation, you don’t know if you’ll get over the embarrassment. But Jimin’s cock is stuffing you so deep and so good. He hits your spot again, and again, and again, and his dick is thick and heavy, and he could tear you open that you wouldn’t mind - so you don’t push Jimin away. No, you tighten your legs around him because don’t he dare stop; you grip his back, you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet, but the fact that Jimin can still hear your muffled moans against his hand makes it hard for him to endure this much longer.

He hides his face on your neck in an attempt to muffle his own moans, biting your shoulder in a torturous slower pace now - if he goes too hard, the sound of skin hitting skin will be heard from the floor below. A part of your mind registers that Steven is desperately trying to lead Jungkook out of the yacht, while all the other parts are focused on Jimin’s member inside of you, his weight over your body, his teeth sinked on your shoulder. You can’t stop, neither does he. It’s like you’re in some type of trance.

After long, torturous minutes, you hear the voices going away.

Jimin is ruthless.

He lets go of your mouth and supports his body with his forearms on both sides of your face, pounding in despair; neither of you can take this much longer, it’s getting painful.

“F-Fuck, pretty, you did so well-” he somehow manages to breathe out, smirking in boyish excitement. “Such an obedient girl, hmpf, keeping quiet while I fuck you good…”

“Oh my God–” you whimper, feeling the second - and more intense - orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach. “D-Don’t fucking stop, Jimin–”

“Yes, baby, I’ll make you cum again–” he swiftly leans away and places one leg over his shoulder again, spreading you in an even better angle. “You deserve it, baby- shit, shit, shit–”

He punches inside of you over and over and over again until your walls are clenched and convulsing and your toes curl and your eyes roll and you grip the fabric of the lounger tight and your whole body shakes in an explosive orgasm. You’re breathless, weak; it was an almost out of body experience. Did you ever cum this hard before? You don’t think so.

And it’s not time to think of yourself, actually, because when your brain starts recovering from the high, you realize that Jimin had pulled out and is pumping his cock desperately, trying to reach his high. You grab his wrist, stopping him, and - Jimin almost loses it - you meow: “C’mere, come in my mouth.”

You sit up and he kneels over you until his member is on your face and, without wasting a second, you put it all into your mouth until you feel him in your throat, sucking him eagerly. Jimin moans and grips your hair while you pump your head over his length, producing loud suction noises. You just want him to cum as hard and good as he made you.

“Fuck– fuck, Y/N, I’m coming–” he warns in pant, pulling his cock out of your mouth.

You still keep it open, though, sticking your tongue out, as Jimin blows his load on you. You feel his hot seed dripping on your face, feel it on your lips and tongue. You patiently wait until he’s milked dry. Then, you open your eyes.

Jimin’s hair is an absolute mess. He’s all sweaty, panting heavily, face flushed, shaking slightly; you’ve never seen him look so glorious.

He opens a tired smirk.

And, with your gaze locked with his, you lick your lips and swallow.

It’s like he came again just seeing you do this.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

It is your turn to chuckle.

Yeah.

Maybe you will.

You let cum drip on a million dollar necklace.

#bts #jimin x reader #park jimin #jimin smut #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #jimin x you #jimin fanfic #jimin imagine #bts imagine

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berberriescorner · 1 year

Text

“Are You Listening?”

Part Three: “Bad Idea”

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: It’s part three…expect the unexpected.

Warnings: Profanity, angst, fluff, drinking, and drama.

Word Count: 5,900+.

A/N: I just wanted to thank my lovelies again for showing this story so much love. I had no idea people would love it this much. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks💓. Enjoy the chaos😂😏😈.

"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist:

Apple Music.

Spotify.

Part One Here.

Part Two Here.

Inspired By:

Dark clouds filled the evening sky as a drizzle fell against your windshield. Your thoughts were adrift as you fought to make a proper decision. There were only two choices. Accept the offer and hope for a positive outcome, or leave immediately. The loud vibration of your phone halted your decision-making. Sucking in a shaky breath, you accepted the call. It was your best friend. The word hello barely left your lips as she began firing off questions.

“Did you make it to your destination safely? Are you sure it’s smart to be around him right now? Should you trust him?”

You cut your friend off.

“Sis, calm down. Let me answer at least one of your questions.”

“Seriously though, Y/N. How did he find you?”

“He didn’t find me, per se. We’re just in the same state, city, and establishment. Ironic as it may seem.”

“That’s just a little too coincidental for my liking. Look, just be careful and keep your guard up dealing with him. Y/N, you’ve got enough shit going on. There’s no need to fan the flames. Your situation is bad enough. Accept his offer but keep your head on a swivel. Now, take your ass inside that building. Call me once you’ve settled for the night. Do you need money, sis?”

“How’d you know I’m sitting in the car? Yes, I’m good on cash. I withdrew half of our joint account before I left town. I should’ve emptied the account and made his damn pockets hurt.”

“It’s my job to know. You’re my best friend. I agree you should’ve drained that account, girl.”

You inhaled, attempting to calm your nerves, “alright. I’m going in. I’ll call you later with an update. Love you, sis.”

Even after ending the call, you spent a few more minutes in the driver's seat of your vehicle.

Oh, fuck this. Let me just see where it goes. It’s been years since I’ve been here. It wouldn’t hurt to accept the help of a familiar face.

Exiting the car, you enabled the lock as you walked towards the luxurious hotel lobby. Halfway across the threshold, you felt his presence to your left.

“I was starting to think you had changed your mind. It was as if I could see the thoughts racing through your pretty little head from the lobby window, sweetheart. I’m glad you decided to accept my assistance.”

“I’m not sure I’ve decided to do so. Listen, I appreciate the hotel recommendation, but don’t you think it’s odd, maybe even inappropriate?”

“Why’s that? Are you afraid that I’ll inform your husband of your whereabouts?”

“Cut the shit. Why are you being so helpful? What’s the real motive here?”

“Listen, believe it or not, we’re family. Just because you’re mad at Rio doesn’t mean I should just leave you out here all alone. I don’t plan on telling him I saw you. There are no plans to notify him of your location. I’m securing a place for you to stay because I wouldn’t feel right leaving you to sort everything out alone. I have no idea why you’ve left my dumbass cousin. The fact that you packed your bags and just left suggests it’s serious. I won’t pry. Tell me or don’t, but I will secure and pay for your entire stay here. No arguments.”

“If Christopher finds out you’re helping me stay away from him, he’ll explode. The two of you already have a strenuous relationship.”

“If he finds out. Then he’ll just have to get over it. I honestly don’t give a damn, darlin’.”

“What are you even doing in California, Nick?”

“I’m here on business.”

“What kind of business?”

“I’ll answer that once you explain why you left your husband. What exactly did my cousin do, sweetheart?”

Rolling your eyes at Nick, you walked over to the hotel clerk. She greeted you with a warm welcome, offering you help. Giving her your last name, she informed you that you were staying in the penthouse. About to object and ask for something smaller and less expensive, Nick interjected.

“It’s already been taken care of, cousin.”

Your head snapped in his direction with an incredulous expression.

“Are you out of your mind? No, on second thought, you're not paying for my stay here. I’m not letting you put me in a penthouse and allow people to think I’m your whore. Do you have any idea how that will look, Nick? Are you crazy? You must want Christopher to kill both of us. No wonder you two don’t get along. You love pushing his buttons. The whole damn family’s crazy.”

“Are you finished with your little tirade?”

“I see that you’re also a sarcastic asshole like Christopher.”

“Did you miss the point where I had no intentions of Rio finding out? Just take the room, and enjoy the luxury. I’m sure my cousin has been putting you up in the nicest of places since the day he laid eyes on you.”

“I’m starting to feel like you’re implying I’m a gold digger. Tread lightly. I’d hate to have to kick you in the nuts. Now do us both a solid and change the damn room. Be glad that I’m accepting your help, to begin with.”

“I think it’s best if you know something. I'm just as pushy and controlling as your old man, sweetheart. We both know I’m helping and paying, no matter what you say.”

“Switch. The. Damn. Room,” you growled.

“Fine. Jesus, you’re just as stubborn as your husband.”

“That offer to kick you in the balls still stands. Please stop tempting me.”

“I have a business meeting here at the hotel. I made arrangements for my associate to stay here for a few days. He’s a man of luxury. I’ll switch the rooms for the two of you.”

“Yes, do that, Nick.”

“I’ve got to admit I enjoy hearing you say my name.”

You had grown tired of his antics and landed a sharp jab on his chest.

“One more inappropriate comment and I’ll leave to figure things out myself. I don’t know what you think is happening between Christopher and me, but we are married.”

Not for long, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Even if I were single, I wouldn’t give you a second glance, honey. Please do not fool yourself.”

“Why is that? Am I not rough enough around the edges, like your hubby?”

“You honestly want to know?’

Nick shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “sure, why not?”

“You’re overly arrogant, and your sense of entitlement is ridiculous.”

He started to interject, but you pressed on.

“I’m no fool, Nick. Deep down inside, you’re hoping that somehow, some way, Rio finds out. I see you. You’ve been sparring with my husband his entire life. You’ve spent your life trying to prove that you are the bigger, better man than Rio. What’s the difference between you two? Nick, you’ve spent your entire existence having everything handed to you. All while my husband did the heavy lifting, grunt work, and the bids. Or have you forgotten about that? Rio earned his empire. He got it out the mud. You just sat and watched, sticking your hand out to take a chunk when it was all said and done. While Rio can be arrogant, it’s warranted. He can talk his shit and back it up.”

Although I’m pissed to the highest level and treading the waters of divorce, I’ll be damned if he sits here and insults everything Rio has worked hard to accomplish.

“Do not flatter yourself. You’re nowhere near half the man my husband is.”

Even if he is a cheating ass bitch.

“Such a beautiful, passionate rebuttal, and yet you’re here. With me, might I add, after walking out on mi primo. Let’s just call a truce. I’ll try not to flirt with you, but I won’t lie and say my cousin doesn’t have good taste,” he teased.

I just insulted him, and he’s still thirsty. Lord, help me.

“For the love of God, Nick!”

“Okay, I’ll back off. Now let’s get you settled into your room, shall we? I’ll accompany you back to your car. Carry your bags up to your room,” he responded, throwing his hands up in surrender.

With squared shoulders, you lifted your chin into the air.

“That won’t be necessary. Don’t you have a meeting to get to?”

“Why do I feel you’re trying to get away from me? Are my good looks too much of a temptation for you?”

“Boy, stop! Don’t nobody want your shallow, overconfident, big-headed ass.”

“You’re so mean, mama.”

Did this motherfu-I know he didn’t just say that! Now he’s pushing it!

Moving closer, you crowded his space. The smirk dancing along the corners of his lips proved he knew the nickname he used was out of line and disrespectful. You looked around. Making sure he’d be the only one to hear what you had to say. Through clenched teeth, your words dripped with venom.

“So long as we both have breath in our bodies, don’t you ever make the mistake of calling me that again. Please do not get it confused or twisted. Rio did not marry a weak bitch. Call me that again. I’ll do Rio a solid and spray you full of bullets myself.”

“Aww, why not, sweetheart? Does it make you miss hubby?”

“Keep playing with me, Nick. It won’t be funny to you when I want to laugh too. I’m over this conversation. Thank you for the room. Now, leave me alone. Go make yourself someone else’s problem.”

“Fine. I’ll come by and check on you later, prima.”

“No, you will not. Goodbye, Nick.”

If Christopher finds out about this, he will lose the little sense he has left. Wait, why do I even care? It’s fuck him from here on out.

“I Gave You More Than You Wanted. I Gave You More Than You Needed. So Tell Me, How Does It Feel To Lose The One You Believe In?”

-Chloë.

The suite turned out to be very spacious and elegant. Much better than the cramped room you had stayed in the night before. You trudge through the doorway of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. It hadn’t taken long for you to unpack and settle in. Fresh out of a hot shower, you mope to the bed and fling yourself backward. Thoughts race through your head. You hadn’t taken the time to soak in everything. You were too busy trying to run from the situation at hand. Yes, there had been many crying sessions and stewing in anger. Now that you were in another state and settled, it hit you.

Did I just walk away from everything I’ve known for the last four years? The one person I trusted with my heart. My soul. He ripped it out and stepped on it. The audacity. The unmitigated gall to play with my love and emotions. Did he? Rio did that shit, right? How can he possibly have a reasonable explanation?

“You Never Miss A Good Thing ‘Til It Leaves You. And Finally, I Relaize That I Need You. I Want You Back. Baby Girl, I Need You Back. Gotta Have You Back, Babe.”

-Usher.

Just as the tears started to roll down your face, a call came through. You huffed, tapping the ignore button. Seconds later, it started again. The call went unanswered a second time, and a text came through.

It’s me. Please answer your phone.

The phone lit up once more. With a heavy sigh, you accepted the call.

“What do you want, Mick? I don’t want to talk to him, and he knows that.”

“Since you won’t communicate with him. I’m in charge of finding out if you’re okay. I’d personally like to know myself. You good boss lady?”

“Mentally and emotionally, we both know the answer is no. Physically? I’m breathing and somewhat eating. That’s the best I can give you. I appreciate you checking on me. As for your boss? He can go fuck himself. Goodbye, Mick.”

“Hold up, boss lady. I need to see it for myself.”

Mick sent a FaceTime request. With an irritated sigh, you angle the camera so he’d only see your face and a white wall. You begrudgingly accepted the call.

“See. Just fine.”

He frowned as he looked at your red puffy eyes. Mick could tell you hadn’t been sleeping much.

“Yes, I’m aware my eyes are puffy. I’ll be fine. Bye, Mick.”

Mick was about to plead with you to come home, but his face vanished from the screen. Your eyes sparked with resentment and anger as Rio appeared.

“Mama…”

“What part of I don’t want to speak to you don’t you comprehend,” you spat.

“Can you just fuckin’ listen to me?”

“You suddenly have so much to say! That’s because you no longer have me sitting at home. I’m no longer playing my role as your stupid little unsuspecting wife. No, not anymore. Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t call, don’t text me. Tell your boys to stop looking for me. There is nothing we need to discuss!” “Oh, I’ma keep calling and texting. Please, believe me. Mama, I will find you. You’re coming home; we gon’ work this shit out. Just let me explain everything. You’ll feel silly when it’s all said and done, darlin’.”

“You Didn’t Say It, But You Said It…”

-Chloë.

“Did you fuck that bitch, Rio?”

He looked at you with anger written on his face as his jaw flexed.

“That’s what the fuck I thought. Silence speaks volumes. Fuck out my face. Go find your whore and live a shitty life.”

“Ma-.”

You ended the FaceTime, not giving him another moment of your time.

I'm Going Out Of My Mind, And I'm Running Out Of Time. Oh, I Just Wish I Could Find You, Girl.

-Usher.

Rio stood there, rage coursing through his body. He gripped the phone in his hand tightly, “Fuck!”

“Anything I can do,” Mick questioned.

Rio took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He handed Mick his phone.

“Let’s take a ride. Red better have a plan. If I don’t get my wife back soon, it’s game over for her.”

“You think she’s the reason behind this?”

“It doesn’t appear that she knows what’s going on. We both know that her innocent deer-in-headlights expression can sometimes be a facade.”

“You’re right about that.”

“We have to find her. I have to fix this. Real shit, man, I need her. I love that stubborn ass woman.”

“Then let’s handle business and get her back.”

“Loved You More Than Ever, More Than My Own Life. The Best Part Of Me I Gave You, And It Was Sacrificed.

-Beyoncé.

Still reeling from the conversation, you tossed your phone across the bed. Everything was just too much. You were overflowing with anger, sadness, and grief. The betrayal of it all had you drowning. A sorrowful cry spilled from your lips as you curled into a ball. You remained in that position, cradling your face until sleep consumed you.

Hours later, your eyes fluttered open. The sun had set, and your room darkened from nightfall. Your feet flung off the side of the bed as a headache throbbed in your temples. The rumbles coming from your stomach echoed throughout the room.

I haven’t had shit since this morning. This stupid ass man got me going through it. I need a damn drink.

You called the front desk to ask if room service was still available. To your surprise, the clerk recommended the hotel restaurant. She explained that both tables and bar space were available. You thanked her for the recommendation as you dug through your wardrobe.

Let me at least look presentable. I can’t be walking around this nice hotel looking bummy. If I play my cards right, I may find my next husband. Nope, scratch that. Fuck these cheating ass men.

Rio sat slumped in the passenger seat with Mick at the wheel. Leaning back on the headrest with his hood pulled up. Rio sat there as his mind kept going over everything. They pulled into the park, waiting for dingbat and her crew. Once they were in sight, Rio gave his boy a nod. Mick exited the car, exchanging duffle bags with Beth. She told him she would have the next one ready at the appointed time.

“Did you find a way to handle the situation we discussed the other day?”

Beth shook her head with pleading eyes. She promised to find a way to get to the bottom of it. Mick nodded in reply. As she started to leave, Mick halted everyone’s movements.

“Backseat now. We’re going for a ride.”

With a frightened look, Beth started walking toward the vehicle. Mick stopped her again.

“Not you. I’m talking to you half pint,” Mick ordered, pointing at Annie.

Annie’s eyes stretched wide as the three women gawked at him. With a devious smile, he taunted, “don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of her.”

Beth walked over to the passenger window and pounded on it. She took two steps back when Rio rolled down his window. The look he gave stole the breath from her lungs.

“Is there a problem, darlin’,” his question dripped with danger.

“I told you I would get you answers. I-I just need a little more time.”

“That’s cool, but you may want to watch your nephew for little sister. His mama’s going to kick it with Mick for a bit. Got a little side hustle for her.”

“I can do it.”

“Did I ask you to?” Rio snapped.

“Please keep her safe,” she whimpered.

“Get me that information. Baby sister will come back better than she left. Stay safe, Elizabeth. We don’t want anything bad happening to the little mama to be right? It’s not very responsible of you to be downing liquor bottles, don’t you think,” Rio questioned in a knowing tone.

Elizabeth looked at him with fear in her eyes.

“I notice everything, darlin’. We’re going to take a ride tomorrow. Just the two of us. Check on the little bambino.”

He rolled up his window before she could say anything else. They sped off, leaving Beth to explain everything to Ruby.

Not wanting to turn too many heads, you settled on a simple black dress. You figured it was appropriate, given that it matched your mood. The form-fitting bodycon paired well with the dark red heeled sandals and lipstick you sported. Checking that the room key was inside your handbag, you exited the room.

The hostess gave you a warm greeting. She granted your request for a seat at the bar. As you claimed your spot, the gentleman behind the bar asked for your drink of choice. His eyes had roamed your body from the minute you sat down. It hadn’t gone unnoticed. Prepared to answer his question with disinterest, someone stepped up next to you. Strong hands braced against the top of the bar. A silky baritone sounded, making your breath hitch.

Are you serious? Who else am I going to run into? This day is beyond me. Maybe it’s not him. I have to be trip-.

“She’ll have a whiskey sour. That’s what she used to drink whenever a frown touched that beautiful face.”

Yes. That would be the one and only.

You turned your head slowly to take in the familiar voice. His face was as beautiful as you had remembered it.

“Hello, mi amor. May I join you? I could use a drink myself.”

Confusion and shock danced across your face. You looked back and forth between the thirsty bartender and your long-lost friend. His eyes connected with yours as that handsome smile crept across his face. He signaled for the bartender to go ahead with the order. Taking the seat next to you, he chuckled at your expression.

“It’s nice to see you after all these years, querida. What brought you back here? Last I checked, you were happily in love. Are you and the husband here on business?”

Hearing him mention Rio snapped you out of it.

“Miguel,” you whispered.

His eyes crinkled as he gave you another beaming smile.

“It’s good to see you again. How have you been? Are you enjoying married life? What’s it been a year or two since the I Do’s?”

The smile that had occupied your lips for a moment faltered. Your eyes started to water as you looked away and faced the bar. Miguel’s hand covered yours gently.

“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Just as you were about to answer him, a familiar pain in your ass sounded off behind the two of you.

“Yes, prima. I’d like to know what’s going on as well. Most importantly, how do you know my associate here,” Nick questioned.

Nick waited for an answer as he sat there looking smug. A knowing look crept onto his face as if he had discovered a secret.

“How do you two know each-wait? Prima? You’re related to her husband?”

“What business are you two dealing in? Are you working with Rio, Miguel?”

Before he could answer, Nick answered for him.

“Relax, prima. It’s my business deal. Rio isn’t involved. We do have individual businesses. We butt heads too much to do everything together.”

“I wouldn’t do business with your husband without telling you, querida. Then there is the fact that we’ve never met in person. The meeting is my first encounter with your cousin. I’m sure you know Rio wouldn’t want to go into business with me.”

“And why is that? He used to tap that or something, prima? Maybe I should give Rio a call.”

“Are you interested in talking about business or not, Nick? That is the only thing that needs to be questioned or discussed,” Miguel responded in an aggravated tone.

“Hey, whatever you say, man. She knows I’m just teasing.”

“Then perhaps you should find someone else to aggravate. The lovely lady certainly doesn’t enjoy it. Is our table ready?”

“Yes,” Nick bit back.

“Then let’s get this over with. I do have other business to attend to. You have my attention for the next hour. We aren’t starting on a good note, wouldn’t you agree, Nick? You need to fix that. I assume the warehouse visit has been scheduled and prepped for tomorrow. Let’s make our way to our reserved table.”

“Right this way.”

Miguel’s hand gave your shoulder a light squeeze before he got up to follow Nick.

“I’m sure you still have Nestor’s number,” he asked, tilting his head toward his security/cousin.

“If you need anything, give me a call. It was a pleasure running into you, querida.”

You gave him a weak smile and nodded softly. Turning back to the bar, you downed the whiskey sour. Your fingers tapped the bar for another. The drink was halfway to your lips when Rio started blowing your phone up. With a deep sigh, you ignore it and turn your phone off.

“Bartender? Go ahead and bring me two more.”

The universe is funny as fuck. This man’s going to find me. I can just feel it.

You rubbed your temples as you contemplated where to go from here. One hour, four drinks later, you sat there wallowing in your pain. Thankfully you had made a conscious decision after the last drink to switch to a glass of red wine. Feeling buzzed, you decided it would be your last drink of the night. Taking your time with it, you nursed it for a while. Just as you had swirled the remaining liquid in its glass, Miguel reclaimed his seat from earlier.

“A penny for your thoughts, querida?”

Your eyes drifted from the stem of your wine glass to Miguel’s face. He noticed that you were slightly inebriated. His hand reached up and brushed your hair out of your face. The palm of his hand rested on your cheek.

“Don’t you have other meetings to get to?”

“I just wanted that smug asshole to hurry up and discuss the deal. The sooner we did that, the quicker your dear cousin would be gone,” he replied sarcastically.

“Hmm. Smug bastard, huh? That best describes his thick-headed ass,” you toast, downing the last of the wine.

“You shouldn’t be drinking at a bar by yourself, amor. I’ve watched half the men in here ogle you the entire time you’ve been here. Come. Nestor and I will escort you to your room.”

Miguel didn’t want to give you time to protest or continue drinking. He paid your tab and held his hand out. You stared at it for a moment.

“Though you’re wearing heels, those cute little legs still dangle from the stool. Come, sweetheart. I promise to be a respectable gentleman. I don’t make it a habit of approaching married women,” he chuckled.

Not giving it any more thought, your hand gently grasped as he helped you down. The elevator ride was quiet. That was until you blurted the one question that lingered in the back of your mind.

“Where’s your wife, Miguel?”

You noticed how his jaw ticked, nostrils flaring slightly.

“She had other plans tonight,” he answered.

Before you could ask him to elaborate, the elevator dinged.

“I do believe this is your floor.”

Miguel placed his hand on the small of your back. Nestor stepped aside, allowing you two to step out first. He asked for your hotel key as you walked down the hall. You turned the corner as you placed the key card in his hand.

“You said the first door on the left, right?”

“Ye-.”

You lost your train of thought as you started to panic. There was a large bouquet of yellow roses in front of your door.

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong, querida,” Miguel asked as he rubbed the small of your back.

The worry in your eyes set off alarm bells in his mind. Miguel took a look and noticed the flowers. The distress about possibly working with Rio. The teasing from Nick. He turned to face you, blocking the view of your door. His hand caressed your face.

“Tell me the truth. Are you in danger? Did you leave your husband, querida,” he whispered as he searched your eyes for the truth.

No longer able to keep the emotions bottled up, your lip trembled as the tears slipped down your face. You nodded slowly. Miguel frowned at the response. He pulled you into an embrace as you cried into his chest. His hands rubbed your back as he attempted to soothe you.

The two of you stayed that way for a few moments. Pulling back from his embrace, you wiped at your tears. Miguel’s hands slid up and down your arms.

“Did he hurt you,” he asked, jaw ticking again.

“Rio would never put hands on me. He-he.”

Unable to finish the sentence, a fresh set of tears spilled.

“Okay, okay. Shhh. I think I’m starting to understand. Come here.”

He embraced you again. Once he calmed you, Miguel escorted you to the door. He nodded at Nestor, signaling him to pick up the flowers. Unlocking your suite, he grabbed the flowers and followed you inside.

“Thanks for getting me here safely. Sorry, I just unloaded all my emotions on you like a crazy person.”

“It’s fine, querida. That’s what friends are for. We were close once. Lost time won’t affect that.”

His thumbs swept residual tears away. He bent to your feet and helped you out of your heels. Standing, he grabbed your hand and held it. His finger lifted your chin.

“Try and get some rest. Come deadbolt the door behind me.”

Following him to the door, you watched as he opened the suite door. Stepping into the hallway, he turned to speak with Nestor.

“Have one of the other men come and watch her door for the night. If it’s not me, no one gets in here. Don’t even let them knock. Watch the door until your replacement gets here.”

Nestor nodded in agreement taking his position in front of your door. Miguel turned to you, his hand running down your arm again.

“If you need me, I’m on the top floor. Just ask whoever is guarding the door to call me. Better yet, here. Call me if you need anything.”

Miguel handed you a card that had both his business and personal number.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“I’m serious.”

“I’ll be fine, Miguel. Rio’s just adamant about us staying together. He would never physically harm me.”

“You can’t blame him for wanting to work it out. Any man would be a fool not to fight for you. Still, if you need me, call me.”

“Yeah, because Emily would just love that. She’s never been fond of me.”

“Don’t worry about her. I’m the least of my wife’s worries at the moment.”

No longer wanting to discuss his personal life, Miguel pecked your forehead.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Locking the deadbolt behind him, you made your way to the bedroom. Stripping out of the tight dress, you bundled up in a complimentary robe. Falling into the couch, you turned your phone back on. Six texts and two voicemails. You rolled your eyes. Noticing the flowers, you mumbled to yourself, “fucking Nick probably snitched. Little shit.”

You snatched the card from the bouquet and flipped it over. Your breathing sped up as your mind started to race.

What the fuck? I don’t need this shit. What next?

Hands trembling, you re-read the card.

“I see hubby’s out of the picture. Who’s going to protect you now? What better way to kick Rio when he’s down? He would probably be beside himself if his precious jewel came up missing. Stay safe, pretty lady.”

To top it off, now I have to run from his ops too? You have to be shitting me!

Snatching the door open, Nestor saw the look of fright in your eyes.

“The flowers aren’t from my husband. I’m pretty sure whoever sent them just threatened me. Tell Miguel I appreciate everything he did tonight, but I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

Nestor talked you down. He instructed you to grab anything needed for the night and lock up. In less than twenty minutes, Nestor was escorting you to Miguel. He was anxiously waiting for your arrival. His hands instantly cradled your face.

“You’re staying with me for the night. We’ll figure out where you’ll go from here in the morning. Sleep in the bedroom. I’ll take the couch.”

“That’s nonsense. I can sleep on the couch.”

“No, you won’t. No arguments.”

“Why are most men in my life so damn bossy.”

“They also seem to have the same types of occupation. You don’t seem to like men who like legal work, querida.”

“Ha, ha. You’re so hilarious.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Those mentioned tend to be extremely successful at it,” Miguel replied with a shit-eating grin.

“Anyway.”

The conversation was interrupted by yet another call from Rio.

“Look, I'm going to have to answer him. I’ve been ignoring him for hours now. I know his veins are about to pop out of his neck.”

You excused yourself, taking the call in his bathroom.

“For someone who’s always so busy, you sure are blowing up my phone. Go back to ignoring me, please. I don’t have the energy to go back and forth with you, Rio. I’m tired and stressed out.”

“Just come home, mama. I’ll leave and stay somewhere else. Just come home,” he slurred.

“Are you at that stupid bar that demands your attention as well? Go home, Rio. Sleep off the liquor.”

“I gotta be near you, mama. Who's going to protect you? What if someone tries to harm you while you’re not with me? I can’t live with that shit. I need my wife to come home. Come on, mama.”

“It’s a little too late to protect me now. Isn’t it? Don’t worry about me, Rio. I can handle this shit myself,” you snapped, quickly regretting the last sentence.

“Handle what shit, mama,” he barked.

Fuck.

He instantly knew something was up.

“It’s okay, Rio. I’m a big girl. Luckily my stupid ass husband taught me how to use a gun. You know I stay strapped.”

“Either come home or tell me where the fuck you are. I’m going to light whatever city you’re in up. Better yet, I’m about to spray any suspected target.”

“Don’t be stupid. There is no need to start a war on my behalf.”

“I’m not going back and forth about this anymore. Tell me where you are.”

“No, goodbye, Rio.”

��Don’t fucking hang-.”

Miguel stood propped against the door frame.

“I know he fucked up, but it sounds like he wants to keep you out of harm’s way.”

“Don’t, Miguel.”

He placed his hands up in surrender.

“If he can’t do that for you, I will.”

Yeah, cause my husband would just love that. Jesus, be a therapist. I need Iyanla to come and fix my life, bruh.

“I Can Understand Why You Want A Divorce Now. Though I Can’t Let You Know It, Pride Won’t Let Me Show It.

-Jay Z.

Rio had been sitting in his bar for a few hours. Though the argument made him even more aggravated, he took your advice. He wasn’t in the mood to take a chance at catching a DUI. Rio instructed Mick to drive him home.

He swaggered into the family room and lounged on the couch. The house was painfully quiet without your presence. Rio’s thoughts drifted to you as his chest tightened at the thought of you being in danger. Sighing, he closed his eyes in an attempt to shake the negative thoughts. Your scent still lingered throughout the house. Nothing seemed to help him shake the memories and intrusive thoughts. His eyes fluttered open, nostrils flaring. Rio was trying to be patient with you, but it was starting to wear thin. You could be mad for however long, but divorce was out of the question. Could he do a better job at loving you? Yes, and he was willing to do so. Would you be willing to give him another chance?

Rio’s buzz had started to wear off. Blowing out a breath, he stared at a picture of you two. The frame on the console table contained a photo from your first anniversary. Shaking his head, he stood up and walked over to the bar cart. Throwing back another glass of brown liquor, he fixed one more and reclaimed his seat. He asked Alexa to play a specific song. The lyrics hit home as he nodded to the beat and recited them. Song Cry by Jay Z flowed through the entertainment system.

“They say you can’t turn a bad girl good, but once a good girl’s gone bad, she’s gone forever. Mourn forever. Shit, I gotta live with the fact I did you wrong forever.”

What happened to everybody deserves a second chance, mama? Damn, I miss my wife.

Sis can't catch a break, huh lovelies😩😆? I hope you all enjoyed part three. More drama to come in part four! I can't wait for you all to read what happens next. Can't say for sure when part four will be done and ready for posting. I'm still taking things slow. Please, please, please love, reblog, and comment. I would love to hear from you all. My ask box is open as well. I missed y'all, man!

Be sure to check out the playlist I created for this fic. It's on both Apple Music and Spotify. The links are towards the top of this post (in case you missed. Still adding to it, so if you have any song suggestions just drop an ask. The playlist is pretty lengthy and it's best on shuffle in my opinion. Thank you once again for all the support. Words can't express how appreciative I am. Love y'all🥹🫶🏾! Keep scrolling for another bomb-ass mood board (saved it for the end so it wouldn't spoil the reveal)🥰.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics

Taglist:

@4everbrookemarie @nightlywords7 @amorestevens @rio-reid-whoreee @abcdestinyyyy @hihellogoodbyebruh @sunshine-flower @lemmewritesomeish @catxo @naughtyslashers @realhotgurlshit @peaches007 @gardenof-venus @aizawash0e @minton131 @novaniskye @90sisthenew80s @cjricks98 @skyesthebomb @myownworstenemydw @lifeofthelovelyone @tashawar @gabbywontlose @skelly-baby @adg1115 @blessedboo @fandomcitysstuff @drinaj @being-worthy @sxkxna @elliesrealgf @batgurl42 @gotbeefbitch-blog @thedopestblackgirl @imjustheretoreads-blog @memeaaaa @djconde58 @astoldbychae @fineanddandy @1andonlytashae @alertyoulikeitsamber @blackmissfrizzle @darqchilddaydreamz @heytaewrites

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aflame4goinghome · 2 months

Text

Illicit Affairs

d.r.w x reader

chapter ii

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!!! swearing, flirting, power dynamic; SMUT: fingering, touching, sexually implicit language, dirty talk, oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, slight choking, sir kink, spanking, a little bit of degradation, praise kink, hint of dom/sub dynamic

A/N: This story is in collaboration with my wonderful, talented friends @gretavanstink & @childinthegardenn!! Go give them a follow and give @gretavanstink’s fics some love! Thanks for sticking with us! We’re so glad you like the story so far :) Enjoy!

Listen to the official playlist on Spotify here!

chapter i

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

As you stand in the hall waiting for the elevator to open, you pull your phone out and see another text from Rose.

From: Rose🌹

HELLOOOOO? Are you alive?

The doors slide open and you step inside, pressing the button for the third floor and leaning back against the wall as you type a response to her.

To: Rose🌹

He made me stay back after everyone else left. CHECKED THE CLASSLIST LIKE HE DIDN’T KNOW MY NAME and told me to “hang back for a sec”

You press send and shove your phone back in your pocket as the elevator doors slide open. Stepping out, you turn your head to look down both sides of the hall and see a sign that points toward offices 311 to 321. You follow the sign, stopping in front of his closed door, and glance around for somewhere to sit. There’s an uncomfortable-looking bench tucked into an alcove across from his office and nothing else. Better than the floor, you think as you take a seat, plopping your bag down next to you. Your phone buzzes with another text from Rose as you notice the faux stained glass privacy shade Daniel has on his office window.

From: Rose🌹

Oh, he’s evil. What are you gonna do?

To: Rose🌹

I DON’T KNOW. He told me we should talk privately so now I’m just sitting here outside of his office waiting for him to get back from a meeting with another prof

From: Rose🌹

You’re insane, I love you. Keep me updated, I’m heading into another class🩷

To: Rose🌹

Love you too, I will🩵

You slip your phone into your back pocket and cross your legs, unsure of how long he is going to keep you waiting. Ten minutes pass with no sign of him and you let out a sigh, rifling through your bag and pulling out Dante's La Vita Nuova. You flip to your current page and set your bookmark on your leg, letting your back rest against the wall as you skim the page.

After about twenty minutes, you hear the clack of dress shoes on tile from around the corner and your stomach flips, recognizing the sound from class as Daniel paced around the room. You fix your posture and pretend to continue reading even though your brain is too scattered to absorb anything.

Daniel rounds the corner and sees you waiting, a smug grin forming on his lips as he approaches you. Stopping in front of you, he plucks your book from your hands and glances at it before looking down at you and winking. He leans down and lifts your bookmark off your thigh, slipping it between the pages and placing the book back in your hands. Your eyes follow his every move, focusing on his hands, as he unlocks his office and steps inside, leaving the door open. You slip your book back into your bag and stand, slinging it over your shoulder as you step into the doorway.

As you look in, you notice a black leather loveseat tucked between two bookshelves against the wall. The bookshelves are filled with different eras; the Italian Renaissance, the liberation of France, and the Industrial Revolution. Your eyes fall on a copy of Voltaire’s Alzire and a smile forms on your lips. The top shelf boasts a scale model of the Duomo di Siena and a photo of himself in his early twenties during what you assume was a study abroad program. Daniel clears his throat, snapping you back to reality, and you turn his way.

“Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there?” He asks, leaning forward on his desk. His eyes travel down your body before flicking back up to meet your gaze. “Because I’m fine either way.”

You feel your cheeks redden and you step inside, pushing the door closed behind you. You lower yourself into the seat across from his desk and set your bag at your feet. You’re unsure what to say so you sit silently, returning his stare as he looks right through you.

“Well this is certainly a different view than I had the other night,” he finally says, leaning back in his chair. You fight the urge to look at the floor, keeping your eyes trained on him as he stands and moves around his desk to your side. He leans against it and folds his arms across his chest, watching your face for a reaction.

“Daniel…” You say, your voice barely a whisper. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “We have to stop, right?”

Daniel shrugs his shoulders and lowers his arms, bracing himself on the edge of the desk and crossing his ankles. Your eyes leave his face and focus on how his fingers wrap around the edge of the wood, the way his forearms flex and his veins bulge.

“If that’s what you want,” he says, his tone bordering on indifference. A smirk forms on his lips as he notices you staring at his arms again and he pushes off the desk. He walks around your seat and places his hands on the back, leaning down to speak in your ear. “I don’t think that’s what you want though, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel him brush your hair to one shoulder, his lips ghosting over your neck as he says, “No. I think you like this.”

You push yourself out of your seat and walk to the window that overlooks the quad, the closeness making your head spin. After taking a moment to collect yourself, you turn back to face him again, leaning back against the windowsill.

“I think you like it,” you say, bringing your eyes up to meet his as he crosses his arms, watching you.

“You’re right,” Daniel says, closing the distance between you. He places his hands on the windowsill, trapping you between his arms, and looks down at you. “But you didn’t deny liking it.”

He captures your lips with his, one hand moving to the small of your back to pull your body against his. You relent, returning the kiss, as if you were putty in his hands. You didn’t deny it because you couldn’t. Something about him made you feel like a live wire, dangerous. You feel his tongue run across your lips and you part them, letting him in. He breaks the kiss and places more along your jaw, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt and resting on your waist.

“It’s wrong isn’t it?” You ask breathlessly as he continues down your neck. He lifts his head and looks into your eyes but doesn’t let go of you. You can feel your arousal soaking through your panties as he holds you tight to him.

“Says who?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “We’re both adults.”

Daniel lets his hand wander down the outside of your thigh and then between your legs, pausing there and smirking.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want this,” he says quietly, his hand drifting up to the button of your jeans.

“I do, but,” you sigh and place a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly. “I’m your student.”

Daniel takes his hand off of you and backs up, giving you space to breathe. You return to the seat across from his desk and cross your legs, looking at your hands and picking at your thumb absentmindedly as you think. He takes your place, leaning against the windowsill, and waits patiently for you to continue.

“Like, morally, this is wrong,” you say finally, turning your gaze towards him. “And if we get caught it’ll be a world of trouble for both of us.”

“Guess we can’t get caught then,” he says, sitting back down. He leans forward, resting his arms on the desk. “Just think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” you say quietly, nodding. You stand and slip on your backpack and Daniel stands as well, walking you to the door. He pauses with his hand on the doorknob and looks down at you, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Don’t think too hard,” he says, twisting the knob and opening the door.

“I’ll let you know by the end of the week,” you say, smiling softly and stepping into the hallway.

You make your way back to the elevator and press the down button, standing back and waiting for the doors to open. When they slide apart, you step inside, press the button for the ground floor, and lean back against the wall, letting it hold your weight up as you take a few deep breaths. The doors open and you walk through the lobby and out into the afternoon sun.

You pop your earbuds in and start your walk home, your music picking up where it had stopped earlier. Fitting, you think, blowing a short laugh through your nose, as Should I Stay or Should I Go by The Clash flows into your ears. You hum along to the song, your mind replaying what just happened as you wander off campus.

You buzz yourself into your building and jog a little to catch the elevator that another resident held open for you. When you get into your apartment, you toss your bag into the chair at your desk and flop onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. You fold your hands on your stomach and close your eyes, realizing how exhausted you are as you start to drift off.

Your eyes open at the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by Rose’s bedroom door closing, and you check the time on your phone, 4:57 pm. You let out a deep sigh and sit up, knowing you should at least try to read the syllabi for your classes tomorrow.

You walk to your desk and pull the chair out, moving your bag to the floor next to you as you sit down and slide your laptop out of its case. As you type your password in, Rose knocks on your open door and leans on the doorframe, peeking in at you.

“So,” she begins, drawing out the word. “What happened?”

Reading can wait, you think as you turn your chair to face her, pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing heavily.

“He kissed me in his office,” you say, feeling your stomach flip as you say it. “Against the window that looks over the quad.”

Rose’s eyes widen and she steps into your room, sitting on your bed cross-legged. She rests her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands as she waits for you to continue.

“And all I could think was that I wanted him to keep going,” you add, standing and joining her on your bed. You rest your back on the wall and let your head fall back. “What am I gonna do?”

“What do you want to do?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I want to crawl in a hole and come out when the semester is over,” you say, laughing and shaking your head.

“Well that’s not really an option, babe,” she says. You shoot her a look and roll your eyes, drawing a giggle out of her.

“What if I drop the class?” you ask, rubbing your temples. “Then I wouldn’t have to see him. I could just forget the whole thing.”

“Could you really just forget it all though?” Rose challenges, tilting her head to the side. “I mean…he’s really hot, Y/N.”

“I know, Rose,” you say. “I want him. But I’m his student.”

“Who cares,” she says, lengthening the second word. “It’s not like you have to fall in love. Just have good, hot sex.”

You burst into a fit of laughter at the idea, pushing Rose’s shoulder, and fall to lay on your side.

“Alright,” you relent. “Maybe you have a point.”

“What’s the harm?” She adds, shrugging her shoulders. You roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, resting your hands on your stomach. Focusing on the rise and fall of your stomach with your breath, you let your eyes fall closed and think quietly for a few moments.

“Just good, hot sex,” you repeat, opening your eyes and turning your head to look up at your best friend. “I told him I’d let him know by Friday.”

“See, you have time to think about it,” she says, patting your leg reassuringly. “Was he really that good?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and smirk, feeling your cheeks turn pink as you replay the night in the bar in your head.

“Best I’ve ever had,” you say, tossing your head back. “Like…unforgettable.”

“I could just forget the whole thing,” Rose teases, doing her best impression of you. You snap your head back up and slap her arm.

“Shut up,” you giggle. “Get out. I have some things to think about.”

“Oh you mean Dr. Wagner,” she says as she stands, running out of your reach before you smack her again. “I’ll leave you to it.”

She winks and walks out of your room, closing your door behind her and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sigh and sit up, your mind reeling at the way this semester was off to a start you couldn’t have imagined in your wildest dreams. Hopping off your bed, you grab your laptop and crawl under your covers. You give a quick skim over your syllabus for the rest of your classes, trying your hardest to focus as you add some important dates to your planner.

After an hour, your focus is shot and you decide to grab a quick shower, as you always do your best thinking in the warm steam. You strip out of your clothes for the day, deposit them in your laundry basket, and stand looking at yourself in your full-length mirror. Your hand finds the fading purple mark at your collarbone and your cheeks flush as you imagine Daniel’s lips on your skin. You turn your back to the mirror and look over your shoulder, seeing the bruises on your thighs and thinking of the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh.

You let out a shaky breath and slip your robe on before making your way to the bathroom. Shrugging the robe off, you start the shower to let it warm up before you step in. You sigh as the hot water hits your muscles, the tension leaving your body and flowing down the drain with the water. Your mind wanders back to Daniel’s office as you wash your hair and a chill runs down your spine, bringing goosebumps to your arms and legs.

I think you like this, you hear him say in your mind. Tell me you don’t want this.

You rinse out your hair and lean against the wall, your hand reaching down to massage your clit. A sigh falls from your lips as you set a quick pace of circles with your fingers. You imagine Daniel’s fingers working you, his strong hands bringing you closer and closer to release. The hot water beats at your skin as you let your head fall back against the tiles, moaning softly as you feel the familiar tingle in your abdomen.

Come on, sweetheart, give it to me, his voice echoes in your mind, sending you tumbling over the edge as your thighs quiver. You squeeze your eyes closed, his name tumbling from your lips as you ride out your orgasm. Once you’ve collected yourself, you finish your shower and slip your robe back on, wandering back to your room and slipping into your pajamas.

You crawl into bed and close your eyes, making a pros and cons list in your head as you try to find sleep. Pros: hot guy, hot sex. Cons: getting caught, trying to focus in class, morality.

You scoff at the last one. Can you really say you have morality about this when the only thing you wanted in his office was for him to keep going, right there against the window?

What’s the harm, you hear Rose say. Maybe she’s right, what harm could a little fun do?

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

You wake up to your alarm early Friday morning and immediately feel a tight knot in the pit of your stomach. You have to face Daniel again today and finally tell him your answer. You feel slightly giddy over the prospect of getting him alone again, though you do hope that he isn’t going to treat you any differently in class now. You’ll find out soon enough.

The first half of your morning goes by in the blink of an eye. Next thing you know, you’re on your way to the other side of campus for his class. Despite the nervous energy, you still managed to get your assigned reading done. You’re nothing if not committed to academic success, regardless of the situation with Daniel.

Surprisingly, you rather enjoyed the assignment. Since you were taking the course as a core requirement and not as part of your major, you’d never studied art history before. The level of analysis behind different works of art and how they reflect the social and political climate at the time was fascinating to you. You were surprised by how it ended up connecting well with what you’ve learned in your philosophy classes before about politics, so the subject ended up coming rather easily to you.

You walk into the building and open the door to the lecture hall, thankfully not running late this time around. You have about five minutes to spare before the class begins, giving you a better choice of where to sit. You stand there at the top of the stairs for a moment, looking around for a good place to sit, not wanting to be too close or too far from the front. Finally, you decide to take a seat in the middle somewhere, hoping you might possibly be able to blend in with the rest of the crowd.

As you bend over in your seat and take your notebook out of your bag, you start to hear the familiar sound of Daniel’s shoes descending the stairs. Here we go, you think, trying to prepare for the awkward class that’s ahead of you. You place your notebook on the small pull-out desk attached to your chair, then decide to suck it up and look up toward the front of the classroom.

You watch as he sits down at the desk and pulls his laptop out of his leather bag. He doesn’t look up once, focusing on connecting his computer to the projector screen and pulling up his presentation for the lecture. After the presentation pops up on the screen, he pushes his chair back and stands up, finally catching your gaze.

One corner of his mouth turns upward into a half-smirk as his eyes meet yours. He goes to push the rolled sleeves of his black button-down up a bit further on his arms, causing your eyes to drift downward. His biceps peak out of the bottom of his sleeve and you can see the muscles flex slightly as he adjusts the sleeves. You bite your lip almost out of instinct, leaning your arm on the desk and resting your chin on your hand.

Figuring out that you’ve definitely been staring for too long, you look back up to see a full-on smirk across his face. When your eyes lock again, he shoots over a subtle wink before clearing his throat and getting on with the start of class. There’s a lot of chatter going on throughout the room, making it difficult for him to get their attention at first.

“Okay, everyone, settle down,” he says, projecting his voice loud enough to quiet down the room. “Let’s jump right into this first chapter, shall we?”

Daniel uses the remote in his hand to transition to the next slide of the presentation, which shows the first painting from the reading. He starts pacing around the room, walking over to stand on the first step of the stairs as he asks the class for their initial thoughts.

You take the opportunity to look at him closer, thanks to this new proximity. He paired his black shirt with dark gray slacks and his usual black shoes. Your eyes fall on the gold chain around his neck, wondering how much it might have cost, considering how high-quality it looks. He really knew how to put an outfit together, looking expensive yet casual all at the same time– yet another thing that made him annoyingly attractive. You’re still lost in thought when you suddenly hear your name being called, snapping you back into reality.

“Y/N? Are you still with us?” Daniel asks, standing with his arms crossed as he raises an eyebrow at you. You sit up straight in your sight, clearing your throat before answering.

“Oh, um, yes. I’m sorry,” you say, which comes across as almost a mumble.

“I was asking you about what you thought about Liberty Leading The People,” he says, leaning back against the side of the chair on the aisle across from you. “From last night’s reading, assuming that you’ve completed it.” His voice is very matter-of-fact, almost as though he’s catching you in a lie. You won’t give him the satisfaction of embarrassing you in front of the class, that’s for sure.

“I did do the reading, professor,” you answer, your tone having a bit of a bite to it unintentionally as a result of your frustration. “And I thought that the painting was a perfect representation of the heart of the French Revolution. They united as one and fought together to take down their oppressive government.” The smug look on his face immediately disappears as you continue sharing your analysis with the class.

“Liberté, égalité, fraternité, or liberty, equality, fraternity– the phrase that would end up defining the entire future of the French Republic. It represents the foundation of democracy in France and how it united the entire country, despite their differences. The painting symbolizes these founding ideas of democracy and freedom, which we know is still a prevalent theme in France today.”

You finish speaking, looking up at him as you cross your arms over yourself in your seat, waiting for his response. He wanted to catch you unprepared, which he has failed to do. A small smirk starts to appear on his face as he turns around and walks back toward the front of the classroom, pressing the button on the remote to switch to the next slide.

“Very good analysis, Miss Y/L/N. Outstanding, actually,” he says after turning around to face the class. If he’s feeling embarrassed, then he certainly isn’t showing it, but you’re glad to have been able to put him in his place. He uses the small laser pointer on the remote to point to the short bulleted list on the slide as he starts his lecture on the painting.

You hate how much this act of academic praise satisfied you, especially coming from him. You think to yourself that you’d do anything to have it happen again— to be the one that he compliments in front of the entire class. Despite whatever your relationship with Daniel may be, the desire for your knowledge and thoughts to be appreciated and acknowledged by him was intense. You wanted to please him, in more ways than one.

The rest of the class goes smoothly, thankfully. He manages to leave you alone, choosing to call on different students as you discuss other Romanticism paintings from the reading assignment. His eyes drifted to you every once in a while, but you could tell he was pulling his gaze away almost immediately. You knew that he was trying to give you space, which you appreciated. Finally, he dismisses the class and everyone starts to pack up and leave the hall. You’re putting your things back in your bag as you hear him say your name.

“Y/N,” he says, looking up at you from behind his laptop while sitting at his desk. “Good job today.”

You smile at him, picking up your bag and putting it on your back. “Thanks,” you say, approaching his desk at the front of the classroom. Most of the students have dispersed by now, besides a few stragglers. “Do you have time to talk, professor?” you continue, biting your lip afterward as you await his answer. You tried to sound as sweet as possible, knowing that it was unlikely for him to say no.

He smirks, closing his laptop and slipping it into his bag. “Sure, Y/N,” he says, standing up and putting his bag on his shoulder. “Let’s go up to my office, yeah?” He then walks around the desk and begins up the stairs, with you following shortly after him.

As you walk behind him toward the elevator down the hall, you can’t help but notice how much confidence seems to pour out of him as he walks. It was like he owned the place, walking around as though it was second nature to him. You hate to admit how attractive it was, but it was undeniable.

He presses the “up” button for the elevator and you both stand there silently for a moment as you wait for it to arrive. Standing on his left with still a couple of feet between you, you turn your head to look at him. As his head turns to return your gaze, the elevator dings and the doors open.

He walks in first, pressing the button for the third floor and then stepping back as you both watch the doors close in front of you. When the elevator begins to rise, you’re taken aback by his lips crashing onto yours. His hands are planted firmly on your hips as he turns you slightly, putting your back against the wall of the elevator. Your hands begin to tangle in his hair as you feel his tongue collide with yours, making you whine quietly into his mouth.

His lips turn upward into a smirk against yours at the sound of your pathetic noises, but you’re quickly taken out of it as you hear the elevator ding and immediately stop on the second floor. Shit.

You scramble to get untangled from him, stepping a few feet away to the other side of the elevator. The doors begin to open and a professor steps in, seemingly going up to the third floor as well. The professor stands between the two of you as the doors begin to shut.

“Ah, Dr. Wagner!” he says, turning toward Daniel on his left. “Good seeing you! How’re your courses faring so far?” Daniel is calm and composed as he turns to his colleague with a grin and answers him.

“Professor Thomson, it’s great to see you. It’s all going well, but it’s still early,” he jokes, making the professor let out a fit of loud laughter. You, on the other hand, are a total mess. The back of your hair has a slight bump from it being slammed against the wall and your cheeks have turned a deep shade of pink. You just try to avoid the interaction altogether and stare straight ahead until the elevator dings once more and the doors open to the third floor.

The professor steps out first, bidding Daniel a farewell before turning off to the left corridor. Daniel walks out next, turning right and heading toward his office. You can’t help but feel a bit of deja vu as you follow him to his office. This time, however, you were feeling much more confident. You want to show him that you weren’t just a timid, innocent student like he might think you are.

He holds the door open for you and allows you to walk in past him before shutting the door behind you and locking it. You turn on your heels to face him and see his eyes boring through you– you suppose your moment in the elevator affected him more than he let on. Daniel takes a step toward you, leaving only less than a foot of space between you as his eyes study you. The feeling of him looking at you like that almost takes over you and before you even know you’re doing it, you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him close to you, connecting your lips with his.

He groans into your mouth as your hands find their place within his curls and you push his back against the office door. His arms wrap around your waist and his hips connect with yours, bringing his hard, long cock to your immediate attention. Your hands leave his hair and travel down his chest, finally planting on his hips as you slowly lower yourself onto your knees– a position that both you and him were already familiar with.

You look at him through your eyelashes as your hands start to fiddle with his belt, pulling the end through the loop and unclasping it. “Fuck, I could get used to this,” he mutters, reaching a hand down to push some of your hair out of your face. You continue, pulling down his zipper and unbuttoning the top button of his slacks. He helps you the rest of the way, pulling down his pants and briefs just enough for you to be able to pull his cock out of its confines and take it in your hand.

You pump your hand on it a few times before lowering your mouth onto him, licking a small stripe on his tip. He groans, throwing his head back onto the door and using his hand to hold your hair back out of your face. Thoroughly enjoying the effect you seemed to have on him, you decide to take him completely into your mouth until your nose connects with the smooth material of his shirt resting on his stomach, taking him completely by surprise.

“Oh my– fuck!” Daniel mumbles, struggling to even get any words out. His hips thrust into your mouth roughly at the sensation of filling your mouth completely, hitting the back of your throat. You begin to move, taking the lead as you retract your mouth slowly and then push him back down your throat.

The sounds coming out of his mouth as you set a steady pace is enough to get you close to release just by hearing it. You swirl your tongue around his tip and then take him completely into the back of your throat again, gagging around him slightly. As you start to pick up your pace, his hands are pulling your hair back, yanking you off of him. He tucks himself back into his boxer briefs quickly, then brings you up on your feet and his hands cup your cheeks, keeping your attention on him.

“If you keep doing all that, this is gonna end before we even get started, baby…” he says sternly, starting to place hot, wet kisses along your jawline and then down the side of your neck as he pushes you back further into the room. The backs of your legs hit his desk and your hands grip the edge, bracing yourself. “We can’t have that, can we?”

Daniel continues his attack on your neck, beginning to suck on a sweet spot on your bare collarbone. The feelings are taking over all of your senses, overwhelming you so much that all you can muster up is an enthusiastic nod. He pulls his lips off of you, straightening his back as he towers over you, placing his hand on the back of your neck firmly.

“Words, sweetheart,” he says, scolding you. “You’re a big girl. Act like one.” Your eyes widen at his words, though you have to admit that it has you completely dripping wet.

“No, sir. We can’t,” you answer. His lips turn upward into a slight smirk as his hand moves from behind your neck toward the front. His thumb strokes your neck softly before his hand tightens a bit. “Good girl.”

His lips connect with yours once more and you moan into his mouth as his hand tightens a bit more around your throat. His other hand moves up your side to cup your breast, snug inside your tight ribbed tank top. He makes quick work of that, reaching into your shirt and squeezing your breast, then rolling your nipple in his fingers. You whine at the sensation, making him smirk against your lips.

“Yeah, you like that?” he asks, pulling his face back a bit, rubbing his nose against yours as his fingers pinch your nipple again, eliciting another moan from you. “Yes, sir, feels so so good,” you whine, as he places a few soft kisses along your jaw.

Suddenly, he spins you around and pulls you against him, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he presses his lips against the shell of your ear. “I’ve thought about doing this again ever since you walked out of that bathroom,” he mumbles, kissing your neck roughly. His hips buck into your ass as you brace your palms against the wooden desk to keep your legs from crumbling beneath you. “Fuck, so have I,” you utter, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

One of his hands moves from your waist and pushes your back down so that you’re bent over the front of his desk. He lowers his mouth to your ear briefly and whispers, “I’m not gonna be gentle… okay, sweetheart?” You let out a soft moan as his hips press into your ass and you feel his hot breath against your ear. “I don’t want you to be gentle,” you say. He smiles as he places a soft kiss on the shell of your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You whine at the sudden loss of his body against yours as he backs away from you. But that feeling soon changes as you feel his hands back on your waist and his fingers dip into the waistline of your leggings. He bends down and pulls them down over your ass, letting them sit at your ankles. You hear him groan and curse to himself when he sees that you decided to forgo any underwear, since you typically liked to avoid unflattering underwear lines when wearing tight pants like leggings.

His large hands grip your ass firmly, pulling your cheeks apart as he takes in the view. He starts gliding his fingers through your wetness with one hand as the other comes down and smacks your ass, hard. You bite your lip to stifle the loud moan that almost escapes your mouth, being mindful of the need to keep the noise down considering the location. He places a kiss on the spot on your asscheek, soothing the stinging sensation.

He stands up and pulls his briefs back down, taking his cock in his hands and pumping it a few times before towering behind you once again. He brings his mouth back down to your ear as his hips buck into yours and you can feel his painfully hard cock against your ass behind you. “You asked for it.”

Daniel lines himself up with you and pushes himself into you fully. You can feel yourself stretch around him, the sting of it feeling almost welcoming. He grips your waist in one hand as the other holds firm against the small of your back, keeping you still on the desk as he sets a relentless pace inside of you.

The movement of his hips is quick and harsh, the only sound in the room being the sound of his hips smacking against your ass, loud and wet. He’s hitting your cervix repeatedly, and you start to have no control over the noises you make. His hips slam hard into you, causing you to curse loudly. His hand moves from the small of your back to the back of your neck and pushes your head down, making you have to turn it sideways with your cheek flush against the wood. His hand then slides over to cover your mouth, pushing two of his fingers past your lips.

“As much as I love those sweet sounds, you gotta keep it down, baby…” he says as he slams his hips into you again. You groan around his fingers and catch his eye from behind you, seeing a smug smirk across his face. You suck on his fingers as he continues his quick pace inside you and your walls flutter against him, eliciting a moan from him as well. “Goddamn, you are so fucking tight,” he groans, removing his hand from your mouth and moving it to grip your hair tightly, pulling you up from the desk as he slides out of you.

He turns you around and captures your lips for a moment before pulling away. You watch as he quickly rids himself of his pants and boxers entirely, dropping them on the floor and then stepping out of them. He lowers himself to remove your pants from around your ankles then attaches his lips to yours again. His hands grasp your ass and lift you up, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you over to the far left wall of the office, directly in front of the window. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck as his lips stay attached to yours and he places your back against the wall.

You have half a mind to get self-conscious about the proximity to the window but you’re too intoxicated by his touch to care. With your back now flush with the wall, he lifts you up for a moment then pushes himself back inside of you and picks back up on his relentless pace.

His hands grip your ass so tight that you’re sure it’ll leave a mark come tomorrow. You’re genuinely surprised by the strength he must have to be able to hold you up as he fucks into you, which makes your head spin. His lips leave yours and work their way down your neck. When they reach your chest, he halts his hips to bring one of his hands up to pull your breasts from your shirt and bra, allowing them to spill out of the top of your tank top and giving him full access.

“Fuck, what are you doing to me…” he mutters, holding onto you tightly as he starts pounding into you again even harsher. His lips wrap around one of your nipples, sucking and biting on your skin and completely taking you over the edge. You can feel yourself getting close as his hips slam up into you, his tip hitting your sweet spot over and over again from this new angle. He can feel you tightening around him, making him groan against your skin.

“Come on, baby. Make a mess all over my cock, I’m right there,” he urges, attaching his lips to yours again as one of his hands moves from your ass and slips between you, starting to rub quick, rough circles against your clit. It sends you over the edge and Daniel swallows your moan in his mouth as his tongue collides with yours.

He fucks you through it, his pace never slowing as he reaches his own climax shortly after you. He moans against your tongue as you feel his release coat your walls. His hips start to slow, fucking his release into you before lowering your legs to the ground and pulling out, allowing you to stand. Your knees buckle as you get your bearings, but you quickly recover and wrap your arms around his waist pulling him in for a short, soft kiss.

“I guess I got my answer then, huh?” he jests, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he looks down at you with a smug smile. “You’re such an idiot,” you laugh, shoving his shoulder softly, walking past him to pick up your leggings, then sliding them back on. He follows, pulling his briefs up over his hips and then picking his pants up off the floor. As he pulls his pants on and starts to fasten his belt, you decide to speak first.

“I want to do this with you. I do. But we have to set some ground rules,” you say, leaning against his desk and looking up at him. He raises his eyebrows at you as he tucks his shirt back into his pants and then walks toward you.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” he asks, cupping your cheek with his hand and rubbing his thumb softly against your skin. You almost melt into his touch, but you want to stand your ground before you get too soft on him.

“Well,” you start, “First of all, this should be no strings attached– purely physical. I’m not gonna be your girlfriend.” He chuckles to himself before crossing his arms and leaning against the chair next to him. “Who said I wanted you to be my girlfriend?”

“Shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. He laughs again, then answers, “Okay, okay. No strings attached. Shouldn’t be a problem. What else?”

“No telling anyone, besides people who already know. My best friend knew about you immediately after we left the bar last weekend, so it’s too late now,” you continue. He hums and nods his head. “Mine too. Can’t hide shit from Sam even if I tried.”

“Okay, so we keep it a secret. No one else has to know,” you assert. He stands up and puts his arms on either side of you, leaning onto the desk behind you.

“Okay. One more thing,” he says, towering over you. “No falling in love.” You take a deep breath just at the thought of it– falling in love. Yeah, right. As you look up to meet his gaze, you smile softly and nod. “No falling in love.”

After a few more minutes of sharing kisses and continuously attempting to say goodbye, you finally peel yourself away from Daniel and leave his office, heading out of the building and walking in the direction of home. You can’t help how flustered you feel after leaving him, almost not even believing that it even happened. You exchanged numbers before you left, promising to see each other again soon.

You’re feeling anxiously excited to fill Rose in on today’s events when you get home. There were a lot of details that you fear you may need to leave out, things that were too vulgar to even speak out loud. This idea makes your cheeks flush as you think about it on the walk home. You know that you’re way in over your head but hopefully, with the boundaries you’ve set, you won’t get caught up in it all too intensely. As long as you both follow the rules, no one will get hurt… Right?

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

chapter iii

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twstbookclub · 1 month

Text

Faded Away

SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 INCLUDED; THIS IS AN AU. THIS IS SIDE A OF A TWO PART STORY. HERE IS SIDE A.

This is side B.

Inspired by Fade Away by Riley Baron Summary: Childhood friends with Malleus, you were even supposed to marry him. You'd call him your fiancé, but he'd shoot you down with a smile. One day, Maleficia would announce that you would no longer be engaged to Malleus, but you had already decided to renounce that before, so it was okay. For Malleus, after experiencing loss in his life, everything he adored before began to fade away. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Malleus Draconia, Changed fate, Childhood friends to lovers, lovers to strangers, angst with a sad ending, hurt no comfort Word count: 3,961

A/N: … sigh. If someone had told me a year ago that I would write nearly 4,000 words for Malleus Draconia angst, I would've laughed in their face. Despite that, I wrote this for two days and edited it for another two. I fixated on this man for FOUR DAYS nonstop, listening to playlists about falling in love with your comfort character but then saying goodbye, and I am still not done. I am genuinely proud of this work. Out of the 7 years I have been writing fanfiction, I have never been so happy to say this is one of my best works. And I don't really like Malleus like that. Attack me all y'all want, I know book 7 spoilers, and I was his stan(not simp) until I found out the truth and had to take a step BACK. I don't know what I feel about him now, but as a Silver girlie, I need someone to take the pen away from Yana Toboso.

Regardless of my feelings, I am glad I could write this and that the story turned out amazing. As I said, I'm not done, and I have another fic posting as soon as this one drops, so don't stray too far.

On that note, thank you for waiting and reading this long, longer than I would like to admit story. Enjoy.

The horns of this child were small, but the eyes of another child were fascinated at the sight of such a mature boy. The boy’s name was Malleus Draconia, the future King of Briar Valley. You were told that you would become his fiance when you grew up. You could feel your heart instantly pound and become fond of this young royal. You had already known him prior, growing up around the same time, and your families were somewhat close. Still, you couldn’t have imagined being able to marry him later down the line. He was aloof and neutral as a child, speaking to you when you would talk to him and only if he had a response. You loved him that way, anyway.

“You’re my… fiance?”

“I am! Don’t worry; I won’t go anywhere if it’s not with you!”

“Hmm… Then I can accept that.”

Growing up as teenagers was slightly different. It took some years, but he would begin to warm up to you. He would smile occasionally and accept the way you would call him “my fiance”, but still turn you down for the time being. Witnessing him become stressed caused a pang of guilt in your heart. Still, you’d quickly dissipate the feeling by messing around and seeing him feel better with your company.

“My fiance should be calm the way he usually is. How can his kingdom stay calm if he is not?”

Malleus would usually stare at you after you said things like that, then respond with, “You’re right… Alright. I will do that, but I’m not your fiance.”

Then, like clockwork, you’d laugh at him before responding, “Okay, okay, Prince Malleus. Whatever you say.”

Now, Malleus finally returned from studying at Night Raven College and settled back into his past routine. It took some months, since now there were new things he needed to learn before he could become king. He would follow without a complaint, though.

He was standing in a throne room, checking on documents and plans for the kingdom. You would simply trot in with your hands behind your back as you would often do, admiring him as your shoes would click against the floor.

“My fiance is working so hard already?” You teased, being playful and wanting to catch his attention.

“I’m not your fiance.” Malleus would say with a concentrated tone, his gruff voice echoing through the large room as the sound of documents being flipped echoed.

“Right. King Malleus.” You stopped walking to give him a bow and then approached his side. You moved your hand to cling to his arm, but knowing your behavior, he already had an arm out for you.

“Not king either. I haven’t had my coronation yet. Queen Malecifia is planning that as we speak,” Malleus spoke again, then set down the documents and turned to you, his hair slightly swaying with his movement. His green eyes stared down at you, and then he captured a slight smile on his lips. “What is it that you need from me?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see you and waste your time. I truly hope I am a bother,” you spoke playfully and took one of the loose documents into your hands to read through it. Malleus quickly took the paper before you could get too far into reading it. Right. Kingdom affairs.

Malleus gives you a look before sighing and pulling a chair out. “If I let you touch my horns, could you let me work?” He spoke, moving to sit down beside where you were standing. You grew excited at the opportunity to play with his horns and instantly went quiet to do so. You stood behind him and carefully adjusted his hair while examining every detail of the feature in front of you.

The atmosphere was quiet yet peaceful. Time felt like it was still, pen scratching paper occasionally sounds through the large room. Your hands gently held his horns, caressing them to remind yourself of its sharp and enticing structure.

Memories of childhood played through your mind as you watched him read these documents, soft breaths coming from him as his focus never broke. You did this exact thing all the time with him, especially during his study hours.

“Why do you like my horns so much?” Malleus spoke, suddenly breaking the silence and surprising you out of your trance. You thought about it momentarily, trying to find the right words to explain it, but you couldn't find a single word for how. Instead, you explained it the best you could.

“Hmm… I don’t know. There’s something about seeing these horns that gives me some reassurance. Relief that I can still be your future beloved.” you answered before fixing his hair again. Messing with him like this felt right. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, being his future partner was something of fate. There were others out there with royal status just like you. Queen Maleficia could’ve replaced or sent you away, but she hadn’t. You were thankful every time you saw his grandmother.

“I see… You’re an odd one,” Malleus spoke softly, a faint breath being heard from him as he felt your hands let go of him. “You let go. Is something the matter?”

Malleus noticed you stayed quiet but didn’t hear you move either. So, he turned around, his breath catching at what he saw. His eyes were met with your side profile, your lips curling into a grin. Your eyes reflected the light like glass, and your hands fell to his shoulders.

“It’s the first snow of the season,” you said, mesmerized by the view. Your quiet voice showed just how enchanted you were. Malleus had an idea of how others felt about the first snow. All he took in from when you explained the moment to him was how special it could be for lovers.

Every time the first snow would fall, he’d watch from the window of his study how you admired the snowflakes as if you’d never seen them before. He watched you do this for years as if it was routine. Hell, it would be weird if he didn’t see you out there.

Malleus took your wrist and made his way out towards the courtyard. He’s the one taking you out there this time? You could only follow and keep your excitement at bay from his behavior.

Arriving outside, Malleus fixed your winter cape, ensuring you wouldn’t feel too cold. He leaned against a wall as you played and tried to catch the snowflakes. Your smile was as bright as the white sky, and he would just stand there, watching you without a word, but more as if he was in thought.

You noticed this and took a moment to gather some snow from the ground, putting it behind your back before moving towards him. “Are you alright? You seem to be lost in thought,” you asked, making him snap out of his trance to look at you.

“I’m fine. I’m simply reminded of my time at the college from seeing all this snow. Why do you a—”

Crunch.

He sighed, keeping his eyes closed before saying one thing. “... Why?’

Malleus was cut off by the impact of a snowball hitting his face. The icy crystals caused his skin to feel colder than it already was. He wiped the snow off his face as he witnessed you begin to back away. Every step back from you was a step forward for him, and you noticed how he had a straight-faced expression. You laughed nervously and grabbed his wrists, trying to hold him back.

“I just wanted to get your attention, Malleus!” You tried to explain, yelping when he would tower over you, but you would only find it all amusing. Malleus would chuckle, grabbing and throwing snow at you, not aiming for your face like you had done to him.

This went on for a few minutes, enjoying the back-and-forth attacks, while the snow piled onto the ground through the mid-winter day. At one point, Malleus would grab you by the waist to keep you from straying too far away from him. The gesture felt nice, but also intimate as he’d only do this to stop you from being clumsy.

You held onto his arms and stepped back slowly, moving towards a stone pillar, while your eyes didn’t leave him. You glanced between his eyes, lips, and the horns you loved seeing. Even after he held you against the cold stone, there wasn’t anything to worry about, but him.

You felt nervous while giving his arms a light squeeze, and he carefully brushed his cold fingertips against your cheek, making you relax with your head leaning into his slight touch. Soon, his hand cupped your cheek to tilt your head, keeping you in place this time.

Finally, your eyes stayed on his lips. His green eyes admired your features to remember them down to the last detail. Your mingled breaths hit each other’s faces from the close proximity, then Malleus leaned close, his lips inching closer to yours.

It was cut short, though. You turned to the sound of someone clearing their throat, but your body would stop what it was doing and let go of Malleus, instantly bowing at the sight of a familiar lady.

Malleus would turn around next. His breathing was slightly uneven from getting caught in the act, but he’d still bow and greet the woman in the courtyard with them.

“Queen Maleficia, what brings you out here during this weather?” Malleus began first, slowly coming up with you to stand correctly.

“It is good to see you, Queen Maleficia.” You followed after, giving Malleus’s grandmother a warm smile.

“Not much, my dear. I’m glad to see you taking a break,” Maleficia returned the greeting and gave a smile as well. She’d soon drop that expression, though. “I need to speak to you about something important.”

Your body would tense up again, and you took that as a cue to leave them alone, so you bowed and took a step forward. “I’ll leave you be, then—”

“You aren’t going anywhere. You are part of this too.” Maleficia spoke earnestly, and she rarely had to speak in such a way to you. The last time you heard those words was when she scolded you and Malleus for disappearing to Lilia’s home.

Those words always made you nervous, especially since they usually meant something was wrong. You could only turn around and smile again.

“Right. I apologize for my assumption, Your Majesty,” you said carefully, instantly seeing Malleus turn to you with a look of curiosity.

Standing before Queen Maleficia, now in her study, you held your hands as Malleus stood near the high bookshelves. His grandmother stared out of her window briefly before taking a breath.

“Malleus.” Queen Maleficia began to speak, turning around to face you and Malleus somberly. “Your coronation is being planned, as you know, but something must be done before you can become king. You know what that is, correct?”

Malleus grew confused, but his eyes would widen slightly once he understood. “Marriage. What of it?”

As soon as Malleus answered, the woman would look towards you and smile lightly. “That’s correct. What do you plan to do about that?”

You stare at Malleus briefly before looking at Maleficia again, then smile softly. “I do want to marry the prince. That has not changed since we were children.”

Maleficia looked away from you, and then she made her way to stand in front of you. “That, my child, is what I can no longer allow. I am sorry.”

Your eyes widened, and you saw Malleus perk up at the corner of your eye. He was shocked as well. “What…?” Is that the only thing you could say?

“What are you talking about?” Malleus sounded off. You couldn’t look at him. Your eyes would stay on the Queen before you, still in disbelief.

“This is the best course of action. Forgive me, my child.”

“Queen M—No. Grandmother, what in the world are you referring to? Answer me!” Malleus began to demand, moving you back and getting ahead of Maleficia.

“Malleus, believe me, this was not easy.”

“I did not ask if it was easy. I did not ask if you’ve thought of this for weeks or months. I asked for an explanation, grandmother,” Malleus spoke sternly, going against Maleficia, which he had not done before. Maleficia was growing angry, but she remained calm regardless.

“I am doing this for you, for the kingdom of Briar Valley; to end a war before it could begin. You will do your duty as the future ruler of this kingdom.”

“You think the kingdom can decide who will be my partner in marriage for the rest of my life? You did that when I was a child! I went along with it and accepted it the first time as it was!” Malleus also grew angry at the way the events were unfolding. He had accepted everything without complaint, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut this time. This isn’t what he wanted.

“Now, Queen Maleficia, you wish to choose someone new? Someone I haven’t known my entire life and someone I cannot trust?”

“You will understand that as the future king. You do not need them as your fiance, and that is final. You will be marrying someone from another kingdom to stop us from going to war.” Maleficia had grown strict, firm even. Anyone else wouldn’t dare argue, not even you. You could only stay quiet from the words you were hearing. Your heart began to feel heavy from guilt as if it were a burden.

“What good will that do!? I do not need someone to help me run my life or the kingdom that will be under my wing some time from now!”

“I did it for you! I do not wish to see you become like your parents! You are my only grandson, and I lost your mother to war and the son, your father, I never had just before that. I raised you! Lilia and I were the ones who kept you alive. So, as your grandmother, I want you to keep yourself safe. Do this for yourself.” Maleficia was like a pleading mother. She needed Malleus to understand.

It was all so confusing to you. Malleus was trying to fight, but was it for you or him? Was it for his freedom? Did he love you? No. That couldn’t be it. You had to do something before he would do something drastic. You had to stop him before he could argue more.

Silence.

Your hand wrapped around his own. Malleus froze from the sudden touch. “It’s okay,” you began softly, putting on a smile before looking up at Malleus.

The touch reminded you of when you snuck into his study as a teenager. You felt stressed once due to your studies and responsibilities becoming a large pile, and Malleus would hold your hand to put you at ease. He helped you with your studies by tutoring and keeping you focused, but concentrating was still difficult with your distant lover just inches away from you during that time.

That short-lived memory was enough to make you agree to this. You loved him, but it was confusing. He was distant, but sometimes not. You loved him, but it was time.

“Hey, Malleus?”

“Hmm?”

“What would it be like if I was only your friend, but never your fiance?”

A young Malleus had to think about that, but only one answer came to his mind.

“I would’ve figured out how to become your fiance again.”

Back to the decision before you, you smiled more before looking at Maleficia and squeezing Malleus’ hand lightly.

“I understand, Queen Maleficia. I apologize for no longer meeting your expectations,” you said respectfully. Malleus stared down at you with wide eyes, his hand starting to squeeze yours while it was still in his grasp.

“Don’t say that. You don’t need to do that—”

You shook your head and looked at him, clenching your free hand around his arm to cling to him. “I… wanted to talk to you, anyway. I’d call you my fiance, but you always turned me down. You said you simply accepted the necessity of my obligation as your lover. Now that we have to say our goodbyes, it worked out fine, did it not? I won’t fuss about this decision, as I have no say in the kingdom’s political matters. So, I will simply wish you happiness and good fortune in your marriage, Prince Malleus.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t know a thing.” Malleus whispered and took both of your hands into his, trying to keep himself calm in the midst of all of the mess. “I only rejected you because I wanted to properly propose to you. Only at the right moment between us and—”

“Hey… you don’t have to say any of that. You don’t need to. This is your kingdom. I am simply someone who had to be your lover.” Those words hurt for you to say, and Malleus looked… scared for once. In the time that you’d ever known him, he was the only person you loved. Malleus couldn’t let go of your hand or look away from you. You would disappear, he felt. Hearing those words come out of your mouth was painful enough as is.

You could only give him a bitter smile and force him to let go. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay,” you whisper and bow to Maleficia, then to Malleus. “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me.”

You smile once more before swiftly leaving before anything else could happen. The longer you walked, the more your legs felt like jelly. You didn’t know where you were going, but you just wanted to leave. You wanted nothing more but to go back and take back your words. To fight for Malleus. Yet, you would never go against the crown.

Malleus simply stood there in disbelief with his eyes glued to the door. Maleficia reached out to her grandson, but as soon as her hand landed on his shoulder, he slapped it off. He looked at his grandmother with a look of nothing. Agony. A heart-wrenching anguish clouded his mind and judgment once you had left the room.

He didn’t want the touch of anyone else but you. How could he lose you so easily? His whole life, he had always gotten what he wanted. Yet, the one time he asked, begged, and pleaded for something in his life, it was stripped away right before his fingertips. Malleus’ body was on auto-pilot from the harsh reality. Then, he moved out of the study, but when he looked up, his body froze at the sight of you running out of the castle.

It was all his fault. He didn’t fight hard enough. Now, he had lost you. How could the Seven betray him so? He never thought that it would be so easy to leave him. To abandon the memories just because someone else requested it.

Once you felt the harsh wind and snow, your eyes began to water. Soon, your heavy breaths turned into heaving sobs. Before you knew it, you found yourself in the forest. How did you even get here? How far did your tired legs get you? What torture could you endure in this state? Then…

Every memory with Malleus started to flash through your head.

Every dance.

Every laugh.

Every touch.

Every look.

Everything.

Your heaving sobs became screams of heartbreak. Agonized cries echoed throughout the quiet and dark forest of Briar Valley. You couldn’t feel the cold anymore. The cold didn’t matter when it felt like you left a piece of yourself in the castle.

Malleus leaned against the wall from the window that he watched you disappear from, closing his eyes when he could hear your cries despite how far you actually were. He couldn’t do anything to fix it this time, not when you were convinced.

Meeting his new fiance was unbearable for Malleus, but he tolerated it. He never remembered any interaction he had with the woman he was supposed to marry now. The wedding was memorable for everyone but him, and you weren’t there. He knew you wouldn’t be there, but he would still smile to himself when he remembered things.

But then it wasn’t too long, maybe a couple of years, until the kingdom celebrated Malleus and his coronation. Everyone with royal status and Malleus' close friends were invited to the after-party celebration. You went alone and stood on the balcony outside, listening to everyone enjoy their festivities. You hadn’t heard about Malleus since you last stepped foot here. It felt like forever ago.

“I didn’t think you would show up. Not after what happened the last time.”

The familiar voice made you perk up and turn around, seeing his tall figure standing at the curtain’s frame. You stood at the stone barricade and smiled slightly at Malleus, bowing to him.

“I didn’t think you would seek my company, King Malleus.”

“That title sounds… weird coming from you,” he admitted, making you both laugh. You look at the horizon to watch the setting sun, going quiet along with him. You had to break the silence.

“So, how are you and your queen?” You asked, causing Malleus to look at you.

“She is fine. She’s expecting, so she’s taking care of herself instead,” Malleus said, being careful with his words, but you wanted to hide behind your old, playful attitude.

“You were quite fast, weren’t you?” You responded with a laugh, but you could feel your heart breaking already.

“It’s been about two years since we last conversed. I don’t think that’s too fast,” Malleus spoke casually, but you would notice how he looked at you somberly, almost as if he didn’t like it as much as you did.

“I see. I wish the Queen and your child a safe and easy journey.” You said quietly, sounding a bit melancholic. You had to force those words out, and Malleus simply nodded to accept your wishes.

His look made you narrow your eyes towards the ground, not wanting to look at him as you knew it would only cause you more heartbreak.

“Malleus…” You called out quietly, sighing and leaning against the stone.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispered, looking out into the horizon just like you did moments ago.

After a few minutes of silence, the sun had finally set, turning the sky dark with the moon’s light shining down on you and Malleus.

“Thank you,” you broke the silence first amidst the faint clamor of festivities behind you, “for the chance to be with you for so long.”

Malleus looked at you, then you looked at him in return. These looks turned into stares. Stares felt like time froze. It was you and him again, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You engraved the details of his face into your head, and he was doing the same for you. When he broke the silence, the bubble around you two still hadn’t popped.

“You were a wonderful experience,” he said sincerely, giving you a smile.

You smiled back, but before you could respond, others called Malleus over. He tried to stay there, but he was forced away. He was only able to take one more look at you before he disappeared. He faded away like a light swallowed by a deep darkness, which was so strange. It was only a change.

You still kept your smile after he left. Now, you could say what you wanted.

“You were… everything.”

#twst malleus #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney #writing #romance #angst #twst angst #angst with a sad ending #hurt no comfort #im hurtin #hurt #no comfort

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hyunfilms · 9 months

Text

blue side of the sky (lmh) | seven.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 3.8k

—chapter warnings: cussing/mature language, wedding time for yuna!! aka weekend getaway for the group!, overthinking/some insecurities, alcohol consumption (not by oc), playful moments between chan, jisung and seungmin, oc has a cute, mini heart-to-heart with seungmin, flashback at the end - crying, another core memory for minho

♡ a/n: more happens btwn oc and minho next chapter (and beyond), i promise! lol and i know everyone is dying for someone to tell the truth!! i also promise that will happen.. soon... in time. 😬 hehe ty for sticking along on this ride 🥺

"Everything okay?" Seungmin looks at you as you stand and study the hotel in front of you. You look at him as he gently smiles, Chan and Jisung taking care of all the belongings in the background.

"Mhm." You respond. Your eyes shift down to the arm he props out, signaling for you to hold onto it before following Chan and Jisung inside. You softly chuckle and grab onto his arm, letting him lead you into the lobby.

As Jisung mentioned, both the wedding and reception were going to take place in the garden area of the oceanside hotel. Jisung, of course, needed to be here a day before the wedding for the rehearsal. Upon entering the lobby, you see him and Chan greeting his parents, with Yuna and Yeong-Su following behind. Their eyes all shift to you and Seungmin as you get closer, Jisung's mom the first to approach you and gently take you into her arms.

"My babygirl." She says. You embrace her and hug her tightly, being that Jisung's parents were just like your own. They've popped in to check on you at the hospital and a few times post-release. You can tell they're also trying to keep it safe around you, almost like you're fragile— need to be handled with care. "I'm so happy you're here." She pulls away, cupping your cheek. "Are you doing okay?" You nod.

"I'm okay." You verbally respond just as Jisung's father is pulling you in for a hug.

"Your uncle couldn't make it?" You shake your head.

"No, he's working on a big project right now. He sends his regards, though." You make a mental note to call your Uncle Adrian later just to let him know you've made it safely. Being that he owned his own construction company, he was always on the go and working on projects around town. He was reliable, someone known for his kindness and trustworthiness. People always wanted him to be handling their projects or needs. You don't blame them— he was your mom's brother and he reminded you of her in so, so many ways. You were grateful for him and for the many ways he has provided and kept you safe, protected. You're especially grateful to have him because if you weren't going to have mom here, you at least had him— a piece of her. They shared the same attitude, values, the same gracefulness.

Both angelic and gentle.

"Well, you let us know if you need anything. Especially if he starts working up your nerves." Jisung's dad nods towards him.

"I will." You chuckle.

"Y/N." Yuna pokes out her bottom lip as she comes to embrace you. "God, it's so nice to see you and hug you. I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too."

"Thank you for coming. Seriously. I know it's a lot, but it means so much to me that you're here." She looks at you.

"I'm glad I'm here." You smile at Yeong-Su and greet him. "How can I help right now?"

"No, no. Don't you dare lift a finger. We have people taking care of everything. I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself while you're here, okay?" Yuna hangs onto your arm. "I can't believe it's here already."

"Time flies by."

"Sure does." Yuna leans her head against your shoulder. "I hope it all goes to plan."

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine, and it'll all be amazing. You'll look so, so beautiful walking down that aisle and I can't wait to witness that moment." Yuna smiles at you. Although you can't recall the moments you've spent with Jisung's family or Yuna in general, her aura is comforting. She's special to you, and you to her— that seeing her only confirms that fact that she has been someone dear and close to you. It's easy to talk to her like this, as if your body was working with its muscle memory. Though, you wish you could look back at those moments and cherish them instead.

"Thank you." There's a slight hint of worry in her eyes when she looks at you, when they all look at you, and it's a clear sign that they too, are walking on eggshells around you. Fragile, sensitive, afraid you'd crack and break into pieces any moment.

These times were trying, and you hated it when people looked at you that way. You have to constantly reassure yourself that people cared. Maybe even a bit too much, but they cared.

They believe in you, Y/N.

You aren't lost, Y/N.

That's not what this is.

"If you need me or anything at all, don't you ever hesitate to let me know. Okay?"

"Okay. Don't worry Yuna. This weekend is all about you and Yeong-Su, alright? It'll be great." She nods happily.

"Sorry to bother. Need to borrow my bestfriend so I can show her to the room?" Jisung steps in and Yuna rolls her eyes.

"You're always so selfish with her, you know that?" He scoffs.

"Woah, I'm literally just taking her to the room!"

"Share sometimes." She continues to playfully argue with him before returning her attention to you. "Get some rest. Enjoy yourself. I'll see you tonight for dinner." She squeezes your hand before reuniting with Yeong-Su and Jisung's parents.

"Ready? We're on the fourth floor." He has his duffle bag strap over one shoulder, while carrying your weekender bag by the hand. He gives you a small smile, eyes darting back to Chan and Seungmin walking ahead towards the elevator. "We're sharing a room with two beds, and Chan and Seungmin are in the connecting room. Is that okay?"

"Mhm, that's fine." You follow the three boys into the elevator. "Where's Minho going to be?" Chan and Seungmin look at you before looking at Jisung.

"Oh, he's not coming tonight. He's just gonna show up for the wedding tomorrow and stay after."

"I see."

"We should check out the bar and stuff before the dinner." Chan chimes in as he continues to scroll through his phone. "Wanna come, Y/N? No pressure."

"Hm, sure. It'll be nice to explore." Chan smiles at you. Once you hit the fourth floor, the four of you walk over to the rooms silently, Jisung dropping your bags to the floor before opening the door that joins the two rooms together. You immediately walk towards the window to look out at the view, arms crossed at your chest as you take in the way the sun bounces off of the water's surface.

"Pretty isn't it? I suggested for Yuna and Yeong-Su to get married here." You chuckle at Jisung.

"Nice choice."

"Did you get to call your uncle yet?"

"No, not yet. I'll call him in a bit." He nods.

"Want this bed?" Jisung points to the bed closest to the window and you smile at him.

"You'd give up the bed with a view?"

"Why not? All that matters to me is that you're comfortable." He shrugs. "I know all of this happened kinda last minute for you."

"It's not like that." You chuckle. "I'm glad I came along. It already feels nice to be away for a weekend."

"Good." He looks at Chan and Seungmin. "I can use their bathroom so that you have this one to yourself."

"It's fine, pachi. It's not like we haven't done this before with our families." You look at him with a certain look in your eyes, and he feels like he can relax. Jisung does worry about you, probably way more than he should, but at the end of the day, he just wants to make sure you're taken care of. It's his duty as your bestfriend, and he feels especially protective after everything you've been through. You've done so much for Jisung while growing up that he can't help but feel like he didn't do enough to keep you safe, to keep you from getting hurt, to protect you. He knows it's not his fault, but he can't help but blame himself.

He feels like he could have done more.

And with you being here—being awake, being you— he feels like he's gotten a second chance to do better. He's gotten a second chance to make up for the things he didn't do before. He'll never take that for granted ever again.

"Mmkay." He chuckles. "Well, I'm gonna go wash up before we head down." You nod before unzipping your weekender bag and gently pulling out your wedding gift. Thankfully, after some days of rest and taking it easy, you were able to finish off the vase you started for Yuna. On top of that, you were able to grab other useful items to gift the couple as well. You set the things aside before hanging up your dress and setting your heels aside for tomorrow. While Jisung is still in the bathroom, you grab your phone out of your pocket and press your uncle's number under your Favorites list. It rings for 3 times before he picks up on the other line, the construction sounds blaring in the background.

"Hey Y/N, sorry it's so loud." You can tell he's trying to walk towards a quieter place with the way the background slowly fades out. "Did you and the boys make it okay?"

"Mhm, it was a smooth ride."

"Good, that's good to hear. How is the hotel? I heard it's really nice."

"It is super nice. I saw Yuna, Yeong-Su and Jisungie's parents as soon as we got here. I told them you send your regards."

"Thank you. Yeah, I wish I could come, but this project is taking up so much of my time. We're still behind." He chuckles a bit. "You have fun and enjoy yourself, okay?"

"I will. I just wanted to let you know that we were here."

"Okay, call me later when you're free. Hopefully I'll be home and resting by then." You laugh.

"You should. Don't work too hard."

"I'll try not to. Tell Jisung and the boys I said hi."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you too." And with that, the call ends. You set your phone aside and dig through your bag again, checking to see which clothes you could change into that are more fitting for the warm weather. You pull out a simple black mini skirt and a crop top, hugging it against your chest as you wait for Jisung to finish up in the bathroom. You peek into Seungmin and Chan's room to see them lazily lying on their beds, with Seungmin the first to look up from his phone when he sees you looking in.

"Need something, Y/N?" He sits up and you shake your head.

"Do you mind if I change in your bathroom? Jisungie's taking forever."

"Go for it."

"Dude, tell him to hurry up." Chan looks at Seungmin. "I wanna grab a drink."

"Han Jisung, hurry up!" Seungmin yells from the bed as he crashes back onto it. You slip into their bathroom and shut the door behind you, hearing Chan and Seugmin constantly yelling at Jisung to hurry. You giggle to yourself as you change into your clothes, already feeling better being out of those leggings and the thick hoodie you had on.

"Where's Y/N?" You hear Jisung ask.

"She's changing in our bathroom cause you took too long."

"Oh." You hear footsteps approaching the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, cielo. You should've knocked."

"It's alright." You swing the door open, which causes Jisung to step back and quickly eye you from head to toe. "I'm ready now, we can head down."

"You look nice." You smile at Jisung.

"Thanks." You walk past him to get back to your room and drop your clothes.

"You always look nice, Y/N." Seungmin adds.

"Even in your pajamas, Y/N." Chan playfully chimes in causing Jisung to roll his eyes.

"Back off." You giggle to yourself when you hear Chan and Seungmin laughing at Jisung’s remark. They stand up to their feet when you walk back into their room, and the four of you start heading back down to the hotel lobby to explore around. On the way down, Chan and Seungmin are cracking jokes between each other that make you laugh, while Jisung picks up a call that comes through on his phone.

"Minho, yo." He picks up the call. "Yo?" He repeats. "What do you want?" You obviously can't hear Minho on the other line, but Jisung furrows his brows while listening to him. "What do you mean you don't know what to buy as a present? They have a registry. Just buy something from there or give them money so they can use it towards whatever they please." Jisung sighs. "Uh no, absolutely not a good idea to give them sex toys as a present." You chuckle, making Jisung look down at you before looking back ahead. "Dude, you're fucking gross. Do what you want. I'm telling Yuna and Yeong-Su that I had nothing to do with it." He lets out another breath. "Yeah, okay. I'm hanging up now." He lets out a laugh. "You're full of shit. Bye."

"Productive conversation, I see." Jisung shrugs.

"Dude is out of his mind. He's terrible when it comes to giving gifts."

"I'm sure he'll figure it out." It falls quiet as you continue walking towards the bar near the lobby. But for you, you're mainly wondering why you haven't talked to Minho as much as you expected to. He was your bestfriend, right?

Why didn't he say hi?

Does he ask about you as much as you do with him?

Why does it feel like Jisung is a wall between you two?

"Yo, look at this." Chan picks up the flyer at the front of the bar. "Tequila shots are only a dollar from now until 8PM."

"You're out of your mind." Seungmin laughs. "That shit is probably poison, and I'm not taking care of your asses."

"I can handle myself!" He nudges Jisung. "Let's go."

"I'm only gonna take like.. 3, my guy. I still have to rehearse, you know?"

"What better way to rehearse than tipsy?"

"Fuck you." Jisung shakes his head as he gives in to Chan. "You're really not gonna join in?"

"No, hell no. I'll stay here with Y/N and keep her safe from you two weirdos." Seungmin stands closer to you and you smile at the two. "We'll just help ourselves to some family-friendly drinks and people-watch outside." He looks down at you and you nod.

"Sounds fun to me." The boys know you aren't fond of drinking, especially after the accident. It's not like they've ever pressured you, but it's nice to have Seungmin swoop you away from Chan and Jisung's chaos just so you two could chill. Which, he does by asking the bartender for virgin pina coladas, taking the glasses over to two seats near the edge of the dining area that overlook the beach. You sit onto the stool while Seungmin doesn't waste any time with his drink. After quenching his thirst, he looks at you and gives you a toothless smile.

"Is it okay?" You nod while sipping your drink.

"It's really good!" You look at the drink in surprise. "Thanks. How much do I owe you?"

"What?" He chuckles. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. It's on me."

"Thank you, Seungmin."

"Of course." Silence. The two of you appreciate the view ahead before Seungmin breaks the silence again. "I didn't expect it to be so hot this weekend."

"Didn't pack the right clothes?" He does a head tilt while letting out a soft laugh.

"Not really, but I'll make it work. Like I always do." You chuckle before there's another pause. Seungmin feels safe. He always radiates a warm aura; someone who won't ever judge you, or make you feel stupid. Especially for what you're about to ask—

"Seungmin?" You slightly turn in your seat to look at him. "Can I ask you something?" He returns the favor by turning in his seat to face you.

"Anything."

"Is Minho really that busy?" His eyes widen at the random question, but he answers anyway.

"Um, yeah. He kinda is." He laughs a bit. "He's my roommate but I see him come and go pretty often, and I've gotten used to it. I'm sure the café is hard to manage. Why?"

"I don't know. I just.. feel the need to ask." You tilt your head and look at him. "Can I tell you something else?"

"Of course." His voice softens.

"I'm having a hard time figuring out why I feel a certain way when it comes to Minho. We were close at one point, right? So, why doesn't it feel like it? Why do I feel like I'm missing something?" You look out at the view, then back at him. "Why do I feel like he's purposefully avoiding me?" He lets out a breath. You can tell he's hesitating but he covers it up well.

He recovers well.

"I think Minho is still trying to process everything." Is all he says. "It's not anything against you, this entire thing is just hard for him. Give it some time. He'll come around." This is all he gives you.

"Sorry, I must sound stupid. I don't really know how to explain it."

"You're not stupid, Y/N. I know you are just trying to understand. And, I understand you. Don't worry." You also feel like Seungmin wants to say something else, but he doesn't. And that's because Jisung chose this very moment to rush over towards you two, arguing with Chan about their choices.

"I hate his ass." Jisung comes rushing over, pointing at a laughing Chan behind him. "He made us do five tequila shots."

"You're both glowing." Seungmin laughs. "Sure you can do it for the rehearsal?" The two of you watch as Jisung playfully pushes Chan and continues to put the blame on him and whine.

While you and Seungmin finish up your drinks, Yuna, Yeong-Su, their parents and Jisung's parents eventually come down and meet your group right before the rehearsal is scheduled to start. You laugh at Jisung's parents scolding him for getting tipsy before rehearsals— Jisung's mom clinging onto you as you all walk towards the garden area where things are set up for tomorrow's festivities.

As you sit alongside of Chan and Seungmin while watching the wedding rehearsal, you can't help but think of your quick conversation with Seungmin. With the gentle way he spoke with you earlier, you can't help but feel like you've been overthinking the entire thing and that's what you wanted to avoid while being here. It was hard for everyone to process what had happened, knowing that everyone was on the brink of letting you go, of giving you peace.

Then, to come back and change everything— to change their feelings, their mind, their decisions.

Maybe it was just you, after all.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | A COUPLE OF DAYS AFTER YOU WOKE UP

Minho doesn't even know where he's going.

He finds himself running, and running, and running— in hopes he can finally escape the repeating sounds of your cries and screams.

"Fuck." He groans as he leans over onto his knees, squinting his eyes at the dull headache that is suddenly coming onto him early this morning. The sun is barely rising, the air is still cold, sharp. He drags himself over to the rail before sitting on the step— chest beginning to ache at the shortness of breath. His head falls and his breathing is the only thing he hears besides the occasional early morning chirping, cars passing by, geese dipping into the lake ahead of him.

"Knew I'd find you here." He looks up to the familiar voice, surprised at seeing his roommate standing in front of him in a hoodie and sweats.

"What are you doing here?" Seungmin shrugs and sits next to him on the step.

"Think I don't wanna get a run this morning, too?"

"Right." Minho looks straight ahead at the lake again. "Sleep is everything to you."

"Damn right. This is so fucking early."

"So, why are you here?"

"To make sure you're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" He's avoiding eye contact, again. Seungmin may not say much, but he notices these things. He always notices the small things.

"You haven't said much to anyone since Y/N woke up. Think it's safe for me to be worried about you." Seungmin says softly, arms lazily hanging over his knees while he joins Minho and looks out to the lake. It's quiet for awhile before Minho finally speaks up and lets out a soft sigh.

"Nothing to be worried about."

"You don't have to do that. We can talk about it." Seungmin looks at him before shifting back to the lake. "It's hard, I know it is. I say that as her friend, so I can only imagine what you're feeling right now. So let me be your friend, and let me be there for you." And honestly, that's all it takes for Minho to crack. Because he's not okay. This is hard. He doesn't know what to do.

You saw them, and there was nothing.

You saw him, and there was nothing.

Minho's head falls, and Seungmin hears the harsh crying next to him even if Minho is trying his hardest to mask it. He can hear Minho whimpering in between sobs, Seungmin's heart breaking at the sound. He gently pats his back, giving him some time to let it all out.

"I didn't think it'd be this fucking hard." He mumbles and Seungmin barely catches on. "She doesn't know any of us, she doesn't know me."

"She's scared. Give her some time, okay? We'll get her back to where she needs to be."

"No, no." Minho shakes his head as he continues to cry. "No. She's different, she doesn't know me." He repeats. "I'm so stupid. Why did I let her go that night?"

"You're not stupid."

"I am. I am." He repeats. "None of this would've happened." His crying finally slows down but he still can't bring himself to look at Seungmin yet. He lets himself calm down, crying finally subsiding as he lets out a breath and wipes away at the straggling tears. "I was getting ready to accept it. I think I did. I was ready for whatever was gonna happen next. I was at peace with it. He pauses. "Then she came back. And I'm supposed to feel relief, right?" He finally turns to Seungmin again, eyes red from all the crying.

"You don't have to feel that way right now. Understandably, it's a lot at once." Is the best Seungmin can do.

"Yeah. Because truthfully, I don't feel relieved." Seungmin sees the tears building up on Minho's bottom lids again, his lip slightly trembling. "I'm not relieved because it feels like I still lost her either way. That's the hardest part about all of this." He starts to softly cry again, and he remains silent. Quite frankly, he doesn't know what else to say to Seungmin. He's overwhelmed with emotion, but at the same time he feels so fucking empty inside. Your cries and screams are still ringing in his head, the fear in your eyes when it quickly landed on him, the boys.

He shouldn't have let you go that night.

He's so stupid.

Nothing could have prepared him for how difficult this was going to be. He feels a selfish, feels kinda like an asshole for this. But, he truthfully cannot say he feels relieved after these past few days—

In the end, he still loses you.

☁︎ END

♡ taglist: @ppiri-bahng @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @sweetlikecherry @hoes4lino @skzddicted @skzho @edgaralienpoe @harui-zen @bestleeknowstan @havenwithleeknow @septicrebel @heesdazed @borahae-reads @yoontaethings @pearbunny @bintificreads @lukeys-giggle @ajxreads @everglowdaisies @allaboutsan @endzii23 @leeknowsramen @heres-your-ramen2000 @morningstardada @mal-lunar-28 @downbadreading @lilysophie @feelikecinderella @urmomma0324 @ddazed-lhs @djeniryuu @melanctton @i8rsie @maru-matt @sleepyleeji @taerifin @nattisbored @jisunglyricist @m111nho @drhsthl @nixtape-foryou @arminseas @guiltycoco @syuuji @sulkygyu @cadihyo @reianagarcia @leeknowyah

#lee know series #lee know fanfic #lee minho scenarios #minho fanfic #minho series #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids series #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #lee know angst #lee know fluff #lee know smut #lee minho angst #lee minho fluff #lee minho smut #hyunfilms: blue side of the sky

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vettelsdarling · 8 months

Note

hi i love your instagram aus!!!

i was wondering if you could do an instagram au private relationship between charles x singer! reader (face claim blackpink rose) on their summer break but they get caught by fans and paparazzi?

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Lissie note… Really great idea!!! Love it! I’m not too into k-pop, so please excuse me if anything seems wrong with the pictures in terms of timeline stuff. Thank you, and I’m glad you enjoy the aus<3

Things to note:

I’m into rock/indie, so I don’t know much about the K-pop industry. Please don’t come for me :)

Reader is an up-and-coming but popular K-Popstar.

Reader and Charles have been dating since the beginning of the season (set in 2023)

Races are NOT in order

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Singer!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight cursing?

Playlist recommendations: 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @allwaysallyway

yourusername

Liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe, francisca.cgomes and 5,488,926 others

yourusername Merci, Paris🌻💛

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user1 OHMOFMFNS HERRRR❤️❤️❤️

user2 Felt😩🙏

user3 Are you coming to the UK soon?🥰

user4 MOTHER❤️

user5 ILYSM PLSSS😭❤️

user6 So so so gorgeousss💕

user7 She’s so couquette but sophisticated and I love it

user8 AHHHH agreed❤️

user9 Please come to the US soon🤍🤍

user10 She’s been there before

user11 Yeah, I saw her last year🥰

user9 Aw no… I missed it.

yourusername

Liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly and 4,827,293 others

yourusername Thanks for another great time @ voguemagazine

Tagged: voguemagazine

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user1 How can anyone be THIS gorgeous.

user2 Exactly. How do people actually have the nerve to call her a gold digger…

user3 Wait what???

user4 People did WHAT?!

user1 ummm wtf?

user5 @ user2 is right. Fans of this boy group keep bashing her because they were seen together at a literal K-pop event…

user6 Doesn’t it make sense for her to be at the same expo though…💀 like she didn’t come for that one guy. She came for us…😭😭😭

user5 literally

user7 idk what all this drama in the comments is, but you’re so pretty❤️

user8 Vogue better feature her again😩🤍

user9 Did anyone see her interview with cosmo? She’s literally so polite and cute🥰

user10 I SAW IT🫶

user11 I don’t believe all the rumours that she’s dating some random boy group guy… she’s clearly ours.

user12 Agreed🙏

user13 I can’t wait for her to go on Jimmy Fallon🥳

user14 It’s actually gonna be so fun

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 648,272 others

charles_leclerc It’s race week again❤️🤍

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user1 Let’s goooo #tifosi❤️🤍

user2 Please no Monaco curse again😭😭😭

user3 It won’t happen this year❤️

user4 I’m a max fan but I actually hope Leclerc wins this one

user5 same

user6 ANY K-POP FANS HERE???

user7 I thought I was the only one who noticed

user8 Guys it’s so clearly just her following him cause he’s famous or whatever. Besides, he has a lot of followers who are in the K-pop industry lol

user9 @ user8 has a point lmao

user10 yeah, @ otherkpopuser also follows him. You guys gotta calm down💀

user11 Home race let’s gooo❤️

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe and 4,384,256 others

yourusername Break👒🧸

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francisca.cgomes Gorgeous🤍

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

user1 Okay so nobody is going to question why an f1 wag is in the comments…

user2 because it’s not that deep

user3 The break she deserves❤️❤️❤️ HAVE FUN🥰

user4 I can’t wait for more summer posts from her🥳

user5 I loved your set in Paris❤️ Please come back soon🫶

user6 Come to Spain pleaseeeee🙏

user7 Oooo where is this???

user8 I think she said on her story that she was in Monaco

user9 Ugh I would love to go there just to see her😭❤️

user10 Monaco is so great😩 I wanna go

user11 This is the break she deserves after her hard work❤️

user12 I thought she’d maybe go back to Korea for a little over break

user13 It’s her own choice… she doesn’t have to

user14 Sooo pretty

user15 I desperately NEED her to come to Australia😭😭😭

sportsgoscentral

3,729 likes

sportsgoscentral Famous Ferrari driver, Charles Leclerc, was caught with a girl this week… who might that be👀

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user1 Wait WHAT🧍‍♀️

user2 idk… that could literally be anyone. It doesn’t look like Charles…

user3 It’s definitely him. Look at his hair.

user4 I’m slowly waving goodbye to my parasocial relationship😭

user5 STOPPP WHAT IS THIS

user6 Aw that’s cute🥰 Wish we knew who it was though!!

user7 wait… isn’t that… @ yourusername

user8 who?

user7 pretty famous K-pop idol

user8 Ohhh, she’s really pretty though

user9 so all blonde girls are suddenly her?

user7 no, I’m just saying it seems like her bc she’s in Monaco rn

user10 Whoever she is, she’s so lucky ughhh

user11 For real

user12 What happened to giving people personal space😃

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername and 366,282 others

charles_leclerc Next stop: Japan✈️🇯🇵

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user1 such a random vacation spot but I dig it

user2 I bet Yuki is his tour guide

user3 that’d be funny

user4 Wait what’s in Japan?

user5 Idk, he’s just on break somewhere new ig?

user6 Can’t wait for a Japan photo dump🥰

user7 Not everyone thinking he’s going cause of @ yourusername 😭😭😭

user8 OMGGGG I FORGOT SHE’S BACK FROM HER BREAK AND IN JAPAN RNNN

user9 I am flabbergasted

user10 guys it’s a coincidence chill pls

user11 idk… doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me👀

yourusername

Liked by francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 6,028,379 others

yourusername Thank you so much for all the chants! I love you all in Japan❤️ Can’t wait to come again🧸

View all comments

francisca.cgomes Loved it❤️ Will go to your next🫶

yourusername Can’t wait to see you again🥰❤️

user1 MOTHER😩❤️

user2 SHE ONLY RESTED FOR 2 WEEKS AND IS ALREADY BACK😭😭😭

user3 She’s so amazing🤍 I love her so much😭

user4 I LOVED THE SHOWWW COME BACK SOON~

user5 She’s so mother😩🙏

user6 ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS🥰

user7 I literally love everything abt her

user8 Where’s she going next?

user9 The US I think?

user10 Wait what???

user11 No she isn’t. That’s next month.

user12 Yeah, she’s going to Korea next and then the US

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly and 1,292,358 others

charles_leclerc Japan was amazing❤️🇯🇵

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user1 A GIRL A GIRL A GIRL

user2 OMG THE SECOND PIC

user3 CHARLES WHO IS THATTTT

user4 New wag alert?

user5 Every K-pop fan KNOWS that the rumours are true and that’s @ yourusername

user6 New fav wag🥰

user7 I need to see them togetherrrr

user8 Omg that’s her?! She is BEAUTIFUL😩

user9 She’s literally my fav<3

user8 I’m gonna start listening to her

user9 If he’s going to the states next, it’s definitely @ yourusername

user10 It’s so convenient though, because he has the Miami gp next month🥳

user11 Isn’t she going to NYC though???

user12 Yeah she is

wagsf1

20,378 likes

wagsf1 @ yourusername in the paddock today in Miami✨

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user1 IT’S OFFICIAL🥰

user2 She is SO PRETTY AND CUTEEEE

user3 Her and Charles make the cutest couple on the grid by a HUMONGOUS margin.

user4 Literally

user5 Wait… but wasn’t she spotted in Formula 2???!

user6 Leclerc watches Arthur and she probably tagged along

user5 Oh yeah that makes sense

user7 I can’t believe she’s juggling her career and supporting Charles at the same time😭 What a gem🤍

user8 He literally hit the jackpot with this one

user9 I’m so jealous of him but also jealous of her😭😭😭

user10 You’re literally so real for that

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc,francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt and 6,387,289 others

yourusername Since the secret is out…🤍

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charles_leclerc ❤️

Liked by yourusername

francisca.cgomes You guysss🫶

Liked by yourusername

user1 ARE YOU FOR REAL????

user2 Wait the rumours are true?!!!😭😭

user3 We lost her💔

user4 This is pain.

user5 Can’t you just be happy for her?

user6 It’s not that deep and she doesn’t know you exist💀

user7 If my future relationship isn’t like theirs… I don’t want it..

user8 IKR😩 Look at those shadow picssss

user9 Okay but when is she actually revealing him?

user10 We literally know it’s Charles💀 He even commented😭😭😭

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 738,839 others

charles_leclerc It’s official. She’s a procrastinator…

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yourusername I’m not…

charles_leclerc Did you pack for Italy yet? We leave tomorrow.

yourusername …

Liked by charles_leclerc

pierregasly Get in there mate!

Liked by charles_leclerc

user1 I love their banter already😩

user2 They’re so cute what😭❤️

user3 She looks like a literal angel

user4 My fav singer and my fav driver… dating?! This is an actual dream come true wtaf

user5 People who oppose this will have to go through me first

user6 Nobody will be dense enough💀

user7 Nah I just know someone will be pressed about this

user8 Agreed lmao💀

user6 I mean ig😭💀

user9 I can’t wait to see all of her paddock outfits!!!

user10 Same! She's already so stylish, I bet she’s gonna go all in!!!

user11 I can’t wait to see Charles at her concerts lol

user12 Somehow I can actually imagine it

user13 My fav couple❤️

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

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bradshawsbaby · 10 months

Text

Letters to My Love // Part IX

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

Series Masterlist

JOIN THE TAGLIST!

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: Bobby and Peach’s story continues! Hope you all enjoy this latest installment!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.

The title of this chapter comes from the popular song of the same name. Click here to listen to the first ever recording of the song from 1931!

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, @luminousnotmatter. Clara, thank you, thank you, thank you for your support of this story!

Warnings: Alternating POV, allusions to the physical and emotional cost of war, lots of sweet fluff.

April 28, 1943

Dearest Peach (or is it Cookie now?),

I have to tell you, this game of tag might just be the best version of the game I’ve ever played. I sure was surprised—and pleased, believe me—when I opened your last letter to find another photograph inside. The other fellas on the carrier are starting to grumble about how they hardly ever get photos from their girls back home, so you’ve managed to make me quite a big shot around here. Tommy Boy told me just the other day that word’s spreading about how “Floyd’s always getting these pictures from a pretty girl back stateside.” In all honesty, I think they’re just shocked that a gal as pretty as you would be writing to a boring guy from the sticks like me.

Now I don’t want you to think I’m gloating or anything when you send me photos, Peach—although your pretty face DOES deserve to be on billboards, in my humble opinion. It’s just that carriers are smaller than you’d think, in terms of news spreading around, It doesn’t help matters that Benny is always looking over my shoulder during Mail Call, and that when I opened your most recent letter, he stood up on our bench and shouted “Bobby Boy’s got another picture, fellas!” Don’t you worry, though. I tucked your photo into my pocket, right over my heart, and wouldn’t let any of the others see it, no matter how much they begged. Serves them right for being so nosy.

All that to say, it’s a wonderful picture and it brought a big old smile to my face to see how happy you all looked at Christmastime. Please send my highest compliments to Dottie. You and your sister look so much alike, you could both be Hollywood starlets. I especially love your matching smiles—prettier than the angel on top of the Christmas tree. And Frankie is the spitting image of Paddy, my goodness! It’s funny, Paul, Jr. looks just like Paul, too. Maybe the boys will both grow up and go to Annapolis together. You know, following in their fathers’ footsteps and all that. Wouldn’t that be something if they both joined the Navy one day?

Speaking of us “squids,” as our Marine brothers are so wont to call us, I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed the photos that I sent with my last letter. Tommy Boy and Benny have been bragging to anyone who will listen that you have our pictures displayed on your desk. I made the mistake of letting them know that you think they’re very handsome, but don’t worry, I kept it just between us that you think I’m the most handsome. They’re good guys and I wouldn’t want to go bruising their egos or anything like that.

Mike is the name of the fella on board who has the camera and took the pictures for us. He’s hoping he can get his hands on some more film soon so that he can take some more photographs while we’re over here. He likes to send them back home to his fiancee in Arkansas. He’s a solid guy, Mike is. He even told me he’d be happy to take some more pictures for me to send to you when he’s able to—if you’d like that, that is.

I’m glad to know that you don’t mind me writing a little bit about you to my family. I received a letter from my mother the same day I received your letter, and she said you sound like the loveliest girl and that you’re more than welcome on the Floyd farm anytime you happen to find yourself in Linn County, Iowa. When I was writing back to her, I didn’t have the heart to tell her that nobody just so happens to find themselves in Linn County, Iowa. But the offer still stands! My mama would be more than happy to bake you all the pumpkin pies your heart desires. And she’d be more than happy to hear about that peach cobbler recipe, too!

Paul wanted me to tell you that you have no reason to be embarrassed about the punch spill, and that, in fact, you should put it out of your mind completely. He’s sitting across me from right now as I write this, writing his own letter back home to Natasha and the kids. Clara’s just learning to recognize her letters and read some basic words, and Paul, Jr. can’t read at all yet of course, so Paul includes little drawings for them when he writes. Natasha says they love them, and that Clara always carries his letters around when they’re running errands to show off to all the neighbors. “Look at Daddy’s pictures!” she tells them. He really is a good artist, you know. One of these days, I’m going to have him draw something for you. Anything in particular you’d like to see?

Oh, please don’t be embarrassed about my overhearing that conversation! That’s the last thing I want you to feel. You have no reason to be embarrassed, Peach. If anything, it’s that Eddie guy who should feel embarrassed for doing that to a lady. But like you—and Dottie—said, everything happens for a reason. I believe that, too. And I believe that good things can come out of even the worst circumstances. Take this war, for example. It’s awful. There’s no sugarcoating it or making it sound better than it is. It’s just plain awful. In the time I’ve been over here, I’ve seen and heard things that I’ll never be able to forget, things that make you question how human beings can do such things to one another. But I’ve also seen instances of such heroism and bravery, of people doing all they can to stick their necks out for each other and see each other home safely, and I think that that’s got to count for something, too. Don’t you think so, Peach? I know you’re all doing your part back home, too, and that means the world to us over here. We can feel it, and we appreciate it more than you can know. So you see? Good things can still come out of the hard times.

Like you and me meeting, for another thing. I can’t say that I’m grateful for this war, but I am thankful that it brought us together and allowed our paths to cross that night in Charleston. I’ll always be thankful for that, Peach. Not a day goes by that I don’t count my lucky stars that Paul finally convinced me to go to that dance that night. It was the last place in the world I wanted to be, but it turned out to be just the place I needed to be. Everything happens for a reason, right?

Speaking of that night at the dance, I had a dream the other night about dancing with you, Peach. We were at the USO dance at first, but then we were suddenly on the beach. As a farm boy from Iowa, you can imagine that I haven’t spent much time on the beach in my lifetime. But I suppose my subconscious remembers all the beaches I saw in Charleston, because there we were, dancing in the sand while the waves were crashing in. Do you like going to the beach? Like I said, there’s none in landlocked Iowa, but I’d be more than happy to let you be my tour guide when it comes to the best beaches South Carolina and Georgia have to offer.

It’s funny, I don’t usually remember my dreams, but I remember that one quite vividly. I woke up thinking I could still taste saltwater on my tongue and feel you in my arms. Maybe that sounds a little silly, but it’s true. It was the best dream I’ve ever had, I’m sure of it.

It does sound like little Frankie is quite the mischief-maker! Hiding keys already? Something tells me he’s going to give Dottie and Paddy a run for their money when he gets older! From everything you’ve told me, I really do think he and Paul, Jr. would make the best of friends. I imagine the two of them would get into even more mischief than Paul and I did when we were growing up!

Gosh, I wish more than anything that I could be there dancing with you, Peach. But I’m holding the thought of you dancing to “We’ll Meet Again” real close to my heart until we really can meet again. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear that song without thinking of you now.

Please do keep me updated on your Victory Garden efforts! I’m looking forward to hearing all about it. Believe me, no one could have a browner thumb than me—just ask Paul, Natasha, and pretty much my entire family—so I’m sure you and Dottie will do a wonderful job!

And Happy Belated Easter, Peach! I hope you had a lovely day with your family. We actually had a bit of exciting news that reached us on Easter Sunday. The Royal Navy sent word that they managed to sink a German U-boat off the coast of [REDACTED], which is hopefully a good sign for all the rest of us. I hope this war comes to an end soon. It feels like we’ve been fighting forever.

I hope that the South Carolina sunshine is treating you right, and that you’re safe and well. I can’t wait until your next letter arrives (I’ll try to keep Benny from looking over my shoulder next time).

Most Truly Yours,

Bobby

May 24, 1943

My Dear Bobby,

Don’t worry, it’s still Peach to you, and it always will be. Frankie is learning so many new words every day that I’m sure I’ll only be Aunt Cookie for a little while longer. But I’d like to stay Peach for a good long while, if that’s alright with you.

I’m sorry to disappoint all the fellas on the carrier—particularly Benny—by not including any new photographs with this letter. I’ll try to amend that next time. But I absolutely do not believe that it should come as any kind of shock to anyone that you and I write to one another, Bobby. Boring? Who would dare call you boring? I’ll not have you talking about yourself like that, Robert Floyd, do you hear me? I could just as easily say that the people back in Charleston would be shocked to learn that a handsome naval aviator is writing to a girl as shy and mousey as me, but I know you wouldn’t like that. Just like I don’t like hearing you talk badly about yourself. So let’s promise one another we won’t do that anymore, hm?

Dottie sends profuse thanks for your sweet words about the Christmas photo—she actually blushed when I told her what you’d written! And I could tell that Paddy was all puffed up with pride when I told him that you thought Frankie looked just like him. Dottie agrees with you wholeheartedly, by the way. “Both my boys are so handsome!” she declared. I think Paddy blushed a little bit at that, though he’d never admit it.

My goodness, imagine Frankie and Paul, Jr. both joining the Navy when they’re older? I think you’re quite right that they’d make excellent friends—but heaven help the Navy with the double trouble those two would bring with all their mischief-making!

By the way, I asked Paddy about that nickname you said the Marines like to use—squids? I’ve never seen my brother-in-law turn so red so fast! “Oh, what do they know?” he demanded, waving his hands in the air. “They’re just a bunch of jarheads!” Squids? Jarheads? I never realized there was such a rivalry between you! No wonder the sailors and the Marines seem to stay on opposite sides of the room whenever the USO hosts an event! I hope you know that I don’t think you’re a squid, Bobby. But if you were, you’d be the cutest squid in the seven seas.

You’re very considerate not to bruise Tommy Boy’s and Benny’s egos, so thank you very much for keeping our little secret. Emily came over the other day—she’s still so excited about the wedding and she wanted me to help her go over some details—and she saw the pictures of you and the boys on my desk. She remembered Paul from the night of the dance, and she thought the rest of you looked familiar, too. She said to pass along her best wishes, and I passed along your congratulations on her and Eddie’s engagement. I hope you don’t mind.

That’s very sweet of your friend, Mike to offer to take more photos for you! Of course I’d love for you to send more, if you’re able to! Being able to see that you’re okay, even with all the miles and a war between us, makes me so happy.

Your mama is most generous and kind to extend that invitation! While I can’t say that I have any reason to be in Linn County, Iowa at the moment, I will be certain to look up the Floyd family farm if ever I should happen to be in town. And please let your mama—and all of your family—know that, should they ever find themselves in Charleston, South Carolina, the Sheridan residence is always open to them. Your mama and I can swap recipes. I know Dottie would love that.

I couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear when I read the part of your letter where you talked about Paul’s drawings for Clara and Paul, Jr.! What a wonderful father he is! And an artist, too? I’m very impressed! Not to mention thankful to him for his unending kindness. I can see why the two of you are the best of friends—you both have the same good hearts. Hmm, now as for what kind of drawing I would like, I suppose that would depend on what Paul specializes in. Does he do portraits? In that case, I’d like to see him draw one of you. Does he draw cartoons? I can only imagine how he’d portray a conversation between Tommy Boy and Benny. If neither of those, then perhaps Paul can draw me some peaches—I always think of you now, Bobby, whenever I eat them.

Oh, Bobby. Yes, I do believe it counts for something when people try to hold onto their goodness in the midst of so much evil and bad. We know so little of what you’re facing over there beyond the small bits that we read in the newspaper or hear on the radio. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to be living in it every day. I wish that I could hold you tight and make all the bad memories go away. But since I can’t, I’m glad to know that you’re able to find the glimpses of good where you can.

Without a doubt, everything happens for a reason, and I believe there’s a reason that you and I met that night, Bobby. Maybe a reason that’s bigger than you and I can ever understand. I’m grateful that our paths crossed, too. So, so grateful. I know this might sound silly considering we’ve only actually been together in person for a few hours, but you’ve helped me come out of my shell more than you can know. I’ve always been so shy, Bobby. Painfully so. It’s not easy for me to talk to new people, or people that I don’t know very well. It’s especially not easy for me to talk to handsome boys like you. But that night at the dance and during our walk on King Street—you made me feel seen, Bobby. And heard. Hardly anyone outside my family has ever made me feel that way. And then we started writing letters to each other and you’ve just been so easy to talk to, so easy to share my heart with. Thank you for that, Bobby. It means more to me than you can possibly imagine. So yes, I thank my lucky stars for that night, too.

Did you really have a dream about me? I’m blushing to think so, but now I don’t feel so shy to tell you that I’ve dreamed about you, too. In my dream, we were back at the ice cream parlor on King Street, sharing an ice cream sundae with lots of whipped cream and cherries on top. When you come home, we’ll have to take a drive to Folly Beach and get ice cream on the pier. I’ll be counting down the days until it happens!

Now speaking of our Victory Garden, Dottie and I are quite proud of the effort we put in this year! You’d think the two of us were a couple of regular old farm girls. We spent about a week or so clearing out the beds from last year and resoiling them. One of our neighbors, Mrs. Patterson had a beautiful garden last year, so she gave us a lot of helpful advice. We ended up planting beans, carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes. It’s still a little too early to tell how they’ll end up, but they look promising so far! I think you’d be proud of us!

Things here on the homefront have been a little tricky as of late. I’m not sure if word has gotten over to you boys across the Atlantic, but some of the coal miners went on strike last month. It caused a bit of a crisis with regard to production and manufacturing. President Roosevelt delivered a fireside chat discussing the crisis earlier this month. He tried to remind all of us that it’s our patriotic duty to continue working and to do what we can for the war effort. I think Paddy was a bit worried about it, but the government has since taken control of the coal mines, and so we haven’t heard much more about it.

I want so badly to do my part for the war effort, Bobby. I think of you and Paul and Tommy Boy and Benny and all the others, risking your lives across the ocean to defend all of us back home. I want to do something, no matter how small, that can contribute and make a difference. There have been lots of women going to work in the factories ever since we entered the war. Some of them are filling their husbands’ and brothers’ positions while they’re off fighting. Paddy mentioned that they’re actually looking to fill civilian positions at Naval Air Station Charleston. It’s harder because of the background checks required, but I’d have a leg up, being Paddy’s sister-in-law. I’ve been thinking about asking Paddy to help me apply for a position. Do you think I should, Bobby? If it could be of any help to you and all the other men, I’d really like to give it a try. What do you think?

That’s wonderful news about the Royal Navy! Every time I hear about the Allies pushing further into Europe, or defeating our enemies in some way, it gives me a thrill of hope that maybe this all really will be over soon. I hope so, Bobby. I really hope so.

Even though there’s a few thousand miles between us, I hope you can feel all the good thoughts I’m sending your way. I can’t wait until I get your next letter. I always look forward to them.

Until next time, Bobby!

Most Affectionately Yours,

Peach

TAGLIST: @teacupsandtopgun @saturnsbabe69 @gigisimsonmars @marchingicenotes7 @high-speed-r @toobouquet @up-thereinthesky @lostinthefandoms11 @strangerparks @sweetwhispersofchaos

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #WWII AU #1940s AU

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rosewaterandivy · 8 months

Text

10. a kiss is not enough

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

W.C.: 4.5K

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), real-talk with Nancy Wheeler, idiots still being idiots, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: Holy shit, I can't believe we've come to the end (or is it 👀) of this series! When I started this, I had no clue how many people would respond to Trouble and Steve's idiots-to-lovers story - but I'm so glad that they did! This series will always be near and dear to my heart, for a variety of reasons, but primarily for the people it brought into my life (here's lookin' at you, babe!). This isn't a goodbye from Trouble and Steve so much as a see you later - don't hate me too much! Poetry excerpt from John Keats. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

Trouble’s playlist from Steve: trouble will find me

Steve's playlist from Trouble: rebel without a clue

previous || epilogue

Now, May, Finals Week

“Just think about it, kid,” Hopper says on his way out your classroom door. He’d requested a meeting during your conference block, when normally he’d amble in under some pretense just to shoot the shit.

You nod, at a loss for words. It’s not like you needed yet another thing on your plate— waiting to hear back from admissions and not spilling to Steve or the gang was bad enough.

Yeah, you’d applied for grad school (even though grad students were the worst) and Hop had been contacted as a reference, which prompted his little visit today. Apparently, the district had approved a stipend and sabbatical for faculty furthering their education in graduate school.

“I’d like to recommend you,” Hop said matter of factly, sitting in a desk across from yours. “Maybe not for the sabbatical until you’re further along in the program, writing your thesis and whatnot.”

“I, uh–” you stumbled to find the words. “Cart, horse. I haven’t been accepted yet.”

He leveled you with a look, “Are you shittin’ me? Of course you’re getting in.”

You swallowed audibly and busied yourself emptying your desk for the summer, “Well, time will tell I suppose.”

“This isn’t—” Hopper paused in thought. “This isn’t about Harrington, is it?”

“Huh,” you nearly yelled, clutching the cardboard box for dear life. You had been so careful too.

He cracks a smile, “I saw the pair of you at graduation, you think you’re so slick.”

That brings a smile to your face, good ol’ Hop sussing out the goings on like he’d never left the force.

“It’s nothing.” You assure him, “We haven’t— We’re professionals, okay?”

“I know,” he nods, voice lowering as if he could spook you. “I’m happy for you, really.”

A small smile breaks across your face, “Yeah, uh, thanks.”

Finals done and grades posted, you’d never been so happy to get home. Had plans to pour yourself onto the couch and not move for 72 hours.

But life (and Steve) had other plans.

He was sorting through the mail, chucking envelopes into various piles on the countertop. The loft was quiet that afternoon— Eddie had a gig in Indy that evening and Robin was crashing at Vickie’s for the night. Steve hummed a tune to himself, the occasional slap of paper hitting the granite punctuating it.

“Oh hey,” Steve turns with a large envelope in hand, “This looks important.” Tosses it with freakish accuracy, the white paper landing with a thwack where your shorts had ridden up against your thigh.

Distracted by whatever drama was unfolding on TV— something about a crew working on chartered private boats— you mindlessly slip your thumb beneath the lip of the envelope and tear it open.

It’s only once you’ve pulled the papers from it that you glance to see what’s what. The university’s crest shines like a beacon, your thumb worrying over the topmost letter. Steve, the bastard, has stopped his mail sorting and turned toward you.

He leans lazily against the counter, a knowing smirk fixed on his lips. You scramble up from the couch with the papers, too nervous to see for yourself. “Here,” you say, thrusting the envelope and documents to his chest. “Can you—”

Pulling you to his chest with an arm, he brushes his lips against the crown of your head. “Sure, honey.” You wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest— warm and familiar.

“You know,” he drawls, “The big envelope generally means something good, right?”

“I know,” muffled against his shirt.

He chuckles, hand coming up to cradle your head. Steve clears his throat, reads the opening of the letter in his best announcer voice. “Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that…”

The rest is drowned out by the rushing of blood in your ears, the tears pooling in your eyes breaking free to cascade down your cheeks. He squeezes you tight abandoning the acceptance letter and letting it flutter to the floor in favor of drawing you closer. Steve kisses you, licking your own tears into your mouth, your taste onto your tongue. And it’s so weirdly hot that your heart starts fluttering again, like you’re seeing him for the first time.

Because of course, just as things were going right something had to come and throw a wrench into things.

Plans for lazing in the early summer forgotten, the next few days saw you coming and going from the university campus for orientation, meetings with faculty, so on and so forth. As you were leaving the grad student mixer, a professor peeled off from a group of faculty to flag you down with a call of your name.

You turn, not recognizing them from the English department. She’s an older woman, has maybe a few years on your mother, and is swathed in a lovely linen dress— the cool elegance of minimalist style.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Holland,” she says shaking your hand. “I’m on the admissions committee and was very impressed with your work on Dante Alighieri.”

“Oh, thanks!”

“And you studied Italian as an undergrad?”

“Certo.”

That brings a smile to her face. “Perfetto,” she says with a perfect Italian accent and waves over another faculty member. “I only ask because there’s a summer intensive in Italy beginning next week that I think you’d be perfect for.”

Your mind reels. The new professor introduces himself and echoes Dr. Holland’s sentiments— a summer session of classes in Italy, in partnership with Università di Bologna, the oldest university in operation in the world. Scholarships that would cover the cost of tuition, travel, and accommodations for you to peruse.

What the fuck.

Vision swimming, you somehow come back to the conversation at hand. Dr. Holland presses a folder to your hand, “I know you were planning on taking the introductory grad school courses over the summer, but I hope you’ll consider joining us in Italy instead.”

You nod, gobsmacked and make your way to the car. Settling into the sweltering seat, you start the car and call Nancy. If anyone would know what to say in this situation, it would be her.

“That’s the thing,” you sigh, wine glass in hand as you slump on Nancy’s couch. “We’re not anything, haven’t discussed it. I mean, sure, we fuck like rabbits, but aside from that?”

She blows a raspberry and sips from her glass. “He’s in love with you, get over it.”

You jerk up, “Okay, maybe,” you allow. “But he hasn’t said anything.”

“And you won’t pony up to do it yourself?”

A scoff as you drain your glass. “I’m sorry, have you met me?”

Nancy laughs at that, loud and bright. “Unfortunately, yes!” She refills your glass before continuing, “Let’s be honest, you’re both hopeless when it comes to eachother.” She raises her brow before you can balk, “Full offense intended.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

She hums at that, head cocked to the side in thought. Her nail taps against the glass with a soft clink. A bite to her lips before she heaves a sigh, “Sometimes he just needs a push.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “I am absolutely not telling him he’s bullshit, if that’s what you’re after.”

Nancy, to her credit, winces uncomfortably at the memory. “No, no,” a shake of her head. “Absolutely not, you would never.” She sets her glass down carefully, giving you her full attention. “What I’m getting at is this: do you want to be something with Steve?”

She lets the question hang in the air between you.

“Because if you don’t know Trouble, you should back away now.” A low warning tone. “You’re it for him, have been since he laid eyes on you, but you’re both too scared to do anything about it.”

You drain your glass to the dregs and hastily take your leave. At the sound of the door closing, Nancy grabs her phone and brings it to her ear, “Hey Harrington, I need a favor…”

Returning from a less than helpful hang session at Nancy’s, you find a post-it note left on your bedroom, door that reads ‘meet me at our spot on lover’s lake. - s.’

Prizing it from the wood grain, you make your way back to the kitchen to scavenge for something to eat, in an effort to soak up the remnants of wine in your system. Opening the fridge you spy another post-it stuck to the topmost shelf: ‘get your ass down here, i’ll feed you soon enough. - s.’

With a laugh, you let the fridge door fall shut and grab your keys.

He can see you now, just barley, even in the indigo dark. Wonders to himself, how are you even real? How is it that you’re mine? An explanation that won’t ever come.

You slip into the cool water of Lover’s Lake like a dream, with nary a sound. Steve stumbles after you on the piles of clothing you’d left behind—bunched up denim shorts here, a threadbare tank-top over there, the silk of your thong musky and damp.

Fisting his shirt to pull it up and over his head, it falls to the forest floor behind him, jeans shucked off and tossed elsewhere, boxers joining your lingerie by the shore. His patience is wearing thin as you wade further and further from him out into the lake.

Little minx, he smiles and takes a breath before diving beneath the waves. Arms cutting through the placid water at a quick pace until he’s occupying the space between your bare legs, and coming up for air.

One arm drags you near, lazily pressing you close, tight around the small of your back as the tide breaks around your waist, minute movements almost imperceptible— the slow roll of your hips against his.

Water shallow enough to tread and keep you buoyant. Steve kisses you slow and sweet, pulling you flush against his chest while you writhe under the water’s surface. Body slick and wanton and arching into his own.

His dick jumps when you lift yourself to drape your arms around his shoulders. A sharp breath replaced with a shaky exhale as he brings his forehead to rest on yours, dark eyes taking in the exhilarated flush of your body.

And Steve knows, under his skin and tucked into the cage of his ribs, near the beating of his anguished heart, that you’re the only thing left in this world worth worshipping. To keep you, and render you a flightless bird, to clip your wings, would be all for naught.

He has to let you go again, and so soon after you found him. From perihelion to aphelion before the moon’s full turning. The soft curve of your throat drawn taut as you glance upward, marvelling at the stars and planets in the northern sky.

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” Your voice is a husk, low and hoarse, in the dark. “Its loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness.” Your eyes, once fixed on the sea of stars above, shift to him once more.

Closer to the shoreline now, and unbeknownst to you, Steve had gently waded you both inshore, until he could draw you toward the dock.

You let him walk you back until you’re flush against a mooring pole, wood rough against your moon-bathed skin. Body yielding to him as both his hands slide beneath your bottom, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before he pulls you forward by the hips.

“S’okay, honey,” He mutters—right into your panting mouth with a sultry pull of his lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Steve,” You gasp, “This is unfair.” Your body jerks with every teasing kiss from his lips that he laves and sucks to the column of your throat.

He ignores you, crawling his hands onto your hips to keep you from squirming. Works his thigh in between your legs for good measure. Once you’re settled, he moves one hand to your center a finger trailing up and down your slippery folds. His mouth latches onto the spot that makes you keen, just behind your ear. You fist his hair in both hands at the same time he slips a digit inside.

But Steve doesn’t move. Other than his tongue’s soft licks on your neck and into your kiss-bitten mouth, he doesn’t move at all. He happily lets his finger rest inside of you, gathering your juices all over his hand.

You whimper, trying to shimmy against them, anything to create more contact. Its intrusion lights a terrible match inside of your body, and goddamn it, you want to a forest fire.

Calming breaths in and out. Steady head, steady heart. When you’re able to meet his gaze again, you take a moment to see him as he truly is: dappled in moonlight, forelock hanging in front of his eyes, his entire focus trained on you.

It feels like an eternity passes before he finally lets you have another—adding one more thick finger inside, stretching you as he moves them both around, curling them, scissoring them, pumping them in and out.

Steve sucks enthusiastically on your sensitive skin and lips, fucks you with two fingers almost wildly, and your body responds with fervor. You gasp and moan, arching back into his hand, goosebumps blooming all over your shoulders and down your arms and legs.

You shake like a leaf in his arms, not knowing if it’s from the cool night air or due to the man before you.

Instead of increasing his pace, Steve continues to stroke you with his fingers, slowly prodding at your entrance with a third. Your eyes roll back and get lost in your head as you lean back with a whimper.

“Just trying to get you ready.” He murmurs, so soft and low that your heart stills.

Your legs wrap around his back loosely as he holds you still, his previous two fingers pushing inside gently. The third finger meets resistance as you tense up. “S-sorry,” You whisper, “I’m…”

Your head knocks back against the wooden pier. But you move his hand back and try again. He’s so tender and sweet with you as he turns his head to place kisses on your cheek and ear.

You blink owlishly, trying desperately to weave your threads of thought together. A shake of your head to rattle them loose. A sweet smile up to Steve, a barely there kiss to his lips.

Your eyelids are heavy, breaths heaving from your chest. Steve commits to memory the way your lids flutter when he touches you.

You gasp and moan, arching your chest into his and pulled as taut as a bow sting—back forming a crescent-shaped arc, a sliver of the moon radiant in the inky blue reflection of the water.

“C’mon, that’s it, honey. You’re so close. Almost there… Good girl… Good girl.”

With a cry, you come undone, rolling your hips every which way as you reach orgasm on Steve’s hand. His voice continues to praise you, lips kissing your sweat-slicked collar, bristles on his cheek and jaw tickling your sensitive skin.

Coming back to yourself, you shiver bodily. And Steve looks at you as if you hold infinities in the palms your hands.

You reach for him reverently, desperate for his shape of beauty and noble nature. A dream realized, a wish granted, gentle and true. You feel brave enough to shift and stroke him with determination.

You whisper, "Missed you," eliciting a shudder from him as your palm grips him tenderly.

Relishing in the temperature of his body, you sigh. Spreading the beaded precome at the tip of his cock up and down his shaft. Steve groans, head falling to yours.

“Missed you more,” He hums, eyes heavy-lidded and lustful.

Gasping as Steve guides your hips with one hand, and grips himself with the other. Slowly and without haste, he fills you inch by inch until he’s so deep inside you think he could burst from your throat.

You whimper. There aren’t enough words to describe it— the gratifying sting, an all-encompassing and chilling burn, a mystifying and utter fullness that nearly brings tears to your eyes. You’re fearful to move, to lose this sensation, and afraid to feel what comes next. But you know that you want it.

Steve kisses your lips tenderly, babbling praise, whispering affirmations, soothing the shock that surges up your spine with his warm palm. Slowly, he rocks you back, as water lapping against your thighs, holds onto your body with one hand, smoothing the hair that falls over your face with the other.

You’re gripping him so tightly it takes some effort to slide even an inch of him out— and there’s many inches of him. Sweat collects on your brow as you grind, dragging against his length, forcing shudders to course all over both your bodies. “Is this okay?” you cry, delirious, “Steve? You feel so good.”

He moves in you, like a prayer.

A groan escapes him as his hand squeezes your back just a little too hard. He’s holding back, trying to prolong your pleasure, but his own is chasing him down, only a few steps away from pouncing.

You coax it towards him with faster snapping of your hips against his, clawing at his back, nibbling on his ear. “Come on, lover… just a little more.”

With a grunt and a shudder, and a hard kiss to your lips that makes your teeth clack against each other, Steve thrusts one last time as deeply as possible, riding out his orgasm as he pulls your hips against his.

The two of you feel rooted together, sticky with sweat and so tightly flushed that you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. Your body slumps as you drape your arms over his neck. Steve turns his head to kiss your shoulder before making the effort to pull away, your shaky legs held in his secure grasp.

The black slik of night gives way to the earth’s rotation, stars and moon bending to the will of gravity. Splashes in its silent, dark depths as you broach the shore. A little shaky on your feet, but he’s close behind, sultry and brilliant like the summer morning quickly approaching.

Whispers and murmurs tucked between fervent kisses as you dress. Fabric sticking to damp skin as his hands roam. Frenetic movements as he backs you up against the car, the coolness of it causing you to shiver.

“You should do it,” he rasps against your lips. “The Italy thing, you always loved it there.”

“How did you–” you sputter.

You can’t see him roll his eyes, but you just know. “Nance, who else?”

The warmth of Steve’s body burns against you, a hand threading through your hair half-convinced the moon is hiding there, hanging like a jewel in the night. And you’re a mess when you kiss him. Your breath is warm and so sweet, and the center of his chest squirms like something alive.

In that moment, you love him but can’t tell him, not yet. You decide the sun that will kiss freckles to his face will do it for you.

The song of summer sings out as you load your suitcase into Nancy’s car a few days later. The trunk slams closed and your back is pressed against his chest, his arm hanging casually around your collar. It is the end of May, the first bloom of summer balmy on your skin.

Steve had not taken the news of Nancy driving you to the airport well.

At all.

A sponged necklace of kisses to your throat as the light creeps in. Sheets kicked to the edge of the bed so you’re tangled up in him. Skin already glinting gold in the summer sun. Twisting in his hold, desperate to glance at the time. “Steve,” muffled against the heft of his shoulder, “I gotta go, Nance will be here soon.”

The turn of his weight bearing down, trapping your body under his. A cruel circle of his hips has you shuddering. His breath ghosts along your skin, “Baby, baby please.” Nose trailing down from your sternum to the swell of your stomach. Pausing there for lips to lave kisses on the curves that trailed to your hips.

Eyes dark and heady with promise, “Just a taste.” Lips and mouth delving lower now, fingers parting the cleave of your cunt with a squelch. He hooks them back into his mouth with a groan. “Mmm,” he slurs, drunk off your arousal. “You taste good, sweetheart,” His nose bumps against your clit, “Like honey.”

Breath stuttering in the cage of your ribs, you fist his hair in one hand and tug. Steve moans overtly, pupils blown wide while he’s face deep in pussy. “Steve,” Your voice trembles. He glances up, smoldering and glorious, drinking you up. “Ah—fuck,” before you’re overtaken again.

You’re desperate, and he can hear it in your voice. A quiver in your throat, you swallow thickly mouth falling open in a pant. His fingers work into you easily, dragging exquisitely along your channel—warm and wet, only growing more so with every thrust of his hand. You mewl, hips bucking up as he sucks your swollen clit.

Legs thrown over his shoulders, as he cants your pelvis forward, arm heavy against your stomach to bully you in place. “Sweet girl,” He coos, lips ruddy and wet with your slick. “Doin’ so well for me.” You shiver in his hold, sunbeams hazy with orange glow, the refracting light makes a halo to crown him and for a second you feel blind.

Then you feel something pulled taut in your belly. A chord stretching like a rubber band before it snaps. The wind up is excruciating, Steve’s litany of devotions falling in hushed murmurs from his lips. His fingers plunging up into the chasm between your legs, pulling away wetter each time.

He bends back down, tongue circling your clit at a dizzying pace. A third finger slides in impossibly, a keen igniting from your throat—high and whimpering. God, you’re so close. You babble, hands scrambling purchase against his dewy skin.

“Come,” he commands, “Come for me right now and I’ll fuck you through it, how you like. Then I’ll make you come again and we can go.”

“Oh my god,” you thrash on the bed, hair sticking to the sheen of your face, hanging on by a thread as his fingers drive into you, on a mission to break either the bed frame or your brain, both were fine. In a rush. Can’t quit now. A little bit more. Your entire body is folded against him, insides fluttering desperately, maddeningly.

“Everyone’s gonna know,” Steve promises, “You stumbling in there.”

The image flashes through your lust-addled brain, the telltale sign of him screwing you stupid— lips swollen, legs wobbly, outfit crumpled up, smelling like him and sex in front of all your friends.

“You want it, don’t you, want them to know you’re all mine?” He smears your wet around the sides of your cunt— spit, slick— up to your clit. And then he pushes you like a button, flicking the pad of his thumb upwards and grins at the way you jerk in time.

“Stevie,” you mewl, “Steve.” The syllable breaks, your panting comes out in choked babbling.

You drily sob out something broken, a tiny echo of affirmation as he keeps fucking into you like he could break through. He’s really abused your pussy this morning, maybe gone too far, but every time you come like this, it’s like he’s seeing something holy.

“Oh my god…!” It’s a small shout as you shatter, and it makes Steve’s spine light up as you rub your face further into the pillow.

“Praying to me, sweetheart?” but doesn’t stop those tiny, hard circles, doesn’t stop melting into your body, his dick pulsing as he ruts against the sheets. “You can keep doing that,” he urges, “I like that.”

So, you’re not surprised when the two of you stumble into a nearly finished breakfast, as predicted, in a terrible disarray, and Robin crosses herself before promising, “I’m getting you two a goddamn chastity belt.”

On the couch, Eddie clicks the remote to a new channel, snapping his ring-clad fingers with an offhanded, “A-fucking-men.”

As much as you tried to tell yourself that this wasn’t goodbye but instead see you soon, it didn’t stick. But the ache in your gut did—low and menacing, growling like an animal.

Eddie and Robin were easy, promises to stay in touch and bring back the best candy. Your parents were less so, tight hugs and dried tears on cheeks.

Steve, however, you needed to brace yourself for. Short of chaining yourself to Nancy’s car, you weren’t sure how you’d escape with your dignity intact. He was already kissing on you, soft and sweet, as Nancy slid into the driver’s seat while Eddie and Robin waved goodbye walking back inside.

You slip from his grasp in a flash, pulling him by the belt loops to knock hips. “Stevie, lover mine,” you sing, his palms cupping your ass as his hands slide into your back pockets.

Lover.

What a word.

You think about it every waking second—the way he stretches in the morning, how he sings in the shower, dances in the kitchen, smiles and beams at anyone who passes by—how good he is.

How you love him.

“Mm—” raspy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Feet walking you closer and closer and you’re pressed against him. Nosing along the column of his neck, nipping at the delicate skin there, watching as his throat bobs when he swallows.

Hands free themselves from denim confines, a thumb caresses the small of your back. Steve pries your hand from his chest, and brings it to his mouth, placing a tender kiss against your palm.

You hum as his lips brush your skin, observing as he meanders to the thin flesh of your wrist. Hazel eyes near golden in the morning sun as Steve looks to you, face open and fond. Lips featherlight when they kiss your thundering pulse.

Only then do you start to break.

You thought you were prepared. But it steals the breath from your lungs, levelling you to ruin, a creeping sense of hopelessness in its wake.

He’s quick to notice, crushing you to his chest and hand cradling your head. Soothing murmurs of “S’okay honey, we’ll be alright,” and the rasp of your name. Fingers brushing hair from your face with a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

And it is hard to leave him, but you can do difficult things.

Forehead bent to yours, back warm in the sun’s decorous rays, a searing tear-laden kiss and you’re off. Turned back in your seat to see him recede in the distance until he’s a mere speck on the horizon as Nancy tugs you forward.

All the goodbyes had all been said, save one thing lodged in the depths of your throat.

I love you.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfiction #the kids aren't alright rosewaterandivy #modern!steve harrington #teacher!steve

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iamnotthere-idonotdie · 3 months

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adored, pt. 2

…………………………………………………………………………………….

synopsis: reader and bruce haven’t seen each other in two weeks. they don’t know where the relationship stands, or if there’s one at all. they’ve had to deal with the press finding out about that first night together, and are continuing to navigate through the public eye.

warnings: bruce wayne (battinson) x reader, start and implication of sex but it’s not written out

a/n: i’m not in love with this part 2 and i couldn’t figure out how to make it longer/more interesting, i guess it’s more of a transition to part 3, i was interested to bring in the aspect of bruce wayne’s publicity and him being a public figure but i had some trouble putting it together, i was also inspired by the song edge of my seat by lume, so go listen to that if you’d like (full playlist here), like last part too there’s probably typos and ooc things that bruce does/says but this is just kinda where the story went while i was writing it

edit: link to part 1

…………………………………………………………………………………….

“mr. bill isn’t in right now, can i take a message?”

you’re getting better at that. at sounding like you actually wanna be here. you keep glancing at the clock, begging for the day to be over.

“thank you, i will be sure to get that message to him right away. have a great day”

it’s been two weeks now since… him.

you’ve been hoping you’d run into him somewhere, but of course you haven’t seen him since that morning. when you two sat in your chairs for two hours, drinking coffee, just enjoying each others comfortable silence.

he left that afternoon, but you’ll never forget when you were seeing him out, and as you were saying goodbye, he leaned in and kissed you one last time.

you’ve been yearning for that again, for that feeling of being wanted. you haven’t been able to get that again.

joe left that next day. he said he’d been seeing someone for a while, that that’s where we actually went that weekend, to see him. of course you were hurt by this, but you knew it was for the best. you two hadn’t been in it for a while. you’re just glad he’s the one who moved out. you love that apartment.

finally, the clock says 5:01 and you pack up your things and start to leave.

the press had a heyday when they saw bruce leaving your apartment that afternoon. you didn’t even know how they’d found him, but headline after headline speculated who’s apartment he was walking out of. of course, no one ever figured it out, and the story blew over as quickly as it started. you just wish you could call him and ask him… if that night meant to him what it meant to you. if he also felt that tension, that aching, and now if he feels as empty as you do that you haven’t seen each other.

maybe it was for the best though that it was just that one night. maybe it wasn’t meant to be. you two were astronomically different anyway. he’s an actual billionaire, and you’re a secretary. you’re running all these things through your mind as you take the train home. when you get back to your apartment finally, you just stand in your living room for a second, in a daze, thinking… what now? after much contemplation, you look over in your bedroom and see your outfit you set aside in case you’d ever want to go back to that bar. last time you just went in whatever you wore to work, but you decided two weeks ago that if you went back you’d want to dress nicer. it’s just been sitting there, unused. a few minutes go by of you just staring at the garment, and then you go in to put it on.

you hail a cab and and ask to go to the jade jewel. your hands shake the whole drive and you start regretting this decision. it’s been two weeks. what do you expect to see? and if he is there, then what do you even say to him? the decision’s made for you though, because you arrive at the bar. you thank the driver and head inside.

you sit at the same table in the back and order your drink, an old fashioned, just like last time. you sit there, squirming in your seat, drinking your cocktail way too fast, and can’t even pay attention to the music because you’re so nervous. why are you so nervous? he’s not coming. why would he?

an hour goes by, you’ve finished your drink, and the room is getting more and more crowded with every tick of the minute hand. you all but decide to leave when you glance up and see bruce walk in. he looks around the bar for a second, then his eyes land on you. and he smiles. you smile back. he stops at the bar and gets his drink while on his way to you, leaving what looks like a very generous tip in the jar. as he’s coming over you notice he has your usual in his other hand.

“you’re here.” you say.

“i’ve been here three times in the last two weeks. i was hoping to see you.” he says with a smirk.

you feel yourself blush.

“i’ve been hoping to see you too.”

he sits down and hands you your drink.

“thank you.” you say.

the two of you sit there at the table listening to the music, sipping your drinks. he finishes his first then goes to get another, but not before asking if you need a refill too. you decline; you’d rather not get sloppy drunk in front of bruce wayne, not tonight at least.

he comes back to the table and sits, this time not-so-subtly scooting his chair closer to you.

“so, how have you been?” he asks.

“i’ve been okay. mostly just working.”

“me too.” he says, as he looks down at his drink.

you pause for a second, then break the silence with something that’s been on your mind every day for the past two weeks.

“i’m sorry, by the way. about the paparazzi.” you say, looking down.

“it’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

“i just wouldn’t want them to do that again, you know?” you look at him, hopefully telling him through your eyes that you don’t want to risk this getting out… but that you also don’t want to leave alone tonight.

“well… they wouldn’t think anything of it if i’m just at home, right?”

you can read between the lines.

“yeah, i guess so. they wouldn’t notice me coming out though? of your place?”

“i have ways around that.” he says with a slight smirk.

you smile back at him.

the next few hours at the bar is spent with the two of you talking, drinking, dancing, kissing. you’re surprised no one in the bar is noticing it but you’ve picked a convenient spot for the two of you that’s fairly unassuming. you just can’t believe the story hasn’t gotten out yet that bruce wayne is here. with you.

as the night gets darker and bar gets emptier, you decide to take the night back to his house. you walk to the door, hand in hand, and you’re met with lightning flashes of cameras blinding you the minute you walk out of the bar. the two of you are stunned and then suddenly bruce is wrapping his arm around you and covering your face with his jacket as he rushes you to his car. you both get in the back and he instructs the driver to take you both home.

you catch your breath as you try to fathom what exactly just happened. someone at the bar must have let it spill that he was there. and now the press knows he was with you. it’ll be all over the news: bruce wayne seen with unknown date at dive bar. you can’t help but feel guilty, knowing that if he hadn’t been to your apartment two weeks ago then this never would’ve happened. you look over at bruce and he’s staring out the window of the car.

you don’t know what to say. maybe you shouldn’t say anything.

the two of you make it back to his home, luckily the press isn’t here, not yet at least. so you quickly make it inside. the two of you still haven’t spoken yet. he just goes to his living room and sits in a big armchair. you follow, and sit on a couch across from him.

he seems to be contemplating something. maybe you, whether this is all worth it.

“i’m sorry,” he says, breaking the long silence. “this isn’t fair to you. you didn’t sign up for this.”

“neither did you.”

“but i should’ve been smarter about it.” he says, clearly frustrated.

“really, i’ll be okay.” you try to reassure him.

“i just don’t want… i don’t want to lose…” he trails off, looking down at his hands.

“lose what?”

his status, his reputation? …you?

he gives you your answer by standing up from the chair and sitting down on the couch next to you, and kissing you. the two of you sit there, slowly intertwining with each other, trying to forget the world outside.

and for a little while, you do. for a little while, you forget about them, the flocks of vultures coming to see what stories they can drum up. you forget about the people on tv and on the internet making up narratives and theorizing about who you are. you forget about the bright lights coming for him, coming for you.

and you two just stay there, on the edge of the seat, becoming one.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

#the batman #battinson #bruce wayne #fanfic #robert pattinson #bruce wayne x reader #pictures from pinterest #part 2 of 3 #part 2 #part 3 coming soon #batman

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moltengoldveins · 1 month

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That TCU post…that is truly one of, if not the greatest thing I’ve ever seen come out of this fandom. I tried my own hand a while back at writing “the dsmp but taken seriously”; gave it a name and a playlist but didn’t really write much before I went back to my other projects. If you ever have the motivation to do more with that outline I’d be honored to be a co-writer or help out in any way, or if you want you could just use my title as a name for the series: A Ballad of Broken Dreams.

holy crap op this is so sweet. Thank you so much. I’m… wow ok. That. Wow. Thank you. That’s legitimately so kind and I’m so glad you enjoyed it XD. Id also Love to see your playlist and your thoughts behind the songs if you’re down?! That sounds awesome :D

funnily enough, I’ve had a drafted outline for this heccin thing running around in my head since the Butcher Army arc. Right around when SAD-ist dropped her animatic, I simultaneously realized ‘oh wow, I Adore this concept’ and ‘oh wow, I Highly doubt the CCs are gonna manage to do this the way I’d want to see it’ and lo and behold: I was correct. So painfully correct. (There were also People Involved whom I had Really Bad Feelings About from very early on that, sure enough, turned out to be exactly what i thought they were, rip) So the Emduo prequels, Icarus heccin Dying, and the end of Axe of Peace have been around for Ages.

I’d honestly love to do more with this concept, (i am designing movie posters as we speak) but due to Chronic Illness Pog I’m in a rather unstable financial situation? And don’t have a ton of free time for art. Any big projects are gonna take a While, or id need to find a way to use it or something adjacent to fund, y’know, Rent. That being said, I’m definitely writing the emduo prequels, both as movie scripts and as novels, as those are the films focused on, yknow, My Bois. I also think it’d be hilarious to release the novels and then the scripts and watch people Loose Their Minds over the ‘inaccurate adaptation >>:(‘

I’d absolutely love to work with other people in the fandom on this stuff, though I’ve never been the best at directly co-writing (my writing method and style is painfully specific (ie needlessly poetic) and I’m very autistic: I don’t like it when people touch that Specific Thing) but literally anything else? Im open ears. I love collabs.

and finally, I adore your name for the series, (excellent word choice there /srs, it fits perfectly with the symbolism of the whole story) and I think it works really Really well for the actual DSMP, but if I’m entirely honest… I’m not sure it fits the TCU? Like genuinely I’m so grateful for the suggestion, I love when people offer ideas and bounce things around like that. But one of the main things I tried to do with this concept was work out how the story could actually end Well. A deep-seated belief in the good-but-fallen nature of man, the importance of hope, and the inevitability of redemption kinda comes part and parcel with the whole Being-A-Christian Thing (if it doesn’t, you’re missing the Whole Point Of The Bible) and while the actual DSMP may have ended in broken dreams… this doesn’t. That was my first thought when writing that outline: This Is Going To End Well. Not for wish-fulfillment reasons, not because I’m naive or I don’t like bad endings, but because fundamentally, everything sad is a lie, and if the story has ended in tragedy, it hasn’t ended yet.

If I had to pick a series name now, I’m not sure what I’d pick. A part of me balks at referencing anything popularized by Our Local Redacted, but ‘unfinished symphony’ wasn’t his in the first place, it was from Hamilton. “The Finished Symphony” has a cool ring to it? I dunno. If anyone else has ideas please feel free to toss them in here aight, I’m not settling on anything for a While.

Anyways, thanks for Ted talking with me, drink water 💜

#TCU #Sure hope that tag isn’t already used for anything horrible I don’t know about XD #Technoblade Cinematic Universe #Asks #I’ve never really answered an ask before this is new and exciting #Op sorry for co-opting your ask to rant about the goodness of life and the importance of redemption for a sec there #Well I’m not Sorry sorry but you get my meaning XD #technoblade #dsmp #dsmp au #antarctic empire #emduo

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tinyhockey · 1 year

Text

be my fire in the cold - winter exchange 2k23

well this is something eh? i went into this hoping to get up the courage to write my first hockey fic and ended up writing about 9.3k words of christmas fluff. who'd have thought!

big thank you first and foremost to @antoineroussel for organizing this exchange! thanks to my beta readers @hockeytwinx @neuroweird and @thewonderzebra, and to @2manytabsopen @jostystyles and @teex for help with characterization.

and lastly, but most importantly: thank you to @lifeofpriya for giving me such wonderful inspiration and answering each and every one of my probably very annoying questions! from your magical winter exchange elf, i hope you enjoy! 💖

quick note that this is an OC fic and an AU. have fun reading!

“Santa, tell me if you're really there…”

Priya hummed to herself as she sent off another email, unconsciously nodding her head to the sound of Ariana Grande belting through her airpods. She’d had her Christmas playlist practically on loop over the past six days, as if determined to broadcast as much holiday spirit as possible directly into her ears. She didn’t think anyone could really blame her for that, though. There were only so many days out of the year where it was socially acceptable to blast Santa-themed music. It only made sense to make the most of them.

Besides, it had been a slow morning at the office. Priya had been hired as an intern (paid, thank-you-very-much) back in October, and she had quickly learned that there was no such thing as an average workday. Sometimes she found herself rushing around running errands for every person who passed her desk; thankfully, most of them were friendly, with a few exceptions she preferred not to dwell on. Other times, like today, she had to stop herself from browsing skincare websites or looking up last night’s baseball highlights. Thankfully, she’d found that her long hair typically hid her earbuds, meaning she could listen to audiobooks or k-pop albums to make the time go by faster. Unfortunately, they were sometimes too good at soundproofing.

“Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year…”

“Priya!”

She jolted at the sudden call, eyes darting up, only to see her manager standing before her desk, a wry smile on his face. She quickly reached over to pause the music on her phone, tucking her hair behind her ears as she removed her airpods.

“Sorry, Dougie,” she smiled sheepishly. “I’m working, I swear.”

“Sure you are,” he teased, letting out a laugh.

“No, seriously! I just sent off some emails. I just figured, you know…” Priya shrugged.

“It’s fine,” Dougie shook his head fondly. “You’re fine. I’m sure you can get your work done while you listen to carols.”

“Maybe I’ll be better with some Christmas music,” Priya responded. “Almost everything is.”

Dougie’s smile grew. “I’m actually glad you said that.”

Priya was halfway to matching his expression, only to suddenly take notice of the bright red folder in his hands. She quirked an eyebrow upwards in suspicion. “Should I be worried?”

“Oh, yeah. Extremely.” After a second, he clarified, “I’m kidding.”

“I figured.” Priya nodded towards the folder. “What’s in there?”

“Oh, right! So.” He leaned forward across her desk, as if he were entrusting her with some great mission. “Every year, we have this big company holiday party towards the end of December. There’s always music, and it gets catered with all this awesome food. One year, they even had an open bar. Now that was a fun time.”

“It sounds like it,” Priya laughed, eyes still trained on the folder. “So is this an invitation, or…”

“Oh. No. Well, kind of,” he laughed. “See, the last couple years, it’s always been planned by the same two people. But one just retired, and one’s out on maternity leave. So…”

“You entrust it to the intern,” Priya finished, tutting in fake disapproval, though her smile was clear even as she shook her head.

“It won’t just be you. Not that I don’t think you could pull it off alone.” Dougie passed over the folder. “Tom and Linda left all the major stuff in there. Who to call if you have questions about the space, which caterers they usually hire, all that stuff.”

Priya flipped through the folder as Dougie spoke, running her finger down the pages. The photos of the ballroom showed a large but intimate space, with dim lighting and velvet curtains. It would be nice to hang some string lights over the windows, she thought. And they could set up some tables there, and maybe a photo booth if the budget allowed…

“Does that sound good?”

Priya glanced up from the folder, lips already curved into a smile. “Yeah, no, of course. Absolutely. It’ll be fun.”

“Great!” Dougie smiled back. There seemed to be something slightly more to it than just a happy sort of relief, but Priya couldn’t quite pin it down.

He took out his phone, firing off a few emails. “You have anything going on at 4:30 today?”

“Not that I know of,” Priya shrugged. “Why?”

“I’ll book off one of the smaller conference rooms for you guys, then. You can get started on the planning. Normally we have it on the Friday before Christmas, so that gives you about two weeks or so.” Dougie smiled as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I look forward to it.”

He had already taken a step away when a question popped into Priya’s mind. “Dougie!” she called. “Who else am I working with?”

“Didn’t I just tell you?” he chuckled. “One of the other interns, from tech support. You might know him.”

No. No, no, no, please, no, anyone but-

“You’ve met Nico, right?”

Damnit.

“Uh, yeah, I think. Once or twice.” Priya fidgeted with the corner of the folder, hoping she’d kept her face in a neutral enough expression.

“Cool. Glad you two know each other,” Dougie smiled, that same strange tinge to his grin as before. “You guys will be great together, I’m sure.”

She smiled tightly. “Can’t wait.”

Priya waited until Dougie’s footsteps sounded far enough away, letting out a groan as she dropped her head onto her desk. Of course. Of everyone in the entire company, it had to be Nico.

She hadn’t started off disliking him. In fact, she’d almost thought he was cute. Alright, fine, she’d thought he was incredibly cute. When she’d seen him at the intern orientation, she’d been the first to come up to him and try to introduce herself. Instead, all she’d found herself met with was a dark look and a curt reply. She’d tried sitting with him at lunch, asking him about himself, even bringing in coffee for him. Every time, the same sullen stare, the same short sentences. She’d won over almost everyone else in the office. Nico was her one exception.

Every so often, Priya still caught him staring at her. Across the cafeteria, in company meetings — she’d turn her head, and catch him just turning his away. She couldn’t figure out exactly what she’d done to irritate him so much. At this point, she wasn’t sure finding out would make the difference.

Sighing, Priya propped up the folder on her desk, studying its festive red color as she put her airpods back in. There wasn’t any going back on it now. She’d already agreed. Dougie was her manager, and she didn’t want to let him down. Maybe, she thought, starting her playlist back up, it would end up being fun. Maybe Nico wouldn’t glower at her too much, and the whole thing would go off without a hitch.

It’s Christmas, she thought, letting out a breath as she went to check her inbox. Miracles happen all the time.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

4:30 found Priya sitting in the conference room, alternating between looking through the window of the door and her phone clock. Once or twice she considered messaging Dougie, just to ensure she hadn’t misheard him on the meeting time. To be fair, she was sure tech support was always busy, and something might have come up. With Nico, however…

It took another ten minutes for the door to finally open. Priya glanced up from the red party folder on the table, watching as Nico walked in. He barely even seemed to notice her, eyes glued to his phone screen as he typed something.

Seizing the opportunity to take a quick breath, Priya forced herself to smile in his direction. “Hey.” Nico didn’t respond even as he sat down in one of the free chairs, crossing one leg over the other. His eyes remained trained on his phone, seeming to be reading something before going back to typing. To her surprise, she thought she could almost see the hint of a smile on his face.

Clearing her throat, Priya sat up in her chair, straightening her back. “So, um, looks like we’re working together, right?”

Nico was silent until he finished his typing, putting his phone face-up on the table. “Yes,” he responded, dark eyes seeming to study her — judge her, even. “Dougie gave you the folder.”

“Yeah. Yeah, um, he did.” She nodded, a tight smile returning to her face as she flipped it open. “I already called the venue owners, and we’re all set for the Friday night before Christmas. I didn’t want to do anything else before I asked you, but I did look up a few ideas, and I think-” Priya went to hand over some of the ideas she’d printed photos of, only to see Nico back on his phone, typing something. She frowned, voice trailing off into silence.

Nico finished typing, glancing up again. “You can keep talking. What ideas?” Priya took a breath, passing the papers across the table. “I looked up some holiday decorations, and I thought the Christmas tree made out of balloons was super cute. And then-”

“You can’t have a tree made out of balloons.”

Priya raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry?”

“That’s silly. We could get a real tree for the same as it could cost for all of those balloons,” Nico rebutted, passing that page back across to her.

She frowned, looking back down at the photo. “I mean, maybe. But a lot of people are going to have trees at home, you know? And it’s easier to take down balloons than it is to get rid of a big tree. Plus, you’d get pine needles everywhere.”

Nico huffed out a sigh, shaking his head as he flipped through her other pages.

Priya felt her shoulders slump, softly biting down on her bottom lip. “Okay. Maybe it’s a little much for, like, just starting out.” She went back into the folder, taking out a blank sheet of notebook paper. “What about, like, a color scheme? Just so we have an idea in mind. I kind of like the traditional, like, red and green, but we could also try some sort of blue and white wintery colors. Or silver and gold, but that could look kind of dark in the ballroom, unless we got some lights. Oh, what about-”

She cut herself off as she looked up at Nico. Once again, his eyes were trained on his phone screen, as if she’d never said anything at all. Worst of all, there was a smile on his face, like the whole thing was amusing him.

Priya felt her mouth tighten into a line. Impulsively she snatched the papers from in front of him, quickly stuffing them into the folder.

“What are you doing?”

She looked up, only to see Nico looking at her. He had the nerve to seem confused.

“I’m going home,” she responded, gripping tightly to the folder as she stood, taking the long way around the table just so she didn’t have to step around him.

“You’re what?” Nico stood, following Priya as she left the room and began walking towards her desk. “Why? I was listening.”

“No, you weren’t!” she retorted sharply, finally turning around to face him. “I’m trying to get your opinions on this, because we’re supposed to be working together. Both of us. But instead you’re ignoring me, you just keep — texting your girlfriend, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I’m not texting my girlfriend,” Nico responded, his arms crossed across his chest.

“Then whoever it is! That’s not the point!” Priya groaned, running an exasperated hand through her hair. “The point is, I came here with ideas, and a checklist, and wanting to actually make this work. You show up late, which, fine, maybe you had something else to do, but then you turn down my ideas and you don’t even listen to me!”

“I told you, I was listening.”

“Were you? What was I just talking about, before I left?”

Nico opened his mouth, only for it to slowly shut. At the very least, he had the decency to look guilty over it.

“See? Exactly.” Priya sighed, beginning to walk backwards away from him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just… take care of everything.”

“But-”

“You won’t get in trouble. I’ll tell Dougie you had something come up.” She turned around, not wanting to hear any excuses he would somehow come up with. “It’s totally fine.”

“Priya...”

She didn’t turn back, walking back towards her desk, noting a lack of footsteps behind her.

Well, she thought. Maybe Christmas miracles are in short supply this year.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

The next afternoon found Priya bursting through the office doors, trying to speed-walk as fast as possible to her desk. Her class had gone on fifteen minutes longer than usual, meaning she’d had to book it to the office the moment her professor had finally dismissed them. It certainly didn’t help her bad mood.

Not that she was in a bad mood. She was totally fine. Chipper, even. She definitely hadn’t spent yesterday evening on the phone to her best friend Jack, ranting about how immensely frustrating a certain coworker of theirs was in between mouthfuls of leftover pasta. And she surely hadn’t been awake until three in the morning, trying to brainstorm ideas on how to throw a company holiday party so unbelievably kick-ass that it made said coworker feel like a fool for not helping out. That was for someone who hadn’t put the entire situation behind them. Like Priya had.

Priya turned the corner, brushing some wayward hair out of her face, only to stop in her tracks. There, pacing in front of her desk, dark eyes trained on the floor, was Nico.

“What are you doing?” Priya asked before she could stop herself.

Nico’s head jerked up as he halted his pacing, as if he’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t sensed her approach. “Oh. Um. Priya. Hi.”

“Hi,” Priya responded, trying to keep her voice even. (Not that there was any reason for it not to be. Because she wasn’t frustrated. At least, Nico didn’t need to know that she was.) “Any reason why you’re burning a line into the carpet?”

“Why I’m… what?” Nico asked, brow furrowed.

Priya sighed, crossing her arms. “Why are you at my desk? Don’t you have, like, computers to fix or something?”

“No. I mean, yes, I do, but…” Nico huffed out a breath, squaring his shoulders. “I wanted to apologize.”

Priya blinked over at him, trying to process the other’s words. “You what?”

“For yesterday. What happened.”

Letting out another sigh, Priya shook her head slightly. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” she muttered, moving past Nico to begin unpacking her bag.

“No, I-“

“If Dougie put you up to this, I’ll talk to him about it. I told him it wasn’t your fault.”

“Priya-”

“Listen, it’s totally fine,” Priya continued as she took out her lunch bag. “I’ll take care of everything. You don’t have to worry-”

“Can I just talk for a second?” Nico interjected. Priya’s eyes flickered up, only to be met with a look of desperation she didn’t think she’d ever seen on the other. Her mouth shut before she could say anything else.

Nico let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I — Dougie didn’t talk to me. I came by myself.”

Priya’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but she kept silent.

“It wasn’t right of me to ignore you like that,” Nico continued, his deep brown eyes soft as they met hers. “You came in with all of these ideas, and I just shot yours down. And then I ignored you while you were trying to help. It was rude. You deserve better than that. So. I’m sorry.”

Priya’s face softened as Nico spoke. She’d never heard the other sound so genuine. “Oh,” she murmured. “Th-thank you for apologizing. I appreciate it. It’s, um, it’s totally fine.”

“Thank you for being understanding,” he countered, the barest hint of a smile crossing his face.

“No, I mean, I get it,” she let out a breath, taking a seat at her desk. “Some people just don’t, like, get into the season. Not everyone likes Christmas.”

“I like Christmas,” Nico spoke up quickly, hands slipping into his pockets. “It’s just…” He sighed. “It’s hard, sometimes. To get into the, what is it called? Holiday spirit?”

Priya hummed in confirmation, keeping her lips pressed together as she studied Nico’s face. “Do you genuinely want to help?”

“What’s that?” Nico questioned.

“Do you really want to help me out with the party? Like, you don’t just want to apologize and pretend nothing happened. You actually want to plan it together.”

Nico nodded, looking deadly serious, as if the task at hand was a thesis paper and not some office holiday gathering. “Yes. I actually do.”

Ignoring the strange twinge in her chest at his expression, Priya grabbed a sticky note and pen, scrawling down her phone number. “Do you work weekends?”

“No. Sometimes I have practice on Saturdays, but always early in the morning. Otherwise, I’m not busy.”

“Fantastic. Sunday then.” She scribbled down an address, handing over the sticky note. “Meet me there at 10?”

Nico studied the note, nodding firmly. “Okay. I’ll be there.” He smiled, holding out his pinky. “Promise.”

Priya stared at his offered hand for a moment before it clicked. She reached over, linking their pinky fingers together.

Nico gave her one last smile before walking off, still studying the note as he disappeared around the corner.

“Huh,” Priya hummed, shrugging slightly as she went to set up her laptop. It wasn’t until a few minutes had gone by that she realized she was still smiling.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Sunday morning came faster than Priya had expected, and she soon found herself sitting by one of the large windows in Woodland Coffee. The cafe was decked out in holiday cheer - there were stockings hung over the cozy fireplace, paper snowflakes dangling from the ceiling, and soft piano covers of Christmas songs playing over the speakers. Still, Priya’s focus kept drifting back and forth between the front door and her phone, its clock reading 9:59.

Maybe this was all a set up, Priya thought to herself, sighing quietly as she began to scroll Instagram. Maybe he thought it would be funny to get my hopes up again, and then —

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. She glanced up, only to see Nico rushing over to the table, cheeks pink from the cold.

“Hi,” he managed out, catching his breath as he unwound his scarf. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long. There was an accident on the main road, so I had to go around all these back streets, and I’m still not really used to the area —”

“Hey,” Priya interrupted, holding up her hand. “It’s fine. It’s, like, 10:01. You’re not late.”

Nico sighed in relief, smiling as he took off his hat, shaking out his hair. “This place is cute,” he commented, glancing around at all the decorations. “I don’t think I’ve been here before.”

“It’s my go-to,” Priya told him. “They’re a godsend around finals.”

“I’ll bet. What do you usually order?”

“Depends on the time of year. But their peppermint mocha is amazing.”

“Peppermint mocha, got it. Be right back.” Nico smiled, draping his jacket over the back of his chair before heading up to the counter. Priya found herself smiling back, pulling the red folder out of her bag.

Soon enough Nico returned, cautiously carrying two white mugs with red trim. “Here,” he nodded, lowering one of them in front of Priya’s seat. “Peppermint mocha, right?”

Priya’s eyes widened slightly. “I, um, yeah. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Nico shrugged, taking a seat across from her, a soft smile on his face. He took a small sip of his drink, humming to himself.

“Good?” she asked, smiling.

“Mm. Very good,” he nodded. He took another sip before he sat up straighter, going to root through his backpack. “So, um, I did look up a couple things…” Nico pulled out a manila folder, opening it on the table, only for a few dozen clippings to come spilling out. “Or, um, more than a few,” he admitted, cheeks slightly pink.

“Whoa,” Priya let out a laugh, though she met his eyes to make sure he knew it wasn’t a mocking one. “That’s… wow. This’ll be great to work off.”

Nico smiled back, gesturing towards her folder. “But I want to see yours too. I liked some of the pictures you had. The ones with the string lights over the windows?”

“Oh, uh…” Priya flipped through the pages quickly, taking out one to place on the table. “This one, you mean?”

“Yeah, that one,” Nico said. “But I was thinking, maybe we could make them white lights instead? It would look good with whatever colors we used.”

Priya looked over the photo, slowly nodding. “Yeah. I like that. Plus it’s sort of dark in there, from what I can tell, so it might be best to have the brightest ones possible.”

“Speaking of the room. I was looking over some of the photos, and I think…” Nico took out the page he was referring to, pointing to the picture. “We could put the tables downstairs, and maybe use the second floor for something else. I don’t know what, though.”

“I was thinking maybe a photo booth?” Priya suggested, her eyes suddenly lighting up. “Or, oh my god, what if we got one of the managers to dress up as Santa?”

Nico let out a laugh, dimples showing through as he threw his head back. “Yes. We have to,” he insisted, getting out a pen to scribble down the idea. “And we can get Dougie to be an elf, because he’s so tall.”

Priya found herself laughing along with Nico. “I don’t know if there’s a pair of tights in the world that would fit him.”

“Oh, we’ll find some,” Nico grinned cheekily.

The hours flew by quickly after that. By the time the clock struck noon, the two had planned out the decorations, the entertainment, the food and drink, and everything they had to do in the next few weeks to get everything done. In truth, they probably could have wrapped up faster if they’d kept their focus entirely on the party. But Nico kept interjecting with jokes and questions about her, and, well, Priya would be rude if she didn’t respond in kind.

“So I know you like to read and listen to music,” Nico hummed with a smile, drinking from his third mocha of the day. “Do you like any sports?”

“Oh, yeah,” Priya nodded. “Baseball, football and hockey.”

“I love hockey,” Nico grinned.

“Really?” she smiled, taking a sip of her own drink. “Do you play or just watch?”

“Oh, no, I play for my college. I used to play football too.”

“You did? You don’t seem the type,” Priya commented.

“Why — oh, you mean American football. No, um, soccer. They call it football in Switzerland.”

Priya raised her eyebrows. “I never knew you were from Switzerland.”

Nico laughed. “The accent didn’t give it away?”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a Swiss accent before yours,” Priya countered with a smile.

“That’s fair,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “But yes. Born and raised.”

Nico’s face seemed to grow almost forlorn as he spoke, eyes growing distant. Priya’s brow furrowed.

“Do you-”

“So-”

The two of them laughed, Nico shaking his head.

“You go.”

“No, you go,” Priya prompted, taking another sip of her mocha.

“Just… you said that you like to read,” Nico murmured, fidgeting with a stray pen. “If I was… looking for a book, to get for someone. What would you think?”

Priya thought the question over, putting a hand under her chin. “That’s a hard one. It depends on what they’re interested in. Nonfiction, or the classics, or mysteries.”

“What about you?” Nico asked, draining the last of his coffee cup.

“I mean, I’ve always loved Jane Austen,” Priya told him. “Something about her writing just makes me feel… hopeful, I guess. Like love like that can really exist.” She blushed, setting down her cup. “I bet that sounds silly.”

Nico made a noise of disagreement, his dark eyes studying her. “I don’t think it does,” he told her. “I think it’s nice. To think that way.”

Priya smiled shyly, taking a final sip from her mug. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Nico smiled back, glancing down at his phone to check the time. “Oh, wow, it’s the middle of the afternoon. I should get going. But, um —” He stood, pulling on his coat. “You work all day on Tuesday, right?”

“No, Wednesdays and Fridays,” Priya offered, going to pack up her own belongings.

“Okay, Wednesday then. On our lunch break. We can go out and grab some supplies?” Nico offered, putting away his folder. “Ask Dougie if we can steal a company credit card?”

Priya snickered, shaking her head. “I doubt that’ll happen. But, yeah, that sounds fun.” She was surprised at how much she genuinely meant it.

“Great.” Nico tore off a scrap of paper, writing something down and handing it over to Priya. “I’ll come by your desk at noon. Promise,” Nico smiled. He held out his pinky finger. This time, Priya knew to hook it with her own.

“See you then!” Nico called as he left. He stopped right outside, then turned around, waving through the glass doors with a goofy grin.

Priya let out a laugh, waving back at him. As he walked off, she glanced down at the paper, finding a phone number with a smiley face drawn next to it. Though she didn’t know it, her own smile grew to match it.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

“What’s the difference between these?” Nico called, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Priya glanced up from her checklist, rolling the shopping cart over to where Nico was standing. Thankfully the aisles weren’t too full, given it was noon on a weekday. “Between what?”

“These,” he repeated, showing her two boxes of string lights. “They look the same.”

Priya studied the packaging, pointing to the one in Nico’s left hand. “I think this one is more of a warm white, like, tan almost. This one is cooler, almost blue.”

Nico looked between both packages, frowning as he did so. “I still don’t see a difference,” he admitted.

Priya giggled, taking a few boxes of the cooler lights and putting them into the cart, checking off the box on her list. “Okay, so that’s all set… I think all we need is the candy for the dessert table and we’ll be good to go.”

She’d come up with the idea when Jack had approached her, asking if he could bring something to represent Hanukkah to the holiday party. “I’m a horrible cook, but I’ve made jelly donuts a couple times and haven’t burned down the whole kitchen,” Jack had told her with a laugh. Something had clicked, and she’d quickly fired off a message to Nico, asking what he thought. Thankfully, he loved it.

Thus far, they’d had five sign-ups to bring homemade desserts — mini pies, gingerbread bars, peppermint bark fudge, snickerdoodles and Jack’s jelly donuts. Priya had already bought the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, though she wasn’t sure if eight dozen was too few.

She snapped out of her worries when she suddenly recognized Nico humming along to the store radio, making her laugh. “You like Mariah Carey?”

“Hmm? Oh,” Nico laughed sheepishly as they strolled through the store. “Yeah. I’m not a huge fan of Christmas music, but… I like this song. I like that it’s more about wishing for someone rather than something.”

“That’s sweet,” Priya smiled at him, heart fluttering slightly (though she couldn’t quite place why).

She thought over Nico’s words as they walked down the crafts aisle, glancing around at the crayons and construction paper. Suddenly she gasped, stopping in her tracks.

“What?” Nico asked, turning around with a worried expression.

“I just had an idea,” she rushed out, going to grab a pile of forest green construction paper. “What if we made a wishing tree? Like, we made a tree out of construction paper and hung it up on the wall, and we made little paper ornaments. And people could come over and write their holiday wishes on them, and hang them up on the tree?”

Nico froze for a moment, letting out a soft laugh. “You just came up with that?”

“Yeah,” Priya nodded, shoulders lowering as she looked over at him. “I — is it -”

“It’s brilliant,” Nico reassured her, eyes sparkling. “Beyond brilliant. I’m just — I’m surprised you came up with that so fast. But, yes. Definitely. We should.” He went to grab red and white construction paper, along with some colorful markers. “You’re really good at this.”

Priya blushed, shrugging slightly. “I mean, you gave me the idea.”

“I think Mariah Carey came up with it to begin with,” Nico joked, putting their supplies into the cart. “We should send her a thank-you gift.”

Priya laughed, walking alongside Nico as he took over cart-pushing duties. “Speaking of gifts, have you bought all of yours yet? I’m still trying to figure out what to get my parents.”

Nico didn’t reply. Priya looked over, only to see his jaw tightened, the same forlorn expression on his face from when they’d talked about his home at the coffee shop.

“Oh, does — does your family not do gifts?”

“No, they… they do,” Nico told her, voice low. “Just… they’re all back home. My family, I mean. They’re all in Switzerland. So it would… it would take a while for any gifts to get to them.”

“Oh.” Priya stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets. “Well, I mean, you can give them the next time you visit, right? A late gift is still a gift.”

“I don’t know when that will be,” Nico admitted. “Plane tickets are expensive. And there’s still work, and school… it’s hard to find time to talk to anyone back home, let alone go and see them.”

“Yeah,” Priya nodded, biting her inner lip. It makes sense why he wasn’t into planning this, she thought, with everyone far away. “So, um… when you are home, for Christmas. What’s it like? In Switzerland? Is it much different from here?”

“I’ve only celebrated Christmas here once, and it was just with a few friends from the team,” Nico told her with a slight shrug. “But at home, we don’t set up the tree early like you guys do sometimes. The parents decorate it the night before Christmas Eve, and in the morning you come downstairs and see it. They used to tell us the elves did it.” He let out a laugh. “And then we usually have ham and raclette. Like, melty cheese, with potatoes. And my mom will make spitzbuben.”

“Spitzbuben,” she repeated with a slight laugh. “I like that word.”

“It’s like, um… jam cookies,” Nico told her after a moment’s thought. “They’re always so good.”

Priya’s face lit up as she nudged Nico’s arm. “You should make them for the party!”

“Me?” Nico asked, eyes widening. “Oh, no, I — I’m terrible at making food.”

“I can help you out,” she told him. “Ask your mom for the recipe. You can come over when I’m making the chocolate chip ones. Tackle them together.”

Nico’s smile slowly grew as he nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Priya smiled back, her chest hit with that same strange feeling as earlier. Shaking her head slightly to reset herself, she cleared her throat. “So, when do you give the gifts?”

“Oh, um, not… not on actual Christmas,” Nico told her, running a hand through his hair as they approached the food section. “Samichlaus — that’s what we call Santa. He comes on the 6th of December.”

“Really?” Priya asked. She was about to turn down the candy aisle when a realization hit her, making her stop in her tracks.

“Priya?” Nico asked, voice suddenly filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she answered after a moment. “Yeah, I… I’m really sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Nico questioned, hands in his jean pockets. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, I…” she sighed. “December 6th. That was the day we met, right? I mean… when we had our first meeting. About the party.”

Nico nodded slightly, face still reading confusion.

“You — I was so mad because you weren’t paying attention to me,” Priya sighed, guilt pooling in her stomach. “But you… you were probably texting your family, right?”

Nico was silent as she spoke, slowly nodding again. “Yeah. Yeah, my… my family was sending me messages. And some of my friends from back home.”

“God, Nico,” Priya whispered, letting out a sigh. “You could have said something. I would have understood.”

“I thought it was silly,” Nico confessed after a moment. “To be sad about missing something so… childish.”

“It’s not silly if it means something to you,” Priya told him, placing a hand on his upper arm. “I should have asked.”

Nico nodded slightly, meeting her eyes. “I should have said something. Or at least, not been so much of a jerk to you.”

“You weren’t a jerk-”

“No, I was. I didn’t — I took my feelings out on you. I didn’t want to even think about Christmas, and you had all these great ideas, and you were so happy about it… it wasn’t right of me to act how I did. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Priya sighed, slowly lowering her arm to wrap around her waist.

“You don’t have to be,�� Nico told her, this time raising his hand to pat her shoulder. “It’s okay. You’ve done so much. And your ideas are incredible.”

Priya let out a shy laugh. “I try.”

“I’m glad you do,” Nico smiled, patting her shoulder once more before turning back to the cart. “Come on. We can get some candy for the drive home too.”

Priya smiled back. “Well, I mean, if you insist.”

“I do,” Nico grinned, the two of them making their way down the aisle.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Priya tightened her jacket around herself, shivering as she stepped out of the grocery store into the blustery air. When she’d gone shopping for supplies for her and Nico’s baking session, she’d thought a dozen eggs would be enough for the chocolate chip and Swiss Jam cookies. What she hadn’t counted on was burning the first batch of chocolate chip, then struggling with separating the yolk from the white for the spitzbuben, then Nico tripping and dropping two of the eggs onto the kitchen floor.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get them?” Nico had asked, trying to mop up the splattered mess. “I feel bad sending you out into the cold.”

“It’s fine. There’s a store, like, two blocks from here. It won’t take me long,” Priya promised him, giggling internally at the kicked-puppy look of guilt he wore. “Just make sure the ones in the oven now don’t get burnt.”

Now that Priya was thinking it over, it probably wasn’t the smartest idea to leave someone she’d only known for a few weeks alone in her apartment. Particularly not someone who, before they’d started planning together, she’d been sure held some sort of personal vendetta against her. But things had changed. Nico was still quiet at times, but always in a way she could tell was considerate of the world around him. His eyes held the same intensity, but it no longer scared her away. There were still those instances of strange fluttering in her chest from time to time, but Priya refused to focus on those. Not while there was still so much to do before the party.

As Priya pressed the call button to cross the street, she suddenly noticed a collection of bright lights to her left. A row of booths had been set up along the sidewalk in a miniature Christmas market, with a dozen or so shoppers meandering between the string-lit tents. She could see some children stepping away from one with paper cups of hot chocolate and cider.

Priya glanced down at her phone to check the time, shrugging slightly. Though she’d gotten almost all her holiday shopping done, it couldn’t hurt to poke around. Besides, if nothing else, maybe she could bring Nico back some hot drinks to share.

She ducked her head entering the first tent, seeing it filled with fuzzy scarves and gloves. Reaching her free hand up to stroke the fabrics, mindful of her grocery bag, she walked further in, seeing a collection of multicolored, handknit beanies. They reminded her of Nico, she thought with a slight laugh. He’d worn the same black winter hat every time she’d seen him the past month.

Maybe he could use a new one, she thought. Would he like the red, or —

Priya paused in surprise at herself, pulling her hand back from the display. She hadn’t been planning on buying Nico a gift. They weren’t close like that — or were they now? They’d spent almost every day together since their shopping trip, sitting at the same lunch table and working on crafting the wish tree display. But that was just because of the party, wasn’t it? Once it had passed, they wouldn’t be attached to each other like they were now. Then again, more often than not their conversations had drifted away from planning, to music and sports and funny stories from each others’ pasts. She didn’t want that part to end. She — she liked Nico.

Biting her lip, head still spinning from the revelation, Priya turned away from the hat display, instead studying a glass display table of different jewelry. Her eyes scanned over the different earrings and bracelets, only to stop once they caught sight of a necklace. Hanging from black cord was a small gold-colored coin, two intertwining flowers etched into the metal.

“You like it?”

Priya’s head jerked up, only to meet a smiling older woman in a purple headscarf. “It’s edelweiss.”

“Edelweiss?” Priya repeated, eyes returning to the necklace.

“Yes. A flower that grows in the Alps,” the woman told her. “Very popular in those countries. Austria, Romania, Switzerland.”

Priya’s heart jolted in her chest, studying the coin, the way the flowers’ stems wrapped around one another.

“How — how much?”

A few minutes later, Priya carefully opened the front door of her apartment, two large cups of hot chocolate in hand.

“There you are,” Nico sighed, relief clear on his face as he made his way to the front door. “I was about to call you. Did you get caught up in something?”

“Just thought I’d stop for these,” Priya shrugged, handing over one of the cups to him.

“Oh, wow. Thanks,” Nico smiled at her, his dimples clear as he took the grocery bag as well. “You’re the best.”

Priya let out a shy laugh. She glanced up towards Nico, watching as he walked back into the kitchen and ran a hand through his dark hair. He really is handsome, she thought. And sweet. And passionate. And —

“Priya?” Nico called, making her snap out of her thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yep! Yeah, sorry. Give me one second,” she smiled over at him. She turned to hang up her coat by the door, taking just a moment to reach into her pocket, running her fingers over the small crimson gift box.

Not tonight, she thought. But soon. Probably. Maybe.

Taking a deep breath, Priya turned back towards Nico, smiling wide. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

The date of the Christmas party finally arrived. Priya had spent most of the day setting up the ballroom with Nico, securing the decorations and making sure the caterers had everything they needed. A few times she’d glanced over at Nico, a confession she wasn’t sure how to phrase on the top of her tongue, but she’d always swallowed it back. If she was going to completely embarrass herself in front of a cute boy, she was going to do it right.

After a well-deserved nap, Priya had gotten to work preparing herself for the party. Instead of her usual uniform of sweatpants and a hoodie, she’d decided on one of her nicest outfits: a knee-length, deep green sparkly dress with long sleeves, paired with silver flats. She’d done her hair in a low bun, securing it with a velvet green bow, romantic tresses framing her face. She kept her makeup basic, but made sure to use her favorite red lipstick, double checking to make sure none had gotten on her teeth.

Priya did a spin in front of her bedroom mirror, smiling at herself. It wasn’t too often she got a chance to dress up — a fact she was largely grateful for — but it was still fun when the moment came.

Grabbing her handbag, her eyes drifted over to the burgundy jewelry box, still sitting atop her dresser. Was it even a good idea to give it? Would it be overstepping? What if he thought it was cheesy? What if it made him miss home even more? What if —

A knock on the door made Priya’s head jolt up, brow furrowed. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. Before she could think better of it, she grabbed the box, shoving it into her bag.

“Coming!” she called, making her way down the hallway to open the front door.

Standing there, in a deep red shirt and black tie, was Nico. “Hi,” he managed out, his voice sounding shyer than Priya could ever remember it.

“Hi,” Priya responded, her voice soft to match his.

Nico looked Priya up and down, his cheeks pale pink. “You, um… you look beautiful.”

Priya’s own cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” she smiled shyly. “You look nice too. Very handsome.”

“Thanks.” Nico bit his lip, moving his hands from behind his back, handing out a bouquet of white and red flowers. “I… these are for you.”

Priya felt her heart leap as she took the bouquet, inhaling the sweet aroma. “Garden roses,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. “I love them. How did you know?”

“I, um, I might’ve asked Jack,” Nico admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just… you’ve been so great with everything, and… I wanted to thank you.”

Priya smiled, stepping forward to pull Nico into a hug. She could feel him tense in surprise for a moment, only to wrap his arms around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder. He smelled like warmth, and cinnamon, and the slightest bit of pine. She could already imagine herself getting addicted.

“Thank you,” Priya murmured into his shirt, closing her eyes for a moment. “You’re… you’re wonderful. Really.”

“I try,” Nico let out a soft laugh.

After a few seconds too long, Priya forced herself to pull away, shyly laughing. “I’ll, um, I’ll go put these in water.”

“Yeah,” Nico nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, no worries.”

Priya had gotten only a few steps away when a thought hit her, making her turn to face him. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you’d be at the party.”

“I am. I mean, I’m going. I just thought, maybe I could drive you. If you don’t have other plans.”

Priya smiled softly. “Yeah. Yeah, no, I’d love that.” She put the flowers onto the kitchen counter, making her way back to the doorway. “Jack said he’d drive me home, but I’ll just tell him to meet me there.”

“You sure?” Nico raised his eyebrows worriedly. “You don’t have to. I mean — I should have asked you first —”

“Nico. It’s fine,” Priya reassured him. “I want to go with you.”

Nico’s smile practically lit up her insides as he nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He offered his arm, putting on a slightly goofy formal voice. “Shall we, my lady?”

“We shall, good sir,” she giggled, taking his arm as they made their way outside.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Even though she’d spent most of the day setting up for the party, Priya still found herself unprepared by how beautiful the ballroom had ended up. From her spot on the second floor balcony, she could watch the string lights glow, illuminating the smiling faces of the people below. She spied one of the tech heads, Miles, dressed up in a full Santa suit, taking photos with the marketing team. The playlist she and Nico had crafted was playing softly through the speakers, adding a pleasant hum to the whole scene. Somehow, everything had worked out.

Priya gazed over the crowd, only for her eyes to stop on a familiar face. Nico smiled at her from his place near the dessert table, motioning her down. She grinned back, nodding quickly as she made her way downstairs, carefully maneuvering around the guests.

“Hey,” she smiled, nudging Nico with her elbow.

“Hey.” Nico let out a soft sigh, glancing around at the crowd. “We pulled it off.”

“I know,” Priya sighed with him. “Is it weird to say I’m proud of us?”

Nico glanced over, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t think it’s weird. Not at all.”

Priya’s eyes softened as she nudged him again. “Then I am. I’m proud of us. And you.”

“Me?” Nico laughed in disbelief.

“Yeah, you. I know it wasn’t the easiest thing for you, but… you really stepped up. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“Well, I couldn’t have even gotten started without you,” Nico pointed out. “So. I’m proud of you, too.”

Their eyes met, the rest of the world seeming a distant blur.

“Nico-”

“Hey-”

They both laughed.

“You first,” Nico gestured towards her.

“No, no, it’s fine. You go,” she nodded.

“Just, I have to head out pretty soon,” Nico admitted, scratching the back of his head.

Priya frowned slightly. “Oh. Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, no, stay and have fun. You’ve earned it,” Nico assured her, patting her shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know. Jack said he could drive you back, right? So you won’t be walking in the cold?”

“Yeah,” Priya nodded after a moment. “Yeah, no, I’ll just have to go find him.”

“Okay.” Nico smiled. A few seconds of silence passed between them. Priya bit her cheek, feeling her heart begin to pound in her chest.

Without warning, Nico stepped forward, pulling her into a tight hug. Priya closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around him, letting out a deep sigh.

Eventually they pulled apart, Nico’s smile seeming to have a tinge of melancholy to it. “See you around,” he nodded.

“I — yeah. See you around,” she forced out, managing a smile. Priya let herself watch for just a moment as Nico made his way through the crowd. Then, straightening her shoulders, she turned around, beginning to search the room for Jack.

She found him not too far away, chatting with Dougie. “Hey, Prius!” Jack grinned, pulling her into a hug. “Did you have one of the donuts yet?”

“Not yet,” Priya admitted, laughing as she pulled apart. “But soon.”

“Amazing job with the party, Priya,” Dougie nodded.

Priya shrugged modestly. “It would’ve been better if we could have found you an elf costume that fit.”

“Wasn’t meant to be,” Dougie laughed, Jack chuckling along with him. “You know, I have to say, I wasn’t sure at first when Nico came to me asking to work with you. But you guys really came together.”

Priya’s eyes widened slightly. “He what?”

“Didn’t he tell you?” Dougie’s brow furrowed. “He came to me begging for me to put you on party planning with him. I knew you could handle it, but I always thought you two didn’t get along.”

“We didn’t,” Priya managed out, voice hitching. “Can you, um… will you excuse me a sec?”

Without waiting for an answer, Priya walked away, her head spinning. This whole time, she’d thought that she and Nico had been thrown together by some twist of fate, or that Dougie had wanted to minimize the tension between them. Nico had really asked for her? Why?

Priya was drawn out of her thoughts just enough to stare at the wishing tree she and Nico had assembled. It wasn’t too full yet, with only a few red and white baubles attached to the construction paper tree. Almost instantly, though, her eyes were drawn towards one particular ornament, with handwriting that felt all too familiar.

I wish I could tell her how I really feel.

Her heart stopped in her chest. Everything seemed to stop; the world became a blur. Before another thought crossed her mind, Priya found herself rushing out of the ballroom, hurrying as fast as she could towards the parking lot. Thankfully, there was still a figure standing outside of his car, wearing a familiar black winter hat.

“Nico!” Priya cried, running towards him. “Nico, wait!”

Nico turned around, brows drawn tightly together as he noticed her. “Priya? What are you doing out here? Can Jack not-”

“Be… be quiet for a second,” Priya told him, catching her breath as she finally approached the car.

“Priya, I don’t -”

“What did your wish mean?”

Nico’s brow furrowed further. “What wish?”

“The one you wrote on the tree,” Priya clarified, crossing her arms. “You said… you said you wish you could tell someone how you really feel. What does that mean?”

Nico’s eyes widened, a guilty expression taking over his face. “That — I — I didn’t think you would know that was mine.”

“I know your handwriting by now,” Priya pointed out.

There was a beat of silence before she sighed.

“I don’t — I don’t get it. You hate me. Or you — you did hate me. Why-”

“I never hated you,” Nico murmured.

“Then why did you always stare me down? Why wouldn’t you just talk to me?”

He let out a soft sigh, staring down at the pavement. “I was scared,” he confessed. “You were so… so beautiful, and smart. And you just… you lit up the room every time you walked in. And I was just this… this boy who barely spoke English, and I was so afraid of saying the wrong thing.”

Priya’s face softened, her arms drifting down to her side. “Is that why you asked Dougie to work with me?”

Nico winced for a moment at having been found out, but slowly nodded. “I thought… it would be an excuse to get to know you better. And to spend more time with you. And I messed it up, because I was too in my own head. But you gave me a second chance, and…” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced up to meet her eyes, his own dark and anxiety-filled. “I know it… it sounds foolish. But I thought…”

“Nico,” Priya whispered, stepping forward. Biting her lip, she quickly rustled through her bag, handing over the jewelry box.

Nico’s brow furrowed. “What… what is this?”

“It’s for you. For Christmas.”

Nico slowly removed the lid, carefully removing the necklace. “Edelweiss,” he whispered in awe, turning to look at her.

“I got it a few days ago,” Priya confessed, her cheeks pink. “I just… I thought of you. And I thought of… how sweet you are, and how supportive you’ve been, and how easy it is for you to make me laugh. And I-”

“Priya.”

Nico stepped forward, slowly closing the gap between them. Priya’s heart raced as he reached his hand up to cup her cheek. “Priya,” he repeated softly, before leaning in, closing the gap between their lips.

Priya felt her chest burst open, moving to wrap her arms around his neck. She’d never imagined a kiss in a freezing cold parking lot could feel so perfect.

Nico was smiling when he finally pulled away, his eyes sparkling. “Wow,” he let out a short laugh.

“Wow,” Priya repeated, a giggle rising in her throat.

Nico leaned in once again, only to be interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. “Damnit,” he cursed, quickly pulling it out. “That’ll be Jonas.”

“Jonas?” she asked, hands still on his shoulders.

“My friend from Switzerland,” he told her. “I… after we talked about it, I went online and got a flight home. I’m leaving tonight.”

“Oh,” Priya gasped, her eyes wide. She pulled her hands away, shoving at him gently. “Oh my god, then, go, go! Don’t miss your flight!”

“Wait, wait,” Nico laughed, grabbing at her hands to hold them. “I have something for you first.”

“What?” Priya asked, a wide smile still on her face.

“One second.” Nico quickly turned around, opening the back door of his car, pulling out a box wrapped in royal blue paper. “For you,” he offered with a smile.

“Nico,” Priya grinned. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to,” Nico countered. “Besides, you got me something.”

“But that was just something small, and you already got me flowers-”

“You’re going to make me miss my flight,” Nico teased, smirking.

Sighing, Priya carefully removed the paper, only to let out a gasp. “Is this… you got me the entire Jane Austen collection?”

“I noticed you didn’t have any on your shelves at your apartment,” he shrugged sheepishly. “And I… I got a set for myself too. Not as nice as those, but I thought… Maybe we could read them together. See what gives you, what was it… hope? For love?”

Priya’s heart fluttered as she placed the books on the hood of Nico’s car, throwing her arms around him again. “I love them. Thank you so much,” she whispered.

“Of course. And thank you. For everything,” Nico whispered back, turning his face so he could kiss her cheek.

The sound of a phone buzzing made them both groan, though they giggled as they pulled apart.

“I really should get going,” Nico sighed, handing Priya back her book collection. “I fly back on the 2nd of January. Can we — can we talk then, maybe?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Priya smiled. “And I have your phone number, so I can FaceTime you. If you want.”

“I’ll always want to see you,” Nico admitted, smiling shyly.

Priya pulled Nico into another kiss, her hand venturing up to stroke a thumb over his cheek. “January 2nd,” she whispered as she pulled apart.

“January 2nd,” he nodded, holding out his pinky finger. She quickly looped hers with his, cheeks flushing red as he leaned down to kiss her knuckles.

“I’ll see you then,” Nico smiled. “Merry Christmas, Priya.”

“Merry Christmas, Nico.”

One more hug, one more kiss, and then he was off, car disappearing into the night.

Priya watched him go, feeling warmer than she’d ever felt. Quickly she took out her phone, moving towards her calendar app. Eleven days, she thought. I can make it that long.

Slipping her phone back into her bag, Priya let out a blissful sigh. She glanced down at the books in her hand, stroking a finger over the spines, before she began to make her way back towards the ballroom.

I guess I was right, she thought with a smile. Miracles really do happen all the time.

#the winter fic exchange 2k23 #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #nico hischier fic #my writing #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction

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zepskies · 5 months

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Hey Zep!

I love your writing, especially been enjoying the Soldier Boy series stuff and the latest with Smoke Eater!

(Btw are you taking inspiration from One Chicago (Fire, PD, Med) with it? If so kudos and I love it, big fans of those series myself 😊)

Anyway! I’ve really been enjoying your works, been pouring through them and the stuff you have on AO3. I also thought your tips for writing were super helpful!

I’m back to writing myself after a long ass break, but always struggle keeping inspiration so a lot of my work sometimes goes unfinished. I’d like to ask how you keep motivated and continue a fic even if sometimes you’re not into it? Do you have any tips or tricks?

Thank you and again, love your work!

Hey there, lovely!! ❤️

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked Break Me Down and are enjoying Smoke Eater too! ❤️‍🔥

(Oh yes, indeed I am! 😊 I love all things Law & Order and One Chicago. I based firefighter!Dean on Lt. Matt Casey in Chicago Fire, with a little Severide flair lol.)

Thank you again for reading my work, both here and on Ao3!! I'm also glad that my writing tips have been helpful to you in any way. I came back to Tumblr and writing in general after about a year break myself, so I feel you there.

I absolutely LOVE your question though...

Because it's something I still battle with myself. I think all of us writers and artists struggle to stay motivated, no matter how much we love our craft. I do, however, have a few tips that help me immensely.

5 Tips to Stay Motivated to Write:

Be organized. Create a realistic, attainable schedule. ✍️

My brain works in checklists, bullet points, very methodical. I can't write chapter five before chapter 1. I can't write a series (even a mini series or a long one-shot) without outlining first.

So my first step is creating a schedule for myself: from sketching the premise, to bullet points/outlining, to actually sitting down to draft, to then editing. When I'm working on a series, I write the first 3 to 5 chapters before starting post it.

This means I have a head start. I commit to writing a chapter per week after that until the series is done. This give me lots of time and wiggle room for editing before posting each chapter afterwards. For example, I wrote the first 5 chapters of Smoke Eater before I started to post. I'm now in the middle of drafting Part 19 out of 20 even though I just posted Part 11.

Now, this doesn't mean I don't slack off lol. If I don't follow these steps I lose my discipline. I can get lazy. (We won't talk about And So It Goes. 😅 I've been sitting on writing the last 5 chapters for a painfully long time.)

But I have other tips that help me get my head back into the game.

2. Revisit the thing that gave you inspiration in the first place! 🍿

Rewatch, reread, revisit the episode, movie, book, story, artwork that stroked your muse and had you daydreaming and brainstorming about the WIP you're working on. That can be a good way to revitalize you when you feel your motivation lacking.

3. Create a music playlist. 🎶

I love doing this, especially for a series. I often create a playlist of songs that remind me of the setting, the characters, the romance I'm trying to create. Whether it's the words or the tone/rhythm that get me going, music inspires me greatly.

(For Break Me Down, for example, I listened to songs like "All My Living Time" by Radio Company for the vibe of the plot, and oldies like "If I Didn't Care" and "You're Getting to Be a Habit With Me" by Mel Torme for nostalgic 40s vibes/the romance.)

4. Go for a walk. ☀️

I walk for exercise, but it also gives me time to daydream and run scenes in my head while vibing to my music (sometimes looking like a crazy person as I nod and make hand motions lmao). This helps me clear my head, get some fresh air, then come back to my laptop with a little more pep in my brain, ready to write.

5. Encouragement and feedback from others. 💞

This really helps, of course. Whether it's someone you trust to read over your work, or seeing how people react to your initial chapters after you post them. Both can be very motivating to keep going, at least for me!

And I'll be transparent, I've gotten a bit fatigued while writing the back half of Smoke Eater. I have a lot going on at work and my personal life at the moment. But seeing how people have been commenting and giving feedback on each chapter -- the mystery, the connection between Dean and the reader, the various storylines happening -- it's been incredibly motivating for me to read those back and remember that people are enjoying what I'm coming up with. It helps give me the push I need to get the rough draft out.

And a rough draft doesn't have to be perfect on the first try. That's why it's rough. I call it the "throw up draft." Just get it on the page. The editing process is where I truly find the nuance in the dialogue, refine the plot, exposition, etc.

Anyway. I'm long-winded again, as usual. 😂

I hope this helps you! If you have any other writing questions just let me know. I love talking about this stuff! 💕

#ask me stuff #reader appreciation #writing is hard #writing tips #staying motivated #tips for writers #support writers #support artists #smoke eater #break me down #dean winchester #soldier boy #spn #the boys #zepskies answers

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hyunfilms · 10 months

Text

blue side of the sky (lmh) | five.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 5.3k

—chapter warning: cussing, jisung being his worried and overprotective self, small argument between minho & jisung, another deep look into minho's feelings about everything, minho dance session which should be a warning itself, smut but not super descriptive smut (implied oral - m. receiving, doggy style), also a look into minho and kat, flashback scene at the end highlighting a core, painful moment for minho, crying, oc is in a coma during flashback

"Hi." You answer the phone call coming in as you make your way to your first pottery class.

"Cielo! Are you at class now?" You chuckle.

"About to be."

"You didn't answer my text." You can hear the pout through Jisung's tone.

"Sorry, pachi. I was gonna get to it as soon as I got inside the store. What's up?"

"I asked if you found anything to wear yet. For Yuna's?"

"Oh, no."

"Wanna go look after class? I'll meet you."

"I'm, um—" You pause a bit as you enter the store and greet the boy re-stocking items at the front.

"You're.. what?"

"I'm actually hanging out with San afterwards. He said he'd go with me to check out some dresses."

"You're.. hanging out with San?"

"Yes?" You let out a small sigh due to the unexpected response from your bestfriend. You felt nervous, and even more scared. Maybe you shouldn't have agreed to hang out with San. "Pachi, you told me to go for it. Should I just cancel and go with you—"

"No, no. I know I said that. I'm sorry, cielo. I didn't mean it in a bad way. I'm glad you're hanging out with him and stuff! Seriously. I just didn't expect that day to be today."

"I don't exactly have much time to find a dress."

"Yeah, I know. You'll find something and you'll look great in it, though! Is he gonna meet you after class?"

"Mhm."

"Okay, good. Well, enjoy yourself, okay? Don't think too much and just go with the flow."

"I know, I know."

"Well wait, let me back track." Jisung lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry. Are you ready to hang out with him? I hope I didn't pressure you too much."

"No it's not that. I think I'm ready. I mean, it's casual and super harmless, right?"

"Of course. He seems cool. But if he does try anything that you aren't ready for, just call me."

"I'll be fine. Thanks, Ji."

"Alright. Send pics of what you find!"

"I will." Your bottom lip pokes out as you end the call and tuck your phone back into your bag. This morning, you felt your confidence growing. You had been confident enough to agree to a hang out with San, even though he reassured you that there was no pressure. But the call with Jisung had you second-guessing everything.

Were you really ready for this?

You know Jisung meant no harm behind anything he said, but it was hard for you to not overthink. The only thing getting you by is the reminder that you have to experience these things to continue learning and settling back into the world; to continue living.

You couldn't be stuck in one place forever.

"Are you okay, miss?" You look over to your right and see the same boy from the front stocking up some of the shelves near the pottery classroom. You hadn't realized you zoned out and stopped in your tracks before entering the room.

"Oh. Yeah, I am." You chuckle shyly. "Sorry. Was lost in thought."

"No worries, just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Thank you." You give him a small smile before finally entering the classroom. It's only supposed to be for 6 people, and you only see one other person already sitting at a wheel. You take the seat opposite from her, giving her a small smile when she glances up to look at you. She returns the smile, but her attention shifts back to her phone.

It doesn't take long before the rest of the wheels are filled and class is starting. You feel incredibly shy, but everyone in your class seems to be down to earth and just as eager to get their hands dirty. At first, you feel shy. You're barely working on the clay as much as the others are, but you remind yourself that you work at your own pace. When it's time to throw, it's a bit of a struggle before you finally find your own rhythm; receiving small praises from your instructor as she comes to your aid every now and then.

You're making a basic pot. Something to start off with, something easy.

It's fun.

You're happy you decided to move forward with class, paying some money for a membership to use the classroom during open hours. Class takes an hour and a half today, but the classroom remains open for anyone who is interested in doing another piece before the kiln gets loaded in a class or two. You wish you could, but as soon as you let your pot sit on the rack to completely dry, you catch wind of San walking around nearby aisles. He sees you looking over and he waves, a huge smile plastered on his face while you continue to clean up your space. When you've finally gotten through the last items and tidied up, you quickly wash your hands and grab your things to meet San in the store.

"Hey!" He waves enthusiastically. "How was class?" He digs his hands into his pocket while he waits for your response.

"It was good! Fun to get back into it." San nods.

"I'm glad. It's always satisfying to get back into things you've enjoyed." He nods towards the entrance. "It's beautiful outside. Ready to shop for dresses? You can tell me more about class while we walk."

"Sure." You chuckle. "What have you been up to today?"

"Well, I started off my day super early. Went to the gym before work. Got lots of things done. Now I'm here." He gives you a small smile. Over the course of texting San, you find out a few key details about him:

One, he has a younger sister and a cat that he adores. He's very family-oriented and takes everything family-related very seriously. He met JJ and their friend group in college, and they've stayed close ever since then. He also adores his friends to bits; it's quite cute. He says their personalities are all different, but they mesh so well.

Two, he was the definition of someone who took every single opportunity [especially in college] and ran with it. He aced his classes, participated in campus-wide activities and student government, volunteered, took internship after internship— that being what lead him to a huge opportunity overseas right after graduation to learn side by side from a principal architect. Years of doing so led him to a full-time position with their office back here at home.

Three, he is handsome, and he is incredibly sweet. He's laid back and caring; it's very easy to see why he gets along with people.

It's easy to talk to him.

So easy, that time flies by when you're with him. After a long, ongoing conversation about how the days have been, you've already popped into a few shops; slowly pulling hangers apart from each other to get a better view of the dresses— no particular dress catching your eyes just yet.

You eventually do find two dresses in the back of a new store you popped into that look fantastic on the mannequin, however, you feel like it'll be a different story when you try it on. Jisung says the wedding is at a hotel near the oceanside two hours away. The colors are hues of sage, green, browns and pale golds, and you're already excited to see how everything will turn out.

One dress is a taupe satin dress with a high slit, spaghetti straps and a cowl neck-line. The other is a sage satin dress with an asymmetrical high slit. They're almost similar in style— you're just not sure which color [or fit] would look better on you. San can tell you're unsure as you look at both dresses side by side, hands trailing down the fabric.

"Those are really pretty. You should try them on. You'll look great in either of those." San smiles.

"They're not too.. simple?" San shrugs.

"No. I think they're perfect for the wedding." You give him a small smile and nod, walking off to dressing room. San finds a little cushion to sit and wait on, scrolling through his phone while he patiently waits for you to be ready. He's not expecting you to show him the dresses, and quite frankly, he hopes he didn't come off that way. He does believe you'll look good in whatever option you choose, and his opinion doesn't matter much at the end of the day— it's truly whatever you feel good and comfortable in. Of course, San thinks you're gorgeous. He really couldn't help himself that day he walked into the café and saw you. Of course, his end goal would be to take you on a date and see where thing goes. But, the thing about San is that he knows about your accident. He knows the overall gist of things that have happened, but he doesn't know the fine details like your friends or JJ might know. It's not his business anyway, and he'd rather not go back to that moment in your life. So, he doesn't ask. He'll let you open up to him about it once [and if] you're ready. But, he knows. And he knows this isn't a priority for you right now, which is completely understandable.

If things happen, things happen. If it takes time, it takes time. Until then, he will continue to get to know you and be a friend.

"San?" San is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears you softly call his name behind the dressing room door.

"Yeah? You okay?"

"Yeah, I just.. is it okay if I show you the first dress?"

"Of course, whatever you're comfortable with, Y/N."

"I just need you to see them and give me your honest opinion, okay?"

"Always." He hears the door handle jiggle before you swing the door open. You've tried on the taupe dress and you shyly come forward, hands fidgeting with the fabric of the dress. San sits up a bit as his eyes light up, nodding in acknowledgement with a small smile. "That color looks great on you."

"Is the dress okay? It feels a little too much." You fiddle with your fingers. "I feel like I can't comfortably move with how high this slit goes."

"The angle too, hm?" He nods. "It looks great, but if you're not comfortable, then maybe the next dress will feel better?" You nod.

"Yeah, maybe."

"It's fine Y/N, don't force yourself if you aren't 100% on it." You give him a small smile before walking back into the dressing room to try on the other dress. You also aren't expecting much with this dress, but as soon as you slip it on, you smile at yourself in the mirror and take it in for a moment.

It feels perfect.

The slit is also pretty high, but it's not asymmetrical and at a weird angle so you can still move around comfortably. It fits nicely on your body, your figure, and the fabric isn't too heavy. Taupe color is beautiful under the light, and it's easy to pair.

"I really like this one." You say softly and San lets out a small chuckle.

"That's good. I'm glad you do." He watches as you walk out and nods in agreement when he sees how much more relaxed you look in the dress. "You look beautiful. That dress is the one!" You shyly chuckle at him.

"Yeah, I think it is, too."

"Are you set on it, or do you still wanna look some more?"

"No, I'm pretty set on this." San stands with a smile.

"Nice, it's perfect. We can go eat somewhere after, if you'd like?"

"Oh yes, please. I'm starving. I'm sorry I dragged you along on this." You say as you shut the door and start to get changed.

"No, don't apologize. I meant it when I said I didn't mind. I'm happy to accompany you." San scratches at his temple and nervously laughs. "I honestly thought we'd take much longer, so I'm a little relieved we can eat now." You laugh and gather your things, handing the other dress to the staff member before walking to the cashier.

Afterwards, San takes you to a bbq spot out of the central downtown area, roughly a 15 minute drive out. You get seated pretty quickly even though the restaurant is becoming packed by the minute. It's not too loud, but it is bustling; with busy workers and people engaging in fun conversation over beer and soju. In the middle of grilling the meat and telling you his Spain experience, you get a call from Jisung— the constant vibration on the table pulling you away from San's story.

"Sorry. It's Jisung." San chuckles and shakes his head, placing a few pieces of samgyeopsal onto your plate.

"No, please. Go for it." You give him a small apologetic smile before picking up the call. Jisung is at home, bored out of his mind and a bit worried. He knew he needed to give you time to do your thing, but as dinner time was approaching, he couldn't help but check in. He just needed to know that you were okay and at least enjoying yourself.

"Pachi."

"Hi, sorry." He says. "I didn't hear from you for awhile so I just wanted to call." You chuckle a bit.

"I'm okay."

"Yeah? That's good to hear." He furrows his brows at the background noise. "It's kinda.. loud? Where are you?"

"Eating with San."

"Oh, okay. Did you find a dress?"

"Sure did. Oops, I'll send pictures to you after." You did remember to snap a few photos of the dresses you tried on earlier.

"No worries. It's not too crazy there, right?"

"No. I'll be okay. We'll be done soon."

"Okay. Please text me when you get home."

"I will."

"Love you."

"Love you too." You softly set the phone down and look at San. "I really am sorry about him."

"No, it's okay." San shrugs. "I get it. He's your bestfriend and he cares about you alot."

"Too much sometimes." You tease, though you try to hint at the fact that you are very grateful for Jisung no matter what.

Meanwhile, Jisung finds himself getting hungrier by the minute, finalizing his delivery order that shouldn't arrive too long from now. He's home alone while his roommates are all out, so he tries to pick up where he left off in God of War: Ragnarok to make time fly by. The delivery food actually comes a half hour later, with Jisung shutting off the game before darting down the stairs to grab his food. Just as he's bringing it in, he sees Minho pull up and park— leaving the door slightly ajar for when he walks in.

"Yo." Jisung quickly looks over his shoulder as he continues to unbox his delivery food, quickly greeting Minho as he walks into the kitchen. "Surprised you're home early."

"Surprised you're home since you're usually taking all the food at Y/N's and Uncle Adrian's."

"That's not true at all and you know it." Jisung looks at Minho while he chuckles at him and grabs a glass for some water. "Seriously, why are you home early?"

"I just wanted to come home early and not do something for once. Catch up on sleep. Be lazy."

"We can play, if you want?"

"Eh." Minho shrugs after drinking some water. "Maybe later."

"I'm also surprised—" Jisung shakes his head. "Nevermind."

"Say it."

"No, you'll kill me and Y/N isn't around to save me."

"What, she's still in class?" Minho asks with a chuckle, confused at how long your pottery class actually was.

"No, she's out shopping for a dress."

"Alone? Shouldn't someone be with her if she's gonna be out for a bit?"

"Someone is with her." Jisung mumbles as he pours some of his soup appetizer into a bowl.

"And it's not you?" Jisung shakes his head. "Chan?" Jisung shakes his head again. "Seungmin? Why on earth would you leave her with Seungmin, though?"

"I didn't leave her with Seungmin. I didn't leave her anywhere, she just had other plans." Jisung grabs his food and tries to head up to his room. Which, he successfully does, but Minho is following closely behind. "Gonna watch some streams since you don't wanna play, see ya—" Minho kicks his foot out to stop his door from closing.

"Why are you acting so weird?" Minho nods at him and furrows his brows. "You're the one who told me to stop being weird when it comes to Y/N, you little hypocrite."

"I'm not being weird!"

"You are!"

"She's in good hands, alright? It's fine."

"She's with San, isn't she?"

"I never even said anything. "

"See, you're being fucking weird for no reason."

"Well, I don't know? It's kinda weird to tell you!"

"This was your idea in the first place, remember?" Minho sighs and crosses his arms. "I just wanted to know if she was okay. Besides, how do you know if she's in good hands with San? He doesn't even know anything about her like that."

"You really think JJ wouldn't have said anything to him?"

"I don't think so?"

"He's one of JJ's really good friends, I think he might know some portion of it."

"Then, he's not any better than you and I, is he?" Minho cocks his head to the side and looks at him.

"Please don't do that." Jisung sighs. "She's fine, okay? He seems cool. I think we can give him a little more than that."

"What's your plan behind this one?"

"Don't even say it like that, dude. For real." Jisung's brow is slightly furrowed, though this is something he fully expects from Minho. "I just thought it'd be cool for her to hang out with other people too. It doesn't hurt."

"Hm." Minho hums as he turns on his heel and walks towards his room.

"Where are you going?"

"Change of plans. Gonna head to the studio and work on some stuff."

"Wait, you're not upset, are you?" Jisung pouts a bit. He really didn't mean to make Minho upset even though he knows you're still a very sensitive subject to him. Plus, Jisung doesn't want this to spiral out of control. He'll give you some time, but he will tell you everything. He will.

"Upset?" Minho slings his bag over his shoulder and gives him a tiny pursed smile. "No. Can't be." There's a drip of sarcasm in his tone because of course he can't be. There's so many truths, feelings, opinions, clinging onto that statement alone. He's trying to convince himself that he can't be, but also, he knows this is the response he'd immediately get from everyone around him. And he hates that.

Because no matter what, they will never understand you two. They will never understand the thoughts, the feelings, that occupy his mind day in and day out— especially since the accident happened.

He feels.

No one seems to know that.

But to simply answer Jisung's question, yes. He is upset. He really hopes you're okay and that San is taking care of you. It's the least he can fucking do after charming you the way he did. He's upset because of many other things, he's upset because he finds himself dwelling on the past much longer than he needs to. He finds himself sinking into all the 'what if's' — finding it hard to focus on his present, to look forward to his future.

He's constantly sinking, with nothing in reach.

He heads to the studio just like he tells Jisung, but he doesn't have class. There's nothing scheduled at the studio, so there shouldn't be anyone around.

It's fine.

That's what he needs right now, anyway. Space to do his own thing, space to dance out all the frustrations. Space to shake off all this shit.

When he gets to the studio, he parks his car and unlocks the door with his own key; tossing his bag off to the side as he steps into the room. He instantly connects his phone to the speakers, blasting his more upbeat playlist throughout the room. He stretches as the mirrors vibrate to the beat of the song currently playing, lights dim and barely illuminating the space.

He lets everything go.

He just needs to, momentarily.

He lets the vibration sink through his body, letting it flow through in waves— just like with everything that's been happening. It's the only way he's been able to process. He has some choreography he needs to finish up before next class but that's the last thing on his mind right now.

The first wave, Minho felt numb. He couldn't believe how everything happened so quickly. You were just in front of him— only to be snatched away hours later. He wasn't sure what to do, how to gain power to change time, didn't know what life would be like with you. It was all too much to process knowing you were almost taken from him completely.

The second wave, Minho was angry, upset, frustrated; all the time. He had no outlet, and as fucked up as it sounds, this is how he brought Kat closer. He felt empty, he felt angry with himself, he felt like he needed some validation. Something to tell him he wasn't entirely at fault, that he was still a person who could be needed, wanted; that he wasn't a bad person although he did need to take ownership for some things at some point.

The third wave that he's currently riding, Minho has nothing else to give. Nothing else to process. He feels useless, powerless— he can't change time or bring anything back. There is simply nothing there and he doesn't know how to work with that in order to move forward. What can he change, how can he do better, when no one believes he can change and do better for you? No one wants to give him that. And quite frankly, they're slowly convincing him that he can't even give himself that.

Maybe it'll go back to the first wave and he'll go back to being numb. But Minho doesn't know what's worse— being numb because it's too much to process, or being numb because there is nothing else to process; nothing else to change, nothing to hang onto.

He doesn't know if he'll ever bounce back from this.

Minho is so into his thoughts as he dances without a strict choreo in mind, sweat dripping down his face as he takes a moment to catch his breath. He sits with his back against the mirror, regulating his breathing after consistently moving his body. He takes a quick sip of water, eyes darting to his phone lighting up on the counter. The vibration is cutting through the music, making Minho groan in annoyance at the interruption.

kat: roommates are gone

kat: lonely af

kat: can you come over? )):

He thinks about this, and to be honest, he still feels pretty shitty. It's a terrible excuse, but who else can he run to right now? Kat makes him feel good. Kat makes him feel better, at least, enough to push him through in the meantime.

minho: be over in a bit. at the studio.

Kat, however, will never be you. She temporarily fills the void, but she will never be you.

From before, from now.

kat: can u stop by for some food?

minho: i'm only coming by for a bit. i have to be up early tomorrow.

kat: yeah ofc whats new

Minho rolls his eyes as he sets his phone aside and continues to dance around the empty studio for a bit until he feels somewhat content. He drags his duffle bag to the separate staff locker room, quickly using the shower before changing into a fresh pair of sweats and a hoodie. He ruffles his damp hair a bit as he walks out into the fresh night air, tossing his bag into the trunk before making his journey to Kat's apartment.

At this point, he's not entirely in the mood to see her. But, he's here just like he says— and he only plans to stay for a quick minute before he's rushing home.

Just like he says.

"Oh, you really didn't stop by for food." Kat snickers a bit before stepping aside to let him in.

"Why would I when I said no?" Minho confusingly chuckles a bit. "Told you I was only coming for a bit. I'm beat."

"Uh huh." She says. "I missed you." She pouts. "I barely heard from you today." He watches her as she wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him on the lips even though he barely returns the effort.

"I was busy."

"You could at least tell me that." She whines as she laces her hand with his.

"Sorry." Is all he can say even though he doesn't really mean it. She is not you; from before, from now. "I'll let you know next time." He follows up and uses it as leverage to kiss her again. "I'm here now, aren't I?" He says in between kisses, sinking into her touch and her lips when she lets out soft moans against him.

This is right where he needs her to be. This is the release he needs, the temporary void he needs filled.

She knows what this is, for the most part. She knows Minho could never be serious with her, though she tries. Hoping one day, he will. Hoping one day, he'll finally move past you and give her a shot.

But, he won't. He never will. And if the accident taught him one thing, it's the fact that he will never, ever give you up again.

She takes the lead and rushes him to the room, clothes flying in all directions until they're decorating the floor. She pushes him onto the bed, legs dangling off the edge while she crouches down and wraps her lips around his length. He hisses a bit, fingers laced in her hair as he pushes her down more, and more.

More;

'Till she takes all of him.

He can't deny that it feels amazing, but he doesn't wanna leave it at that. He's not always a taker, only if Kat reassures that she wants to please him and him only. So, before he feels himself reaching his peak, Minho gently tugs her head off— praising her as he gets her on all fours. He's not wasting any time, no. He enters her and bottoms out quick, finding the perfect rhythm in no time.

He needs to get out.

He doesn't necessarily take his time as much as Kat wants him to. She's screaming his name like a mantra, head pushed against her pillow while Minho continues to do his work behind her. It doesn't take long before she's like putty in his hands and he's stupidly pulling out to spill his seed all over her ass, back.

He needs to get out. Now.

So, he comes back down from his high, regulates his breathing and hops off her bed. He's quickly throwing his clothes back on while Kat is confusingly doing the same. She's asking him why he's been doing this lately, and he doesn't really know how to explain to her that he's just feeling more and more disconnected to this whole thing— to her. She's still continuing though; arms crossed tightly against her chest as she follows Minho out to the door, tears threatening to spill over her bottom lid. He's not focused on her, to be honest, and he's exhausted. Not much is registering for him besides his lazy 'I'm sorry's' and 'I'll spend more time with you the next time I'm over.' But the one thing that does snap him out of everything is when Kat asks—

"It's because of Y/N isn't it?" He stops in his tracks right as he's about to swing the door open and turns over his shoulder to glare at her. "Ever since she woke up—"

"Don't." He says sternly. "You don't get to do that." His jaw clenches. "Do me a favor and don't bring Y/N up again." He swings the door and slams it shut, suddenly feeling emptier than he did before he got here.

Maybe this wave would be the hardest.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | HOSPITAL

"Are you going to come with us to the hospital to visit Y/N tomorrow?" Minho shakes his head at Seungmin.

"Probably not. You guys can go without me." He says softly as he scribbles some notes into his notepad for the small, upcoming café renovations.

"You sure?" Seungmin softly asks and all Minho can do is nod without meeting his eyes. Seungmin lets out a soft sigh before he grabs his keys sitting on the dining room table. "Gotta head back into the office really quickly to drop something off. See you later?"

"Yeah." Is all Minho says, still avoiding contact until Seungmin is out of the door. He lets out a deep sigh, dropping his pen onto the notepad.

He doesn't even remember what he needed to write.

He checks the time on his watch, hand close to hitting 4 o'clock. He groans to himself, shutting his notebook before grabbing his own keys from the other end of the kitchen table.

He hopes he doesn't regret this.

Though, he kinda does when he slaps the visitor tag on his sweater and proceeds to your room. Then, it grows when he stands at your doorway and sees you lying perfectly still on your bed. He digs his hands into his pockets and remains there for a moment, afraid to move closer, yet his feet aren't taking him away from your room. He musters up the courage about a min later, slowly walking towards your bed side.

Even through all the pain and hurt you've been through, you still looked so, so angelic.

"Hey." He says, close to a whisper— voice slightly cracking because he doesn't know what he's feeling right now as he looks at you. Is he angry at himself for coming here when things were't changing anytime soon? Is he angry he could've done better? Is he angry for the way the universe is playing such a sick fucking joke on him right now?

Because you're in reach and out of reach at the same time.

Minho gains more courage to pull his chair closer to your bedside so that he doesn't have to lean too far to get a good look at you. The only sounds filling the room are the beeping machines and the people passing in the hallway outside.

"Y/N." He calls your name as he gently brushes the hair back and away from your face. "Hope you're doing okay." He feels so stupid. Why would he say that? His thumb caresses your cheek before it slides down to your hand. It isn't too cold, but the warmth in your body has subsided.

The warmth in your body is fighting to stay.

"I-I—" He pauses to lick his lips. "I miss you." No response. "God, I miss you." He feels the tears welling up and his head drops. He holds your hand tightly and squeezes, hoping he can feel anything on your end.

But, nothing.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers just as he's remembering every detail about you, the moments he's shared with you, the feelings, your touch—

The way you smile, the way you laugh.

The way you always kiss his fingers and look at him in pure adoration.

The way you bring the sun and blue skies into every room.

"I fucked up and I'm so, so sorry." He continues to whisper as he cries harder, head falling near your lap as he continues hold your hand. "I'm so sorry." He repeats.

He should've kept his word.

He should've done better.

He should've protected you.

"I should've done better. I shouldn't have let you go, and I'll never forgive myself for being so fucking stupid." He looks up at you through his teary eyes before returning his head back near your lap. "I get it. I would never want you to be in pain. Or, to hurt. All I want is for you to be okay. But, if you can at least hear me right now—" He pauses as his crying intensifies. "Please don't give up on me. I know I fucked up and I know I have no right to ask you for this, but please don't leave me." It's barely audible through his crying, but he's hoping it will somehow reach you. "Please don't leave me."

☁︎ END

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