#*Awkward Boat Sharing

[littlelamy]

boat scene with rafe

requested by @gibson-g1rl l <3 😘 part 2

credits: oysters png from @saizun , and amazing gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The boat rocks beneath you as you step toward where Rafe sits bound against the wall, looking both furious and oddly vulnerable. You catch his eye as you enter the room, holding a small packet of aspirin and a plate of food. His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, but his cocky smirk returns almost immediately.

“Look who’s here to take care of me,” he drawls, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone, though there’s a flicker of genuine relief in his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to your words. You set the plate down next to him and hand over the aspirin, glancing away to avoid letting him see the small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “Thought you’d need this. Can’t have you passing out on us.”

Rafe takes the aspirin from your hand, holding your gaze just a little too long before he swallows it dry. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting room service,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t know you cared this much.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “You should know by now I don’t want you dead, Rafe,” you say with a wry smile. “But don’t expect this to become a habit.”

He chuckles, the sound low and a little smug. “We’ll see about that,” he says, shifting against the ropes, clearly enjoying the attention. He nods toward the plate. “So, what—are you gonna feed me, too?”

You blink, taken aback by his nerve, and then raise an eyebrow, letting sarcasm color your voice. “Would you like me to? Or do you think you can manage?” You narrow your eyes, daring him to keep pushing.

Rafe’s smirk wavers, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink as he quickly looks away. “I can handle it,” he mutters, clearly flustered but trying to play it off. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to.” But you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips as you settle back, watching as he tries to pick up a piece of food from the plate with an awkward, fumbling grip, struggling against the restraints.

You stifle a laugh as he tries to eat without making a mess, and he catches you smiling, his jaw tightening. “Something funny?” he snaps, though there’s a hint of embarrassment in his tone.

You shrug, biting back your amusement. “Nothing at all. You look perfectly in control.”

Rafe grumbles under his breath, focusing intently on his food to avoid meeting your eyes. Another wave rocks the boat, causing you to steady yourself against the wall, and you look back to find him watching you, something almost like concern flickering in his gaze.

“Be careful,” he mutters, his voice softer, dropping the bravado for a split second.

For a moment, you just look at each other, the storm outside and the chaos around you fading into the background. His cocky expression softens, and he gives you a small, grateful nod. He won’t say it, but you know he’s thankful.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, crossing your arms as you lean back against the wall. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

Rafe grins, his cockiness slipping back into place, but now it’s warmer, less of a wall and more like something shared just between the two of you. As he reaches for another bite, he murmurs, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” And as much as you try to resist, you can’t help the small, reluctant smile that crosses your face in response.

The storm hits hard, the boat rocking violently beneath your feet. You’re barely able to keep your balance as you make your way through the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Waves crash against the hull, each one sending a jolt of panic through your body. But there’s something else clawing at you—something that won’t let you ignore the sound of Rafe’s voice, sharp and desperate, calling from another room.

“Come on! Cut me loose!” His voice cracks, the desperation in it too raw to ignore.

You freeze, breath catching in your throat. Rafe. He’s still tied up. The ropes are holding him in place as the boat teeters precariously on the brink of capsizing. You can hear Pope and Cleo yelling from the kitchen, their voices overlapping, trying to convince you to leave it alone. To save yourself. But you can’t. Not this time.

You grip the knife tighter, your fingers cold and trembling from the anxiety rising in your chest. There’s no time to think. Rafe’s call keeps echoing in your head, and that voice—the urgency, the fear—pushes you forward. You make your way toward the room where you heard him last, the sound of the storm growing louder as it pounds against the sides of the boat.

Before you even get to the door, Cleo’s voice rings out. “No! Y/N, No!”

Pope’s voice follows, sharper. “Y/N, stop don’t let him out!”

But you keep moving. You don’t stop. You can’t. There’s no way you’re going to let Rafe stay there, helpless and bound, when you can do something about it.

When you reach the door, you shove it open, and the sight of Rafe tied up against the far wall hits you with a jolt. He’s slumped slightly, sweat slicking his forehead, his face drawn with exhaustion and frustration. His eyes snap to you, and for a split second, they soften with something almost like relief.

“Cut me loose, come on!” He says again, his voice strained, but louder this time, more insistent.

His hands are bound tightly in thick ropes, his legs spread out uncomfortably beneath him. The ropes seem too thick for him to break on his own. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles twitch from the strain, and the panic that flickers behind his gaze. There’s no time to waste. You don’t think twice. You crouch in front of him, the knife in your hand glinting in the low light.

Rafe watches you, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “Don’t make me regret this,” you murmur, feeling your heart beat faster as you cut into the thick rope that’s holding him in place. Your hands are shaking, the knife slipping slightly as the boat tilts again, but you focus on the task at hand.

“Come on, hurry up.” His words are clipped, desperate, and you push aside the nervous tightness in your chest as you work faster, cutting the ropes.

You’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, a stark contrast to the cold, wet air from the storm. The boat groans as another wave slams against it, and Rafe’s eyes flicker to the window, then back to you.

“Please,” he breathes, and it’s that one word that makes everything else fade away—the roaring storm, the panicked shouting from the others, the ticking clock of time slipping away.

The last thread gives way with a sharp cut, and Rafe’s hands are free. His arms immediately reach for you, grabbing hold of your wrist with a surprising amount of force, pulling himself upright.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice rough, but there’s something deeper in it, something like a sense of vulnerability you’ve never seen from him before.

You don’t have time to say anything, to wonder if he’s really thankful or if he’s just grateful to be free. The boat shudders violently, and you both stumble as the hull groans beneath you. The wind howls outside, whipping against the windows, and you know there’s not much time before things get worse.

Rafe doesn’t wait for an invitation. He grabs your arm, pulling you toward the narrow hallway. “We need to get to somewhere safer,” he says, his tone not leaving any room for an argument.

You’re both moving quickly, though the boat keeps pitching wildly. The wind screeches, and water sloshes against the floorboards. Every step feels like a risk, like the boat could capsize at any moment. But Rafe doesn’t let go of your arm. He pulls you behind him, guiding you toward a small corner near the engine room, the only place that might offer even the slightest bit of shelter.

You slide into the corner, pressing yourself against the cold wall. It’s not the safest place, but in the madness of the storm, it’s all you have. Rafe follows, wedging himself beside you. There’s barely enough room for the two of you, but you don’t mind. You’re not focused on that right now. All you can think about is how the boat is rocking, how you’re both on the brink of disaster, and how Rafe’s body is so close to yours.

He leans into you, his breathing ragged and uneven. For a moment, he pulls away, but then his hand is at your waist, his grip tightening. It’s almost like he’s afraid you might slip away from him. He presses his body closer, his face now inches from yours, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart.

Rafe places his head on your neck, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder. The warmth of his breath on your skin is both comforting and unsettling, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you place your hand on his back, the pressure of your touch grounding both of you as the storm rages on around you.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to reassure him or yourself.

Rafe doesn’t respond, but you feel his muscles relax, his tense body unwinding little by little. He’s not just holding onto you for stability; it feels like he’s holding onto you for something more. You can’t explain it, but there’s something in the way he leans into you, something raw and vulnerable that you’ve never seen before.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln

[luvth0t]

NEED ME? ━ L.N

in which you’re on vacation with your ex boyfriend, the only man who’s been able to make you cum in recent times.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, eavesdropping, cocky lando, ex lovers, conversations of masturbation and inability to orgasm, hair pulling, oral both receiving, overstimulation, praise, slight degradation, choking ect.

it was a throw away question. one lando probably shouldn’t have brushed off.

“you’re sure you’re fine with her coming?” max had asked so casually despite it being on this tip of his tongue for the last hour, eyes not lifting from his phone to see the way lando looked at him with raised eyebrows.

the driver said your name in confusion, even chuckled. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” lando followed; a rhetorical question. he knew why max was asking such thing.

he watched as max shrugged, hummed mindlessly as if he didn’t have a response prepared.

“wouldn’t catch me wanting to share a roof with my ex,” max mused; putting his phone down and finally meeting lando’s eyes, glare more so, quick to put his hands up in defence. “just saying. something to think about,” max quickly added.

he had his best friends best interest at heart.

“so what? we tell her she can’t come?” lando scoffed, shaking his head as he leant back into the seat he was occupying. “we’re friends. hasn’t been an issue before.” lando dismissed.

and he wasn’t lying. you’d broken up almost a year ago, which was concerning at first considering you shared the same friend group. were friends before lovers.

but it worked, you’d remained friends. saw each other every now and then, in a group setting. you weren’t as close, obviously, but it wasn’t awkward.

“no i know,” max huffed; even rolling his eyes. “maybe two villa’s is something to think about, that’s all.” max shrugged once more. he wasn’t just thinking of lando, but you as well, his other dear friend.

the brit shook his head, not giving in to the worry max seemed to hold. “not necessary. no different than being at the same hotel.” lando concluded.

he’d seen you on nights out, had conversations with you on boats; you still got an invite and paddock pass to his home race.

there was nothing to worry about. if you two weren’t capable of being friends, such thing would’ve been exposed.

that’s what lando thought anyways.

standing on the deck of a ten bedroom villa in the south of france however, he realised maybe he should’ve considered max’s words more carefully.

small doses of you seemed to differ from your constant presence.

the break up was civil, lando was grateful for such thing. it’d been him who ended things, purely because he felt as if he couldn’t give you the time you deserve. it was a cop out, he feared, realising things were almost too good between the pair of you.

he wasn’t sure he could commit to putting you through a relationship where you wouldn’t get the time and treatment you deserved.

you took it well, an angel in fact; you wanted to hate him for it. but you couldn’t bring yourself too. selfless enough to put the peace of your mutual friends and him first. plus, losing him entirely left a bitter taste in your mouth.

you’d mourned the relationship, cried in private and cursed him to your best friend; and moved on. well, appeared to have.

it went unspoken, amongst the group; in front of you two at least, and between you two as well. not exactly something you were ready to laugh at yet. it just seemed to go… unaddressed.

until it was night two, dinner at a fancy restaurant with maybe a few too many bottles of wine meant piling into ubers to get back to the villa.

it sort of just happened, lando shuffling into the car behind you; leaving you in the middle of him and max; pietra on max’s lap and tom in the front.

your senses were consumed of him immediately, not able to avoid him considering you were practically pressed into his side in an attempt to give pietra enough room.

you glanced up at him once, smiling sheepishly to see his eyes already on you.

“you still wear it,” lando hummed casually, pinky finger reaching to brush over the bracelet he’d bought you a few months into your relationship, grazing your wrist as he did so.

your cheeks went a shade of pink at the observation, and if it weren’t for the fact you were wine drunk you probably would’ve made up an excuse as to why the piece of metal still found it’s way onto your wrist everyday.

“it’s my favourite,” you replied; glancing down at the piece as your hand moved to fiddle with it, small smile playing on your lips.

you missed the grin spread on lando’s face, a sense of pride fulfilling him as he recounted the stress it had caused him just picking out the damn bracelet. he was relieved to see you still wearing it, for some reason.

“i’ve got good taste.” lando bragged, eyes practically begging for yours to meet his again; smiling in amusement when they did as you nudged him.

you were suddenly even more aware of the closeness, the way your knees were touching, how his arm had stretched to rest over the headrest behind you. it was forced proximity sure, but an odd sense of familiarity that you hadn’t felt in a while was accompanying it.

“most of the time,” you mused, earning a nudge back ━ which had a giggle escaping you, one you attempted to hush; not wanting to draw attention to you and lando’s conversation.

if it did, the others in the car would’ve seen the way lando’s face lit up at the sound. he hadn’t made you laugh like that in months, he’d forgotten how good it felt to do so.

he’d almost forgotten how easy you were to be around. how easy it was to fall for you in the first place.

it was as if the universe was punishing him for such thing, because suddenly you were all he could think about once more.

that night, he was simply relaxing in his room; when you came waltzing in.

“p,” your voice hummed as you knocked; pushing the door open before lando could muster a response from inside. “do you have my top━ oh shit, sorry!” you’d cut yourself short when you found yourself standing in lando’s room. not pietra and max’s.

who was luckily just lounging on the bed in his joggers, not far from switching the lamp off and going to sleep.

but he had been shocked to see you enter his room in just a towel.

“you’re fine,” lando chuckled; having sit up. “we swapped rooms this morning… figured they should have a private bathroom,” lando explained; watching as your face softened in some sort of relief.

you hadn’t been crazy. regardless, still embarrassed; the redness on your cheeks clear as you nodded, cringing ever so slightly.

“right; my bad, sorry,” you repeated; not even wanting to imagine what else you could’ve walked in on.

lando simply chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes glanced over your figure just once; unable to help himself. having to swallow to not let himself think back to what he knows is underneath the towel keeping you modest.

“i’m gonna go,” you declared; sheepishly smiling as you turned on your heel; cringing once more now that you were out of sight, not hiding the urgency as you practically fled his room and slammed the door behind you.

lando hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until you left, body relaxing as he flopped back onto the mattress; a curse leaving his lips.

the next morning, you were there again. obviously. yet he couldn’t see you, nor could you see him. so technically he was eavesdropping; but it hadn’t been on purpose.

lando was out on his balcony first, which was above yours it appeared; mindlessly scrolling through his phone before arabella’s voice became audible, who you were rooming with this trip.

“since when did nicolas get ripped,” she’d posed to you, peering at the man who was dipping in the pool; your eyes following her gaze from where you both sat in deck chairs; smoothies in hand.

“he’s always been cute,” you pointed out; shrugging ever so slightly as you adjusted the sunglasses atop your head, rolling your eyes the moment you caught glance of arabella’s grin.

“and he’s always been into you.” arabella chimed, and you should’ve expected her to steer the conversation in such direction.

lando whoever, who hadn’t scrolled past the tik tok which was playing for the fourth time now, had not expected such words.

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you and nicolas? yeah right. you two were close friends, he knew that much. but nothing more. surely not.

“we’re friends bella,” you dismissed; shaking your head. slightly flirty friends as of recent, you’d admit. but just friends.

“so? doesn’t have to stay that way,” arabella had grinned ━ and lando felt betrayed; as if it should be him the pair of you were talking about. not nicolas.

“yes it does.” you laughed. “i’m not dating within the friend group ever again,” you spoke in such certainty it had lando confused, he didn’t think it faired that bad the first time.

but he also wasn’t opposed to your declaration. not that he was close to nicolas, in fact he probably knew him the least. but he was a brother of a childhood friend, who’d tagged along the last few trips. and lando had no complaints of the guy.

“don’t be silly,” arabella huffed. “i’m not saying fall in love with him. just that he could end the sex drought you’re stuck in.” arabella hummed, your eyes widening as you hit her softly.

“what? no one can hear us!” arabella spoke dramatically, and you rolled your eyes; no argument because you figured she was right.

however she wasn’t, because lando was still listening. and his interest had suddenly spiked.

“i am not… stuck in a sex drought,” you huffed; not sounding one bit convincing as you glanced at the pool. “men just suck. i’ve given up on having an orgasm.” your words were dramatic, and playful, but still a bit of truth to them.

suddenly lando felt guilty for overhearing, or purposefully listening, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued.

your words made no sense to him; considering nights with you would always lead to multiple orgasms for both of you.

and it wasn’t as if you were short on options.

“gotta do everything yourself these days,” arabella sighed out dramtically in agreement; but she had a boyfriend, and your friendship with the girl wasn’t one for many secrets; you knew she was only ‘relating’ out of sympathy.

truth was; since lando, nothing or no one could compare. not even your own damn fingers.

“can’t even get myself off.” you huffed out almost ashamed, and you only whined when you met arabella’s shocked eyes and slack jaw.

lando suddenly felt intrusive, and flustered from the idea of you touching yourself; one he’d grown familiar with due to long distance. suddenly he was standing and ready to walk himself inside in his room.

“is your body like… broken?” arabella sounded bewildered, and you could only huff.

you’d blame it on stress, or any of your medication if it was possible; you’ve heard stories, knew there could be many reasons as to why your sex drive and urges have suddenly changed. none aligned with your circumstances however.

“just deprived i think,” you sighed.

lando needed to get his mind off your sexual need’s immediately, deciding to go on a run with max to occupy himself. to get you off his mind.

and it worked, until he got back to the villa. hot and out of breath, he found himself in the kitchen ━ pouring a glass of water with ice, eyes wandering out the fold out doors that exposed the luxurious back yard. decking, sun lounges, a pool; and his closest friends.

and his ex girlfriend. in a little bikini. with another man’s hands on her.

he couldn’t help but scoff at the sight, you resting on your stomach as nicolas rubbed sunscreen into your back ━ watching as you grinned and spoke up to him momentarily. you were flirting, he knew that look.

his takeaways from his… eavesdropping, was that you didn’t plan to pursue nicolas. so what the fuck was this?

he wanted to laugh, you were going to seek answers to your problems in nicolas? he almost felt offended; if you needed good sex so badly he felt as if he was the obvious candidate.

“careful mate, you’re staring,” max’s words snapped lando out of his thoughts; causing him to glare at the man quickly, bringing his glass to his lips, unaware that his grip was so tight his knuckles were white.

max’s amusement only escalated, eyebrows raising as he chuckled quietly.

“i wasn’t.” lando murmured, leaning back against the counter. “just didn’t know that was a thing,” he tried to shrug off; eyes returning to where you now sat up, rubbing sunscreen into nicolas’s back now.

had he been oblivious to the pair of you?

“i don’t think it is.” max shrugged, following lando’s gaze momentarily, not overanalysing the sight. everyone was friends here.

lando looked to max in doubt, to check if he was being serious.

“does it matter if it is?” max questioned, sassily too, almost a challenge; and lando was quick to scoff ━ mustering up the best chuckle he could to appear as unbothered as he wanted to be.

“no,” the mclaren driver answered almost too quickly, clearing his throat slightly. “i hope it is. would be a good match,” he overcompensated; left to only flip max off as he chuckled and hummed unconvincingly.

“whatever you say,” max mused.

lando wished he was being honest, but as time passed by it became quite clear he was lying.

dinner that night you were sat at opposite ends of the long table, like usual; regardless, lando’s eyes were trained on you for the majority of the night.

you and nicolas of course. who’d snagged the seat next to you.

forced to watch as you shared food, laughed and chattered away in your own little world.

lando felt sick from the sight; that used to be him. should be him. and while he could only blame himself for it not being him, it was a cruel reminder of what he’d lost.

he felt utterly helpless however, because there was nothing he could do.

he couldn’t even express his dismay to anyone as he watched nicolas help you in the car. left to watch as you both giggled and stumbled up to the villa ahead of the group.

he wanted to intervene, to make his presence known to hopefully at least make it awkward. but he couldn’t bring himself too.

not when you’d been such an angel in the breakup, made things so easy for him from the start of the relationship to now. it just wouldn’t be fair to ruin this for you.

even though it was all he wanted to do.

he noted how you two were first off to go ‘sleep’ that night, halfway through the movie that had been put on. and he suddenly wished he’d downed a few more glasses of red at the restaurant, maybe then he wouldn’t have the capacity to brainstorm up everything and anything you and nicolas could be doing tonight.

he wasn’t going to say it was what kept him up, tossing and turning and unable to fall asleep; but it definitely played on his mind.

it was starting to make sense to him at least; he hadn’t been around you without distractions since the breakup. it suddenly became clear how helpful those distractions are.

3:42 the clock read.

lando hadn’t gotten a second of shut eye, and after two hours of laying there; he conceded. deciding to get a glass of water as if that would be the solution to all his problems.

instead he was just met with the problem itself; you.

surprise, surprise. nicolas was not the answer to your prayers.

you were already keen to tell arabella ‘i told you so’ when you returned to your room. having spent the night in nicolas’.

he was a nice guy, until the clothes came off.

it was nothing new, you on top; he came. you didn’t. he then tried to get you to finish with his fingers, and you faked an orgasm when it became clear he wasn’t finding your clit any time soon.

your frustrations had now multiplied, it felt pathetic. you were ready to give up.

you snuck out the moment he fell asleep, in the kitchen to get a glass of water and for a few moments to yourself.

“shouldn’t be surprised you’re up,” lando made his presence known, having debated running back to his room when he noticed you occupying the kitchen.

typical.

“needed a drink,” you hummed sheepishly; and for some reason when your eyes met his you felt intimidated; as if you needed refuge, turning back around to the fridge to fill your cup up with ice.

maybe it was because you were already sexually frustrated. or the fact you were stood with your ex boyfriend after sneaking out of another guys room.

“same,” lando hummed; moving behind you to grab a glass for himself, and you could feel him waiting behind you as you poured water into the glass.

“nice night?” lando asked when you moved aside so he too could fill his glass, not looking at you for the time being so you wouldn’t decipher the motives in the question. he didn’t need you to know how concerned he was with your night.

you nodded quickly, humming as you still had a mouth full of water, leaning against the counter now.

“yeah, yeah,” you spoke; pursing your lips. it had been. until it wasn’t. “restaurant was lovely,” you smiled; shifting on your feet slightly as you took in his appearance, even in the dull lightly.

his messy curls that look slept on, slightly tired eyes. he looked cozy.

lando nodded, so much on the tip of his tongue. maybe if it was a different hour of the day he’d have the common sense to not speak his mind, but he was slightly sleep deprived and going insane from his own thoughts.

“you know my balcony is above yours,” lando told you; randomly, your eyebrows furrowing ━ coughing out a slight laugh. you weren’t sure where this conversation was going to lead, your guess was awkward silence. not him blurting out something… irrelevant.

it took a few moments for it to dawn on you, the slight curve of lando’s lips into a smirk causing your eyes to widen in realisation.

you’d only been out on the balcony once today.

“oh my god,” you mumbled; cringing as he chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly. “shut up!” you whisper yelled, leaning forward to whack his arm, which only had him laughing once more as his hands flew up in defence.

“i wasn’t eavesdropping! i swear,” lando mused, shaking his head as your eyebrows raised.

“great, so you just happened to hear all about my sad sex life,” you huffed, and lando couldn’t help the small smile that was refusing to leave his lips; always having adored the sight of you flustered and sheepish.

it didn’t help, the sight of you wearing what seemed to be just an oversized shirt. reminiscent of how his shirts would drape over your body.

“yeah,” lando confirmed sympathetically, causing you to whack him again; no force in your actions as you groaned audibly.

you couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather not hear that conversation; ever so grateful you hadn’t been completely honest with arabella.

you would die of humiliation if you’d told her how you compared every man to lando, how you found no one was able to make you feel anywhere near as good.

but regardless, there was a level of comfort. you trusted the man in front of you.

“nicolas though hm?” lando spoke light heartedly, reminding you of the man you’d just been in bed with.

was it bad he’d slipped your mind completely? having forgotten that he was who sparked such conversation this morning.

“did he make you cum?” his follow up question had you dumbfounded, having not expected such blunt words as your lips parted. “can i ask that?” lando added with a reassuring laugh. but you knew that look in his eyes.

they were darker than usual, he was staring at you intently; practically begging you to step closer.

“no,” you cleared your throat, opting for honesty. “he didn’t.” you huffed, eyes avoiding his for a moment as if you were ashamed. as if it was your fault.

the relief lando felt was pathetic, not that he wished a bad time upon you. or anyone for that matter. but god it felt like the door had been swung right open for him.

he was right; of course nicolas wasn’t going to do it for you.

“i know you can make yourself cum.” lando chimed, pushing himself off the counter and taking a couple steps towards you; ridding any distance as he stood in front of you. “used to be able to at least, seen it myself,” he told you as if you could forget.

you swallowed intently, the tension now almost suffocating. sleeping with an ex was something you swore against; recipe for disaster. but it seemed awfully appealing when it looked like lando did right now.

your cheeks were pink, thinking about the countless times you’d gotten yourself off on facetime calls with the driver, purely because neither of you could wait any longer to see one another again.

“not the same anymore.” your voice was barely above a whisper, it didn’t need to be; not when he was only centimetres away, looking down at you as if he was ready to ravish you.

lando’s eyebrow raised at that, eyes flickering across your face.

it wasn’t the same, you’d worked out the hard way. you only relied on your own devices when you had no other choice; and with that would be lando on the of phone with words of encouragement and direction.

“what, need me to talk you through it again?” his words were teasing as his hand moved to cup your cheek; your stomach turning at the thought. at the fact he seemed like he knew that would do it for you.

you let out a slight breath, shaking your head but you held little confidence in doing so.

“need me to touch you?” he added on, offer sounding almost like a request; words so hushed you could’ve missed them. but you didn’t, you heard him loud and clear.

his eyes were pouring into yours as if he pitied you, but the smirk on his face showed he wanted nothing more than to be the one to solve your problems.

you didn’t even need to think about it, no ifs or buts entering your mind; nothing could make the idea of him seem unappealing.

“please,” you mumbled; eyes pouring up into his, watching as a wicked grin spread on his features; one that made your knees weak.

it was all lando needed to hear, lips pressing against yours in an instant; it coming back to the pair of you quickly. feeling so natural, the way your body melted into his touch; the way your lips moved against each other.

your hands finding a grip on his shirt as his spread across your hips.

lando didn’t waste any time; he wanted to make you cum.

he wasn’t sure if it was because it seemed like a challenge, or because he missed you; but god did he want nothing more than to make you feel good:

his knee pushed between your thighs first, your legs spreading; immediately aware of the finger he was tracing up your inner thigh.

as much as lando missed the feeling of your lips against his, he loved watching you react to every touch and feeling. pulling away but not creating much distance as his fingers brushed over your clothed folds.

you took a sharp breath, shifting your weight to lean against the counter as the anticipation built within, eyes locked on his as he teasingly brushed your clothed clit as well.

he could feel your soaked panties, a wet patch that you knew wasn’t there when you first entered the kitchen.

“you know it doesn’t make sense,” lando started speaking through a breath; his fingers pushing your panties aside with ease, swiping through your folds; spreading your wetness to your clit. “because you’re always so easy for me baby,” he practically cooed as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your jaw fell slack, hips pushing against his hand lightly as you whimpered; cheeks hinting at his taunting words which you’d almost forgotten about and how crazy they drove you.

his free hand returned to your cheek, cupping the side of your face and adjusting your head to ensure you were looking up at him; his head tilting ever so slightly as he gazed down at you.

“so responsive,” he added in a hum; looking incredibly smug, thumb settling on your clit ━ and the moan that escaped you as he circled your sensitive bud had lando’s jaw clenching. he’d missed your pretty sounds.

he was toying with you, teasing. his fingers moving slowly, thumb only lightly circling your clit. yet you hadn’t felt this good in fucking forever, face contorting in pleasure proving such thing.

lando could get lost in the sight, not able to help himself from wanting to give you more.

his fingers gradually picked up the pace, thumb applying more pressure now; but it was when he curled his fingers, grazing that spot he never failed to miss, that you hadn’t been able to find, that a slightly louder moan escaped you.

“ah, ah,” lando hushed you; tapping your cheek lightly. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando hummed through heavy breaths, hating that he had to ask such thing of you.

he wanted to hear you lose control, hear you scream his name like you had countless of times. but he’d hate to be interrupted and have the current sight cut short.

you whined quietly at the request, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried to keep any noise at bay; knowing you had no choice. waking anyone up would be less than ideal.

but somehow, the thought of being caught was the least of your concerns.

your back arched when he added a third, thumb still expertly playing with your clit; your quiet whimpers and moans were growing in volume once more.

lando took matters into his own hands, the hand cupping your cheek shifting so he could tap his pointer finger on your bottom lip; and he had to shut himself up this time as you invited two digits past your lips without second thought.

“fuck,” he mumbled out; eyes fixated on the way you looked up at him with his fingers in your mouth; so similar to the sight of when you’d suck him off. his hard on was almost painful.

your moans were muffled now, thankfully, as your hips pushed forward once more; slowly losing control over your body as the pleasure continued to build.

you’d made a mess on your thighs, his fingers working in and out of you perfectly; beginning to curl his fingers repeatedly had your eyes rolling back.

“yeah, right there baby?” lando mumbled; despite you unable to respond. “gonna make a mess on my fingers yeah? think you deserve to cum,” he smirked ━ and if you could’ve you would’ve cried out, nodding quickly at his words.

your stomach tightened, it was sudden; more sudden than you remembered, lando having caught on to the fact you were cumming before you did; squeezing his fingers as you came undone.

his body was practically holding you up against the counter, vision going white for a moment as your muffled moans filled the air, hips bucking involuntarily once more.

lando wanted to curse himself for ever depriving himself of such thing, watching as you shook in front of him; fingers moving to let you ride out your high, until he was pulling them from your panties, and mouth respectively.

your eyes fluttered open, nothing but awe as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes; panting ever so lightly.

he was smiling cockily, if he didn’t know the root of your issue before, he did now. the way you needed him.

you couldn’t even crush his inflating ego, not when he’d made you cum so hard in a matter of minutes; giving you what you���d been chasing the past few months.

he was about to kiss you again, after moments of admiring your face; but the sound of a door shutting had the moment ruined, reminding both you and him of where you are and what you’re meant to be.

definitely not meant to be caught having a moment at 4 in the morning.

lando was quick in taking a few large strides across the kitchen, positioning himself on the other side of the island as you quickly tugged your shirt down and ran your hand through your hair.

when pietra walked in, it was an innocent sight. plenty of distance between the pair of you, not enough lights on to expose your flushed cheeks or lando’s glistening fingers.

you pretended to be surprised as you brought your glass to your lips, leaning against the counter because your legs were still shaky, lando nodding towards the blonde.

“can’t sleep?” lando hummed in question.

“need to fill my water up.” pietra nodded with a smile, eyes flickering between you in suspicion for a brief moment as she realised this was almost an awkward thing to walk in on. you and him.

if only she knew.

you nodded in agreement, raising your glass of water as lando let out a small chuckle.

“if you need a late night snack, the donuts are great,” lando spoke again; your eyes falling onto him, and you were sure your face was bright red as you watched him bring his fingers to his lips; licking them clean.

you coughed on air, playing it off as if your water went down the wrong way; pietra oblivious as she nodded with a smile.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

the smirk he’d sent you was sickening, and with that he was saying good night and excusing himself.

lando ended up needing a cold shower that night, with his own hand and images of you burned into his mind.

you were hoping your head would be clear when you woke up, but it was only more scrambled.

you’d gotten what you wanted, was it greedy to only want more?

“good night?” arabella had questioned you, sitting next to you on the long dining table; bowls of cereal in front of pair of you; and the smirk on her face was quite telling.

except she didn’t know the half of it.

“yeah, yeah it was good,” you hummed; eyes shifting to the other end of the table; where lando sat, already staring at you. the mischievous glint in his eye had you looking away quickly, the sly smirk not helping you in trying to play it cool to arabella.

you knew he was listening.

“did your… problem get solved?” arabella attempted to ask without outing you, so oblivious to the fact lando could easily piece together her words.

your eyes narrowed towards her, as if to say ‘shut up.’ which she only looked back at you with wide eyes, finding herself quite discrete.

“well?” arabella pushed, whisper yelling.

“yes,” you huffed; in hopes she would shut up, you could feel lando’s eyes burning into you. the man who solved your problem, unbeknownst to arabella who thought it was nicolas who was responsible.

“ah! how exciting,” arabella grinned; standing up and taking her bowel to the kitchen, only then did you let your eyes fall back on the british driver.

who looked oh so amused, you had to flee; following in the girls steps.

it set the tone for the next few days; longing looks, tempting smirks and lingering touches.

you couldn’t bring yourself to go out of your way and seek more of him; despite how much you wanted it. nicolas had been forgotten about, failing to explain your sudden interest and now lack of in the guy.

lando was all you could think about. how couldn’t you? he’d fingered you in the kitchen, bringing you to a mind blowing orgasm you’d been craving; one you hadn’t experienced since him. and once again, it had gone unaddressed.

the tension was clear; you got peace from the fact he was in the same boat as you.

you hated that he’d walked off so smug that night and you yourself had nothing to brag about, left to accept the fact that you needed him. had missed him.

and he knew it.

so maybe you were tactical, every day the dresses got shorter. bikini’s got smaller. you wanted to see him squirm.

which was easy.

it was ridiculous, how often you felt his gaze burning into you; feeling the heat on your skin from such thing. you’d blame the hot summer sun for the the constant blush on your cheeks but in reality it was him.

made to feel better by the way his jaw was constantly clenched. hands fiddling with one another. leg bouncing impatiently because he was furious with the fact you were no longer his, he couldn’t whisk you away and tear your clothes off like he wanted too.

left to simply stare. dwell on the facts. wish that he somehow gets a moment alone with you again.

there were sliding doors.

two minutes alone underneath the cabin on a boat, both trying to find something to drink. he swore you were about to kiss him before max came bouncing down the stairs.

you’d all gone out one night, somehow it was only you two left at the bar. lando was convinced this was it, he was going to drag you off to the bathroom.

but then arabella appeared, demanding shots.

you’d never admit that you went out to the kitchen most nights, hoping he too would be awake at such ridiculous hour again.

you tried not to get frustrated, even with the knowledge there was only a couple days till you’d be flying back home to reality.

finally however, you got lucky.

lando had gone on a run; unbeknownst to you, who had slept in.

you rejected plans of going to a winery, choosing for a day by the pool to save energy to go out tonight like planned.

your group of friends had attempted to protest your decision, but you insisted. bribed them with a promise you would do some baking while they were out.

that’s where lando found you.

stood in the kitchen. of course.

tiny bikini. typical.

and no one else in sight. lovely.

“smells fucking amazing.” lando hummed; slightly breathless as he sauntered into the kitchen, moving to stand against the island ━ a safe distance between the pair of you.

the voice had startled you, jumping slightly as you turned around.

you smiled appreciatively at his words, attempting to not stare at his exposed torso. tanned skin, beads of sweat decorating it. his muscles only more prominent as he crossed his arms, flexing invitingly.

“would feel bad letting such a big kitchen go to waste,” you explained; shrugging ever so slightly as your eyes returned to the chocolate chip cookies you were currently making. refuge from the sight of him.

he chuckled, and nodded; not that you saw. but his eyes didn’t leave you.

he should go up to his room.

“who’s home?” he couldn’t help but ask, feet planted. he wasn’t going anywhere.

the question had you facing what you were trying to ignore; the fact it was just the pair of you. it was dangerous knowledge.

“just us,” you spoke through a breath. if the tension wasn’t clear before, those two words had it falling upon the pair of you like bricks.

lando nodded once more, lips pursing. you were so tempting. this was what he’d been hoping for. he was impressed he even had the mental strength to consider running off. hiding in his room till your friends returned.

that idea didn’t last long though. moving towards you, you heard him approaching; his presence was demanding.

he was behind you, causing you to freeze. breath stuck in your throat.

“you’re driving me crazy.” he’d whispered, despite no fear of anyone overhearing; and you had to shut your eyes for a brief moment when his lips grazed your ear, ensuring you knew just how in reach he was.

you found some solace in his words, confirming your suspicions. reassuring to know you weren’t the only one going crazy. the only one feeling nostalgic.

“how so?” you played dumb, bottom lip rolling through your teeth ━ regardless your head tilted aside as his lips grazed your skin again, his breath fanning your skin.

you heard him grunt, and it would’ve made you giggle if you weren’t fighting off the urge to jump his bones.

“don’t act like it’s not on purpose.” lando huffed, hands moving to play with the fiddling strings of your bikini, fingertips only just brushing your skin.

you had to draw in another breath, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. you needed some sort of power, just a physical reminder that he too was struggling despite his admission.

so you turned on your feet, eyes flickering up to his as you shrugged your shoulders; breaths slightly irregular from the closeness. right in front of you. trapping you against the counter.

“know you haven’t forgotten that all you need to do is use your words if you want me to fuck you,” lando spoke before you could, oozing cockiness despite his wandering eyes and tense jaw; his patience wearing thin.

once more you were cornered in the kitchen by his attractive frame and blunt words that had your thighs squeezing together.

“goes both ways,” you chimed; worried if you didn’t speak now you wouldn’t get a word in. you knew how this went; it was only a matter of time till you were a mess in his hands.

his eyebrows raised, he even scoffed; if he wasn’t so eager for you to go on he would’ve reminded you it didn’t.

lando always had a kink for making you beg.

“i already got what i wanted,” you hummed; hands moving to rest on his toned abdomen, running down and across the muscles before finding the waistband of his joggers. “something you want?”

your teasing tone had lando remembering just how worked up you got him, how frustrating and almost annoying you were. how annoying it was to deal with your antics that was.

“the other night was more than enough for me baby,” lando mused; not cracking, even with your hands on his body. “always look so pretty when you cum.”

you wish his words didn’t have such a visible effect on you. how flustered you got clear by the way the blood rushed to your cheeks, even while you stood here playing with the waistband of his pants.

it was pathetic; neither of you wanting to crack first, wasting precious time because you both really thought you were above this.

able to be friends. exes who wouldn’t go back to each other.

you knew he wasn’t entirely lying; of course you could remember how you were gifted a man who got off from getting you off. how he’d spent nights with his head just buried between your thighs. making you cum countless of times before he got his dick wet.

“cold shower treat you well?” you huffed; not letting him get away with such thing. as if he wasn’t standing here with the need to fuck you.

he smirked at your words, your attitude more so; the playful banter having been something he’d missed. something that wasn’t the same since things became platonic.

“did the job.” he laughed, hands still ghosting over your hips. “jealous i can still get myself off?” he couldn’t help but chuckle; and your jaw dropped at him using confidential information against you.

your hands still on his stomach, whacking lightly which he only chuckled harder at; and if you weren’t embarrassed you’d be taking in the way the smile was lighting up his face.

“that was not something you’re meant to use against me,” you practically grumbled; eyes narrowing up at him and he practically awed at the sight, adoring eyes and all as his hand moved to cup your cheek. his grin not matching the sympathetic eyes.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled jokingly as he leant forward; not giving you time to reply as he put the both of you out of your misery, lips connecting with yours.

it wasn’t what you’d both expected, the kiss to finally ease the tension that had been building ever since a few nights ago in the same spot; the kiss was slow. passionate and deep, but not rushed.

it didn’t last long; but was nice in the moment however. to feel him.

the urge to feel more however was soon too prominent.

your hands that had linked behind his neck soon tangled in his hair. the grip he had on your waist soon moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh within his hold which had you leaning into him.

he lazily dragged you back with him, his back hitting the kitchen island as he practically held you against his body; lips moving in sync.

you felt his hard on with the movement, contained by his joggers; your own excitement jumping as your hands left his hair to snake down between your bodies; palming him.

the groan against your lips only motivated you; and while you wish you could do what he does, stand here and tease him; you were too keen to get your hands on him. to hear more of those pretty sounds he makes.

so you simply smiled up at him as you pulled away; bending down and settling on your knees; hands tugging his pants and underwear down with you; revealing his cock.

his breaths were a lot heavier as he watched you, leaning back against the counter ever so slightly, gaze fixed downwards as a small smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth.

he hissed as your small hand wrapped around him; thumb swirling the precum ━ you loving every bit of knowing how turned you got him from just a few words and the sight of you.

he wouldn’t ever deny it either; no one did it for him like you did.

“look so pretty on your knees,” lando praised; eager to gain back some control, despite knowing he’d do anything you asked of him right now; your hand feeling much than his did the other night.

you were eager to continue to please, so you didn’t waste any time in taking him in your mouth. it was as if he knew such thing, by the way his eyes were peering down at you.

his head fell back at the sensation, one he’d missed ━ arms flexing as he gripped the counter; a few curses strung together tumbling from his lips as you practically took him in whole first go.

his tip hitting the back of your throat did little to deter you. it was natural, as if you’d done such thing only a few days ago; not months ━ second nature as your tongue swirled his cock.

your eyes remained up, looking through your lashes as your head bobbed ━ knees uncomfortably shifting against the tiles but it was the last thing on your mind with the beautiful man above you.

taking in the way his abs flexed, neck strained and lips parted as you sucked him off ━ gagging occasionally but both of you knew that was no issue.

“missed this fucking mouth,” lando grunted, hand moving to tangle in your hair; both to keep it out of your way and to just have some sort of hold on you.

he was blindsided with pleasure, more than he remembered he’d be. your bikini did little to leave much to the imagination from his angle, watching as your breasts bounced with every movement. matched with your doe eyes, his jaw was slack.

you hummed as he tugged your hair lightly, the sensation one you always welcomed; and he too was reminded of such as he felt the vibrations around him. tugging again with a little more force.

his groans were gradually becoming more regular, hips bucking once or twice ━ pushing his cock further down your throat each time.

“just like that baby, always so good for me,” lando breathed, eyes screwing such momentarily as his head fell back once more.

you almost whined at the vision, wanting to scramble to your feet and kiss at his skin, feel all over him.

and he’d be happy to let you, he was hesitant in having you get him off first regardless; you hadn’t left much room for argument with good reason.

but right now he had no complaints, moans growing slightly louder in volume ━ grip tightening on the strands of your hair. he didn’t give you any warning as he came, but you didn’t need any.

the way he twitched in your mouth, you didn’t miss a beat ━ swallowing all you could; revelling in the way your name left his lips.

your mouth left him with a pop, gazing up at him to meet his adoring eyes, staring down at you as if you were the greatest thing to grace the earth.

because he did think of you as such. you continued to amaze him, he didn’t grow immune to such thing; just had managed to avoid the fact for a while now.

you stood to your feet, relieving your knees of the discomfort; a coy smile plastered on your lips at him panting and flustered.

you felt even, for the other night; reassured you weren’t the only one in need.

lando couldn’t complain either, couldn’t throw a playful comment towards you ━ not when you stood there with messy hair and swollen lips. all he could think about was turning you into a whiny mess, desperate to have you at his mercy again.

it was clear neither of you knew what to say in the few moments of silence; shamelessly admiring the other, catching your breaths. it wasn’t awkward however.

you were happy to feel his lips on yours once more ━ his hands not shy in wandering your body this time, sliding down to your thighs and hoisting you up immediately.

he was swift in turning around and placing you on the counter, stood between your legs as he hummed against your lips.

it wasn’t until his mouth ducked to your neck, then your collar bones, becoming harder to ignore as your head fell back, growing hot from the kisses he placed where-ever he could, that you spoke up.

“should go to your room,” you managed to get out, watching him through hooded eyes as he simply grabbed the material of your bikini to let your breasts fall free, kissing at the skin of them afterwards.

it wasn’t that you were worried on being walked in on, you had the house to yourselves for at least a couple more hours. you knew that. more so just the knowledge this wasn’t your house.

his eyebrows raised as he looked back up at you, hand sprawling over your stomach as he pushed you back slightly; your body blindly following the suggestion as you leant back on your hands.

“i paid for this villa baby, if i wanna fuck you on the counter i will,” lando murmured, hands spreading your thighs further apart; putting you in no position to argue you.

how could you? his words sounded like a promise, one you could only hope he would keep.

you nodded pathetically, suddenly aware of his hands resting high up on your inner thighs; suddenly aware of your own arousal and need for him.

he discarded of your bikini bottoms with ease, admiring your frame for a few moments as his hand reached to squeeze your breast, nipple rolling through his fingers moments later.

“lando,” you breathed; almost in warning, almost a whine. your legs were still spread and you were already resisting the urge to squirm. your patience non existent.

he only grinned, a slight chuckle maybe as his hands pushed your legs further apart once more.

“i got you baby,” lando hummed. “always so needy for me, you need me yeah? don’t you?” he spoke teasingly, tone painfully sweet as his fingers traced over your soaked folds.

you wanted to curse his obvious teasing, point out how you hadn’t been so cruel. but you knew it’d be no use.

you were scared to admit such thing, huffing as your hips bucked upwards momentarily.

“want to hear you say it.” lando grunted when he realised you weren’t planning on speaking; pinching your clit to get his point across, a strangled moan escaping you as your lips parted, falling into submission.

“need you.” you whined almost shamefully, head falling back as if the ceiling would offer you refuge from his hard stare. “please,”

your pleas were always music to his ears, so much so he debated with the idea of teasing you some more; to draw more whines and please out of you. but the way you were spread for him, so ready; he couldn’t help himself any longer.

you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your clit, sucking at your sensitive bud; not expecting such feeling as your eyes rolled back.

his hands manoeuvred your thighs to place your legs over his shoulders; giving him full access to your core as sweet moans started to escape you.

“o-oh my god,” you whimpered; eyes flickering to the sight of his head between your thighs ━ back arching as his tongue swiped through your folds, assaulting your cunt relentlessly as if he was starved.

you’d been reminded of how good his fingers were; so much so you hadn’t even considered getting his tongue again.

his large hands were squeezing your thighs, a bruising grip to keep you in place; eating you out expertly.

“lando━ feels so good,” you moaned as if that wasn’t clear by the way your hips were pushing against his hold. your right hand left the counter, moving to tangle in his curls, something to grab.

his blue eyes ventured to the sight of you momentarily, and he groaned into your cunt as he took note of the way your face was contorting in pleasure, how your body flinched with every move he made.

whimpers and moans were free falling, lando enjoying every single one ━ glad you could be as loud as you wanted, as loud as he made you.

you knew you were approaching your high shamefully fast, but had little room to care when you’d failed to reach it so much recently.

lando knew your body too well, could tell by the way you were tugging on his curls and creating more force against the hold he had on your thighs that you were about to cum.

he wanted you to let go, tongue flicking and nose bumping your clit ━ you orgasmed hard, suddenly; cumming on his tongue with what almost sounded like a squeal.

he didn’t stop, letting you ride out your high ━ before pulling away, wiping at the corners of his mouth.

you were mistaken however in thinking you would have time to catch your breath, not getting a word out before lando was moving only one leg off his shoulder and sliding two fingers into your entrance suddenly; thumb landing on your sensitive clit.

your body almost didn’t know how to react, falling back onto your hands that found the counter you sat upon once more to stabilise yourself.

“s’ too much,” you whimpered ━ legs attempting to squeeze shut, failing with the angle caused by one leg draped over lando’s shoulder, which allowed his fingers to hit deep within you.

lando hummed in amusement, knowing how much you could take. knowing you always said that, just to whine and cry out if he were to stop.

“too much?” he mocked; fingers curling and your body jerking. “want me to stop?” he breathed; smirking oh so cockily because he knew the answer. chuckling as you shook your head ‘no’ incredibly quickly.

“didn’t think so,” he huffed; thumb speeding up on your clit, rolling over the bud continuously. it was pure ecstasy, the overstimulation overwhelming your entire body.

his breaths were heavy as he admired you, the way you were shaking beneath him. reminiscent of how easily he could you like this, of the nights he made you cum four or five times before fucking you.

it killed him he didn’t have the time to do so again. but he couldn’t possibly complain right now.

“making a mess baby, all over my fingers,” lando spoke; the filthy sounds of his fingers moving in out of you filling the room, and you weren’t sure you’d last much longer when he entered a third. “so greedy. gonna cum again aren’t you?”

it was like he was three steps ahead of your body, leaving you to whine and nod pathetically.

“yeah? that what you want? to cum again?” lando spoke once more; watching as your head fell back, your eyes screwing shut and it satisfied him to see you feel the pleasure he was giving.

he was hard again, purely from his name sounding so fucking incredible as you moaned and moaned, from the perfection you were.

his hand grasping your cheek had your eyes flying open as lando tilted your head forwards to look at him, eyebrows raised in expectance.

“words pretty girl,” lando reminded, chin still between his thumb and index finger ━ struggling to focus on him with the numbing pleasure that was causing tears to form.

you nodded, before processing what he’d said. words. right.

“please lando,” you gasped; eyes pouring into his, pleading with his as your back arched and legs shook. you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself. “gonna cum,” you whined.

lando felt it had been far too long to be cruel, so he simply hummed in appreciation; smiling lazily as he pushed you over the edge as he curled his fingers once more.

your vision went white, screaming his name as you came again, all over his fingers.

lando’s bottom lip rolled through his teeth at the sight, able to take in every moment, no restraint for either of you and it felt fucking amazing.

his hands gently moved your leg off his shoulder, stood between them as his hands massaged your thighs comfortingly, giving you a few moments to come down and catch your breath.

your eyes fluttered open, and immediately you were smiling stupidly at the sight of lando; his own grin mirroring yours as he hummed quietly.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered; unable to stop the compliment from escaping him, and your smile only grew; knowing you’d disagree if you caught sight of your tangled hair and flushed cheeks. 

it had your stomach flipping, men compliment you all the time. only lando would gain such a reaction.

“got another one in you?” his question was gentle; the sparkle in his eye daring, and you had no hesitation in nodding.

“need you inside me,” you mumbled, causing the driver’s smirk to return to its rightful place ━ glad your wants were shared.

you may have gone a long time without, but your stamina hadn’t faulted.

lando was tugging you to the edge of the counter at that, and you easily got lost in the kiss that he placed upon your lips; rough and messy as you melted into his hold.

it’d caught you by surprise, when he tugged you down onto your feet, spun your round and bent you over the marble surface; a gasp escaping you.

“missed you so much,” lando sighed; ushering your legs apart as your breath hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to focus on, his words, your position or the feeling of his hands on your ass.

the confession wasn’t one you’d hold onto, you knew better than to cling to words uttered during sex. but god it felt great to hear.

“missed you too,” you assured him back, moan slipping past your lips as you felt his tip press against your folds; but he made no further movements.

your hips shook slightly, attempting to entice him ━ so needy despite having cum twice already. you just wanted him. all of him.

his hand moved up your back, tangling in your hair and creating a makeshift pony tail ━ one he tugged on immediately, your head snapping up.

“what did i say earlier? about using your words?” lando leant forward, lips grazing your ear; cock pressed against your entrance, causing you to cry out.

your body was overstimulated, tired; tired of his teasing. out of practice to predict his wants.

“want you to fuck me,” you whined quickly, rushing your words out as your hips pressed backwards. “need you lan, please,” you whimpered; sounding oh so desperate lando couldn’t possibly deny you.

he entered you without any more warning, bottoming out as your walls wrapped around him; your gasps intertwining as you gripped the counter below you.

the cool surface against your front did little to cool you down, moaning at the feeling of being so full. full of him again, after so long.

too long.

“always take me so well,” lando grunted in your ear; giving you a few moments to adjust before he was dropping your hair and standing up straight ━ hands finding your hips now.

his thrusts were harsh, rough and deep; not too slow or too fast, ensuring you felt every inch of him as your aching cunt squeezed him.

every move had your body jolting, moans escaping you; the counter and lando the only reason your legs were able to stay upright.

“so-so good,” you stumbled out, eyes rolling back as your body fell limp, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling. what you’d been deprived of and craving.

the driver too was losing himself in the feeling, head thrown back as he moved in and out of you ━ sounds of skin slapping filling up the large and empty space.

it was a mutual feeling, as to why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. how on earth you two had been in such close proximity throughout the months and not gotten to this point yet.

safe to say keeping your distance now would be difficult.

lando felt the need to be closer, as if he needed more of you despite having you already at his mercy.

his hand found your neck with ease, wrapping around your throat and guiding your head up ━ causing you to stand up right, back against his chest.

he didn’t apply pressure, yet, but just the feeling of his large hand wrapped around the base of your neck had your legs feeling weaker; split open on his cock meaning lando’s body was the only thing holding you up now.

“feel good?” lando’s question was just him chasing praise, knowing you were fucked stupid; but he couldn’t help but want to remind you just who was the reason you could barely form sentences.

you nodded as much as you could in his hold. always nodding, he could ask or say anything and you’d find a way to say yes.

“only i can make you feel this good hm? only i can make you cum?” lando didn’t stop running his mouth, basking in the fact it was him that had the tears spilling out of your eyes. a sense of pride washing over him.

you choked out a yes, his thrusts having only gotten faster ━ and when his hand applied pressure to your neck you were almost certain you were in heaven.

“so perfect, so fucking perfect for me baby,” lando grunted in praise; and the kiss he pressed to your shoulder blade was a vast contrast to the treatment of your cunt.

it really was too much, the few tears and whimpers made that clear to lando; you were only moments away from cumming again and the thought alone had his own high dawning on him.

“come on angel, cum on my cock. cum for me,” he was speaking in your ear again; and you practically screamed as your third orgasm hit ━ body falling limp in his hold.

the way your walls squeezed him had him cumming with you, groaning as his forehead rested on your shoulder ━ erratic breaths filling the room as he stilled inside you.

all his touches were suddenly delicate, pulling out of you as he moved you to lean against the counter, still holding you up slightly as you caught your breath.

it was a comfortable silence, his hands ghosting over your waist as you pressed your eyes shut for a few moments.

you’d expected some sort of regret. an immediate now what? for one of you to panic or flee.

but instead, neither of you wanted the moment to end.

“want to join me for a shower?” lando broke the silence, a half smile that had you feeling an odd sense of relief.

one he felt too when you smiled right back, and nodded in agreement.

he’d chuckled, you would even go as far as to say he was grinning; hands grasping your thighs and picking you up with ease, carrying you off towards the bathroom.

when your friends returned you had been on the sofa, lando out by the pool ━ strategically placed to avoid suspicion, already under the assumption someone would’ve brought up the fact it happened to be you two who stayed back today.

chatter filled the room immediately, lando trudging in to greet everyone. you having stayed seated, purely because you didn’t trust your legs.

“burnt cookies y/n?” max had spoke across the room; having been first to stumble upon the overdone batch sat on the kitchen island you’d spent the last 15 minutes sanitising.

your cheeks flushed, purely because you could sense lando’s eyes burning into you.

you could picture the cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“yeah. my bad,” you laughed sheepishly.

and you were glad to be the only one paying attention when lando passed the back of the couch, finger grazing your shoulder as he did so.

“my bad,” he corrected; your eyes meeting his smug ones in passing.

━━

a/n: did y’all miss my shitty endings???

anyways idk what this is but here it is

unedited atm so apologies xox

as always appreciate feedback so so much, love u all and hope u enjoy 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.8

Chapter Eight: He Got My Heartbeat Skipping Down 16th Avenue

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Making Out, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck, Heavy Overthinking, Boats, Cruise Dinner,

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Let’s all collectively pray that Pedro doesn’t EVER read any of my work god bless and thank you.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: I Think He Knows by Taylor Swift

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CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING  

Pedro is sitting across from you, his long legs stretched out under the small table, his ankle brushing against yours every so often. He’s comfortable here, like he belongs in your space. And maybe he does.  

He’s been hovering, checking on you, bringing you food, tucking you in with the kind of care that has your heart doing somersaults in your chest. And now, he’s looking at you with something warm in his gaze, something almost nervous.  

“I was thinking,” he starts, running a hand through his curls, “we should go out this weekend. Like… a proper date.”  

You blink at him. Once. Twice.  

“Like… a date date?” You blurt out, immediately wanting to crawl under the table.  

Pedro grins, dimples and all. “Yeah, a date date.”  

You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”  

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Believe it, sweetheart.”  

“This weekend, though?” you say, suddenly remembering. “That’s when I get my stitches out.”  

Pedro shrugs, easy and nonchalant. “Then we’ll do that together.”  

Your breath hitches slightly. Together.  

You bite your lip, glancing down at the table, at your hands, at anything but him because if you look at him too long, you might melt into a puddle.  

“Okay,” you murmur, barely above a whisper.  

His fingers brush yours, a soft touch, grounding you. “Okay.”  

A two days pass.  

Pedro never really leaves.  

He’s in your room every night, sleeping beside you, taking care of you like it’s second nature. He wakes up earlier than you, presses a soft kiss to your temple before leaving for set, and every time you open your eyes, there’s a fresh cup of coffee waiting on the nightstand with a little note written on the hotel’s stationary.  

Drink your coffee, take your meds, miss me a little.  

You always do.  

To pass the time while he’s gone, you draw. You sketch the view outside your window, the way the evening light filters through the curtains, the memory of his hands on your skin. Sometimes you hum to yourself, letting your voice fill the quiet. Sometimes you read, but you’re always careful when Pedro’s around because you still haven’t recovered from the time he caught you reading fanfiction and you had to pretend it was something entirely not about him.  

And every night, he returns, drops his things by the door, and makes himself at home in your space, even though he has a perfectly good—larger—room of his own.  

“You know, your bed is way bigger than mine,” you point out one night, arms crossed as you watch him steal your pillow like it’s his pillow.  

He smirks, slipping under the covers like he owns the place. “I like yours better.”  

You narrow your eyes. “Liar.”  

He grins, stretching his arms behind his head. “It’s not the bed, sweetheart. It’s the company.”  

You stare at him, heart flipping over itself.  

Yeah.  

You’re absolutely, utterly, completely screwed.

Pedro stretches out on your bed, like he belongs there, like he’s always belonged there. His arm is tucked behind his head, his shirt slightly rumpled from the long day, and his legs are sprawled out like he has no concept of personal space.

You huff, crossing your arms as you stand at the foot of the bed. “You know, I wasn’t actually inviting you to take over my bed.”

He smirks, patting the spot beside him. “And yet, here I am.”

You squint at him. “You have a room, Pedro.”

He tilts his head, eyes softening as he watches you. “Yeah, but I like this one better.”

Your stomach flutters at that, but you roll your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his words affect you. Instead, you climb into bed, careful of your stitches, and settle into the pillows.

Pedro turns on his side, facing you, head propped on his hand. His gaze flickers over you, slow and thoughtful, like he’s cataloging every little detail. It makes your skin heat.

“You feeling okay?” he asks, his voice dipping into something softer.

You nod. “I’m fine, Pedro.”

His lips press into a line, like he doesn’t quite believe you. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

You exhale, heart warming at the concern written all over his face. “Yes, mother hen.”

Pedro snorts. “Good. I was this close to spoon-feeding you soup earlier.”

Your mouth falls open. “What?”

He grins. “What? You were ignoring your food, I was getting worried.”

You groan, flopping onto your back. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.”

Pedro laughs, the deep, raspy sound wrapping around you like a blanket. “What’s embarrassing about me taking care of you?”

You peek at him from beneath your arm. “Everything.”

He hums, reaching out to toy with the hem of your sleeve. “Better get used to it, sweetheart.”

Your breath catches.

Because he says it like a promise.

Like he’s not planning on going anywhere.

The thought is dizzying, and you don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod.

Pedro watches you for a beat before exhaling, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. The room plunges into darkness, except for the sliver of city lights filtering through the curtains.

You’re left facing each other in the quiet, breaths mingling in the small space between you.

Then—

“Hey.”

His voice is low, sleep-rough.

“Yeah?”

There’s a pause.

Then, “This is nice.”

You swallow. “What is?”

“This.” His fingers brush yours in the dark. “Being here. With you.”

Your heart stutters.

You don’t know what to say to that, but you don’t have to, because Pedro just squeezes your hand before settling back against the pillow.

And slowly, slowly, you drift off, feeling safe.

Pedro wakes up early for set, always making sure you have everything you need before he leaves. Sometimes, that means tucking an extra pillow behind your back or leaving a bottle of water on your nightstand. Other times, it means making sure your phone is within reach or adjusting the curtains just enough so the morning sun doesn’t hit your eyes too harshly.  

But the constant, the one thing he never forgets, is pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before slipping out the door, murmuring a gruff, "I’ll be back soon, sweetheart."  

And throughout the day, his texts come like clockwork.  

Pedro: Did you eat?  

Pedro: Did you take your meds?  

Pedro: What are you doing right now?  

Pedro: Do you miss me? 😉  

You roll your eyes every time he sends that winky face, but you still answer.  

You: Maybe.  

And every evening, without fail, he comes back.  

Some nights, he brings dinner—tossing a greasy paper bag onto the bed, giving you an easy smile as he shrugs, “Figured you could use some real food instead of whatever sad snack you had today.”  

Other nights, he’s dead on his feet, barely making it out of his clothes before collapsing onto the bed beside you. His body is heavy with exhaustion, but he still turns to you, nuzzling his face into your shoulder, voice scratchy and thick with fatigue as he mumbles about his day.  

And then there are nights when you wake up for no reason at all—just a shift in the air, a change in the silence—only to find him already awake, propped up on one elbow, just looking at you.  

Like you hung the damn stars.  

You don’t ask him what he’s thinking.  

You don’t have to.  

It’s late, and Pedro is stretched out beside you on his stomach, chin resting on his folded arms, watching as your pencil glides over the page. His breathing is steady, slow—content. The air between you is quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. It’s warm, familiar.  

And then, he notices.  

His brows furrow, lips quirking as he tilts his head. “Is that me?”  

You freeze, fingers tightening around your pencil.  

He smirks. “That’s me.”  

Shit.

“No, it’s not.” Your voice comes out too quick, too defensive. You clear your throat. Cool it. “It could be anyone.”  

Pedro pushes himself up onto one elbow, squinting at the page. “Sweetheart.” His voice is a slow drawl, playful but laced with certainty. “You literally sketched my face.”  

You purse your lips. “That’s just, like… a coincidence.”  

His smirk deepens. “A coincidence.”  

“Yes.”  

“Uh-huh.” He shifts closer, propping himself up just enough so he can rest his chin on your shoulder. His breath is warm against your skin. “Am I your muse?”  

You groan, shoving his face away, heat crawling up your neck. “Shut up. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”  

He chuckles, easily catching your wrist before you can retreat, fingers curling around yours. His thumb brushes over your pulse, slow and deliberate.  

His voice softens. “I like it.”  

You don’t look at him, but your lips curve just slightly, betraying you.  

And Pedro sees it.  

And Pedro feels it.  

And before you can even think of another excuse, another deflection—  

He presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, lingering just long enough to make your pulse stutter.  

“Draw me again sometime,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing. “I promise I’ll pose for you.”  

You roll your eyes, but you don’t say no.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — MORNING

Saturday morning arrives in a slow haze of golden light filtering through the curtains. You stretch beneath the covers, wincing slightly when you feel the dull ache from your stitches. Right. Today’s the day.  

You’re finally getting them removed.  

Pushing yourself upright, you glance over at Pedro, still sprawled across your bed like he belongs there. One arm is draped over his eyes, the other resting lazily across his chest, his breathing slow and even.  

You shake your head, smiling softly as you slip out of bed and head to the bathroom to freshen up. By the time you’re dressed and ready to leave, Pedro is awake—barely. He groans as he stretches, blinking blearily at you.  

“You’re up early,” he rasps, voice thick with sleep.  

You arch a brow. “We have somewhere to be, remember?”  

He hums, rubbing a hand down his face before propping himself up on one elbow. His curls are a mess, sticking up in different directions, and his shirt is wrinkled from sleep. It’s ridiculously endearing.  

“Right,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “Your stitches.”  

You nod, pulling on your shoes. “You still coming with me?”  

Pedro swings his legs over the edge of the bed, cracking his neck. “Sweetheart, I offered to take you.” He stands, stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to expose a sliver of his stomach. “You think I’m backing out now?”  

You huff a small laugh. “Just checking.”  

He grins, stepping closer to ruffle your hair. You bat his hand away, but the warmth lingers.  

As you both step out of the room, you glance up at him. “So… where are we going later? You know, for our date?”  

Pedro smirks, slipping his hands into his pockets. “It’s a surprise.”  

You narrow your eyes. “Pedro.”  

He chuckles. “What? You don’t trust me?”  

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “That’s not the issue.”  

“Mm,” he hums, tilting his head. “Then what is?”  

You hesitate before muttering, “What if I want to dress accordingly?”  

Pedro stops walking, turning fully to face you, a slow smile spreading across his lips. He leans in slightly, lowering his voice. “Sweetheart, you’d look good in anything.”  

Your face heats instantly, and Pedro knows it. He winks, then gestures toward the exit. “Now c’mon, let’s go get you fixed up so you can stop wincing every time I kiss you.”  

You roll your eyes, but your heart is racing.  

Today is going to be interesting.

ER — EARLY AFTERNOON  

You’re so glad you both decided to go to the ER in the morning—because by the time your name is finally called, it's nearly lunchtime.  

Pedro has been nothing but patient the entire time, keeping you distracted with quiet jokes and subtle touches, his knee knocking against yours, his fingers occasionally brushing your wrist. He’s dressed inconspicuously—cap pulled low over his curls, dark-framed glasses perched on his nose, and a coat zipped up against the chill outside. You’re bundled up too, matching his casual, low-key look, though you both know that if anyone really paid attention, Pedro Pascal in an ER wouldn’t stay unnoticed for long.  

A nurse leads you into a small examination room, offering you a kind smile as she checks your chart. “So, you’re here to get some stitches removed?”  

You nod, shifting on the paper-lined exam table. “Yeah. The doctor said they should be good to come out today.”  

She hums, scanning the notes. “Looks like everything healed up nicely.” She glances up, curiosity in her eyes. “How’d you end up needing stitches in the first place?”  

You hesitate for a split second, not really sure how to phrase it. Before you can come up with something, Pedro, who has been leaning against the counter with his hands tucked into his coat pockets, chimes in—voice warm, effortlessly charming.  

“She saved my life.”  

Your head snaps in his direction, brows shooting up.  

The nurse's eyes widen slightly. “Oh?”  

You groan. “Pedro.”  

He just shrugs, casual as ever, like he wasn’t just out here making you sound like some hero in a dramatic action film.  

“It’s not a big deal,” you mumble, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Other people would’ve done the same.”  

Pedro tilts his head, leveling you with a look over the rim of his glasses. “Doesn’t make it any less impressive, cariño.”  

The nurse smiles, clearly entertained by the exchange. “Well, whatever happened, sounds like it was quite the ordeal.” She wheels over a small tray with supplies and snaps on a pair of gloves. “Let’s get these stitches out, then.”  

Pedro stays close, watching as the nurse works with practiced ease. The removal doesn’t hurt, just a slight tugging sensation as the stitches come free. Still, Pedro’s hand rests on your knee, thumb stroking over the fabric of your jeans—a silent reassurance.  

“All done,” the nurse announces after a few moments. “Everything looks great. Just be gentle with the area for the next few days, but you’re good to go.”  

You exhale, relieved. “Thank you.”  

The nurse smiles, then glances between you and Pedro before adding with a knowing glint, “And try to keep out of trouble.”  

Pedro laughs, slipping his hand into yours as he helps you down from the table. “No promises.”  

Your face burns as you leave the room, Pedro’s fingers still loosely laced with yours.  

Outside, he tugs his cap lower, the corner of his lips twitching. “So, officially stitch-free now. How do you feel?”  

You glance up at him. “Pretty good.”  

He grins. “Good enough for our date?”  

Your stomach flips. “Yeah,” you murmur. “Good enough for that.”  

You don’t realize you’re still holding Pedro’s hand until he gives it a small squeeze, tugging you ever so slightly closer as the two of you step outside the hospital doors. The cold air nips at your cheeks, but the warmth of his touch lingers, grounding you.  

“So,” you say, exhaling, “where are we going?”  

Pedro’s lips curl into a smirk, his breath visible in the crisp air. “You’ll see.”  

You narrow your eyes. “That’s not an answer.”  

He just grins and tugs you along, leading you toward a waiting car.  

LITTLE VENICE — GOLDEN HOUR 

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this.  

The two of you stand by the water’s edge, the amber glow of the setting sun reflecting off the canal. The air smells of autumn—crisp leaves and the distant scent of warm pastries from a nearby café. Houseboats bob gently along the docks, their string lights flickering to life as the sky shifts from gold to dusky lavender.  

Your breath catches. “This is…” You trail off, taking it all in.  

Pedro watches you, his expression soft. “Pretty great, huh?”  

You turn to him, eyes wide. “How did you—?”  

He shrugs, looking unfairly pleased with himself. “Heard you mention you’ve never been.”  

Your chest tightens at that. You can barely remember when you’d said that, but clearly, he had remembered.  

Before you can even process how much that means, Pedro’s gently guiding you toward one of the docked boats—a narrow, beautifully restored canal boat, its deep blue paint glossy beneath the fading sunlight. A small sign by the entrance reads PRIVATE EVENING CRUISE — RESERVATIONS ONLY.

Your eyes snap to his. “Pedro.”  

His smirk widens. “Surprise.”  

A thrill rushes through you as a staff member greets you both, ushering you aboard. The interior is stunning—cozy and warm, with plush seating, soft lighting, and a table set for two near the window. A bottle of wine waits in an ice bucket, next to a selection of small plates: fresh bread, olives, cheese, and a few things you don’t immediately recognize.  

You glance up at Pedro, still slightly stunned. “You planned all this?”  

He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little bashful. “Wanted to do something special.”  

Your heart melts.  

You don’t trust yourself to say anything, so instead, you take his hand and squeeze, letting your fingers linger. He squeezes back.  

As the boat begins to move, gentle ripples breaking the canal’s glassy surface, Pedro pulls out a chair for you. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice warm. “Let’s make a night of it.”  

The conversation flows as effortlessly as the water beneath you. Pedro pours you a glass of wine, the deep red liquid swirling in your glass as you sip and listen to him recount stories from set—his voice low, expressive, endlessly captivating.  

You find yourself laughing a lot, warmth bubbling in your chest.  

“You laugh when you’re nervous,” Pedro notes, watching you over the rim of his glass.  

You blink. “I do not.”  

His lips twitch. “You so do.”  

You huff, taking another sip. “Maybe you just make me nervous.”  

The words leave your mouth before you can think better of them, and your face burns as you realize what you just admitted.  

Pedro stills. Then he leans in, elbows resting on the table, gaze darkening just slightly. “Yeah?”  

You swallow hard. “I—”  

He tilts his head. “Is that a bad thing?”  

Your pulse skips. “No.”  

A slow smirk spreads across his face. He doesn’t push further, just settles back into his chair with a knowing look that should be illegal.  

The boat rocks gently, candlelight flickering between you.  

For a moment, neither of you speak—just watching, feeling, knowing.  

Then Pedro shifts, reaching for another piece of bread. “You gonna sketch this later?”  

You roll your eyes, grateful for the reprieve from the intensity of his gaze. “Oh, absolutely. I’m going to document the exact moment Pedro Pascal got all smug on our first date.”  

He barks out a laugh, then leans across the table, voice teasing. “First date, huh?”  

You freeze.  

He grins. “That mean I get a second one?”  

Your heart thunders.  

“I—” You clear your throat, gathering your composure. “I guess that depends.”  

“On?”  

You chew your lip, watching the way his gaze flickers down to your mouth.  

“On whether or not you’ll keep making that stupid face at me.”  

Pedro laughs, full-bodied and warm, before leaning back with an easy shrug. “Can’t promise anything, sweetheart.”

He pours the last of the wine into your glass, his fingers brushing yours as he sets the bottle down. It’s nothing, just a casual touch, but it still sends a shiver up your spine.  

He notices.  

His eyes flicker over your face, his smirk softening into something quieter, something warmer.  

“So,” he says, tilting his head, “you already know way too much about me. Feels a little unfair.”  

You raise a brow. “Do I?”  

“Oh, absolutely,” he says, grinning. “You’ve seen me exhausted. You’ve seen me half-asleep, drooling on your pillow.”  

You let out a tiny laugh. “You don’t drool.”  

“Cariño, I definitely do.”  

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “Fine. What do you want to know?”  

Pedro’s lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to actually ask. Then he leans in, resting his chin on his palm, considering you.  

His voice dips, softer now. “What made you want to do what you do?”  

It’s such a simple question, but the way he asks it—the genuine curiosity in his voice—has you gripping your wine glass a little tighter.  

You shrug, exhaling. “I guess I always liked… creating things. Bringing ideas to life. It never felt like a choice, really. More like something I had to do.”  

Pedro hums, like he understands.  

“Plus,” you add, a little teasing, “it keeps me busy. Gives me something to do when I’m not babysitting actors.”  

Pedro laughs, head tipping back slightly. “Ouch.”  

You grin. “You set yourself up for that one.”  

He shakes his head, eyes bright as he watches you. “You’re dangerous.”  

Something about the way he says it makes your stomach flip.  

You swallow, setting your glass down. “What about you?”  

Pedro blinks.  

You tilt your head. “Why acting?”  

He exhales, running a hand through his curls. “I mean… I could give you some poetic answer about storytelling and human connection, but honestly?” He leans in slightly, eyes twinkling. “I just really loved movies as a kid.”  

Your heart melts.  

“That’s it?” you ask, smiling.  

Pedro shrugs, but there’s something earnest in his gaze. “I wanted to be part of them. That feeling you get when you watch something really good—when it stays with you? I wanted to do that for someone else.”  

You don’t realize you’re smiling until Pedro mirrors it, his own expression softening.  

There’s a lull, comfortable and easy, the boat rocking gently beneath you.  

You should be relaxed.  

But suddenly, your chest feels tight.  

Because you want this.  

Not just tonight. Not just stolen moments in hotel rooms or quiet laughter over takeout. You want—  

Him.  

All of him.  

And that realization terrifies you.  

Because you know what this means.  

If you and Pedro were to actually—god—date, you’d have to go through HR. There’d be paperwork, meetings to ensure everything was above board. And then there was PR.  

You knew how this worked. You’ve watched enough rom-com movies and read so many romance books. The moment someone snapped a picture of the two of you—walking too close, looking at each other too long—it’d be everywhere.  

And what if—oh god—what if it didn’t work out? What if everything unraveled and suddenly the easy, warm thing you had with Pedro turned into something awkward and painful and—  

“You okay?”  

His voice pulls you back.  

You blink, realizing you’d gone too quiet. Pedro is watching you, head slightly tilted, concern flickering across his face.  

You inhale sharply, pasting on a smile. “Yeah.”  

His gaze lingers and he reaches for your hand, fingers tracing over your knuckles, grounding you.  

And you let him.

Pedro’s fingers brush against yours, absentmindedly tracing circles on your skin. It’s distracting, in the worst—and best—way possible. Because while your brain is busy spiraling into the logistics of dating him (HR, PR, and the absolute circus that would come with it), your body is attuned to something else entirely.  

The warmth of his touch.  

The way his thumb skims your knuckles, slow and deliberate.  

The fact that he’s still looking at you, waiting.  

You should pull away.  

You don’t.  

Instead, you let yourself revel in the moment—the quiet intimacy of it. The unspoken something humming between you.  

Pedro tilts his head slightly, his voice dipping into something lower and softer. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”  

Shit.  

You wet your lips, glancing away. “Nothing.”  

He huffs out a quiet laugh. “Liar.”  

Your fingers twitch beneath his, but Pedro doesn’t let you go. If anything, he tightens his grip, his thumb grazing along the inside of your wrist. Your pulse stutters beneath his touch, and the bastard notices.  

His mouth quirks. “You gonna tell me, or do I have to guess?”  

You exhale, trying for nonchalance. “I was just thinking about… logistics.”  

Pedro’s brows lift. “Logistics?”  

You nod, keeping your eyes trained on where your hands rest between you. His are warm, calloused, steady—while yours feel like they’re trembling.  

He waits, because he’s patient.  

You swallow. “You and me.”  

That catches his attention. His fingers still against yours. “You and me?” he repeats, as if he needs clarification.  

You nod again, throat tightening. “If we—” You hesitate, glancing up at him. “I mean, if we—”  

Pedro leans in, smirking. “Sweetheart, if you say ‘if’ one more time, I’m gonna start thinking you don’t actually want this.”  

Your face warms. “That’s not—”  

“Because I do.”  

That shuts you up.  

Pedro watches as your lips part, but no words come out. He squeezes your hand gently, his voice quieter now. “I want this. I want you.”  

Your breath hitches.  

He’s serious.  

Gone is the teasing, the playful back-and-forth you’ve come to expect. Instead, there’s something raw in his expression. Something real.  

It terrifies you.  

It thrills you.  

Because god, you want him too. You want the hand-holding and the stolen kisses. The nights spent talking until dawn, and the mornings where he’s still half-asleep, murmuring your name against your skin.  

But it’s not that simple.  

Your job. His job.  

The entire world watching.  

You press your lips together. “Pedro—”  

“I know,” he says, before you can voice the fear curling in your stomach. He squeezes your hand again. “I know what you’re thinking. The press, the attention, the PR nightmare.” His lips twitch. “HR paperwork.”  

You groan. “It’s a lot.”  

“It is.”  

You glance up at him, finding nothing but understanding in his gaze.  

“But,” he continues, voice steady, “none of that changes how I feel about you.”  

Your heart lurches.  

He exhales, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Look, we don’t have to figure everything out tonight. We don’t have to rush into anything.” His lips curve. “But I do think we should stop pretending like this isn’t happening.”  

You bite your lip, hesitating.  

Pedro watches you for a moment, then—so softly—he murmurs, “I mean, we’re literally on a date right now.”

You exhale shakily, still nervous, still unsure.

But when you meet his gaze, all you see is him.

The man who stays with you every night, who takes care of you, who watches you like you hung the damn stars.

And suddenly, the choice doesn’t seem so complicated.

You nod. “Okay.”

Pedro grins, squeezing your hand once more before lifting it to press a lingering kiss to your knuckles.

“Good,” he murmurs, against your skin. “About damn time.”

The night air is cool against your skin, a crisp contrast to the warmth still lingering between you and Pedro. You stand beneath the glow of the streetlamp, hands tucked into the pockets of your coat, shifting on your feet as you both wait for the car to pull up.  

The date had been perfect—sweet, intimate, just the right mix of playful and real. And now, in the quiet of the evening, with the city humming softly around you, the weight of it all settles in your chest.  

You glance up at him. “Thank you for tonight.”  

Pedro turns his head, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Of course.”  

“I mean it,” you say, voice softer now. “You didn’t have to do all this.”  

He raises a brow, smirking. “Sweetheart, it was a date. That’s kinda the point.”  

You huff out a laugh, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “Yeah, but I would’ve been just as happy staying in bed, cuddling and watching TV.”  

Pedro tilts his head, considering. “Noted.” He slips his hands into his coat pockets, rocking back on his heels. “So next time, we skip the fancy dinner and go straight to you wrapped up in my arms?”  

Your face heats. “That’s not—”  

“Because that’s exactly what I’m hearing.”  

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “I walked into that one.”  

Pedro chuckles, stepping closer, ducking his head slightly so you can’t hide from him. “You really did.”  

You peek at him between your fingers, and he’s watching you with that same look—the one that makes your stomach flip, the one that makes you forget about all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this.  

Sighing dramatically, you drop your hands and shake your head. “I’m probably gonna have to put all my social media on private after this, huh?”  

Pedro snorts. “That or just straight-up deactivate.”  

You groan again. “Great.”  

“Hey.” He nudges you this time, his smile teasing but fond. “I’ll protect you.”  

You roll your eyes. “Oh, sure. From the merciless Twitter discourse?”  

He grins. “From everything.”  

Your breath catches.  

Because he says it so easily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  

Like he means it.  

The car pulls up, but you don’t move, and neither does he. The world around you feels smaller somehow, quieter, like the streetlamp glow is its own little universe where it’s just you and Pedro, standing too close, staring too long.  

And then—so softly—he says, “C’mon, let’s go back to the hotel.”  

And you do.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING 

The ride back to the hotel is drenched in a thick, unspoken tension. Not awkward, not uncomfortable — just heavy with the weight of what now?.  

You sit next to Pedro in the back of the car, closer than you probably should be, his thigh pressed against yours, his arm casually draped along the seat behind you. Every bump in the road shifts you slightly closer to him, and neither of you do anything to stop it.  

Your heart hasn’t stopped hammering since dinner. Every time you glance at him — out of the corner of your eye — you catch him already looking at you. Smiling that soft, fond smile like he’s already memorized the shape of your mouth, the slope of your nose, the exact way your eyes light up when you laugh.  

And god, you’re fucked.  

Because now you want him. Like, really want him. Not just in the dreamy, faraway way you did when you first met him — but in a raw, aching, desperate way. You want his mouth on yours again. You want his hands gripping your waist like he can’t get enough of you. You want him in your bed, in your space, in your life.  

But you also know what happens if you let this happen. The HR meetings. The PR nightmares. The rumors. The tabloids. And oh god, what happens if someone already snapped a photo of you tonight? Did you already trend on Twitter without knowing it? Did DeuxMoi already post something? Is your inbox about to implode?  

You feel sick.  

Pedro must notice the shift in your expression because his hand gently grazes your knee. “You okay?”  

Your head snaps up. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m just—thinking.”  

He smiles. “About?”  

About how I want you so bad it’s physically painful.  

About how I’m probably already in love with you and I’m gonna ruin my entire career if I act on it.  

About how you’re gonna kill me when you find out how unprofessional this is.  

“…Stuff.” You force a laugh. “Good stuff. Don’t worry.”  

Pedro’s quiet for a beat, like he can see right through you. Then, softly — “You’d tell me if something was wrong, yeah?”  

Your throat constricts. God, why did he have to care so much? Why did he have to be so good and sweet and thoughtful — it just made you fall harder.  

“Yeah,” you rasp. “I’d tell you.”  

The car slows in front of the hotel entrance. Your stomach flips. Pedro shifts, his hand grazing your thigh as he reaches for the door. “C’mon.”  

You step out into the evening chill, and Pedro is already there — waiting for you, like he always does. His hand brushes the small of your back as you both head inside, and it takes everything in you not to lean into it.  

The lobby is quiet, warm light casting golden shadows across the marble floors. You barely register the receptionist’s polite smile as you pass. All you can think about is him. The warmth of his touch. The scent of his cologne. The way you’re about ten seconds away from inviting him upstairs.  

The elevator doors open. Pedro gestures for you to step inside first.  

And the silence kills you.  

Your heart is a hammer. Your pulse is thick in your throat. Neither of you speak, but you can feel it — the tension, the pull, the gravitational force tethering you to him.  

Finally — just to break the silence — you clear your throat. “Thanks again for tonight. Seriously.”  

Pedro’s mouth curves into a small smile. “I should be thanking you. I haven’t had a night like that in… a long time.”  

Your chest aches. “You didn’t have to do all that, y’know.”  

“I wanted to.” His voice is quiet but firm. “I wanted to take you out. I wanted to see you laugh. I wanted to… just be with you. Is that so hard to believe?”  

You don’t answer. You can’t.  

The elevator dings. You almost jump.  

Pedro steps out first, waiting for you. The walk down the hallway is agonizing. Not because it’s long — but because every step feels like a countdown to goodnight.  

You reach your door. Your hand fumbles with your keycard. “So, um—” You force a laugh. “I guess this is—”  

Pedro cuts you off. “Do you want it to be?”  

Your mouth goes dry.  

“…What?”  

“This. The end of the night.” He’s watching you like he already knows your answer. “Do you want me to say goodnight and leave?”  

The air crackles. You physically cannot speak.  

“…No,” you breathe. “I don’t.”  

Pedro’s mouth quirks. And then — without breaking eye contact — he slips his hand into his back pocket and pulls out your spare room key.  

Your jaw drops. “You still have that?”  

He twirls it between his fingers, smirking. “Told you. Your bed’s better.”  

“Oh my god,” you choke out, covering your face. “That’s not even—”  

“I’m serious.” He steps closer. Close enough that your breath tangles with his. “I don’t wanna leave. Not yet. Not when I finally have you here — really here — with me.”  

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.  

Your mouth crashes into his before you can stop yourself — desperate, hungry, wild. His hands find your waist, pulling you against him with a groan, like he’s been starving for you all night. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly, and Pedro growls into your mouth.  

“Jesus fuckin’—” he gasps, dragging you toward the bed. “Been thinking about this all night, sweetheart.”  

“Same,” you breathe, your back hitting the mattress.  

Pedro laughs, low and rough. “Yeah?”  

“Yeah,” you admit, breathless. “You—god, you have no idea how bad.”  

His mouth devours yours again, tongue brushing yours in a kiss so deep it leaves you lightheaded. His hands are everywhere — your waist, your hips, your thighs. You whimper when his mouth moves to your neck, and he smirks against your skin.  

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re killing me.”  

“Good,” you rasp, clinging to him.  

And god, it’s perfect. It’s heat and teeth and hands tugging at clothes and whispered please, please, don’t stop. You’re pretty sure you’re seconds away from completely falling apart when—  

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.  

You barely hear it. Just the faint vibration of your phone somewhere across the room. You ignore it. Pedro doesn’t notice.  

His mouth is on your throat, and you’re gasping, arching into him when—  

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

“…Shit,” you pant, barely coherent. “Phone.”  

Pedro groans, not even slowing down. “Ignore it.”  

“Okay.” And you do. Because right now, nothing else matters except his mouth on your skin, his hands in your hair, and the undeniable pull of yes, yes, yes.  

But it doesn’t stop.  

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.  

Yours. His. Both phones — vibrating frantically, insistent and loud.  

“…The fuck?” Pedro pants, finally pulling back. His hair is wrecked, his lips kiss-swollen, and he looks utterly ravished.  

You groan, covering your face. “Oh my god, we’re so fired.”  

Pedro laughs breathlessly, reaching for his phone. “It’s probably nothing.”  

It’s only after your shirt’s halfway off and Pedro’s mouth is dangerously close to your collarbone that his phone won’t stop buzzing.

“…Jesus,” he groans, reluctantly pulling away. “Who the fuck—”

You groan, rolling onto your back, panting. “Just — answer it. Before we actually get arrested or something.”

He groans dramatically, dragging himself off you and fumbling for his phone. “Swear to god, if this is Joseph asking about football—”

But he freezes.

Staring down at his screen. Mouth slightly agape.

“…Pedro?” you frown.

He doesn’t answer. His face has gone completely blank.

Your stomach twists. “What’s wrong?”

“…They’re not calling about us.” His voice sounds distant. “It’s not about the dinner or the kiss.”

Your brow furrows. “Then what—”

But your phone vibrates again. And this time, you actually look.

Missed calls. Texts. Notifications. From everyone. Your supervisor. Pedro’s publicist. Omar. Daisy. Random work contacts.

And then you see it. The text from your manager that stops your heart.

Supervisor: They’ve reviewed the footage. Call me immediately.

Your stomach drops.

“…Pedro,” your voice cracks. “What footage?”

He’s staring at his phone like it just shattered his entire world. Pale. Breathless.

“…The accident,” he finally says. “The day the light rig fell. They — they must’ve gone through the security footage. And now—”

You freeze.

And then, from the corner of your eye, you catch a name flash across your screen.

Rob Beggs, Safety Manager. Incoming Call.

Your throat locks.

“…Oh my god,” you whisper.

And that’s when Pedro looks up at you — his face drained of color, his throat tight — and all he says is:

“They have news about what happened... about the accident on set last week.”

The phones finally stop ringing.

And the silence that follows feels like it could crush you.

End Notes:

LOL I HAVE BEEN HIBERNATING

I hate midterms with a burning passion.

I apolocheese with the cliffhanger but it had to be done with this chapter LOL

also OOOOOO A LITTLE STEAMY CHAPTER... who am I??

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03 @leilanixx @lilasskicker-23 @https-murdock @barnescamboy @widowsvail @senhoritamayblog @morganlolitta @suzysface @reidsworld @xmaykeca @dontlookatme121 @mandaloriankait @picketniffler @pedrofan @mystickittytaco @enchantingchildkitten @seven-seas-of-fuck-you @ro-nahime-things @senhoritamayblog @hermionelove @ashhlsstuff @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @youusunshineyoutemptress @klajmekkk @aomi-nabi @churchofjoemiller @pascalitobarnes @ccmoonshine @its-different-for-girls66

[ktsumu]

18+ NSFT MDNI. POLY MATSUHANA. ALCOHOL.

“What do you mean you don’t like making out?”

Makki looks at you like you’ve betrayed him, on his side of the couch with his half-full beer can in hand. “That’s the best part!”

You shrug. “Dunno. Just never been with the right person, I guess.”

“That’s some bullshit. Guys don’t even know how to kiss a girl right? We used to hunt, you know—“

“Makki sucks at it, too,” Issei chimes, leaning against the other end of the couch with his own can half-empty. He nurses it in one hand, lazily plays with a curl in the other. “Can’t say shit.”

“What the fuck? I’m such a good kisser,”

“You—“

“Wait, why do you know how good or bad he is?” you ask, turning towards Issei on your left.

Over your head, he and Makki share a grin.

“Actually? Forget I asked.”

“Don’t be green, friends kiss all the time.”

“Yeah, sure.”

You slide your back down the couch, crossing your arms over your chest as you focus back on the movie playing on the TV. Your cheeks feel hot.

You’re aware of their legs craned out to rest on the coffee table, a set on either side of you. You’re watching them out of your line of view, but when Makki’s head cranes back over the couch to look at the man to your left, you lose track of them.

They’re bickering, you can tell. Issei keeps breathing out little laughs and Makki’s making obscene hand gestures, shaking the cushions when he tries to reach behind you and smack him.

It’s the fifth time the couch jerks that you groan, pushing yourself back upright to break them up.

“Can you not?” you groan. “I’m trying to finish the movie?”

“I’ll stop when he admits I’m not a shit kisser.”

“Too much tongue, babe.”

“I was drunk!”

You swallow. “You’re probably both good kissers, okay? Settle it at that.”

They quiet after that.

The room gets quiet, save for the wind coming through the window and the movie playing still. There’s a steady picking on fraying cushion behind you, no doubt from Makki’s antsy hand.

“You think we’re both good?” Issei prods.

“Sure. Whatever floats your guys’ boats.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“How would I know, Issei?”

The three of you— you’re close enough friends by now that silence is rarely awkward, but you’re not dumb. You know what hole you just dug.

Dig your grave and lie in it, or whatever.

“You wanna find out, then?” he asks, maybe a little quieter if you’re paying close attention.

Makki is hot against your other side, leaning ahead to see the both of you as good as he can. You slink back a little into the sofa— you’re in deep literally and metaphorically.

Issei slips his hand up your leg, watching your lips part the second he sets his eyes on yours. It stays on the backside, coming back up to skip over your ass, resting on your back.

His other hand is hot on the side of your face, tilting your chin up so you’re almost touching him.

“Can I show you something?”

You huff a quick breath, and nod even quicker.

Issei takes you whole, it doesn’t feel like just a kiss. It’s not just lips, even though it starts that way— it’s a graze of his teeth against your jaw before he steals your breath away that makes you slump down the couch, an exchange of power that gives your all to him.

He’s languid and slow, tongue taunting yours and his hand dauntingly large on your side. Makki’s slips beneath his and then under your sweater, nails scratching beneath your navel as they span over your skin.

You forget to breathe. He tastes like espresso and a good time. You lose track of whose hands are which. You don’t know anyone but them. You forget any other lips who have ever tasted yours.

When you reach up into his hair, knotting your knuckles in his curls, Makki takes the back of your neck and pulls you back. You’re looking at Issei, but he doesn’t look mad.

He’s smiling. You blink. You’re looking at Makki, now, and he’s smiling too.

“My turn?” He says it like a question. He might be saying it like he’s begging.

Makki moves so he’s just about on top of you, coming from above when you lean your head back to see him from below. He’s quicker than Issei, hard against your teeth and against your thigh, dizzying in how he pushes and pulls, rutting against you like he’s always wanted this.

Issei tugs your leg over his, smoothing his hand up the inside of it, skipping over where you’re too sheepish to say you want it.

It rests on your stomach, fingertips dipping beneath your waistband as Makki groans so low it vibrates in your throat. They’re playing give and take with you, back and forth like magnets, closing in and giving you space again like a corset.

Issei’s hand cups your chest and Makki’s rests on your throat. You’re being swallowed whole, and all you want them to do is spit you up and do it all over again.

Then, the storm breaks, and when you come to, they’re starry-eyed and staring at you.

“What?” you gasp.

You turn your head back and forth, looking between them like you’re checking your blind spots. You still think somethings gonna come out of nowhere and hit you; bring you back to reality.

“Nothing,” Issei shrugs. But, he leans back. “Do you wanna stay overnight? Save you a drive in the dark.”

They surround you. They encapsulate you differently, like smoke and water. You’re hot and all too aware of the things you’d say yes to.

Makki’s fingers burn against your shoulder, dragging the collar of your top down your collarbone as you nod.

Issei grins, cheshire and warm. “Mm, good.”

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Faking It | Jeon Jungkook | Chapter One

Summary: Being divorced by the time you're thirty isn't the best feeling in the world but what happens when your parents find someone from your past that's in a similar boat? Pairing: f!reader (30) x Single Dad Jungkook (33) (Arranged Marriage Slow Burn?) Word Count: 11.3k (oh man holy shit) Warnings: Troubles with conceiving/seeing pregnancies to full term, Jungkook's first wife passed away in childbirth. (These themes will be spoken about throughout the fic and I will add extra warnings when need be in future chapters) a/n: Okay this one is gonna be a long one (in terms of chapter length, idk how many parts there will be) I'm really really in love with this story line so I hope you'll come along this cute, silly, awkward, heartwarming and heartbreaking journey with me 🥰 p.s. I've been brainstorming with @kkusadmirer (ofc 🤭) about this fic for a while now and I've just fallen in love with these characters too much that I had to get at least one part out. Okay okay enough from me. I hope you enjoy! (barely edited per usual I'm sry 😅)

"You should start dating again" my mom says to me, a dinner with a table for two this time since she said she wanted to talk to me about something important. If I would've known it was to nag me about something like this again I would've declined the invitation.

"Mom I already told you, I just got divo-" "You got divorced last year" she cuts me off and I sigh, knowing I'll probably get no where with this argument but continue on nevertheless.

"Point being, it hasn't been that long since Robert and I got divorced. I need time and space to figure out what I want out of life. I'm not interested in rushing into another marriage just for it to fail again" I explain and she simply downs the rest of her champagne in response, polishing it off in record time.

"You don't want to end up an old maid who didn't give me any grandchildren do you?" she says, repeating the same old argument again. "Mom I'm thirty, not forty five. I still have plenty of time to worry about babies and getting married again" I argue and she rolls her eyes before asking for another glass when the waiter passes by.

"You should at least try. Don't you like going out on dates?" she asks and I sigh, hating having this conversation over and over again.

"Dating was fun in my twenties but now that I'm more interested in finding someone to settle down with, it seems like all the guys that are remotely my age and happen to be decent human beings are already married" I explain and watch how she immediately takes her glass of champagne off the table once it's placed in front of her.

I'm glad she's drinking because having this conversation with her when she's sober is even more painful.

"You're exaggerating honey. I'm sure there is a fine young man just waiting for you around the corner" but before I'm able to respond to her, her eyes suddenly light up and she quickly gets out of her seat.

"Is it really you?" she says and another woman around her age that I've never seen before comes up to greet her. "How are you? It's been so long!" the mystery woman says and they quickly share an embrace before she turns to face me.

"And who is this beautiful young woman here with you?" she asks, making me shy away from them. "Oh this is my daughter y/n. Y/n this is Mrs. Jeon" she introduces us and tells me all about how they used to go to college together.

"Oh wow I think I remember my mom mentioning you before. You used to come over when I was little right?" I question, now remembering seeing her face in some of the pictures in my baby album.

"That's right! Little Jungkook and I used to come visit you all the time when you were just a teeny tiny little thing. You were the easiest baby I've ever come across, always sleeping and when you woke up you were as happy as can be" she rambles and I get a warm feeling in my chest, loving to have met someone who clearly cared so deeply for my mother and I.

"Who's Jungkook" I ask, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Jungkook is my son, he's just a few years older than you. I remember he was so fascinated by you, always wanting to come over and would watch over you as you slept, never causing a fuss as long as you were around" she says and I blush at the fact that her son would care about me just as much if not more than she does.

"How is he? Is he doing alright?" my mother asks and Mrs. Jeon gets a somber look on her face eyes fluttering to the floor before responding.

"Actually, he lost his wife a few years ago. She passed away after she gave birth to their daughter" she mumbles and I feel my chest tighten up at the thought of someone so young losing their life to something that is supposed to be so beautiful.

"My condolences to you all" I say, my eyes going glossy and she smiles in return, the memory bringing a tear to her eye as well. "Thank you love, that's very kind of you" she says, placing a hand on my shoulder before she clears her throat and blinks back her tears, wanting to put on a brave face in public.

"Why don't you come visit us at our home tomorrow evening? I would love to catch up and it would be good if the kids got reacquainted again" my mother suggests and I glare at her, knowing exactly what she's doing but also knowing there's no way I could stop her. 

"I would love that! Our husbands might enjoy catching up too since they used to get along so well" Mrs. Jeon points out. "Then it's settled! How would you feel about making it a dinner instead?" my mother questions, digging us deeper into this evening we'll all be spending together. "I think that sounds perfect!" she agrees and I tune out the rest of the conversation, already trying to mentally prepare myself for the scheming I know my mother has planned.

~~~~

Kicking off my shoes and walking into my apartment I'm greeted by the serene sound of silence. 

My black tuxedo cat meows as he jumps down from his cat tower and stretches for a second before coming over to greet me. "Hi Salem" I say, scooping him up and carrying him with me into my bedroom where I plop him down in the middle of my bed. "Mom only invited me to dinner because she wanted to tell me to start dating again" I relay to him, while I walk around my room, grabbing all the things I'll need to get ready for bed.

"I should've known she was up to something when she decided to invite me out on a random Wednesday night to go to my favorite restaurant. If the previous glances I had of the totals on those receipts didn't clue me in enough I don't know what would" I say in disbelief, having convinced myself hours earlier that it might've been about something good instead of another chance to nag me about something.

"I don't know why I even bother sometimes. She just has this worst case scenario mindset that I'm going to die alone and not leave a legacy. I understand that I'm their only child but with the way she talks, you would think I was well into my forties already" I say, verbally processing to him while he curls up into a ball, his eyes watch me walk back and forth until I walk into the en-suite bathroom to turn on the shower.

"Thanks for always listening to me Salem" I say, walking back over to him and scratching his head, "Don't know what I would do without you" I mumble before walking back over to the bathroom and closing the door.

Looking in the mirror I study my features, my hair styled just how I like it, my brows perfectly shaped but when I get to my eyes I notice it. I notice why my mother has gotten so worried about me.

It's as if the light's gone out of them. It's more than just 'Hey it's been a long day and I'm tired' no it's 'I don't even know what I'm doing here anymore' and for the first time, I admit to myself that I truly feel that way.

I reach for my cleanser and quickly wash off the little makeup that I still have on, lips completely plain and gone back to their natural color and some how my cheeks don't seem to be as rosy anymore after I had made sure to put on some more blush today to bring some color back to my face. Maybe it's not the makeup that's been washing me out, but the way that I've been living.

I will admit my days consist of going to work and coming home and doing that same thing over and over again. I don't really go out much and I only have a few friends but ever since I got divorced I just end up politely declining any sort of invitation I get from them. Doesn't matter if it's dinner or drinks or clubbing or even just a shopping trip.

I just can't get myself wanting to do anything anymore.

I step into the shower and I flinch slightly at the burning sensation the hot water brings to me but adjust it and step further under the stream once it's just to my liking. While going though my shower routine mindlessly I start trying to get to the bottom of what has got me living like this.

Robert wasn't the best husband in the world, mainly because he cheated on me but before that things were good between us. He made me laugh and was a perfect gentleman that always made me feel special and when we got married I swear I thought I couldn't be happier. 

It felt like my life was falling into place, our life.

Until it wasn't.

I'm knocked out of my train of thought when I hear Salem pawing at the door and remember now that in my whirl winded state of mind I forgot to feed him. "Sorry Salem I'll be right out!" I call out for him and he meows in response. I swear that cat is more intelligent than I am most days.

I finish up my uninteresting night as I always do, turning out the lights and cuddling up with Salem until I eventually fall asleep but it took a little longer tonight. Thoughts full of what my future might look like if I don't start living instead of just existing. 

As the 'what ifs' plague my mind they eventually drown themselves out as that same welcoming feeling of calm finally lulls me to sleep. 

~~~~~~

"Hurry up they're almost here" my mother says, yanking me inside the house before I even have a chance to knock on the front door. "Nice to see you too mom" I say under my breath and she's wound up so tight it doesn't even phase her. I can tell she's been working hard to make sure everything is perfect once the Jeons arrive.

"Did you get that wine I told you to get?" she questions, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the wine bottle carrier in my hand, quickly taking it and rushing into the kitchen. "Yeah no problem mom you're welcome" I say, talking to the air in front of me still waiting for her to show any sign of gratitude.

"Go place your things in your old room so they're out of the way" she call out, leaving me sighing and trudging off to do as she says.

Once I retrace my steps and walk past the door to go to join her in the kitchen I'm stopped in my tracks when the doorbell rings.

"Oh honey can you get that? My hands are tied here" my mom yells and I take a deep breath in and out before doing just that.

"Hello y/n! It's so nice to see you again" Mrs. Jeon greets me as I step aside and let them in, soon after her is her husband who holds out his hand in greeting. "It's been quiet a long time hasn't it? I remember when you use to be-" "Grandpa! Grandpa! I wanna meet the pretty lady too!" a little girl no older than five years old says, walking around her grandfather's legs to get to me, greeting me with the most adorable bunny smile.

"And now who might this be?" I ask, already melting into a puddle from seeing how absolutely adorable she is. "I'm Juni" she laughs when I go down to her level. "Well it's very nice to meet you Juni and how old are you?" I ask and she lights up when I continue taking an interest in her. "I'm four! Well Daddy says I'm turning five soon but it feels like it's taking forever. Right Daddy?" she says and looks back towards the man now left standing in the doorway.

"That's right Juni" he responds and the deep tenor of his voice sends a slight shiver down my spine, so full of love and admiration that is obvious to anyone who might come across the pair. "Oh!" I say, quickly straightening back up to meet this mysterious Jungkook and my throat goes dry once I've laid eyes on him.

Tall, strong build, dark brown hair that's well taken care of and styled perfectly, strong jawline accompanied by the contrast of the softest look in his brown almost black galaxy eyes that are still focused on his beautiful daughter.

"I'm sorry" I say but he shakes his head before he turns his head in my direction, taking in the sight of me as well before speaking. "That's alright, Juni kind of grabs everyone's attention right away" he says giving me a soft smile. "I'm Jungkook" he says, holding his hand out to me. "Y/n" I say shyly and shake it, his hands being much larger than mine is comforting in a way.

"My mom told me we used to come see you when we still lived here" he says once we let go, Juni now quietly watching our exchange. "Used to?" I question, curious to know more about why our mothers had lost touch. "We went back to our hometown for a while and then moved back to the city soon after Juni was born" he says and I nod my head, accepting that as an answer for now but wanting to know more.

"Sounds like I was just an infant though so I don't really have any memory of it" I admit while rocking back and forth on my heels, a nervous habit I've picked up over the years. "It's alright, I didn't expect you to remember" he chuckles, "I was only three so I don't remember much of it either" we laugh at his returned confession and a more comfortable air settles between us.

"Well it's nice to finally meet you" I say and he nods his head. "Likewise" he replies and we stand there for a moment, not really knowing where to go from here then, thankfully Juni breaks the silence.

"Daddy I wanna talk to the pretty lady" she says and grabs my hand and pulls me away from him. "Be nice Juni" he warns and she pouts, leaving me crouching down to her level and tilting my head to meet her gaze. "There's enough of me to go around little one. Don't worry" I say, booping her on the nose and making her giggle again.

Jungkook walks in a bit more and closes the door behind him, watching our little exchange before my mother comes out to check on us.

"Y/n why don't you take Jungkook and..." she says trailing off, not having learned his daughter's name yet. "Juni" Jungkook says and my mother smiles at the sound of the adorable name. "Jungkook and Juni outside. I'm sure she'd love to run around a little bit before dinner is ready" she suggests and I agree while Juni starts jumping up and down, excited to explore an unfamiliar place.

Jungkook follows closely behind as I lead the way but I ultimately end up getting dragged along by Juni who is surprisingly perceptive and has already mapped out the door that we'll be going through. "Come on Daddy keep up!" she calls after him once we've reached the door, looking back and seeing that he's fallen behind.

"I'm right behind you Juni" Jungkook chuckles and once we step outside Juni lets go and runs back and forth all around the yard, looking at anything and everything she can find.

"Be careful!" I say, worried that she could hurt herself but Jungkook comes over and stands next to me and reassures me she'll be fine.

"It's alright, if she gets hurt it'll be a little reminder to pay attention to what she's doing next time. That's the only way kids really learn right?" he says turning towards me, granting me with a soft smile, almost as if he's looking for validation on his parenting choice.

"Of course," I respond, returning the smile, "even some adults need to crash and burn before they learn their lesson sometimes" I point out and it makes him relax a bit more, thankful to see that he's right in his dealings with situations like this.

"She's a good kid" I say after leading him over to the patio set we have out here so we can sit down and watch her. "Thanks, it's been difficult raising her on my own so I'm never really sure if I'm doing a good job or not" he admits and I nod my head, taking a second to think about my response since it's a sensitive subject.

"I can tell that you love her very much so I have no doubt in my mind that you'll always do right by her" and I can tell that my words bring him a sense of comfort. Being a single parent can be extremely difficult especially when you lose the love of your life as soon as you become a father. 

I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

"Y/n?" I hear him call out and realize that my mind had drifted off for a second. "I'm sorry what did you say?" I say, my cheeks heating up from having been caught daydreaming. "I asked if you had any children of your own" he chuckles and I again try to figure out the best way to word this but figure the best way to go about it is to be honest. 

I've got no reason to hide from him.

"No, I got divorced last year and my ex husband and I were never able to have children" I say, looking down at my lap, embarrassed to have admitted it but also feeling a certain weight lifted off my shoulders.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know" he trails off and I panic, realizing I might've made him feel uncomfortable, telling him something so personal so soon. "No don't be, I honestly dodged a bullet with that one" I chuckle, hoping to lighten the situation a bit which thankfully it does as I see his body relax a bit.

"Our relationship had been on the rocks soon after we got married and I don't think we were a good match for each other so I think it was the universe's way of doing me a favor in making us somewhat biologically incompatible" I chuckle and he softly does the same.

"Biologically incompatible" he questions, a deeper meaning obviously hidden behind those words. "We both got checked out and everything looked completely fine but I guess it wasn't meant to be, thank God" I sigh, sincerely thanking whoever might've been in charge of making that executive decision for us.

"I'm not exactly sure what to say to that but I'm glad it worked out?" he states almost as if it was a question and I laugh, in response hoping I can recover this incredibly awkward conversation. "I'm sorry, that was a huge overshare that I probably should've kept to myself" I say, clearing my throat in hopes it would aid in clearing the peculiar air that had settled between us.

"You have nothing to apologize for, I asked and I feel honored that you felt comfortable enough to be so transparent with your answer" he says, the warmth in his tone giving me an ache in my chest. How could someone be so kind to someone they've just met? It's as if I could tell him anything and he would listen to me as if I was the only person in the world.

"Daddy!" 'Well me and Juni', I say to myself and watch as his attention now shifts to his daughter who is running up behind me. "Daddy look!" Juni says, holding out her hands that are now thoroughly caked in mud but hold a rock that is almost a perfectly shaped heart in the center of her palm. "Oh Juni" Jungkook chuckles, the ends of her dress now matching the state of her hands and neither Jungkook nor I can hold in our laughter.

"That's a very beautiful rock Juni! You're so clever" I say and I can see a sense of pride straighten her posture a little bit. "Juni your beautiful dress" Jungkook chuckles, clearly not minding but also trying to figure out what to do. "I'm sorry Daddy" she say, that pride slowly dwindling after seeing the mess she's made of herself.

"Hey Juni" I say, turning her attention back to me and I can see her spirits lift a little. "Would you like to see some of the clothes that I used to wear when I was your age?" I ask and her eyes light up at the thought. "Did you wear pretty dresses too?" she asks, clearly excited about seeing more new things. Her childlike wonderment makes my heart ache. Must run in the family.

"I did, but none of them were as pretty as yours. If you like, you can borrow one of mine while we wash this one" I suggest and the way her head nods up and down so fast makes me chuckle.

"Let's go to my room then! Hopefully we can find something you'll like" I say, standing up and straightening my dress while Jungkook reaches out for Juni's foot.

"Let's take your shoes off before we go back inside baby. We wouldn't want to track any mud into the pretty lady's house right?" Jungkook says, flashing a soft smile at me before looking back down to complete his intended task and Juni complies right away. 

My breath hitches as he purposefully uses the nickname Juni had given me and I quickly walk past them and open the door to go inside, trying to clear my head for a second, willing myself to keep it together.  

"Are you coming with us?" Juni asks and he nods his head, "I gotta go clean your shoes off first though" he says and I walk all three of us over to the bathroom so Jungkook can do just that as well as wash Juni's hands off.

"Wow!" is the first word that comes out of her mouth when we walk into the butterfly themed bedroom, mesmerizing her from the first glance. "Your room is so pretty!" she says, quickly running around here and there, being careful not to get too close since we haven't gotten a chance to change her dress yet.

"You like it?" I question and she's quick to nod her head again. "I wish my room looked like this" she says, spying all of the little butterfly details from the dainty embroidering on the bedspread to the knobs on the dresser, all of them working in harmony.

"We can go look for some butterfly stuff next time we go to the store if you'd like" Jungkook says while he walks into the room and right up to her while she stares up at the ceiling where there are a couple scattered across it. Nothing is too over the top but there is clearly a theme going on that she is captivated by.

"Really?" she asks, confirmation of what he's said being important to make sure she's hear him right. "Promise" he says holding out his pinky that she quickly wraps her's around as best as she can with her little ones being so tiny in comparison to his. She looks at the two of us before beckoning Jungkook to come closer so she can whisper something in his ear.

"Can the pretty lady come with us too?" she 'whispers' in his ear almost as loud as her speaking voice and I try to hold back my laughter, pretending like I didn't hear a thing. "Why don't you ask her?" he whispers and when he leans back she looks him in the eyes and he nods to further encourage her.

"Um, would you like to go shopping with us to get butterflies for my room too?" she asks, walking up to me shyly. Jungkook looks at me with a soft smile and I notice how the tips of his ears have almost gotten a little pink, his expression soft and charming but his body still showing tell tale signs of nervousness.

"Sure Juni, I'd love to go shopping with you" I say and she giggles in response while running back to her Daddy. "Can we go right now?" she asks jumping up and down. "We'll go another time don't worry baby, we've gotta set up a time so the pretty lady can go with us too right?" he reminds her and although she's sad she has to wait she nods in agreement. "Good, now let's get you out of this so we can make you all nice and clean again" he says, unzipping the back of her dress and revealing the cute little white tank top and tights that she wore under it.

I focus my attention on opening up the closet and grabbing a couple of dresses out for her to choose from. "These ones should fit. Which one would you like to wear Juni?" I say and her eyes flitter back and forth between all of them before giving her a Daddy a devious smile and hugging them to her chest. "I want all of them" she giggles and my heart melts, thinking about how fun it would be if I had a daughter just like her.

"Pick one Juni" Jungkook chuckles and she pulls back flipping through the selection I've made before her eyes light up and find the one she's dying to wear. "This one, this one!" she says, lightly holding onto the skirt and jumping up and down. I shift my grasp on them and hold out the one she chose for Jungkook to take and once he does there a static jolt of electricity that shocks us leaving the both of us pulling away slightly.

"Sorry it's probably from all the fabric of the dresses" I explain and he smiles in response. "Don't worry about it. A little spark never hurt anyone" he says and it's almost as if his voice had dropped a bit with that remark, leaving me widening my eyes a bit before turning back around and placing the dresses back in the closet. 

Why does he make me so nervous?

"Lady, lady look!" I hear from behind, and watch as Juni turns this way and that once Jungkook has finished putting the dress on her. "My goodness Juni don't you look adorable!" I say and she runs up to the the mirror in the corner of the room, watching the skirt swish this way and that. "Say thank you Ms y/n" Jungkook says, correcting Juni and finally telling her my name. She sounded too cute calling me 'the pretty lady' I just didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

"Thank you Ms y/n!" she says, running up to me and wrapping her arms around my legs since she is still  too small to reach anywhere else. "You're welcome Juni" I say, smiling down at her and smoothing her hair down. "Remember Juni, we're just borrowing it so we can wash your dress. We have to give it back to Ms. y/n before we leave" Jungkook says and I can see her excitement dwindle a bit but is no less thankful for being able to wear it tonight.

"Thank you for letting me borrow it Ms. y/n!" she says and I smile again, falling more and more in love with this adorable little girl with every smile she graces me with. "You're welcome" I say and she lets go of me and twirls around in it before stopping.

"Oh! I promise to be really careful and keep this one clean" she says holding out her pinky to do just as she had done with her father moments ago and I kneel down to her level and do just that before booping her on the nose causing another fit of giggles to spill out of her.

"Y/n, dinner is ready" my mother says while poking her head around the corner and I can tell she is completely satisfied by the scene that she's walked in on. "Oh Juni what a beautiful dress!" my mother says, noticing it right away, remembering it was one of my favorites. "Ms y/n gave it to me!" she says, swishing around in it again before doing a full twirl for us.

"Well aren't you the most darling little girl I've ever seen! Are you ready to eat? I heard that mashed potatoes are one of your favorite foods right?" my mom says, holding out her hand for Juni to take and she gladly does.

"Did my grandma tell you that?" she asks, clearly surprised that this complete stranger already knew something about her. "Yes she did. I hope you like them!" my mom says and Juni rushes down the hallway dragging my mom behind her. "Juni be careful!" Jungkook calls out to her but my mom just laughs it off.

"Why don't you show Jungkook where the laundry room is so you can put her dress in the washer" my mom offers up and I nod my head and look up at him. "That's okay I can just wash it when we get home" he says, politely declining the offer. "It's alright, it's best to wash it right away so it doesn't stain" I say, holding out my hand for the dress and he smiles before handing it to me and following my lead.

"You have a lovely home" he says shyly, looking this way and that taking notice of the small details just as Juni did. 'Like father like daughter' I think to myself. "It was my childhood home as you could probably tell from my old room" I say and he hums in response as I stop at the door to the laundry room.

"I know Juni is never going to stop talking about it" he chuckles and I smile at the loving tone that is always present in his voice whenever he speaks about her. We stand there in silence for a bit while I gather the various cleaning products I'll need.

"If you like, I can show you how to get stains like this out? If there was ever a day when I was her age that I didn't get some sort of dirt, mud or grass stains on my clothes my mother would write that down as a national holiday" I say and he laughs at that before accepting the offer.

"Sure, I'd like that" for some reason I can't seem to find the right words so I simply turn around and rinse off the mud in the little sink we have in here. "Do you think you could get that one for me?" I ask, nodding toward one of the stain removers. He wordlessly does as I ask and helps apply a drop or two of it to each of the areas I point out.

"I could've done that" he says now realizing how he's just standing there watching me clean his daughter's dress. "No, that's okay I offered!" I say, reassuring him that I don't mind. I wordlessly ask for the next stain remover before rubbing it in and ringing out the excess water. He opens up the washer lid for me and I toss it in and look this way and that for the laundry detergent.

"Looking for this?" he asks, pulling it off the shelf above the washer. "See, that's a perk of living on my own now. I don't have to worry about things being up too high for me anymore" I chuckle and quickly scoop in the appropriate amount and start the washer.

"Well let me know if you ever need anyone to get something that's out of your reach, it's one of the perks of being tall" he jokes and I laugh but almost shy away from the fact that he expects to see me again. "So I've heard" I say and try to put the detergent back on my own but it soon tips back over and is close to crashing down until he catches it, which in turn ends with him trapping me between him and the washer.

He slides the detergent back in it's spot and takes half a step back, giving me the smallest bit of space. "Why didn't you let me help you? I was standing right here?" he asks, tilting his head at me. "I don't know, I guess I'm just used to doing things on my own now" I chuckle awkwardly. "Well hopefully you'll get used to letting me help you soon" he says, finally taking another step back and giving me a bit more space to breathe.

"Sorry about that" I apologize awkwardly, leaning my back against the washer now with him leaning up against the wall directly in front of me and giving me a crooked smile. "Don't apologize, there's nothing wrong with being independent" he says and quickly scans my body but he does it so fast that if I would've blinked I would've missed it.

"Daddy it's time for dinner" Juni says, her soft steps not having been heard by either of us over the sound of the washer, breaking us out of the little moment that we had been having. "Okay Juni we're coming" he chuckles and holds out his hand for her to take but she giggles and dodges it, reaching for mine instead.

I squeeze past Jungkook as this little room is only wide enough for one person to walk through and the front of our bodies brush up against each other only for a moment until she's tugged me halfway out the door. "Let's be a train Daddy! Grab onto Ms. y/n's hand so you can be the caboose!" she says, turning this trip down the hallway into a game.

"Oh that's okay sweetie why don't you-" he starts but I hold out my hand for him to take, him only having refused for my sake, not wanting to make me uncomfortable with any unwanted skinship. "Grab on Daddy!" Juni giggles and I look up at him and see that he's looking down at me. He chuckles before grabbing onto my hand and the both of us are soon trailing behind Juni as she drags us to the dining room.

Once we get to the dinner table Juni lets go of my hand and runs back to where Jungkook's mom is so she can continue to help her eat her mashed potatoes. 

When everyone notices that Jungkook and I have arrived, we're greeted with four sets of eyes, all of them extremely happy to see us. It's then when I realize that we were still holding hands so I gently slide mine out of his, almost wishing I didn't have to.

He looks down at where our hands had been connected when I do and I can almost see that he's also disappointed that I let go but his expression is quickly replaced by an awkward smile aimed at our parents. 

When I look at the table I see that Jungkook and I are meant to sit directly across from each other. Which I'm sure is another one of my mother's ploys to get us to keep glancing up at each other, this time though I don't really mind.

When I go to walk to one side to sit down next to Mr. Jeon, Jungkook follows right behind me. 

"Oh did you want to sit on this side?" I ask him and he shakes his head, "No, I just wanted to pull your chair out for you" he says and I feel butterflies in my stomach. "Oh, okay" I say quietly and watch as he does just that and slides the chair in behind me once I've sat down. "Thank you" I reply, smiling up at him and he does so in return before rounding the table to take a seat in his place.

"So y/n, your mother told us that you work in photography, is that right?" she asks and I take a drink of water before responding. "Well not really, I've done a few freelance jobs here and there. Enough to keep me afloat so to say but I hope to do it full time soon!" I say and I see Jungkook perk up at that.

"Jungkook has always loved photography as well! He's always been tinkering away with cameras since he was just a few years older than Juni" his mother says while Jungkook cleans off Juni's face as it seems like she's gotten more food on her face than in her mouth.

"What subject do you usually shoot?" I ask, curious to see where his interests lie. "Mostly editorial, but I tend to enjoy the shoots a lot more when they have to do with nature. I believe beauty can be found in almost anything so I tend to just capture whatever inspires me at the moment" he says, his answer being very similar to mine.

"I feel the same way" I respond simply before shying away from the topic as I feel our parents are studying our interaction.

Once they notice the silence they decide to pick up the conversation just throwing facts about Jungkook and I back and forth, pretty much doing the getting to know you game for us without giving us much room to get a word in edgewise. Which leaves the both of us to just follow the conversation and occasionally making eye contact when either side makes a slightly embarrassing comment.

"Hey Dad" Jungkook calls out to his father over the never ending conversation they're having about us. "How's that new project at work going?" he says and I can already tell that it's one of those kinds of topics that once you get him started on it he won't stop and that's just the case as we now watch the conversation take a turn that is thankfully so far off from the two of us.

As time ticks by and the subjects change a few more times I notice that Jungkook has started to get up and clear the table to which I jump up in response to help him.

"Oh Jungkook don't worry about that I can do it later" my mother says but he shakes his head. "It's the least I could do after you've provided this wonderful dinner for my family and I" he says and I can almost see my mother swooning from his response. "Well thank you very much, sweetie can you show him where to place them, just next to the sink is fine" she says to me and I nod, looking up at him and nodding my head towards the direction of the kitchen.

Once we've gone there and back from the table a few times I decide to just start loading up the dishwasher, trying to escape that mortifying conversation for as long as I can. "I brought your glass for you. Wasn't sure if you were planning to finish it or not" he says, walking over and placing my wine glass on the counter next to me. "Thanks" I say quietly, neither of us having said a word to each other since the very beginning of that dinner.

"Your parents are really sweet" he says, breaking the ice and clearly acknowledging how obvious they all were about their motives. "Yours too. I'm sorry about tonight" I say and his brows furrow, clearly not understanding why I would need to apologize. "I knew my mom would end up doing something like this but once her mind is made up there's no stopping her" I admit and he gives me a crooked smile in response.

"Don't worry, I knew what all of them were up to too. My mother was praising you so much and telling me how beautiful and smart and respectful you are so I had an inkling that this was their plan all along" he says and I turn away from him, trying to hide my flustered expression.

"She's right you know" he says, coming around to stand next to me, leaning against the counter while I face it, cleaning up the inside of the sink and grabbing the towel next to me to dry my hands.

"Right about what?" I question, now turning to face him and noticing just how close he's gotten. "About how beautiful you are" he says and I have to blink a few times, trying to figure out why this incredibly handsome man in my kitchen is flirting with me.

I just wanna thank past me because whatever I did in my last life must've been incredible if I'm being offered up a man as remarkable as he is.

"I-" I start but am soon interrupted by my mom walking in on us. "Y/n could you- oh! I'm sorry, as you were" she says, taking small backward steps out of the kitchen, keeping hers eyes on the two of us before turning around to walk back to the living room that they had moved to.

"I'm sorry about her" I say, taking a drink of my wine but he laughs it off. "It's alright, I don't mind" he says watching me with curious eyes as I polish off the rest of it. "Juni has taken a real liking to you" he says and my heart melts at the sound of her name.

"Really? She's probably the happiest child I've ever seen. I really like her too" I say and he smiles, no doubts memories over the years flashing through his head.

"You've done a really good job raising her Jungkook" I say, and his eyes flutter back to mine, this time being the first time I've spoken his name and it looks as if just that alone brought him so much satisfaction. "Thank you y/n" he says, and I feel my heart flutter, the deep baritone of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

"Daddy can I have some cake?" we hear as Juni walks into the kitchen, "Can I have some cake..." Jungkook says, trailing off and waiting for those magic words. "Please?" she says, realizing what he had been getting at.

"Sure baby, Ms. y/n and I will bring it out in a second okay?" he says making her smile as she runs out of the kitchen "Thank you" she calls out over her shoulder leaving the two of us laughing at her enthusiasm.

"That's probably what my mom was coming in to ask us for" I say and he nods in agreement, helping me carry everything out so we can all have a slice of the small cake my mom had gotten for tonight. "How much you want to bet that they sent Juni looking for us earlier too?" he whispers to me as we make our way over to where everyone else has gathered. "You might be right about that one" I whisper back, quickly catching onto all of their little games.

After setting the cake and all of the plates and forks down on the coffee table my mom takes on the task of cutting it up and serving it, with the very first piece going to little Miss Juni. "Thank you!" she says, eyes wide as saucers leaving all of us cooing at her. "Eat slow Juni" Jungkook reminds her, no doubt having troubles with her eating her desserts too quickly.

I take on the task of helping my mother hand out the slices and once I give one to Jungkook I finally notice that the only empty seat is right next to him and he looks down at it before looking back up at me in a silent invitation to sit down and I take it cautiously.

The couch that we're sitting on is kind of a love seat ironically, seeing as the whole theme of tonight is trying to set us up with each other.

Once I've sat down I realize that I've sat right next to him to the point of where my shoulder ended up bumping into his. "Oh! I'm sorry" I say, scooting away from him but with the size of the couch I don't really end up moving all that much. "It's okay I don't mind" he says, before taking a bite of his cake and turning to face the rest of the group.

The seven of us continue talking and talking until we notice that Juni has fallen asleep in her grandma's lap. "Here mom let me take her" Jungkook says, standing up but both my mom and his stand up and wave him off. "That's okay, we're just gonna go put her down in y/n's room" my mom says and before he's able to say otherwise they've disappeared down the hallway.

"Does she have school tomorrow?" I ask once he's settled back down. "No, she's on spring break right now until next Monday" he relays and I nod my head. "And what about you? Do you work tomorrow?" I ask and he gives me a shy smile before responding. "I had a shoot scheduled in the morning but we went ahead and pushed it to the afternoon so I don't have to worry about going home anytime soon" he says and my heart skips a beat.

"No, I mean, well I don't want to keep you for too long. You probably have other things you'd like to get done tonight?" I ask and he shakes his head. "No, this is the only thing I have planned for the night so I guess you're stuck with me" he chuckles. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I wanted you to leave I just-"

"It's okay I know what you meant" he laughs and I now take notice that we're the only ones left in the room. "Oh! Where did my dad go?" I ask, my eyes darting this way and that, not even being able to hear his voice.

"I think I heard something about them setting up the fire pit? I'm not sure but he's outside with my dad right now" he says and I spy both of them looking through the glass door before quickly ducking out of view once they realize they've been spotted.

"Maybe we should head out there" I say but he cuts off that thought by asking me a question that keeps me frozen on the spot. 

"Is there a reason why you don't want to be alone with me?" he asks, arm now having been draped around the back of the couch a while ago, completely unknown to me making this all seem a lot more intimate than before.

"Who said that?" I chuckle nervously, clearing my throat before sinking back into my seat. "You just did" he says, nodding towards me and I feel like I want to crawl in a hole and die. I thought I could escape this night without being awkward like this but I guess not.

"You trying to get rid of me?" he teases and I shake my head right away, "No I'm sorry I just-" "It's okay, I'm only joking" he says and I laugh nervously. "So why don't you tell me about yourself?" he says, giving me the most open ended question ever and I scramble to find something but I just can't seem to come up with anything interesting enough to mention.

"Well, my parents pretty much said everything there is to know about me over dinner earlier" I say and he shakes his head. "I want to hear something about you from you. Like what are some of your hope, your dreams, something you're passionate about" he says, being a little more specific this time.

"My dreams?" I trail off, thinking for a second and he watches me as I wrack my brain for something notable. "It's kind of silly" I admit once I've settled on something. "Good thing I've got a sense of humor" he replies, trying to encourage me to continue. 

"Well, I've always wanted one of my photos to be on the cover of TIME magazine" I admit and see his eyes light up. "I have a similar dream" he says and my eyes widen in surprise turning my body to face him, wordlessly asking him to share his too. 

"I'd like one of mine to end up on the cover of National Geographic" he relays and I smile in turn. "That would be perfect for you! Well, since the subject you love to capture the most is nature I could definitely see your work fitting right in!" I say, excited to see someone else who's trying to aim as high as I am.

"And I could see yours being a shoe in for TIME as well" he says, and I shy away from his praise. "Okay and what's something you're passionate about, and don't say photography" he says, interrupting me causing me to slump down, having to take another second to come up with an answer. 

He chuckles a bit at my reaction and I glare at him causing him to smile at me even more so look up to the celling as if it had the answers to something interesting about me. 

"Well, I really love reading. I know it might not seem like a passion but when I read a really good book and I find someone who has read it or will at least let me talk about it it's as if I gain a boost of energy and can't contain my excitement. That's definitely the nerdy side of me showing but that's all I can really think of at the moment" I say honestly and when I look back at him it's as if he thought I was the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. 

"Sorry, I think I got a little carried away there" I say, getting shy from being looked at like that, his soft gaze an expression I'm not used to, especially from someone I just met. "Um, your turn" I say, hoping to get some of the spotlight off of me. 

"I know this might be cheating but I do enjoy taking video and editing them. Even if it were as simple as filming Juni for an afternoon, it's something that if given the chance, would be something I could be extremely passionate about" he says and although it is cheating since it's somewhat similar to photography, I'll let it slide. 

"Have you thought about switching up your profession to include video as well as pictures?" I ask and he nods before answering. "I have but I haven't taken enough time to seriously consider it. Juni is still young and I want to make sure I have a stable income in order to take care of her and if I'm being honest I feel almost as if a career change could jeopardize that" he says and I watch him with the same intent that he had given me and he too seems to shy away from it. 

"It's silly since it would probably be a seamless transition but I can't help but feel reservations towards it" he says and I place my hand on top of his that's in his lap. 

"It's normal for a parent to worry about providing for their child. I don't think it's silly at all and it shows how much you truly care about Juni and her well being. She's lucky to have you as her father" I say and he cringes only for a moment before his expression goes back to a softer one. I want to ask what would've warranted a reaction like that but I leave it alone. 

"Okay your turn, what is something you hope for?" he asks and I already know the answer to it but I'm hesitant to say. I take a second to try and figure out how to formulate it properly but decide to just go for it. 

"I hope to be a mother and have children of my own someday. Doesn't matter if it's naturally or through adoption, I just hope to have someone I can love and care for unconditionally and watch them as they grow and change and pray I'll receive that love and care back from them" I say and he gives me a wary expression and I quickly try to backtrack, not knowing if I've messed up or not. 

"I'm sorry that was probably extremely insensitive of me" I say, pulling away my hand but he holds onto it and gives me a sad smile before responding. "I think you would be a wonderful mother. If you were to give your children even half the time and attention you've given to Juni today they would still be incredibly lucky to call you their mother" he says, reassuring me that it's okay to talk about these topics around him. 

"Last one?" I question, seeing if he's up to telling me something he's hopeful for. "I just hope that no matter what my family and friends stay happy and healthy. It might be simple but I enjoy the simple things in life" he says and I smile, seeing how truly kind and compassionate he is just from his simple answer. "That's a good answer" I say and we both chuckle a bit before we're broken out of yet again another moment by the sound of our mothers stumbling into the room. 

"Oh don't let us bother you we're just going to head outside with your father" Jungkook's mom says to him and I can see now from the warm glow shining through the glass door that they've finally started up the fire pit. 

"Oh we'll come outside too!" I say and try to get up off the loveseat. I'm able to stand but immediately lose my balance and feel a strong set of hands on my hips and end up falling into Jungkook's lap. "I-" I start, turning towards him and trying to get out an apology but stop short when I see how close his face is to mine, our noses almost touching. 

I hear our mothers head outside quickly and close the door but neither of us pay any mind, both focused on each other to the point where neither of us move for what feels like forever but was only a matter of seconds. When I do try to get up I feel his grip on me tighten. 

"I'm s-sorry, this couch is always difficult to get off of" I explain and he smiles. "Like I said before, you have nothing to apologize for" he says, his voice a bit deeper than before and it takes every fiber of my being to stop myself from looking at his lips but when I see his flutter down to mine I can't help but do the same. 

"Daddy, why is Ms. y/n sitting on your lap?" we hear Juni say and I immediately get off of him and throw my face in my hands, trying to hide the embarrassment written all over me but Jungkook handles it like a champ. 

"Ms. y/n just fell down Juni and I caught her. You know how I catch you sometimes before you fall?" he offers and she walks over to us, rubbing her eyes and immediately climbing onto Jungkook's lap. "Oh okay" she says, yawning again after Jungkook places a kiss on the crown of her head. 

"Do you wanna go see the fire that grandpa and Ms. y/n's dad made?" he asks and she hums in approval, still half asleep but wanting to go outside with everyone. "Okay let's go" he says, standing up with Juni in one arm and holding his hand out to help me up. I glare up at him and he smiles, knowing he's added to my embarrassment but I take his hand anyways and he makes no moves to let go once I'm up on my feet, walking us all towards the back door. 

Once we're outside though that's when he lets go so he can hold Juni properly while he walks down the patio steps so we can get to the fire pit. 

"Juni woke up?" his mother asks and Jungkook nods. "Yeah she wanted to come outside with everyone even though she is still very very sleepy" he says, talking in a silly sweet voice that makes Juni pout although her eyes are still closed. "I'm not sleepy" she says mid yawn causing me to coo at her and when she realizes I'm still close by she sits up off of Jungkook's chest and reaches towards me. 

I look between her and Jungkook for a second and he nods his head in approval and hands her to me, grabbing a chair afterwards for me to sit on and pulling up another one next to mine and looks over at Juni to see she's practically sound asleep again. "Are you okay with her?" he asks and I hum in approval leaving him placing another kiss on Juni's head before leaning back in his chair. 

"So Jungkook, what do you think of my daughter?" my mother asks and Jungkook chokes on air, not expecting the straightforward question. "Mom!" I scold and she chuckles, "What? It's a simple question. No need to give a complex answer, unless he wants to" she teases and I swear I can even hear Jungkook's dad chuckling at my mother's antics. 

They couldn't make it more obvious that they're trying to set us up even if they tried. 

My dad luckily somewhat comes to Jungkook's aide and hands him a bottle of water to hopefully help him stop coughing which it does thankfully.

He takes a second to clear his throat and I would be lying if I said I wasn't on edge, waiting to hear what his answer might be. "I think she is a very kind hearted and very intelligent young woman" he says simply and the echos of him calling me beautiful earlier on tonight attach to the end of that. 

"And would you like to see her again?" she continues and he then looks over at me, giving me a soft smile and glancing down at Juni before looking me in the eyes again. "We've already planned to see each other again" he says, memories of Juni's invitation to the butterfly shopping trip fluttering through my mind again. 

"Did you hear that? Jungkook has already asked to see her again" my mom says, calling over to Jungkook's mom as if she hadn't been listening the whole time. "Well technically Juni asked if I could go shopping with them" I explain and Jungkook chuckles. "Juni is a very smart girl" my mother compliments and Jungkook and I can't help but laugh. 

The rest of the night flies by and before I know it we're already standing in the doorway saying goodbye. "It's was so nice seeing you again y/n! I hope to be seeing you again soon" Jungkook mom says, winking at me. "Oh come on honey leave the girl alone" Jungkook's dad says, coming to my aide and saying his goodbyes as well. 

Jungkook's parents say a quick goodbye to Jungkook and Juni as well since they came in separate cars and I notice after that my dad pulls Jungkook aside and says something that I regretfully can't make out. Luckily he doesn't seem bothered by it as they smile and shake hands before my dad pats him on the back, sending him off with I can only assume is well wishes. 

Jungkook says goodbye to my mother and I can tell how much she's praising him, he thanks her for everything and makes his way over to me a few moments later and it's almost as if it was a ghost town with only Jungkook and I in the entryway now, with him holding a still very sleepy Juni in his arms. 

"Thank you for coming, I know this was probably a lot for you" I say, rocking back and forth on my heels and he smiles before answering. "I had fun, and I know Juni did too" he says and I can feel my heart skip a beat, "I did too" I reply shyly. He reaches into his pocket and unlocks his phone before handing it to me.

"Do you think I could have your number? You know, so we can set up that shopping day soon? I know Juni won't be able to stop talking about it until we go" he says, turning into what I could only describe as a shy teenage boy, asking his crush for her number. "Sure" I say, putting it in and calling my number so I have his too. 

"Let me know when you get home safe" I say and place my hand on Juni's back and whisper a quick goodbye which regrettably stirs her awake and I mouth a quite sorry to Jungkook but he smiles in response. 

"Wanna say goodbye to Ms. y/n?" Jungkook asks and she nods her head before opening her eyes and leaning towards me to give me a kiss on the cheek leaving me speechless. "Goodnight pretty lady" she mumbles before laying back down on Jungkook's chest. He chuckles after seeing my reaction and gives Juni a kiss on her head in response. 

"Goodnight y/n" he whispers to me and I send him the same sentiment, walking him to the door and watching as he walks over to his car while he puts Juni in her carseat. He looks back to see if I'm still watching and smiles at me again before getting in his car and driving off. 

"So should I schedule an appointment with the caterers tomorrow or...?" I hear my mother say behind me, making me jump before taking a few steps back into the house and closing the door. "Very funny mom" I say, walking over to the living room and plopping down on the couch Jungkook and I had been sharing a couple hours ago. 

"What's wrong? He's a nice man isn't he? Plus his daughter seems like she loves you! Why don't you give it a shot?" she asks and I sigh, sinking further back into the couch. "I don't know, I just don't want to get my hopes up" I mumble and she sits next to me, placing a comforting hand on my thigh. "What makes you say that?" she asks curiously.

"It's almost as if he's too perfect. He's handsome, charming, charismatic, a great dad and I don't know, he just seems too good to be true" I admit and she nods her head, understanding my hesitation. "Everyone puts their best foot forward when they're meeting someone for the first time. Just go out with him and Juni in a few days and keep an open mind. It's not the fact that he has Juni that's holding you back right?" she questions, trying to figure out what exactly has got me doubting. 

"No not at all! If anything Juni is an added bonus" I say truthfully and she smiles at me. "Good, because I think she's already become very attached to you" she says and I nod my head. "Yeah I think I have too" I mumble and she claps her hands, jolting me out of my train of thought. 

"Now all we have to do is get a ring attached to that finger and the three of you can live happily ever after" she says, getting up to clean up the cake plates that sit on the coffee table in front of us. 

"Mom" I groan and she laughs, "I want some beautiful grandchildren and if that handsome young man can't help you give them to me then I don't know who could" she continues leaving me sighing, not bothering to argue back since she is definitely right about that one. 

I hear my phone chime in my purse moments later after I walk into my bedroom to gather up my things to go back home and see a message from an unknown number but check my call log and see that the numbers match up from when I called myself off Jungkook's phone. 

I quickly add him to my contacts before opening up our chat and see a short but sweet message from him. 

'Home safe and sound. Thanks for having us tonight. Hope to see you soon?' he sends with a question mark at the end, clearly still wanting to double check on if I'll actually want to see them again. I wait a few seconds, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard before finally composing a message and hitting send before I chicken out. 

'See you soon Jungkook. I really enjoyed getting to know you and Juni. Looking forward to shopping for butterflies together!' I say and cringe once I reread it. 'Ugh could I possibly sound more desperate?' I say to myself and toss my phone on the bed, sitting down at the computer chair across from it. 

A minute later I hear another message come in and I practically lunge for the phone, praying I didn't weird him out but moments later I feel heat rushing to my cheeks and have to will myself into not squealing.

'We're counting down the minutes until we can see you again. Let's talk tomorrow and set up a date and time'  he says and I rush to respond. 

'Sounds great! Goodnight Jungkook'  I say, ending the conversation before I end up embarrassing myself even more but before I can even lock my phone his message pops up. 

'Goodnight y/n, sweet dreams' the message is so simple but it still makes me smile. 

"Is that Jungkook texting you?" my mom asks, poking her head into the room and I quickly lock my phone and grab my purse. "Yes it is, goodnight mom" I say, walking past her and straight to the front door with her trailing after me. "Oh come on sweetie you know I'm just teasing you. I really think he's going to be a good match for you" she says and I turn to face her before I leave. 

"I really hope so. Say goodnight to dad for me" I say giving her a kiss on the cheek and getting in my car to drive home. 

~~~~

Once I walk in I'm greeted again by Salem and he walks up, waiting for me to pick him up. "You're such a little baby you know that?" I chuckle and he meows in response. 

I follow the same routine as I always do, carrying him with me into my room and rambling off to him about my day before hopping in the shower but this time I have a lot more to say, leaving me wasting half the hot water and causing me to have to finish up the last bit of my shower in a freezing cold stream. 

After finishing up and finally settling into bed I lay down and Salem curls up next to me. "Things might be changing around here boy. I only hope they're for the better, what do you think?" I ask after having told him everything and I'm met with the feeling of him purring and if that isn't a good sign then I don't know what is. 

"I hope he likes cats" I say, giving him one last pet before turning off the light and for the first time in a very long time I can finally say I've gone to sleep feeling content. The last thought that runs through my head is one that helps me fall asleep with a soft smile on my face. 

I can't wait to see him again...

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[isasweetie]

just imagining you being kidnapped by singh instead of kie, and reuniting with your ex boyfriend, rafe. it starts out a bit hostile when he turns around and see’s you in a red dress. instantly walking over to you and saying “the fuck are you doing, huh? butting in on my deal like this? we’re not together anymore, you can’t do this—“ when you two sit down, it’s tense and neither of you are looking at each other.

mr. singh speaks for a little, apologizing for the rough tactics in bringing you here. rafe is instantly chiming in, because he needs to know what singh did to you. “what tactics, huh?” he asks, and singh just tells rafe to calm down. that’s when you look up at rafe and mouth an, “it’s okay.”

singh killing jimmy portis forces you and rafe to reconcile. you walk right up to rafe to watch through the window, like singh told you to, and are barely even aware that you’ve been holding onto his bicep in fear the entire time you watched. that’s when he knew you were scared.

he sits you down on the shared bed, looking at your pouty and nervous face. “hey, don’t bullshit me, alright? do you know where the fuck this diary is?” he asks, ice cold eyes looking panicked for once. “no lies, or else me ‘n you are dead.” he adds because he needs to put this in perspective for you. you nod gently, although you know if it was anyone else, they’d be saying no and lying.

but of course, too nervous to tell mr. singh (as anyone else would be as well), you wait for a night. you offer to sleep on the floor of your shared bedroom, saying that maybe it’ll be awkward if you two share after months apart. he rolls his eyes and tugs you beside him. you don’t fall asleep cuddling, both too nervous about this situation to initiate anything. but somehow you wake up tangled in each others arms.

flash forward to when you two have escaped. he’s bringing you to his boat, the one he took here to make the deal. when you say that it’s okay, that you should just be looking for your friends, he’s physically tugging you onto the boat with a strangled, “no, you’re not looking for your fucking friends. i’m not letting you get killed, okay? shit, kid, after all these months, thought you’d be smart enough to—“ you cut him off with an “okay, i get it!”

but the minute you’re on the boat and he’s untying the knot, you’re murmuring an, “i’m super sorry rafey,” and kissing his cheek before shoving him into the water. he can find another way home, no way you’re going back to the OBX without the pogues — it wouldn’t be the same.

[lukolathoughts]

Miss Nicola - supporting LGBTQI rights

Dearest gentle reader,

I have been itching to write a blog post now for a few weeks, but not really knowing where to begin. There have been frenzied weeks and days of activity, but then silence and the fandom meanders like a lost boat at sea. We are often rudderless without the reassuring presence of our ship captains - Luke and Nicola. This also tends to get the sub fandoms spouting nonsense claiming to have seen Nicola in Birmingham or some ridiculous crap. I didn't want to bother her by asking for a photo! No photo, no proof my friend.

I'll talk about me for a moment. I had a week from hell last week. There was something so upsetting for me to deal with, I couldn't go into work as I was crying that much. Try to explain this to your manager: that nasty comments on YouTube made you late for work. Luckily, she is an understanding person and I have told her about my YT channel. Saying some things out loud to real life people make me sound barking mad. But it is the price you pay for being public on YouTube. It also makes me an easy target. I am used to online trolls and people who hate me for saying that Jake is gay and believing in Lukola, but when the stab in the back comes from a supposed friend, it really is the ten of swords. My phone blew up that much, I opened my eyes that morning genuinely thinking Lukola had launched. My hope turned to ash, when I saw what was really happening. I share this with you all because, I have had to have a reckoning with myself the last week. My online life and my real life are not the same. My real life is way more important and I actually need my job, so messing it up because I've got people I don't really know online saying mean things about me, that are not true, shouldn't matter. But it still hurts. But I also realise, they are trying to stop me sharing and trying to ruin my credibility and reputation in order to send me off into my discord crying never to return again.

Well think again. No one tells a Sagittarius woman what they can and can't do. I am made of stronger stuff. Love will always conquer hate. No one puts Baby in the corner, and I will not stand for it. I have scaled back most of my online life now. It had helped me cope with the last year and losing my friend, but sometimes you have to go back into reality. I'm never leaving the ship though. You'll have to chuck me overboard and I'll still jump back on like Rose from Titanic. "I couldn't go, Jack! You jump, I jump, right?"

Anyway, enough about me. Let's talk about Nic. I love Nicola by the way and nothing I say here is a criticism of her or her choices. I see what you're doing though, miss Nicola. I said in my last blog that the shit would hit the fan when Jake has to start press for his new upcoming BBC3 drama What it feels like for a girl. I will admit I have not read the book. Regardless of who Jake is playing, it is reportedly an all queer cast, a queer director and at least one queer writer that I know of. Why would the director of an all queer cast hire a straight man in a homosexual role? If this show is as big as It's a Sin, that aired on Channel 4 a few years ago, then there will be press and a lot of it. There will be press from queer magazines also. Jake is currently in an awkward position, because some press believe he is in a romantic relationship with Nicola Coughlan, a woman who is also 14 years his senior. So, what will Nicola and Jake do?

Jake is holding onto his cash cow with both hands and Nicola needs Jake to continue to pose as her boyfriend to stop the media digging. But honey, they know. It was clear all the press at the SAG awards knew exactly what was going on and they were not afraid to say it. The 'happy ending' comment levelled at them directly by a reporter, had Nicola stunned and Luke smiling like all his Christmases' had come at once.

Nicola knows what is going on. She knows there is a deadline and she knows if she doesn't extricate herself from the narrative she is dating a gay man, she is screwed basically. What is she doing? She's getting out her, I love gays!! T-shirt, hats, scarfs, sunglasses, whatever. She is doing it. Look at me, I love queers! I love her for this and I already know she is an advocate for LGBTQI rights. She has a ton of gay friends. The fandom knows this of course, but do the general public?

At the Neutrogena event on 27th March 2025, there was a very tall drag queen doing some MCing. We know Nic loves drag queens and has been to many shows, so this is nothing new to us. I'm not being overly cynical that the drag queen might have been there for a reason, right? Neutrogena is a product that is targeted at women mostly for their skin products. What has that got to do with a drag queen? I just found it odd.

Next up we have Nicola's Pink Pony Club Post that she shared to both her Instagram stories and grid last Thursday 10th April. The song by Chappell Roan is synonymous with the gay community and one that Jake danced to at her concert last year in a pink cowboy hat. "You guys, remember when my old flat was a gay hotspot!" Nicola, posts 4 polaroid's of her looking fabulous in pink and lays them on a pink blanket. What made you feel so nostalgic, Nic? Or are you sending a message? Look at me, I have loved my gay besties for donkey's years. Prominent gay friends such as JVN and Jack Rooke commented all in agreement, that indeed, Nic's flat was the place to be. And, no I do not think Nicola is coming out herself as gay. Get real, she is supporting her friends and peers.

Then there was yesterday's selfie of Nicola wearing her black - 'I just wanted to say if you are trans and reading this, I love you and so do all my mates' T-shirt. There a few other details in that post that other bloggers such as @toriaaniin have covered beautifully, so I won't go into it here. My eyes sprung wide when I saw this post. I know she advocates for the charity Notaphase.org and I commend her for doing this, but two queer posts in a few days seems to be a lot for Nic, when lately she hasn't been posting at all.

There is also the male hairdresser Halley Brisker in her Opalex video on her Instagram, They make a big deal of letting us know he flirts with male makeup artists. Nicola is clearly good friends with Halley and it is an endearing watch. But to me this seems like a lot of overkill in the last few days for the general public to look at her Instagram and instantly know, yes Nicola does love the girls, the gays and Luke Newton. (FYI Halley Brisker is married to a woman and has children, but to the general public this conversation is implying Nic is comfortable with these conversations).

This, in my opinion, is setting the stage for the final act. I can see Nicola doing some sort of article or interview where she clears a certain narrative up. If you notice, Douglas has also been quite forceful again in implying certain things about Jake and Jake himself does not stop others from posting suggestive posts and videos of him. Nicola must remove herself from this mess in order to move forward with her own career and life. Hanging onto old connections are no longer serving her personally and professionally. Her engagement on Instagram is down by a lot, so I'm told and she is losing followers. She has done all she can career-wise for Jake now, he has to make his own way.

If this does not happen and we remain in this weird heteronormative bubble, I fear the press for What it feels like for a girl, will be a shit show. The truth will come out eventually and it will drag both Jake and Nicola down with it.

[howslemon]

0310

IVE Liz x Male Reader

Words: 2k+

“I can’t believe I’m here,” you muttered under your breath, letting out a slow, weighted sigh. It’s already past four o’clock, and yet you’re still there, sitting in the same spot for almost an hour now, almost like you’re waiting for something… someone…

“Hey! I’m really sorry for making you wait!” a girl’s voice pulled you back, dropping onto the bench beside you, still catching her breath but laughing through it. Did she run here for you? You lifted your head, turning to her, looking at her. A cute deep dimple carves into her cheek as she smile, as bright as the sunshine brushing across her face, her almond eyes glowing. She’s so beautiful. “Hey, Liz.” that’s all you could manage to say. But the smile on your lips says more than just words ever could.

That moment, the way she looked, the way your heart moved, feels like it never really left this place.

A breeze passed, the sunlight shifting as your smile fades, realizing that now, it’s just you. Alone in the same bench, holding the weight of the memory from this exact day five years ago.

“I can’t believe it’s been that long already,” you murmured, staring at the empty seat beside you. Your fingers brush the wooden slats she once sat on, your hand lingering where hers used to rest.

That was the day it all began. Her laugh, the way she looked at you, the way you swore no one had ever made the world feel that light before. The laughs you shared each awkward silence, it felt so genuinely assuring.

You stood, brushing your hands against your jeans. The bench creaking slightly as you leave it behind, just like you both did, all those years ago.

The park haven’t changed much. The same vendors, same rusted bike rack, same uneven brick that used to make her trip just a little every time, until she learned to step over it. You walked slower now, tracing her old footsteps with your own.

There it is, the riverside. You rest your hands on the same metal railing. Its blue paint chipped and cool beneath your skin. It’s quieter than you remember. Or maybe it’s just you.

“It’s so pretty here.” Liz said, her eyes set on the small duck boats from a distance. You turned to her, admiring her smile, it feels like home. It never failed to make your heart pound as hard. “It is pretty,” you replied smiling, you wanted this moment to last forever.

“I think I like this better than the movies,” she said, leaning closer to the edge, her fingers brushing yours on the railing. “Less people, less noise. It’s so peaceful.”

You searched her eyes, hoping she’d meet yours. But she didn’t. “Yeah,” you said too quickly. “But if it’s with you, even noisy places would be okay.”

She smiled at that, not teasing, not deep. Just… polite. And yet, you still held onto it like it meant everything.

You edged your hand a little closer to hers. Not quite touching, not yet, just lightly brushing. Waiting, hoping. She didn’t pull away, but didn’t reach back either.

You took a deep breath, looking at your hands just beside each other. You finally made a move to hold her hand. But it was cold, realizing that she’s not there anymore, it,s just the metal railing you held, where she had rested her hand before. If only you’d held her hand that day.

“Liz?” A familiar scent brushed past you. You turned, looking around, but she’s not there. Of course not. That scent had been lingering in your memory, etched in your mind even since that day. So vivid some days, it clings your clothes, sneaks into the air when the wind shifts. But you still has those butterflies each time.

You breathe again, slower this time. It’s gone. But it’s enough to pull you away from the railing, from that memory.

Your feet started to move. Knowing exactly where they’re going.

That cafe’s still here. Standing alone in the park among the trees at the edge of the park. The sign’s a little faded now, the logo peeled at the edges. But the bell above the door still jingles the same.

The warm air meets you first, along with the faint scent of coffee beans being grinded by the counter. A few sleepy cats curl by the windowstill. You glanced around for that one familiar cat, but it was nowhere to be found.

You took that table. The one by the window. Where that grey cat always claimed the other seat. Liz always liked this table, a perfect view of the riverside where she can watch the sunset, and her favorite cat always curling up beside us.

No need to look at the menu, you both just ordered the same thing everytime anyway. “One large Spanish Latte, a slice of red velvet cake, and then…” you paused, catching yourself. “…just that, please.”

You carried your tray back to your table, careful not to step on the cats sprawled across the floor. You sit quietly, watching the sky outside as you sip your coffee. The sun’s already down. Then softly, the overhead lights flicker on. The warm amber glow fills the room.

“Wow, the lights are pretty.” Liz said. She was there, resting her chin on her hand, her eyes following the soft lights strung around the plants. “I like how the light make everything feel softer,” She smiled. “Even the cats look fluffier.” She let out a soft giggle as she looked at the cats around. But your eyes, just stayed on her.

A grey cat hopped onto the empty chair next to her. Her eyes widen, smiling so brightly as she pet the cat. “Hello!” She cooed in that cutesy high-pitched voice she always used with cats. “Meow!” And then there’s her meowing, as if she’s having a full-on conversation. You couldn’t help but to adore her being all excited playing with a cat. It’s like watching two cats playing with each other.

Outside, the full moon hangs in the sky, glowing softly over the river. You turned to look at it. Still having that warmth feeling from that time, until you turned back, looking at the empty seat in front of you.

The same grey cat approached on your side. “Hey there, Yona.” That’s the name Liz gave her, after the cat kept sitting with you everytime you were here. “I was looking for you earlier but you weren’t around.” You reached down and scratched her head gently as she leaned closer to your hand. Yona turned to look at the chair where Liz used to sit, then meowed.

“I miss her too,” you whispered, giving her one last scratch behind her ear before turning back toward the window. “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” You sat for a moment longer, letting the silence settle.

The bell above the cafe door jingles as you leave. The night air cooler now, brushing against your skin like a ghost of her touch. You slipped your hands into your pockets, feet already moving as if they already know which way to go without needing to be told.

There’s a path behind the cafe, the one lined up with paper lanterns during festivals. The same one you walked with her that day.

“I love you.” Liz said so suddenly.

“What did you say?” you asked, assuring that you heard those words correctly.

Liz turned, looking up at you. “I… Love… You…” she said, word per word. You heard it right, does that mean?

“Does that mean—”

“Yes.” she smiled, her hands reaching yours. It’s hard to be explained, people walking by froze, everything went into a blur. All you knew was she’s the only one you can see.

“Yes? Yes?! Whoooo!!” You screamed your emotions out, couldn’t believe it, that she’s now yours, and yours only. And that you’re hers, and hers only. You hugged her tightly, jumping around like a little kid. “I love you too!”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think we’re still working for me.” just like that day, she caught you off guard with another sudden confession. A total opposite of the start, the end.

She laughed then, half embarrassed, half in awe, pulling back just enough to look at you. “You’re so intense,” she giggled, her fingers didn’t let go of yours. Not yet.

You memorized everything about that moment. The way her smile curved, the way her eyes darted away when you held her gaze too long, like she was afraid to be seen too clearly. But you didn’t mind. You’d hold on enough for both of you.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t think this is working for me anymore.”

It was exactly two years later, but just like that first confession, she caught you off guard again. Another truth dropped without warning.

You blinked, frozen in place. “Wait, what?”

Her eyes avoided yours. “I just… I think I need space. We’ve been trying so hard lately, and it’s still not…” she paused, breathing shallowly, “…still not enough.”

Enough. That word stuck to your ribs like a stone.

“I can fix it,” you said, too fast. “We can fix it, Liz. I just need to know what you need, what I can do—”

She shook her head. “That’s just it. I don’t know what I need. I never do. And I feel like I’m always being pulled into something too much, too fast.”

Your heart broke a little right then, not just from the words, but from how far away she already seemed, even standing right in front of you.

You’ve already noticed her clues beforehand. The way she’d pull her hand away a little faster after holding it. How her replies in text got shorter, slower. The way her eyes drifted to the window when you spoke about the future, as if the view outside was easier to hold onto than your words.

She started saying “I’m just tired” more often. Not angry, not upset, just tired. But tired became quieter, and quieter became distant.

You told yourself it was fine. That everyone gets like that sometimes. That if you just gave more, more patience, more love, more time, she’d come back around.

You didn’t ask questions you didn’t want the answers to. Because deep down, you knew. And knowing would’ve made it real.

It’s been two years since that day, and yet you’re still in this place, reenacting those precious moments you made together. From your first date, first “I love you”, to your last time together.

Your feet stopped, at that very cobbled stone where it all started, and ended. The trees rustled as the cool night breeze passes, carrying the faint scent of blossoms. You looked up. Cherry blossoms already falling. “Isn’t it too early?” You muttered.

Pink petals falling like snow, so cold it reminded you of that day. You managed to pick one falling petal, staring at it.

“Happy anniversary,”

“Happy anniversary,”

You froze, fingers still holding the single petal. There she was, standing in front of you, her hair slightly longer now, her coat rustling with the wind, eyes wide like she couldn’t believe it either. She held a petal in her hand too.

Why is she here? Did she come to those places too? Wait, did she just say “happy anniversary” too? She remembered?

You looked at her, really looked. The way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, the soft flush on her cheeks from the cold. Real, undeniably real.

Those two words. Just like the first time. It was all you could manage saying.

“Hey, Liz.”

She gave a soft smile, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Do you… wanna walk a bit?”

••••••••••

Prompt by @suchsweetstories

[obxsummer]

overdrive // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: a guaranteed 5k payment turns into a diving mission that gives john b more stress than he needs, jj learns why he needs to take a safety stop, and despite being in the hospital, you're just happy to have some peace and quiet in your boyfriend's arms.

warnings: spoilers for s4 ep2, the usual obx kinda shit

navigation -- series masterlist

--

“Do you guys know anybody that’s been here, because I don’t?”

“Nope.”

“Sarah, you must know somebody that’s been here, right? I mean like all Kooks, they… they know each other.”

“Are you kidding me?”

You tuned out the rumored conversations of the group as John B drove the boat toward Goat Island, the location of which Genrette asked you all to meet to discuss the possible Blackbeard treasure. While the idea of getting back into this treasure hunt wasn’t one you enjoyed, it felt more normal than you anticipated. 

The island looked like any other, but the amount of trees and greenery was in abundance compared to Kildare. You could see an older man waiting on the dock as you all got closer. The lack of upkeep made you shiver, knowing this likely wasn’t going to be very welcoming.

“This place is 200 years old and they still don’t have a road that doesn’t go underwater twice a day.”

You shifted in your seat as Pope and JJ grabbed the ropes to tie off, and your boyfriend greeted the man politely as they stood. Silence followed and the man continued to stare at all of you. “Welcome to Blackstone.”

You all shared awkward glances as he walked away without another word. JJ offered you his hand to climb out of the HMS Pogue, his palm shifting to rest on your back as the group moved forward to follow. 

“So uh, what have you been digging?” Your boyfriend attempted to dissolve the awkward tension but wasn’t fairing well.

“Ditches.” The reply was hoarse and simple. 

“Ditches,” JJ repeated, “At least it’s not graves.”

“All the same to me.”

You didn’t like the atmosphere that this visit was suddenly bringing and brought JJ’s hand to hold in your own. Something seemed creepy and off as if you were walking straight into a trap. 

“Uh, so how long have you been working for Mr. Genrette?” John B continued.

The man you were following came to a pause in his walk, sparing a glance at the group of you over his shoulder. “As long as I can remember.”

Your path eventually went up a flight of stairs to a large white house before the man pointed you in that direction. JJ thanked him and continued to approach, dropping your hand in favor of using the door knocker to announce your arrival.

“Oh, just a little quick FYI, they drug you before they chop you up.”

You smacked JJ’s shoulder in annoyance, hating the way it settled in your spine with goosebumps. “You’re an ass.”

He held his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying, don’t eat or drink anything.”

“Not funny.”

“Yeah, guys. I think I’ve changed my mind about this one. I-I really don’t wanna be here,” Sarah voiced the thoughts that were running through your mind as you nodded in agreement, Kie echoing the statement. 

You didn’t get a chance to make a run for it as the locks on the door began to click open, revealing another man in a white button-up with a sweater tied loosely around his neck. “Hi. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. It’s quite a big house and I’m… I’m afraid the servants have all gone. All except, uh, good old Demp. Just can’t seem to get rid of him. Uh, you must be the… the Pogues. The Great Seekers.”

John B tilted his head in skepticism. “Yeah, I.. I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, now, don’t you be modest. I’ve read of your adventures. It’s quite thrilling,” The man disregarded your brother’s hesitance. “Uh, come in, come in. I.. I’m the son-in-law. Chandler Groff. Wes was really, really hoping you’d show. He’s been waiting.”

JJ pulled your hand back in his as he stepped forward, letting you walk ahead of him before he shifted to hide you behind his back in case anyone jumped out. “Yeah, pleasure. JJ.”

The six of you walked into the next room, taking in the dreary scenery. Cobwebs covered every surface in the house, dripping off the lights and walls, making you question what actually went on there. It seemed like a staged haunted house, which honestly was worse than it being a real one.

“This place smells like dead bodies.”

You glared at your brother’s comment, hating that he was right. Nothing in this house eased your fears about this being a bad idea. Chandler led you into another room, this one containing a fireplace and the man you’d come to know as Wes Genrette. 

“Come in, please, please. Warm yourselves by the fire,” He greeted and waved you all in the large study. There was no light besides the rays attempting to creep in the windows, casting the room in a cold atmosphere. “I apologize for dragging you all out here, but I… I don’t think I could speak about this in public. I know I mentioned Blackbeard, but I assure you all, my interest is not for treasure.”

The six of you scattered around the various seating options in the room. JJ was seated on the armrest of the chair you occupied; his hand warm on the back of your neck as he rubbed the skin softly. John B and Sarah were on your other side with Pope, Cleo, and Kiara across from you. 

“My ancestor, Francis Genrette, was the British officer who caught and killed the notorious pirate.”

Pope shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he turned to face the older man. “Wait. Your… your direct ancestor?”

Wes nodded. “Mhm. Yes, unfortunately. After he’d beheaded Blackbeard, he killed the pirate’s wife, Elizabeth. And since then, for 300 years, generations of Genrettes have been haunted by Elizabeth’s ghost and have died violent deaths. Including my daughter, Larissa. Chandler’s wife.”

You glanced over where the mentioned individual was standing, noticing he seemed unphased by the story being played out. It did strike you oddly that he lived with his father-in-law, figuring that he would’ve had his own home with Larissa for their family. 

“My daughter saw Elizabeth a week before she died,” Wes continued as he focused his gaze on the portrait of Larissa that was hung above the fireplace. “Now, I’ve had a visitation. So, I know I don’t have much time.”

John B cleared his throat as he pulled his attention away from the haunting painting. “Right, uh. So, we’re really sorry that happened to you, but what do you want from us?”

Wes nodded in understanding of the skepticism. “Of course. Let’s get down to business. Chandler.”

“We believe that we’ve found a way to break the curse on this family,” Chandler took up the explanation and he pointed to a piece of the painting of Elizabeth that showed a large amulet. “Right before she was murdered, Elizabeth begged Francis to retrieve from her husband’s ship a keepsake that he’d given her. Her most prized possession. An amulet. He denied the request and then murdered her. “

“But if we find that amulet, fulfilling Elizabeth’s last request, I believe it will break the curse that has haunted my family for over 300 years,” Wes said.

You weren’t fully convinced a necklace would magically make this all disappear; the whole situation reminded you too much of Limbrey and her need for the cross to cure her disease. It just didn’t seem feasible. 

Kie must’ve been thinking the same as she spoke up, “Okay. Um… I’m sorry, where did you say that necklace thingy is?”

“Blackbeard’s last ship, the Adventure.”

“Perfect,” You mumbled quietly, knowing this was going to fly off the rails quickly, as did every treasure hunt you guys went after. Another underwater search? No thanks.

Chandler continued, “According to all records, the amulet was still on it when it was scuttled right off Goat Island.”

Pope nodded in understanding. “Right, yeah, but the Coast Guard excavated that site years ago,” He explained.

“The excavation team didn’t know what we know,” Mr. Genrette tried to reason. He handed Pope over a book, pointing out something in the tattered pages. “They didn’t have this. There’s a secret lockbox hidden behind the headboard in the captain’s chamber. Do you dive?”

“We dive. All… all of us do,” JJ lied before anyone had a chance to disagree. You pinched his knee softly in warning. “It’s just, we only do it if the price is right.”

Wes didn’t seem upset by the comeback. “Excellent. We are prepared to offer you a premium for your services. Fifty thousand, plus expenses. Five thousand up front. And we would very much like your immediate answer.”

John B thankfully moved before JJ had a chance to open his mouth again. “We just need to think it through. We’ll be right back.” He grabbed the shoulder of your boyfriend’s shirt, nearly dragging him out of his seat to another room with the rest of you quickly following. 

“What was that!”

“We have to think.”

“This is weird,” You echoed Kie and Sarah’s statements. “I mean it sounds like Limbrey 2.0, no? I don’t like it. We can just slip out the back.”

John B paced behind the couch. “Are we really going to listen to the guy who should be in a white padded room? Visitations? Curses?”

“He’s a madman!” Cleo agreed. 

“Obviously, he’s batshit, but he’s in there crying about his daughter. Like, he needs help,” Sarah tried to reason.

Kie shook her head. “He needs therapy, not a necklace thing. We cannot ignore the fact that there is a ghost and a curse. Y’all aren’t getting weird ass vibes?”

“Okay. Guys.” Cleo pulled the conversation back in. “Let’s just say we take this job. Is it even possible?”

“Yes,” JJ’s voice was monotone as he responded. You shook your head at him, knowing it probably was, but you didn’t want to find out.

“I knew what you would say,” Cleo dismissed him, knowing he was eager to get any and all money. “Everybody else?”

With a soft groan, you ran your hands across your face. “I don’t like it.”

“That ship is probably 80-100 feet down. The currents are probably ripping.”

“Guys,” JJ whispered harshly, “Are we really gonna worry about the details right now?”

A resounding “Yes!” followed his question. 

JJ shook his head, looking at all of you as if the answer was obvious. “In our time of need, are we really gonna turn down free money? No! That’s not like us.”

“It’s not free!” You argued back as you made eye contact with him. “Babe-”

“The worst that can happen is we walk out of here with 5 Gs in our pocket. End of discussion.”

“That’s not the worst!

“We could go to jail, we could die, we could-”

JJ seemingly ended the discussion for everyone as he ignored the concerns and walked back to the room where Wes and Chandler were waiting. “Sir, we’ve come to our conclusion, and we’ll do it. We’ll take the job.”

A deep sigh left your mouth, your forehead dropping to Sarah’s shoulder in frustration at JJ’s willingness to throw your group into danger. Pope intercepted JJ’s attempts at taking the initial 5k payment as Wes and Chandler thanked you all graciously.

Chandler reached out to grab JJ’s shoulder. “Hey, JJ. I believe in you.”

You stared at the awkward moment, listening as JJ thanked him before moving back to you, grabbing your hand to lead the group out of the house. You risked looking over your shoulder to see the creepy smile on Chandler Groff’s face as he watched your group disappear from view. 

Looking up at your boyfriend as you made it out, you could tell he was a little thrown off guard. “Jayj?”

“I’m fine, baby,” His response was quiet as he tried to convince you before plastering a convincing smile back on his face. “Let’s go, y’all! We got work to do.”

--

JJ’s whole mood had taken a turn with the five grand in hand, and the plan in place on the dive. What Wes had said was lining up with the information in the captain’s log, to your dismay. You were kind of hoping on the trail to end cold and avoid JJ diving into wreckage in the first place. 

While the boys, Kie, and Cleo took the liberty of attempting to find more info on the location of the wreck, you and Sarah managed the store in the meantime. You were restocking and organizing the surrounding items while Sarah took the register. 

“Good afternoon, ladies.” A stern voice broke you from your routine as you looked over. You quickly recognized the man as the one who kept going head-to-head with JJ on the auction for the house, and he didn’t look like he was here to be nice. “Y’all remember me?”

“How could we forget?” Your tone was sickly sweet but you let the sarcasm sink in. Walking behind the counter, you stopped next to Sarah and placed your fingers on the switchblade Cleo left under the register in a safety precaution. 

The man nodded and slid a paper toward Sarah. “Hmm, like that attitude. No wonder Cameron liked to keep you around. I’ve got something for you here. I can take this place off your hands at any time. For a fair price.”

Sarah chuckled softly. “I don’t think that’s necessary. But can we offer you a keychain? Maybe a… glass bong, a pipe? You look like you need one.”

He looked away to not face the two of you as if he was assessing your work so far. “You know, y’all are gonna lose this place. You might as well sell now.”

You rolled your eyes and motioned toward the dock where he came. “Whatever you said, old man. And you can tell Cameron to kiss my ass if he comes asking.”

Sarah picked up the paper, her eyes moving quickly as she skimmed it before holding it out. You glanced at her expression and took it, instantly clocking the Public Notice, Change of Zoning.

“My dad used to do that all the time. It’s changing the zoning, it’s a way to force owners out of their property.”

You groaned and set it down. “Pope went through hell to get it changed in the first place. How can they change it back?”

“If someone’s got the money to do it, what’s it matter?”

“What are we gonna tell the others?” Your voice dropped to a whisper as you looked at her, the realization sinking in that this would cost more than you could account for, even with the fronted 5k. 

She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

You read the paper fully, wishing there was some form of hope to find hidden in the language but came up empty-handed. “We’ll tell JB first. He’ll know what to do.”

Sarah didn’t say anything but you could feel her chin rest on your shoulder before you dropped yours to lean against her. This was just another nail in the coffin that the world seemed to be building around your family.

And it was getting really hard to feel like they weren’t winning.

--

“My lady.”

You laughed as JJ tossed a blanket over your face, his warm body climbing in the hammock next to yours with a rough shove. Pulling the fabric away from your eyes, you were met with his crystal blue ones staring right back.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

It took less than two seconds for him to kiss you, the movement rough and warm. You hummed at his action, loving the way he seemed to know exactly how to hold you and bring butterflies to your stomach every time. 

Fingers slipped into his hair, gently pulling the blond strands when he bit down on your lip with a soft gasp, everything heating with each second. JJ’s leg slipped between yours as you leaned up to chase his lips before the hammock moved sharply, threatening to throw the two of you to the ground.

“Okay, okay,” You giggled as he shifted his weight back down, wet kisses on your neck coming shortly after. “They will kill us if they catch us out here again.”

“We need our own place then.”

You huffed, pulling his head awake from your neck where he was starting something he couldn’t finish. “As much as I would love to do this right now, we have to talk about the dive.”

JJ groaned loudly in faux annoyance and dropped his weight on you completely like a slug. “Why can’t we just have sex and figure it out later?”

“Because Sarah already heard us last night and I’m trying to save you from John B if it happens again,” You explained with a smile before kissing his forehead. “Come on. Please.”

“Fine, fine.” He looked up at you with full attention. “What about the dive?”

You studied his face for a second, wondering how after all these years he still looked at you like you put the stars in the sky despite everything the two of you had gone through. “I wanna go with you.”

His response was instant, “No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” You shot back sternly. “You’re not going alone. I won’t let you.”

JJ brushed the hair out of your face gently and shook his head. “Sweetheart, it’s 80 feet down in the dark and moving through structures.”

You smirked at him. “Exactly, and that’s why you’ll need backup and I’m going.”

He sighed and dropped his head to your chest, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear.

“Hmm?”

“I said your brother is going to kill me.”

A bubble of laughter escaped you at the thought of John B flipping his shit, which he would when you told him. You rubbed JJ’s back gently as the sunset dipped behind the skyline, nighttime beginning to make its appearance. “Come on babe, where you go, I go, remember? Includes bottom of the ocean.”

“Okay, now when you say it like that, it sounds really bad,” He grumbled and took your hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “Yeah, okay. I don’t like it but you’re gonna do it anyway. But if John B says no, I’m not arguing with him.”

You rolled your eyes, “You won’t have to. I’ll handle it. You just gotta look pretty and make sure I don’t get the bends.”

“I’ve bent your ass over before and-”

“JJ!”

-- 

The next morning, you made your way out to the shop where Sarah usually drank her morning coffee. The two of you didn’t sleep well with anxiety of the night ahead and you stayed up into the late hours trying to figure out how to deal with the zoning issue. 

“Hey,” You whispered as you pulled JJ’s zip up closer over your chest and approached her. The morning chill was starting to set in, causing you to shiver. 

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, a Kildare Surf Co. mug held tightly in her grasp to warm her fingers. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shook your head no and leaned on the railing next to her, the two of you soaking up the sunrise and calm water. Times like this were so peaceful and grounding that you appreciated them more than the eye could tell. It was a reminder that each day was a brand new start despite how the last one ended.

“What are you two doing up?” John B found you faster than you anticipated, his Converse quiet on the wood compared to his usual rowdy steps. He still looked half asleep in his long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, his hair unruly as he gave Sarah a soft greeting kiss.

He moved to you next with a kiss on the forehead and a hug you refused to pull away from. John B always gave the best hugs. They were warm and a safe space for you, more than he had ever been in the previous years. The protectiveness had gotten stronger with the knowledge that your dad really wasn’t coming back and at the end of the day, all you would have is each other. 

“You okay?” He asked quietly, palm holding your head to his chest when you tightened your grip after a few moments.

“I’ve gotta talk to you.”

He whistled lowly. “Don’t like the sound of that first thing in the morning.”

Sarah pulled the folded paper out from her hoodie pocket to hold it toward him. John B let go of you to take it, his eyes scanning the words before he let out a soft, “Shit.”

“The guy who tried to outbid us at the auction stopped by yesterday,” Sarah explained as she crossed her arms over her chest, shifting to face the two of you with her back to the railing. “He dropped it off, and said we’ll lose everything.”

John B shook his head and folded the paper back up. “Does anyone else know?”

“Just us. Pope’s going to freak out,” She replied, stepping toward your brother to lean into his side. “I’m sorry, I don’t know-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” John B shushed her and pulled her closer. “We’re gonna figure it out. It’s not the best thing to start the morning with but…”

You kicked your shoes into the wood. “Yeah, I’m about to make it worse. I’m diving with JJ.”

“No, absolutely not.”

You rolled your eyes, repeating what you’d told JJ yesterday. “John B, I’m not asking. I’m telling you.”

“Did he put you up to this?” He tossed his hands out to the side, motioning toward the house. “Because I’ve told him-”

“JB, stop,” You interrupted whatever rude thing was about to come out of his mouth. “No, JJ didn’t put me up to it. He’s not happy about it either, but it’s my decision. I’m not letting him go down there alone.”

John B shook his head in disagreement. “Then I’ll go. Or Pope can, it doesn’t have to be you.”

“Pope knows exactly where the wreckage is and I don’t steer the boat as well as you.”

“Kie, then.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Oh, so Kie’s allowed to but I’m not?”

John B groaned and shoved his hands to his face. “You’re making this really difficult.”

“It’s not your decision. And there may not be anything down there anyway, so quit worrying about it until there’s something to worry about,” You tried your best not to sound angry toward him, knowing he had your interests in mind. “John B, please let me help.”

Sarah placed her hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be fine. If anything, it’s going to keep JJ’s mind on safety, which is a good thing, okay?”

John B kept his eyes on you. You could practically see the thoughts moving behind his eyes, thinking if there was any way to talk you out of it, but he came up empty.

Which led you here, to you and JJ slipping on wetsuits while John B and Pope navigated and Sarah, Cleo, and Kie kept an eye out from land. You hissed as JJ’s fingers skimmed your back to zip up the material, sending shivers down your spine with the coolness. 

“Sorry, sorry,” He apologized before helping you lift the BCD and remaining gear on. “Honestly, it’s kind of like surfing the point, you know. We’re upstream, and then the rip is just gonna… take us out.”

Mumbled agreements came from Pope and John B, none of them convincing in the slightest. You glared at the three boys. “You guys are not helping my nerves.”

“Okay, then take the wetsuit off and-”

You smacked John B’s shoulder, knowing he still wasn’t happy about the situation. “If I got JJ to shut up, you can too. Come on.”

“Don’t forget your safety stop,” Pope reminded as JJ loaded the speargun he insisted on taking. “Fifteen feet for three minutes. Hear that, JJ? Fifteen feet, three minutes.”

“Yeah, copy that.” The reply was direct as he pulled his goggles to his forehead. JJ’s attention shifted to you as you got to your feet and he reached out to grab your shoulder. “Hey, you good?”

You tried your best to keep the worry off your face and nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

The water was colder than you expected, and the water was so, so dark. The underwater lights did a little to help but it still was dim unless you were on something. You followed JJ’s lead further down, feeling the pressure begin to set in as the depth increased. 

To your shock, the flashlight hit an algae-covered figure that belonged at the front of a pirate ship. You didn’t think you would find it this fast, let alone that it would be real. Your gaze met JJ’s the excitement seeping in as the two of you moved forward to where Pope said would be best to enter. 

Fish and sand flew in every direction as you moved water around while swimming, the sight almost beautiful if it wasn’t deadly too. JJ quickly found the door to shift, pushing inside the area that would lead to the Captain’s Quarters where the secret compartment was above the headboard. 

You reached forward to push on the stone that had grown over time until you found a soft spot that shifted. Using Cleo’s knife to dig it out, you reached inside to feel for the supposed treasure that was supposed to be there. 

JJ called your name and moved his light away, bringing what looked like a fresh set of tools into view. Which could only really mean one thing: someone else was down here. 

You didn’t have time to think before the back of your neck was grabbed harshly, pulling you further down in the water and disorienting your entire body. Attempting to scream was nearly impossible with the mouthpiece as you kicked and shoved against the person who had grabbed you and pushed you out of JJ’s view. 

The faint sounds of him yelling for you were barely there as you tried to get your bearings back. You caught a glimpse of his flashlight and began to move in that direction when hands grabbed your waist again and yanked backward. 

“Let go!” You tried to yell, lashing back with your elbow and Cleo’s knife in an attempt to defend yourself. Things only got worse when your oxygen supply was stolen, the mouthpiece ripping away with the guy’s force as something cut along your arm. You caught sight of him swimming away but were hit with the harsh reality that your source of air was gone, left only with the deep breath you managed to steal. 

Panic set in quickly, sending you into survival mode as you did your best to swim to wear JJ was last seen. Noises helped guide and you could make out him using debris to break the worn structure and free himself. Your lungs burned with the lack of oxygen and you were starting to believe you wouldn’t even make it to him before passing out. 

“Hey, hey.” His voice was hardly recognizable before he lunged forward, placing the emergency mouthpiece in your grasp for air to flood your lungs. “You okay? We gotta go. We gotta go.”

You caught the faint beeping signal that warned JJ’s air supply was almost out as he started guiding the two of you back to the surface. Your brain was still in survival mode and the only thing you wanted to do was get the hell out of the water as soon as you could. 

The second the water broke away, you dropped the mouthpiece JJ had provided and gasped for air. He coughed aggressively behind you, the two of you reaching out for each other in relief that you had made it back. 

“Oh my god, shit. Are you okay?” His hands reached out for you in search of immediate injuries. 

“Yeah, yeah,” You choked on water and ripped the mask from your head to see him clearly. “Who the hell was that? And where’s John B?”

There was so much fog you couldn’t see and your flashlights had been lost in the fight to escape so JJ yelled out for your brother until you caught sight of the boat. Pope quickly tossed the ladder over as John B reached out for you.

“Hey, hey, hand me your stuff. Where’s your BCD?” He asked as he grabbed your elbows and lifted you out of the water like it was the easiest thing ever. 

You hit the floor of the boat relatively hard, still heaving for air in your lungs. “It’s gone.”

“What do you mean it’s gone?”

“I mean it’s gone!” It came out more aggressive than you meant for it to. “There’s a guy that tried to kill us!”

John B immediately tried to pull the remaining gear and wetsuit off you as Pope explained the boat that was up here, confirming your story. Your brother wrapped your shoulders in his lightweight shirt and ran to start the engine, pushing the boat back in the direction of home. 

“You guys okay?” Pope asked as he watched JJ collapse down next to you. The only answer he received was a thumbs up from your boyfriend, the two of you still coming down from the adrenaline rush.

The drive back was a blur and thankfully, you were back on land with your friends before you had time to even process what had just happened. 

“Someone tried to kill us,” You echoed again when John B repeated his question. You kept your head against the seat, trying to clear the fog from your brain that didn’t seem to go away as you took deep breaths. It had been a good 15 minutes back and you still couldn’t seem to shake it.

“What? Why? That doesn’t make sense. Why would someone try to kill you?”

“Obviously, they were going after the same thing we were, right?”

You groaned as they continued to talk. There was a searing pain making its way through your body and no matter how much you tried to focus on their words, you couldn’t. Sarah’s face was suddenly in front of you, her hands on your cheeks. You could see her mouth moving but couldn’t hear her voice. 

John B was quickly next to you, his arms grabbing your waist alongside Sarah before you were being moved without another word. Blurry sights eventually told you that the group was in the Twinkie, and there was so, so much yelling, but you couldn’t catch it enough to ask what was going on.

“Ow, shit,” You groaned and curled into a ball against Kiara’s side, willing the pain to go away if you coiled small enough. Turning to her, you blinked a few times to steady your sight before speaking, “Hey, guess what?”

“Just hold on, we’re almost there,” She pleaded, eyes watching you with concern. 

You shifted as much as you could, whimpering with the movement as you managed to get your hand in the swim shorts you’d been wearing to pull out the heavy-weight item in your palm. 

“You found it?” Sarah’s voice sounded so loud in your head as she grabbed the balled towel from your grip. “Holy shit.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” John B asked as he looked over as best as he could while driving.

You coughed painfully and flipped him off, “Too busy dying, Booker.”

Cleo praised your efforts, calling you a rockstar and every other achievement in the book but you couldn’t hear over the noises that were setting in your skull. Every movement felt like an attack on your skin as your friends lifted you and JJ from the car into what you assumed was the hospital.

John B’s arm was tight around your waist as he and Cleo carried your weighted form. Your brother informed the hospital staff everything you couldn’t hear and the next thing you knew, you were surrounded by red lights and metal with JJ’s body next to you. 

A pained whimper left your throat as you collapsed against the mattress that was beneath you, curling into your side again to try and disappear from it all. JJ’s own sounds of distress were hurtful to hear so you forced yourself to turn over to see him. Every muscle in your body felt like it was on fire, but you managed to grab his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. 

“I got you,” You whispered quietly as the room darkened and quieted. It took a few minutes but everything seemed to slow down. Your muscles were still tense and cramping, but you could hear and see better than 15 minutes ago, which was a plus.

JJ’s breathing evened out, and even though you were sure he was sleeping, you refused to take your hand out of his. You caught movement in your peripheral and shifted to see your brother standing in the doorway, watching you carefully.

A coil smile tugged your lips as you flipped him off with your free hand, which was easily returned by him. His mouth moved slow enough for you to read out “I love you, dumbass” before he disappeared from your vision and you fell into the best sleep of your life. 

-- 

It was hard to tell how much time had passed that you lay there with JJ, the two of you breathing softly. You swore your heart was beating too loud that he could hear it, but you were just relieved to have your body back to yourself.

A nurse had come by not too long ago to explain the effects of the nitrogen in your blood and how the treatment process would go from there. You tried your best to listen, but your head was so heavy and exhausted that it was difficult. 

“Babe.”

You hummed in response to JJ’s whisper, your eyes still closed as you rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady in your ear, a reminder that the two of you were still here together and would be okay.

“You almost died.” You shifted slightly to look at him, twisting your leg between his to get impossibly closer, and pushed up on your hands to see him fully. His eyes were wet, and he looked so, so stressed. “I should’ve never let you go down there.”  

A small smile graced your lips as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Then who would’ve saved your life?”

“Technically, I saved your life so-“

“Okay,” You laughed quietly and settled back against him, pressing another kiss to his jawline. “We both saved each other, yeah?”

His hands were warm as they curled around your bare shoulder to hold you, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs and love inside the small space you were given. “Would’ve never forgiven myself if you didn’t make it out of there.”

“I told you, where you go, I go,” You mumbled into his chest. “That includes tiny ass hyperbaric chambers, too.”

A small laugh left his lips before he kissed you, humming at the sensation it always gave him when you were soft like this. He loved nothing more than sharing moments so sweet and comforting with you. Like you were a calm in the storm that was always ready to strike.

“You know, we’re in here for twelve hours,” You hinted as you looked up into his gaze. “You got anything to do?”

He followed your insinuation and smiled like he had just won the lottery. “Oh, sweetheart. Have I told you I love you lately?”

Hours passed in heated kisses, soft touches, and shared giggles as you and JJ loved each other back to life. It was easy to tell when he wanted more, but you refused to share that part of him in a shitty hospital of all places, despite how much he pleaded with you. 

Nurses spewed hospital talk left and right as you tried to enjoy your last few minutes of peace in JJ’s arms. Your time together was almost up, twelve hours turning into 30 minutes before you knew it and part of you was sad to leave it all. As much as you hated confined spaces and hospitals both, you loved having no distractions between you and JJ. It wasn’t often the two of you had the privacy to be vulnerable with each other, especially in a house with siblings and friends, so this was your slice of heaven for the time you had it.

“Hey,” JJ mumbled, pulling you out of your almost-nap. “Babe, wake up. Hey, look at me.”

You shifted lazily, not expecting to be woken up so suddenly but the panic in his voice snapped you out of it. “What? What’s wrong?”

He was frantic as he leaned above you. “There was a guy in the hall just now. I think it was the guy, the dude from the wreck. He-he had a wound right where I got him underwater with the spear gun-“

“Did he see you?” You attempted to get him to focus, to which he nodded. “Great, so he knows we’re here.”

“We gotta get out.”

You sighed and flopped back against the pillows, “Jayj, we have like 10 minutes. Just don’t make a scene and-“

“Ma’am! Miss!” His hand smacked against the window facing the hallway as he attempted to get someone’s attention.”

“JJ!” You grabbed his arm to stop the loud noise as he tried to tell the nurse who the man was and why you needed out. You managed to shove JJ away from the window that he was prepping to kick out. “Hey! Chill!”

The nurse seemed to notice the two of you were in distress and walked closer to hear better. “Just give me like 90 seconds and we’ll get you out, okay?”

“Hey!” He protested and stumbled back to look at you with a panic in his eyes.

You grabbed his face to focus his attention. “Babe, 90 seconds, okay. If we kick the window out, it’s gonna cause a scene and Shoupe will be on our ass, okay? 90 seconds.”

JJ groaned loudly and leaned against the metal wall behind him. The need to fight had him tense, every muscle in his body telling him to run and take you with him no matter what. You knew it had a lot to do with his dad. The first sign of danger made him anxious and jumpy and the quicker he could get everyone to safety, the better. 

What didn’t help was him yelling the second the nurse let you both out, shouting about the man in the room next door who tried to kill the two of you. 

“JJ!” You reached after him as he moved toward the hallway, barely giving you time to crawl out.

“I’m going to buy you some time, meet me outside!”

You didn’t have a second to argue as he started yelling at the nurses about being left in the chamber too long. Security moved in quickly after in an attempt to calm him down and you watched, horrified, as they started to take him outside. 

“I’m gonna file a formal complaint!” He yelled, managing to make eye contact with you as he did. “Okay? File a formal complaint!”

You caught on to his emphasis and cursed under your breath. In his defense, he managed to make enough of a scene that a few patients spilled into the hallway, one male with a bandage on his arm included which gave you the answer you were looking for. 

Moving as unsuspiciously as you could, you slid into the room across from the chamber you’d been in. The first thing you caught sight of was the amount of bloody bandages and you quickly turned away from them to focus on the area of the room that wasn’t contaminated.

“File, file, file,” Your voice was low as you searched for any sign of the paper but came up empty-handed. “Shit.”

Figuring the nurse’s station was the next best bet, you started your path there, trying to look like a visitor in a place you most certainly stood out from in your swim shorts, top, and John B’s floral shirt. Thankfully, JJ was still causing enough trouble that you were able to spot the wound picture from the pile of papers and snatch it from the desk, quickly tucking it into your chest and making your way to the exit. 

“Guys!” You caught sight of Heyward’s truck, Cleo and Pope sitting inside expectantly for you and JJ, and started running in their direction. 

“What’s the rush, girl? Where’s your man?” Cleo popped her head out the window to get a closer look at you.

You didn’t spare the time to answer and stepped on the back tire to push yourself into the bed of the truck. “JJ’s coming, just drive!”

Pope didn’t hesitate to put the car in gear and take off down the exit road from the hospital. Thankfully, JJ must’ve thought the same idea and was coming out the side entrance, down the hill. He spared no time and braced against the side of the truck to jump in before the vehicle even came to a stop. 

“Are you okay?” Your question was left unanswered as he tumbled into the bed with no grace whatsoever. From first glance, he was unharmed, and you hoped that remained true. 

“You guys know that guy that was down at the wreck and tried to kill us?” JJ rushed out as he spoke to Cleo and Pope through the open back window. “He was there!”

“At the hospital with you?” Pope questioned as he drove away from the building.

“Yes! He was getting stitched up where I got him in with the harpoon gun!”

You handed the file that you’d taken in for Cleo to read, wanting to spare yourself the images of his wound while knowing she had her head on straight unlike you from the adrenaline rush. She took it and scanned the information written. 

“Cheese on bread. You two gonna get yourselves killed!”

--

navigation -- series masterlist

[mihii-i]

tides.

Pairings: navia x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, siren au, pirate/sailor reader (whatever u want it to be lol), wlw, girls kissing obv, sesbian lex muahahaha, men can interact but uhm it might be awkward bc navia talks about how much she hates men (sorry :( ), officer the sex comes outta nowhere, who is this diva, no seriously I made navia extra sassy here, virgin reader, underwater sex idfk?, fingering, kinda vanilla, marking, breast play ig, written when I am VERY sleepy, not proofread.

A/N: I would no joke let navia- I mean who said that. this is part of @edgeray ‘s halloween event :3 🕯️

Splashes of ocean water ripped through the wavering currents in the cold dead of night, patterns of stars decorating the sky alongside the moon as the only faint light source in the clearing as she ship rocked from side to side. You stared down the ledge of the large ship, sail standing proud directly behind you as you inched closer to the edge to drown out the obnoxious hollers of your crewmates. The relentless voyage stretched out for an agonizingly extended period of time—months possibly. Before you, the endless stretch of the ocean consumed your sights altogether, becoming the only thing filling your sights as the consuming waves engulfed the previous body of water trailing behind you.

Your crewmates had never failed to remain a pain in the ass as well, constantly taunting you and disrupting your peace with an insolent remark hurled at you as their irritating laughter erupted throughout the ship. On top of the sloppy lifestyle the men on the ship had shared, it didn’t exactly help that you were one of the few women present on the ship. Or maybe you were the only one? You had lost track at this point.

Regardless, you always scoffed at the unkempt behaviors of your crewmates advancing toward you or spitting useless nonsense toward you in an attempt to mansplain something, disgust boiling up inside you. You merely attempted to drown out their presence as nothing more than white noise circling the clearing, cutting through the initially peaceful silence of the quiet waves and gentle air. Yet, it was still as if you had been cursed with remaining in a trashed wooden sail afloat in the middle of nowhere surrounded by people who would probably murder you if they had the chance to. That’s what they’d do to any crewmate who was the least bit civilized atleast.

Sighing, your eyes lowered shut, lashes briefly brushing onto your skin. You savored the cool air grazing your face, which out outstretched to gaze upward as if you had offered yourself to the unending void of a sky to come take you away. Sometimes, you pondered if it would be better for you to just escape your responsibility as a pirate. Leaving behind the life of plundering and theiving to carve a new path of what you wanted. Maybe then you atleast wouldn’t be awoken by the stinging smell of booze engulfing your room in the middle of your rest as some drunken crewmate would rummage through your belongings unprompted.

“(Name)! The hell you staring out for- for that long? You’re not tryna avoid us, yeah?”

You pursed your lips quietly, shoulders hunching up as you gripped the edge of the boat tightly, fingers dragging along the raw wood. His voice was nothing but a pestering vibration that rang in the air, only serving to gauge your annoyance further.

“Maybe I am? Leave me alone. I don’t want to join your cheap ship tavern with rum and puke.”

He rolled his eyes in response, clearing his throat as he brought a hand to his chest to surpress his own gulp of drinks bubbling up in his throat.

“Ugh. You’re no fun. But for once nah, we want everyone to come around since we saw something poking out of the water. Seemed like a huge catch for a fish maybe.”

Upon hearing his words, you couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow in mild skepticism. Perhaps those were the rushes of water thumping against the fervent currents, splashing a few pools of salty ocean water onto the edge of the ship occasionally. Curious, you made your way over to the large array of crewmates pinned up to the ledge, peering down at the ripples of water followed by strong currents grazing along the base of the ship.

A…fish? Had everyone drank too much? There weren’t much fish around this part of the sea visible to a sailor’s naked eye. They typically presided in the deep pressure of the ocean around here.

Maybe your crewmates never left behind their idiotic sense of fascination. That would be the most plausible answer as to why their eyes seemed to be tracing nothing. A disappointed groan left the crew members one by one as they detached themselves from the ledge, disappointed as they trudged back into their respective cabins at the lack of anything particularly eye catching. Morons.

“(Name)! Keep watch again for us, will you?”

You couldn’t do much to be fair, besides heave a disappointed groan and shoot your drunken crewmate a disdainful glare as he flashed you that shit eating grin, stumbling over to his room before slamming the door behind him. And so there you stood. Still in the middle of the rocking ship like an unmovable stone, weighing down on the creaking floorboards wavering beneath you as the violent thrusts of the ocean continued to slice through your ears.

It felt quite unnatural, as if something presiding in the growingly murky waters of the sea torrented the initially neutral water gently splashing along the sea. The moonlit sky reflected in the still clear ripples of the ocean, your eyes squinting as you caught the pale light shining along the edge of a curved obstacle protruding to the surface from below the naked eye. Furrowing your brows, you shielded the top of your eyes, focusing your vision on the intrusion abnormally poking out of the currents.

Mind clouded with confusion, the fog around the area only grew thicker as the clouds occasionally masked the darkened sky. Suddenly, your swirling thoughts began to subside as your tense muscles relaxed, grip on the wood ledge loosening as a serene melody hummed through the air, the effects it brought upon clearing your mind almost intoxicating. You breathed out calmly, hearing the beautiful voice of a woman float alongside the swishes of water as you felt yourself slowly leaning further and further along the ledge.

Her sweet voice only entranced you further and further, drawing you in as it grew more prominent. Longing to push past the ledge to take in her velvety voice closer to you. However you couldn’t help but feel the unnerving sting faltering your longing thoughts, trying to fight back with a drop of rationality while you pushed against the edge closer, face nearly coming into contact with the circling waves. Who could possibly singing this late? And who would there even be to sing in the middle of nowhere?

You saw the object curve out of the surface of the ocean past the clearing, now nearing your line of sight and making itself more clear in the dim moonlight rolling along the waters to illuminate the bare minimum in a close proximity. Now getting a clearer look, the object nearly resembled that of a fish’s tail, a pretty shade of light blue spanning along each subtle scale along it. What an odd color for a fish, perhaps that’s what your crewmates saw earlier, as it was the only fish that could see so far. In fact— it happened to be as big as you recalled from what the others pointed out.

Your tongue flattened against the roof of your mouth in anticipation, feeling an uneasiness churning in your stomach as the scaled ridge rippled closer and closer to the side of the boat. However instead of backing away, you found yourself peering over the ledge, hands tightened at the rim of the ship as the splintering wood grazed your calloused hands. Leaping over, you thudded down onto the boat with a soft ‘oof,’ your thoughts screaming at you internally to question if you were insane. You knew your curiosity outmatched your rationality, yet you couldn’t help but be drawn to the sea blue tail peeking out from the waves, and complimented by the moonlight.

What met your eyes next was quite a sight to behold, your jaw nearly dropping from the radiance that blinded your eye. A stunning woman arched above the surface of the water in one swift motion, head tilted back as her near cinematic entrance sent droplets of water seeming to float in the air around her in slow motion. Her starry blue eyes locked onto your form, bottom lip glistening a gorgeous tint of pink to compliment her honey blonde hair spilling down her shoulders.

Her gaze snapped up to you in less than a single second, heavy eyes opening up a bit as she raised her eyebrows in slight surprise to take in your seated form on the dock. You didn’t expect The gorgeous lady to hoist herself up from the sea, hands planted at either side of your waist as she rose herself to the edge of the ship where you sat, face dangerously close. Instinctively, you hunched your shoulders back, leaning your head back to harbor more space between your faces—yet, the woman closed the gap each time, the tip of her nose brushing against yours as you felt her soaked skin graze against yours.

Raising an eyebrow, she kept that unmoving indifferent expression, sinking herself down into the sea once more as she rested her arms along the wood. The end of her tail briefly peeked out of the ocean’s bristling surface, her cheek pressed against her resting hands as her head tilted to the side, gaze immediately snapping back to you as you swore that the corner of her lip slightly curved up in a smile.

“Huh. I expected something I could drag down again.” She finally spoke, her expression growing more and more amused upon observing your confusion. She leaned back with a sigh, pink tinted lips gleaming under the light as the reflections of the water silhouetted her form. “I surely didn’t think to encounter someone so…gorgeous. Fully expected some middle aged drunkard.”

Your eyes remained fixed on the oddly shaped fin structures in place of her ears, not even registering her words completely out of the initial shock that stung you just now. Had you just encountered a live mermaid? You thought they were just tales employed by a bunch of sailors for their own laughs.

Now looking at her upfront…the draconic fins, frail body, those deadpan eyes tracing you, all the characteristics fit that of a siren instead.

Noticing your blank gaze staring at possibly nothing, she rose her hand to hover over your cheek carefully, puffing out a quick sigh at your absentmindedness. Quickly, you rushed back to your senses, blinking to ground yourself back into reality for a moment.

“Don’t be like that, dear sailor. A pretty girl like you isn’t nameless, correct?” She hummed, a subtle smirk crossing her features as she tilted her head to come face to face with you. The way her head had angled as if it were to intersect your lips, sky blue eyes flickering to your quivering lower lip being nothing short of gesturing a kiss, her stance as her arms elevated her up to level with you being oddly…intimate.

“Are you..a siren?”

Her eye twitched, brows knitted together in mild frustration in less than the blink of an eye as her fingers dug into the wood to maintain her composure. You clasped a hand over your mouth defensively, seeming to realize far too late that perhaps you shouldn’t have asked such a question so- upfront when she was the one who inquired your name in a playful manner first.

She reached up her hand to her forehead, bridge of her nose situated between her thumb and forefinger in annoyance as she pushed out a breath to calm herself. God, the one sailor she took interest in, she wanted to fucking murder in this moment.

“Are you serious? I asked you a question, clearly interested, and that’s what you ask me?”

“Sorry..”

“Fuck it. It’s fine. Not like you’re someone trying to hunt me down only to be killed.”

She paused, eyes narrowing as she took note of the expectant look remaining on your face, clearly still wanting the answer to your abruptly dumb question earlier. Scoffing, she rolled her eyes, unamused by your clueless antics.

“Yes. I am. Happy? Name’s Navia, now if it isn’t so hard to tell me your name like I did to you?”

You flinched at her sudden aggression, tilting your head bashfully. Guess she really didn’t like the moment getting ruined.

“..(Name).”

Navia hummed softly in approval, velvety voice spurring against her throat in a gentle exhale of breath. Her hand dragged along yours, a spark flying through you upon feeling her soaked skin stick to yours so closely. Evidently so, you had piqued the sea creature’s interest quite a bit, your breathing shallowing out upon feeling a chill envelope your whole body, goosebumps blooming against your exposed skin along with the chilling winds.

“Gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful. It suits someone as beautiful as you.”

You couldn’t help but allow the burning heat to creep up to your cheeks, blood rushing to your head as you felt your face grow hot from the faint red tint.

“So why aren’t you killing me, Navia?”

Tapping her chin thoughtfully for a moment, Navia flashed you a smile, pressing her chest to the edge of the dock to speak with you a bit closer.

“I dunno. Saw a sailor that wasn’t a drunk moron eating at anything that’s money, sailor happened to be a pretty girl, and everything happened from there I guess.” She answered in a lighthearted tone, nails digging into the wood of the ship to ground herself. Just so happened the sweet siren here had pretty sharp nails, pointed at the tips just at the right amount to cut open human flesh to the bone.

“So…I say..if you wanna live unlike what I think I wanna do to your crewmates..”

Her hands suddenly shifted over to your thighs draped over the edge, planting them down for support against you. By now, you had to choke back the rapid breaths catching in your throat, heart feeling it was going to beat right out of your chest as it thudded against your insides violently. Of course you couldn’t help it, you felt somewhat aroused by the sight of a gorgeous woman, who so happened to be an exotic sea creature looming over you with her palms planted onto your clothed thighs. You’d never let her outright know that though.

Navia’s cool breath suddenly fanned against your cheek, pretty pink lips alarmingly close as she grazed them along the shell of your ear. Still held up impressively by her mere arm strength pushing her up to come face to face with you. Her bare body brushed against the loose fabric of your shirt puffed out, draped over you as the neckline formed a V shape over the opening of your chest.

Her sharp fragrance of saltwater clawed at the back of your throat as you took in her scent as she leaned against you chest to chest now, the strong tonicity being substituted with a much more pleasantly mellow aroma presenting itself for you to breathe in. Your head spun as your pupils flickered in Navia’s wake, her nails still dug into your thighs temptingly as she had probably torn parts of the cloth and poked holes into your pants. Clicking her tongue, her breath hitting your ear only served to further heighten your lust blinded haze, flinching as her pointed teeth grazed along your ear as she spoke once more to complete her dangling thought.

“Come underwater with me. I promise I won’t kill you or anything. It’ll feel…nice.”

“How am I supposed to do that? I’m human, I can’t just dunk myself underwater and be expected to breathe the whole time.”

Navia merely grumbled at your naive response, biting the inside of her cheek. You only cocked your head to the side, puzzled by her random changes in demeanor in this moment.

“(Name). I get that you live with your braindead crewmates, but surely acting like some virgin will get you nowhere around me.”

“Ah..”

You pursed your lips at her remark, dozing your gaze off to the side in embarrassment. Sweat patterned along your back as the tides began to assault your ankles now, the water refreshingly warm in contrast to Navia’s hypothermic body temperature adhering droplets of water along every inch of your own. She feigned an expression of shock at your bashful hesitation, bringing her hand to her lips in a gesture that made you huddle in a bit from embarrassment.

“Don’t tell me…you haven’t-?”

You shook your head, clearing your throat to distract yourself—and her—from the fact that your face was a scorching scarlet hue from the fairly lewd topic at hand.

“Well then…if you come with me I can fix that..? What do you say, (Name)?”

Her teasing voice only spurred you further to dart your sights down to her hands now subtly parting your thighs, the beautiful gradient of her nails sharpened along her skin quickening your breathing as you choked back a whine from her evidently seductive motions. A single nod was all that was needed as her hands shot up from between your legs to snake around your neck, grasping on as she clawed at your nape all of a sudden. An involuntary gasp left you upon feeling the sting of her nails along the back of your neck, breath held between your cheeks the moment she fell back into the sea, dragging you along with her.

Sinking deeper into the rushing blue waters circling you, Navia’s arms remained locked around your neck, tail shielding your leg for additional support as you descended down into the depths of the ocean. The minute you hit a strange sort of dome in which you could breathe underwater, you in fact—couldn’t exactly breathe properly. Your legs pressed together as jolts of pleasure enveloped your body, a high rush overtaking you as you noticed Navia wasting absolutely no time as she held you down into the sand.

Rasped out mewls began to endlessly spill from your lips as your hips mindlessly bucked forward into Navia’s touch, her middle and ring finger knuckles deep in your cunt as she parted your walls to accommodate her fingers splitting you open. Ecstasy clouded your mind at her intoxicating touch, nails brushing up against that one spot within you as her freehand was clasped around your wrists to hold you down.

Every worry you had embedded in your mind, every issue that had haunted you on your journey had faded away under her touch, your lips parted as a string of noises followed through with each relentless thrust of her fingers curling your warm, velvety walls. Her movements remained somewhat gentle, yet fervent as heat clouded the two of you in the intense moment, teeth pressed against the exposed skin of your throat to muffle a moan fighting against her lips.

Perhaps her mind had also been relieved in this moment while she fucked you underwater. The constant unprovoked attacks from wandering sailors, sudden encounters with people who had never caught her eye in the moment, Navia just needed to get away from it all. And you were perfect for her. It’s as if the gods had bestowed upon her a sailor with lips as sweet as saccharine. And the minute she raised her head from your throat to glance over at your face twisted in lust, her lips found their way to crash against yours, tongue brushing along your bottom lip any chance she got in that hungry kiss she captured you with.

Sure enough, you tasted sweet just like she theorized.

Your intoxicating scent, the sweetness of your lips, your moans vibrating against her mouth while her fingers drove in and out at a steady, yet roughened pace to slam against your cunt…

It was all so fucking perfect.

Bright red hickeys bloomed in a trail of fire against your exposed skin, your gasps increasing in pitch and frequency as her thumb brushed along your exposed nipple. A near scream boiled in your throat as Navia’s own noises reverberated against your lips, your breaths growing quicker as a third finger entered the heavenly mix. You frantically reached a hand up to grip onto her bare back tightly, nails raking down her pale skin as she threw her head back to choke out a little whimper.

“N-Navi- please…m’gonna-“

—

Breathing heavily, you lay fully clothed. Back flush against the edge of the ship once more, staring at the sky aimlessly as your now soaked clothing pooled out drains of seawater onto the dock. You craned your neck over, glancing at the siren who hoisted you back up as you seemed to be completely out of breath. A smile stretched her lips at your exhausted form, innocently waving as she fluttered her fingers. Huh. Acting like she didn’t just fuck the life out of you with those.

Navia’s chin rested along the edge of the boat once more, leaning over to plant a sweet kiss against your cheek. You were too spent to move at all, yet you still smiled weakly as you lay like starfish outstretched in water on the boat. She chuckled, eyes briefly flickering to the visible marks on your neck not covered by your clothes.

“Will I be seeing you again in this part of the sea, (Name)?”

“Without a doubt. Just make sure I can move next time.”

“Not my fault you have no experience.”

“Oh come on..I promise I’ll be the one on top next time, ‘kay?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You rasped out a strained laugh, smiling at Navia as she lowered herself back into the water before flashing you a quick wink.

“I’ll see you around, my sweet sailor.”

And just like that, she disappeared into the depths of the water. Leaving you on your back, all soaked and marked up as your clothes stuck to you body in a transparent fashion.

Hell, maybe you’ll bring her something next time.

A/N: PLEASE DONF HAVE HIGH EXPECTATIONS THIS CAME OUT SO BAD IM SO SLEEPI LEAB ME ALONEEEE WAAAAAA

okay jk yall are awesome but IM SLEEPY. GOODNIGHT.

[nylqnder]

TREACHEROUS LUKE HUGHES

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: this slope is treacherous, this path is reckless. this slope is treacherous and you like it.

warnings: loosely based on 'treacherous' by taylor swift, childhood friends to lovers, heated make out, luke & reader being awkward a little bit, appearances from jack, quinn, mark, and ethan

word count: 5.06k

notes: literally the longest thing i've ever written omg but i hope you guys enjoy!!

The summer sun blazed down on the lake house, casting bright rays onto the water and the worn-down wooden dock, where you and Luke sat side by side, your fingers inches apart but never touching. The shimmering lake stretched out before you, a mirror reflecting the clear blue sky and the occasional ripple from a passing boat. It was the familiar scene of your summers, but this summer felt different — more charged, more intense.

You and Luke had always been inseparable since childhood. The backyard games, the bike races down the hill, the late-night chats under the stars—those moments had forged a bond that felt unbreakable. But beneath the surface of that easy camaraderie, there had always been something more—a secret, unspoken longing that neither of you had dared to voice. As you both grew older, the simple crushes you had harboured blossomed into something more profound, but you both chose to keep those feelings hidden, afraid of ruining the one relationship that had always been your rock.

This summer, as you and Luke reunited at the lake house, the tension between you was palpable. The familiar comfort of your shared experiences was now tinged with a new, almost unbearable intensity. Every look you exchanged seemed to linger longer than usual, every touch felt more significant. The boundary between friendship and something more had become increasingly blurred, and it was becoming harder to ignore.

One morning, as you were in the kitchen making breakfast, Luke appeared in the doorway. His presence was as familiar as the morning sun, but today, there was something different in his eyes—an earnestness that made your heart race.

“Hey, wanna go on a boat ride with me?” he asked, his voice casual but with an undertone that you couldn’t quite place.

You glanced up from your toast, meeting his gaze. “Yeah, sure,” you replied, a slight smile tugging at your lips as you finished buttering your piece of toast. “Quinn and Jack coming?”

“No, no,” he said shaking his head, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Just me ‘n you.”

The simplicity of his offer was almost too loaded to process. You could feel the heat of the sun on your skin and the way the space between you seemed to shrink. You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

“Y-yeah sounds good,” you say. “Just let me finish breakfast and then I’ll go get ready.”

“Of course, take your time,” Luke said, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned and left the kitchen. You finished your breakfast in a daze, your mind racing with thoughts about the boat ride.

After breakfast, you quickly changed into your swimsuit, grabbing a hoodie from the pile of clothing that accumulated on the armchair in the corner of your room. You examined it quickly, realizing it was one of Luke’s Michigan hoodies that you had borrowed earlier in the week during a bonfire.

You found Luke waiting at the dock, the boat bobbing gently in the water. “Ready?” he asked, his voice steady as he helped you onto the boat.

“Yeah,” you replied, settling into one of the seats. The boat ride started out in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the lapping of water against the hull. As the boat moved further out onto the lake, Luke kept glancing at you, his eyes flicking from the water to your face as if he were trying to gauge your mood.

It wasn’t until you approached the tiny, rocky island, that you realized where Luke was taking you. It was the small island you’d found when just after Luke had gotten his boater’s licence. It had become your own little private oasis that the two of you would visit just to relax, using the privacy of the space to talk about whatever had been bothering you or whatever was on your mind.

Luke put the boat in neutral, allowing it to slowly float up to the rocky shore. He hopped out, steadying it before the bottom would scrape, then turned to you. "Hand me the anchor."

You obliged, tossing the towels to him first, then reaching for the small anchor. As you handed it over, Luke teased, “Not too heavy for you?”

You rolled your eyes behind your shades. “It’s like 13 pounds, Luke. Fuck off.”

He snorted, taking it from your hands and lodging it on a nearby rock. “Here, take my hand so you don’t fall on your face.” Luke said, extending his hand to help you down onto the shore.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, though Luke couldn’t see that behind your shades. You grabbed his hand, feeling the heat of the sun still clinging to his skin. As you hopped down, your foot slipped on the wet surface, and for a split second, you thought you were about to fall face-first into the water.

But Luke’s grip tightened, his other hand reaching out to catch you by the waist, steadying you before you could stumble any further. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he murmured, his voice soft, yet steady.

Your heart skipped a beat, and as you stood there for a moment, pressed against him, you could feel the tension thick between you. “Thanks,” you breathed out, stepping back once you found your balance, though the warmth of his hand lingered.

You moved to the towels Luke had tossed onto the sun-warmed rocks moments ago, straightening one out and lying on it, putting your arm over your eyes. Luke lingered by the boat a moment longer, watching you, his heart still pounding. He took a deep breath and sat beside you, staring out at the water, wondering how much longer he could pretend nothing had changed.

You sat in silence, the birds cawing in the air and the splashing water providing a nice background noise. Luke glanced over at your body lying just a foot away from him, your tanned skin glistening under the beating Michigan sun. Luke couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He felt dirty for staring at you like this; staring at your chest that was just barely covered by a teal bikini, rising and falling rhythmically as you breathed. Your stack of gold necklaces rested on your clavicle and Luke couldn’t fight off the thoughts about marking your collarbone with lovebites.

“I missed this,” you said suddenly, Luke snapping his head forward to focus on the water that lapped steadily against the shore.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake the heat that consumed him — not just from the sun, but from the way his mind was racing. “Missed what?”

“This,�� you replied with a soft smile, lifting a hand to gesture around. “The lake, the sun, the quiet… just being here. It feels like nothing else matters for a while, you know?”

Luke let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He dared to glance over at you again, this time his eyes landing on your head — your eyes were still covered by your arm, but he had the perfect view of your plump lips, as well as the way the sunlight caught in your hair, making it shine like it was woven with gold.

Luke shifted uncomfortably, forcing his eyes to the water once again, trying to ignore the fire burning inside him. He wanted to say something — anything — to break the silence, but his mind was a mess, tangled with everything he’d been holding back for so long.

“I get that,” he finally managed, his voice quiet. “Feels like… everything else just disappears out here.”

You nodded, still lying back with your arm draped over your eyes. “Yeah, exactly. No distractions. Just us.”

The simplicity of your words hit him harder than he expected. “Just us.” Luke bit the inside of his cheek, knowing full well how dangerous those two words felt right now. He was suddenly acutely aware of how close you were — the soft rise and fall of your chest, the small space between your bodies.

You sat up, stretching your arms over your head, the movement catching Luke’s attention again. You glanced at him, your eyes hidden behind sunglasses but the tension was palpable. “You okay?”

Luke nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” You tilted your head, watching him curiously.

Luke’s eyes involuntarily traced your face, landing on your lips a moment longer. Your breath hitched, the air between you charged with something unspoken but very real. “Yeah… really good.”

And just like that, the distance between you vanished.

It happened fast, almost like you both decided at the same moment. One second you were staring at him, heart racing, and the next his lips were on yours, the kiss electric and urgent. You didn’t know who moved first, and you didn’t care.

All the years of restraint, of not crossing the line, melted away as your lips moved together. Your hands found Luke’s curls, tugging on them slightly which elicited a groan from him. You moved onto his lap, no longer oblivious to the physical toll you had taken on Luke. His hands hesitated at first, but then they slid down your sides, his touch searing. He traced down your ribcage, onto your waist, then finally settled on your ass.

The kiss deepened, both of you getting lost in the moment as the years of pent-up tension finally released in waves. You tugged on his roots, causing him to squeeze your ass tightly, a low grumbling coming from his throat. Your fingers untangled from his brown locks, tracing down Luke’s shoulders and onto his torso, feeling the curves of his abs under your fingertips. Luke shivered beneath you despite the burning sun that shone down.

You finally pulled back, the both of you gasping for air, your chests rising and falling rapidly. Your gaze dropped to his slightly swollen lips, then to his bare chest glistening in the sunlight. The intensity of the moment suddenly caught up to you — his hands still gripping your ass, his body warm and hard beneath yours. You realized the position you were in, straddling him, looking dishevelled as one of your bikini straps had slipped down your shoulder, exposing a deep tan line.

Luke’s eyes followed the movement, his pupils blown wide as he swallowed hard. The weight of everything you two had held back over the years came crashing down on him. His grip on your waist loosened, his hands hovering as he was unsure of what to do next. You felt the tension in the air shift, both of you realizing you’d crossed a line that you couldn’t un-cross, no matter how badly the two of you have wanted to all along.

“Oh, God,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you pulled back slightly. “What did we just do?”

Luke ran a hand through his hair, looking as freaked out as you felt. His cheeks were flushed, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the kiss or the heat. “I don’t know. I—” He looked down, then back at you. “Does this change everything?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your mind racing with all the implications of what just happened. “I…we should head back.”

You swung your leg back over Luke, standing up and quickly walking back towards the boat. You grabbed your hoodie and threw it on despite the heat, feeling like you needed to cover yourself, needing something to hide behind. Luke sat there for a moment longer, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you retreat. He ran his hands over his face, trying to make sense of what happened, but the feeling of your body pressed against his lingered too heavily. His mind was a mess of excitement and confusion, with lingering sentiments of regret as he couldn’t help but feel that everything was screwed now. Luke stood up quickly, jogging to catch up to you, but the air between you was thick and awkward now.

The boat ride back to the lake house was silent, and the roar of the motor made it easy for neither of them to face the reality of the situation. You sat in the front hold, knees tucked to your chest, staring out at the water as it splashed against the sides of the boat, stray droplets hitting your skin. Luke sat in the driver's seat, gripping the wheel a little too tightly, sneaking glances at you every few seconds.

As the lake house came into view, you stood up quickly, ready to jump out as soon as you were close enough to the dock. Your heart was still racing, no longer from excitement, but from the overwhelming sense of reality that had come crashing down. All the unspoken tension, all the nights you spent wondering if this would ever happen, it had—too fast, too soon. You didn’t know how to face it, how to face Luke.

The second the boat docked, you jumped out onto the wooden pier, barely pausing to steady yourself. You grabbed the rope, helping Luke quickly tie up the boat, before starting up the dock towards the house.

Luke hopped out, following you closely. “Wait, can we talk for a sec?” he called after you, his voice shaky, filled with desperation.

But you were already halfway to the house, your footsteps quickening. “I…I need a minute, Luke,” you replied without turning around, feeling your chest tighten with the weight of everything.

Luke stood there for a moment, watching you disappear inside. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he ran a hand through his hair again, frustrated with himself. He knew that something had changed between you before this but now this was something that was going to be impossible to ignore.

Inside the house, you hurried up the stairs to your room, closing the door softly behind you before sinking onto the edge of the bed. Your heart was still pounding, not from the brisk walk you’d just done to escape Luke, but instead as you replayed the kiss in your head — how natural it had felt, how long you had waited for it, and yet how terrifying it was now that it had happened. You buried your face in your hands, trying to slow the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

As the sun set over the lake, the tension between you and Luke didn’t go unnoticed by the others at dinner. You didn’t sit in your normal spots next to each other, instead sitting at opposite ends of the table, avoiding eye contact, and only speaking when necessary. You kept in conversation with Mark, bringing up just about anything you could think of to avoid interacting with Luke. The energy felt heavy, and no one could ignore how different things seemed between you two.

After dinner, it didn’t take long for the others in the house to confront you and Luke about what had happened that afternoon. Luke found himself outside on the back porch with Quinn and Jack, while you were cornered inside playing pool with Mark and Ethan.

Quinn and Jack watched as their little brother swirled his glass over and over, the sound of the liquid sloshing and the crickets chirping being the only sounds around them. Quinn leaned back in his chair, studying his brother carefully. His bottom lip was bright red from how hard Luke had been chewing on it, his eyes unfocused on the glass in his hand. Luke, uncharacteristically, hadn’t said anything in about 10 minutes. Normally he’d find a way to get his two cents in during every conversation, but his silence was overwhelming

“Alright, what’s going on? You and y/n have been acting weird all evening.” Quinn finally asked, honestly a bit weirded out by his brother’s behaviour.

Jack chimed in, less tactful than Quinn. “Yeah, man, did something happen on the boat? You’ve both been all… tense since you came back.”

Luke snapped his eyes off his cup, and onto his brothers whose eyes were burrowing into him. He hesitated, running a hand through his messy curls, his heart still racing from earlier. He couldn’t seem to get it to slow down. “I, uh… I made a move.” Luke admitted quietly. “I kissed her, I mean… We, uh, kissed.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jack, who smiled and nodded in approval at his brother. “Finally,” he grinned. “So… was it everything you’ve ever hoped for? Did it live up to your fantasies that you’ve been dreaming of since you were fifteen?”

Luke knew Jack was poking fun at him, but as he replayed the kiss in his head, he realized it was. “It was… intense,” Luke said, choosing his words carefully. “We were chatting and then I just kissed her. Her lips… it felt like there was nothing around us when I kissed her. But…”

Luke trailed off, sinking back into his chair as the events that immediately followed replayed in his head.

“But what?” Jack probed.

Luke sighed, feeling the weight of his doubts. “After we pulled apart, I freaked out. All I could think was that I’d just ruined everything between us. I like her a lot… but I didn’t think she felt the same. And… and now I’m worried our friendship is done.”

Quinn let out a little sigh, a small smile tugging on his lips at his little brother. “Look, if it came to that point, that the two of you got close enough to make out, then it means she probably feels the same way,” Quinn said, leaning forward in his chair. “You’re not going to ruin what you two have. I promise that your friendship is strong enough to survive this.”

Jack, more relaxed, shrugged. "Yeah, you clearly like each other. Just talk to her."

Inside, the sound of pool balls clacking loudly filled the air, and no conversation was exchanged between the three of them. Mark and Ethan exchanged silent looks that were traced with unspoken words, urging the other to break the ice and ask you about what had transpired on the boat. Finally, Ethan gave in to Mark’s coaxing stares.

“So uh,” Ethan started, drawing your eyes onto him. “You gonna tell us what the fuck happened on the boat?”

Your fingers stilled on the pool cue, hesitating as you glanced between him and Mark, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Your heart thudded uncomfortably in your chest. Mark and Ethan’s eyes bore into you, expecting answers you didn’t even have for yourself. The tension from earlier had followed you inside, wrapping around your chest like a vice.

You straightened up, brushing a hand through your hair as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I… I kissed him,” you admitted, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. “Or maybe he kissed me. I don’t know… it just happened.” You let out a sigh, biting your bottom lip.

Mark raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Okay, you kissed, big fucking whoop,” he said, taking a step forward. “Explain to me, then, why are you both acting like someone just died?”

Ethan snorted, leaning his cue against the table. "Yeah, seriously. It’s not like anyone’s surprised. You’ve had this thing between you for… what? Years?"

But to you, it felt like something had. Not a person, but something sacred between you and Luke—something that had been built carefully over years of knowing one another. You had always skirted the edges of something more, but you’d never let yourselves tip over. Until today. And now everything felt fragile like the ground beneath your feet was unstable.

“It’s not that simple. Luke and I… I mean we’ve always been friends. We never crossed that line, even when it felt like we were close. And now… I don’t know. I feel like I messed it all up.”

Ethan scoffed. “Messed it up? You didn’t mess anything up. You guys finally did something that everyone’s been telling you to do for ages. Hell, it’s about time.”

Mark chimed in, his tone a bit more understanding. “Listen, I know it’s scary now that you think your friendship’s changed, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think anything’s ruined. I think this is something you’ve both wanted for a while. You’ve always liked each other, even if you both pretended not to.”

You looked down, fingers tapping nervously against the side of the pool table. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” you whispered, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you since the moment you left the boat. “I mean, I… I basically jumped on him. What if I made things awkward for him?”

Mark rolled his eyes, walking over to stand beside you. “Trust me, if Luke had a problem with it, he would’ve said something by now. You didn’t force anything. From what it sounds like, he was just as into it as you were.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Don’t overthink it. He’s probably freaking out just as much as you are. Just talk to him.”

You sighed, knowing deep down that they were right, but the anxiety still clawed at your insides. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” you admitted quietly. “We’ve been close for so long… if this messes things up, I don’t know how I’ll deal with it.”

Ethan couldn’t help but roll his eyes. No matter how many times they reassured you that your friendship wouldn’t be ruined, it was clear that your anxieties were getting the best of you. “You won’t ruin anything. I’ve seen how Luke looks at you. That guy is all in, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it anxiously. As their words sunk in, you couldn’t help but glance toward the back door, where you knew Luke was with his brothers. The thought of confronting him, of actually talking about what had happened, still terrified you. But deep down, you knew it was the only way to move forward.

Mark and Ethan’s advice echoed in your mind: Talk to him. It was scary, but you couldn’t deny the spark that had ignited between you and Luke. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more waiting for you both on the other side of this conversation.

After the conversation wound down, you couldn't help but feel the lingering tension between you and Luke. Even though Mark and Ethan’s reassurances helped ease some of your worries, the knot of uncertainty in your chest remained. It gnawed at you, the same question echoing over and over in your mind: What if this changes everything?

As the house settled into its quiet evening rhythm and the sounds of conversations faded into the background, your thoughts were still consumed by that kiss — how everything had felt so right in the moment, yet so terrifying in its aftermath. You and Luke had always danced around the possibility of something more, but now that it had finally happened, the reality of it weighed heavy on you.

Later that night, sleep refused to come, your mind running wild with the events of the day. You lay there in the quiet of your room, replaying the kiss over and over again. Every brush of Luke’s lips against yours, every touch of his hands, the way his breath had quickened as he held you close. The intensity of it all made your heart race, but so did the fear that followed.

You glanced at the clock: it was well past midnight, but sleep was the last thing on your mind. Instead, your thoughts turned to the advice Mark and Ethan had given you. Talk to him, they said. But what if talking only made things worse? What if everything fell apart? Yet, despite the fear gnawing at you, one truth remained clear: you couldn’t ignore this. You couldn’t pretend the kiss hadn’t happened or that it hadn’t meant anything. You needed to talk to Luke.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed back the covers and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your heart pounding as you quietly made your way to the door. The moment you turned the handle and pulled it open, you froze.

Luke stood there, his hand raised as if he was about to knock, his blue eyes wide in surprise. “Oh!” you gasped.

“I was just coming to talk to you,” he said, his voice soft and uncertain. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The air between you felt heavy with anticipation, and as Luke entered, the awkward tension that had been present all evening seemed to follow. You both sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a small but noticeable distance between each other. The silence was deafening as you each tried to find the right words to start.

“So…” you started, breaking the tension. “About earlier.”

“Yeah,” Luke muttered, glancing at you before looking down again. “That was… intense.”

You let out a small laugh, though it was more out of nerves than humour. “Yeah. It was.”

Luke rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he was struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I didn’t mean for it to… you know, get weird.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, it wasn’t just you. I was freaking out too. I mean, we’ve been friends for so long, and I didn’t know if this would… ruin that.”

Luke’s eyes finally met yours, and there was something vulnerable in his gaze. “I thought the same thing. But… I think we’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

You fought a smile that was grappling to show, needing to hear Luke say it. “What do you mean?”

Luke swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I want us to be more than friends. I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I didn’t think you felt the same. But after today…” He trailed off, his words hanging in the air.

“I do,” you whispered. “I’ve felt the same way for a while. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Relief washed over Luke’s face, and a small smile tugged at his lips. A matching smile formed on your lips as you thought for a moment. “How do we move forward? Like… as more than friends,” you asked.

“I think we just stay the same,” Luke shrugged. “Except now I can call you my girlfriend, and I can kiss you, and we can have sex.”

You laughed, feeling some of the tension melt away. “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Luke replied with a grin, leaning closer. “Is that okay with you?”

Your breath hitched as the space between you shrank. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”

Without another word, Luke leaned in, and this time, when your lips met, there was no hesitation. All the years of restraint, of not crossing the line, melted away as your hands found his curls, tugging them gently. A low groan escaped him as you moved into his lap, feeling the heat between you intensify. His hands slid down your body, resting on your waist before moving lower, gripping you as he pulled you closer. You could feel every inch of him beneath you, the warmth of his skin against yours. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the two of you, finally letting go of everything you’d been holding back.

The weight of the uncertainty that had been sitting between you all evening lifted, replaced by a dizzying sense of relief and excitement. Luke's hands gripped your hips firmly, grounding you in the moment. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, fast and erratic, matching the wild rhythm of your own. The connection between you had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, but now it was tangible, electric, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Luke’s lips moved against yours with a sense of urgency, wanting to taste every bit of you. His hands slid up your sides, fingers brushing your skin under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a soft sigh against his lips.

Pulling back slightly, you caught your breath as you both took a moment to come back to reality. Luke’s hands stayed on your waist, his thumbs gently brushing your skin, as if he didn’t want to let go.

“I can’t believe we waited this long,” Luke whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

You laughed softly, reaching up to his curls and gently running a hand through them. “I know, it feels kind of crazy, right?”

He chuckled, a low sound that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “We’re idiots. Could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble.”

You smiled, scanning his eyes. There was something different in them now—no more hesitation, no more uncertainty. Just Luke, as you had always known him, but also something more. “Better late than never, though,” you teased softly.

Luke's hands moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks. “You know, I meant what I said earlier,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. I just didn’t think you’d ever want me like that.”

You blinked, feeling your heart squeeze at his vulnerability. “Luke, I’ve always wanted you,” you admitted quietly, your voice shaking just slightly. “I just… I was scared.”

His gaze softened, and he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I get it. I was scared too. But I’m not scared anymore.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth flood your chest at his words. “Me either,” you whispered, brushing your fingers through his curls. “I’m not scared anymore.”

The moment cooled down, and you both slipped into a comfortable silence, basking in the newfound closeness. You moved up the bed and under the covers, wrapping yourselves in each other’s arms. The steady rise and fall of Luke’s chest and the soft sound of crickets outside lulled you into a sense of peace. With his hand gently tracing up and down your side, you nodded off, feeling the weight of all the years and uncertainty melt away, leaving only the warmth of the present.

[alchemistc]

like pulling teeth

"I need you to push," he says, like it's the worst thing he's ever said, like he's sloughed off his skin to expose muscle and nerve. His eyes are wet, and he looks like Buck's taken him through the ringer.

Five seconds ago they were talking about what to get for dinner. Tommy had been joking about how he hated Whataburger because the last time he'd had it -

He looks pained. More upset than Buck's seen him in a while. He looks ready to bolt, and that terrifies Buck. He's aware, by now, that they dig this hole themselves - Tommy with his half measures at honesty, Buck scared to push too hard and rock the boat, send someone - Tommy - running away from his issues.

But Tommy is trying, here. Tommy looks like he's tied himself to his chair so he doesn't run, tense and glued in this position. Buck's a little afraid to touch him.

There'd been a horse, up in Montana, desperate for attention but terrified of people. Buck hadn't ridden the horses, but he mucked the stalls enough to know them, and this one had been skittish as hell. An hour of talking to the guy had given him enough confidence to clop close enough for Buck to touch, but every damn time, every time, when Buck held out a hand for him to lean into, he'd snorted, head kicking around halfway to panic, and backed himself up into a corner too far away from Buck to touch.

Buck never actually managed to pet that horse.

He reaches out. Presses a hand to Tommy's knee, feels the muscles of his thigh jump under his fingers.

Tommy blows out a breath, and Buck resolves to never tell him about Gary the Quarter Horse.

"Tommy, who did you lose?"

He's bad at this part. Terrified of asking the wrong question, always pays more attention to the unspoken cue to leave it alone. But Tommy is asking him to ask.

The story comes out in fits and starts - Tommy throws in a joke that makes him scowl at himself like he's supposed to just unlearn all the ways he deals with grief overnight - Buck interrupts one too many times and nearly derails the whole conversation - Tommy tries to follow the thread of Buck's interruption and is pissed when Buck steers it back to the original point.

It's the most painfully awkward talk they've ever shared. Tommy looks like he wants to throw up for most of it. Buck wants to scream at him to stop circling the point. Tommy stands, at one point, Buck's hand on his knee coming loose in a way that feels a bit like being dumped again. When Tommy can finally meet his eyes again, it's clear he stood to hide his tears.

A training accident, a rookie so green around his gills Tommy is still convinced, years later, that it was his fault for not triple checking his certs, like that was even his job.

The Patty Melts they'd shared, on a curb outside a strip mall, two hours earlier.

When Tommy slumps back in his chair however many minutes later, he looks raw, exhausted, flayed open, but when he rolls his jaw and shoots a lopsided smile Buck's way it feels like a win.

Buck shuffles closer. Tips his head in, going for a hug, maybe a soft kiss.

Tommy tips his forehead against Buck's, blows out a breath through his lips that burrs a little on the way out, and Buck shouldn't. He really, absolutely Should Not.

He rolls his forehead against Tommy's. Bites his cheek. Gets an arm up and desperately hopes Tommy isn't as skittish in this moment as he feels.

Tommy's hand curls around Buck's, and he drags Buck's palm up his neck to cradle his jaw.

"Did I ever tell you about when I worked in Montana?"

[its-avalon-08]

laughed it off (dr3)

✦ summary - y/n overhears danny's friends being mean about her and danny just laughs along.

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, fluffy ending

The sun was shining brightly as Daniel Ricciardo and his girlfriend, Y/N, enjoyed a perfect day on a luxurious yacht with a few of Daniel's close friends. The group was lively, laughter echoing across the deck as the boat sailed smoothly through the sparkling blue water.

Y/N, as usual, was at the center of the energy, cracking jokes, dancing to the music, and playfully splashing water at Daniel. Her infectious spirit matched Daniel's own perfectly—they were a dynamic duo, known for their shared enthusiasm and zest for life.

“C’mon, Danny, let’s see those dance moves!” Y/N teased, tugging at his hand to pull him onto the makeshift dance floor at the back of the yacht.

Daniel laughed, letting himself be pulled along. “You sure you’re ready to be out-danced by an Aussie, babe?” he teased back.

“Oh, please! I’ve seen you dance, remember?” Y/N winked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

As they danced, one of Daniel’s friends, a guy Y/N hadn’t met until today, leaned over to the others and whispered something. Y/N couldn’t quite hear, but she noticed Daniel glance in their direction, his usual wide grin dimming slightly.

Feeling a bit parched, Y/N decided to grab a drink and headed toward the small bar set up near the front of the yacht. As she reached for a glass, she overheard a snippet of the conversation Daniel’s friends were having behind her, not realizing she was within earshot.

"Man, she's exhausting, isn't she?" one of them muttered, just loud enough for Y/N to hear. "Can she ever sit still? I don't know how you put up with it, Dan."

Another friend chuckled, adding, "Yeah, it's like she's always on a sugar rush or something. Must be draining to be around that all the time."

Y/N froze, her hand gripping the glass tightly as her heart plummeted. She felt like someone had just punched her in the gut. They were talking about her. Her, the girl who had thought she was fitting in perfectly with Daniel's friends, being the life of the party. But now, all she could feel was a wave of humiliation crashing over her.

She glanced over at Daniel, hoping—praying—he would say something, defend her, tell them they were wrong. But instead, she saw him chuckle softly, looking a bit awkward but not saying anything to counter their remarks.

It was as if the ground had slipped out from beneath her. Her mind raced, trying to process what she had just heard and what it meant. Did Daniel really feel the same way? Was she too much? Was her energy that overwhelming?

She quickly composed herself, forcing a smile as she approached the group. Daniel noticed her coming and smiled at her, his eyes full of the usual warmth that always made her feel safe. But now, that warmth felt like a burning sting, a reminder of the words she had just overheard.

“Hey, babe,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “I think I might need to sit this one out. I’m feeling a little queasy… Must be the sun.”

Daniel’s smile faltered with concern. “You okay, love? Do you need anything?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine,” she assured him quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just need to lie down for a bit.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and made her way to the lower deck, her heart heavy with a sadness she hadn’t felt in a long time.

time skip

Y/N couldn’t get off the yacht fast enough. She managed to keep a neutral expression during the ride home, but the moment she walked through the front door of their apartment, her carefully held composure began to crumble.

Maybe I am too much… Maybe I should tone it down… The thoughts whirled in her mind as she numbly kicked off her shoes and headed to the bedroom. Normally, she would have felt a twinge of guilt for leaving a gathering so abruptly, but all she felt now was a deep ache in her chest. She pulled out her laptop, trying to lose herself in work, anything to distract her from the sinking feeling in her heart.

The hours ticked by slowly, and before long, she heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. Daniel was home. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the encounter.

“Y/N, I’m back!” Daniel’s voice was full of its usual cheer as he walked into the bedroom, expecting to see her bounding over to him with one of her trademark hugs and kisses. But instead, he found her sitting up in bed, her laptop on her lap, staring intently at the screen.

She glanced up at him and gave a small, forced smile. “Hey,” she said softly before returning her attention to the screen. “Just finishing up some work stuff.”

Daniel frowned, his heart sinking a little. That’s… different. Usually, Y/N would leap up and throw her arms around him, peppering his face with kisses and asking him about his day with an enthusiasm that always lifted his spirits. But tonight, there was none of that. Just a quick smile and back to work.

“You okay?” he asked, trying to sound casual as he approached the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, her voice too calm, too controlled. “Just a bit tired.”

Daniel studied her for a moment, noticing how she avoided eye contact. Something’s off. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. She wasn’t usually this distant.

“Alright,” he said slowly, leaning in to kiss the top of her head, but she barely reacted, just nodding absently as she continued to type away.

She must really be tired, he thought, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling settling in his chest. But it didn’t go away.

Later, as they both got ready for bed, the sense of wrongness only grew stronger. They usually had fun together during their nighttime routine, making goofy faces in the mirror or playfully shoving each other out of the way for space at the sink. But tonight, Y/N was eerily quiet, methodically brushing her teeth and washing her face without any of the usual banter. Daniel tried to catch her eye, to get her to laugh or smile, but she seemed lost in her thoughts, distant in a way that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

What happened today? he wondered as he watched her move about the room. He wanted to ask, to push for answers, but something told him now wasn’t the time. He didn’t want to pressure her if she wasn’t ready to talk.

When they finally climbed into bed, Daniel reached out to pull her into his arms like he did every night. But to his surprise, Y/N turned the other way, her back to him.

“Goodnight,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Goodnight,” Daniel replied, though his voice was thick with confusion. What’s going on?

As Y/N lay there, facing away from him, she stared blankly at the wall, her mind replaying the cruel words she had overheard on the yacht. Her chest tightened with each memory, the laughter, the dismissive comments, and worst of all, Daniel’s silence. How can he just laugh along? Do they all think that about me? Does he? The questions spun endlessly in her mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

Daniel lay beside her, staring up at the ceiling, his heart heavy with worry. Something’s really wrong. I just don’t know what. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, to hold her, but the way she had pulled away made him hesitate. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to bridge the sudden gap between them.

The silence stretched on between them, filled with unspoken words and unresolved hurt. Neither of them slept easily that night.

time skip

Daniel woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, his hand instinctively reaching out for Y/N’s warm body beside him. But instead of finding her curled up against him as she usually was, his hand met cold, empty sheets. He blinked, groggy with sleep, his heart sinking as he registered the emptiness beside him. Where is she?

Yawning, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. It wasn’t like Y/N to be up before him, especially on a weekend. They usually spent the morning lazing around in bed, entangled in each other, exchanging lazy kisses and talking about everything and nothing. But today, the bed felt too big, too empty.

He stumbled out of the bedroom, still half-asleep, and made his way to the living room, where he heard the familiar clinking of a spoon against a coffee mug. Y/N was standing by the kitchen counter, freshly showered, her hair still damp and clinging to her neck. She was wearing her running clothes, and Daniel realized with a pang that she must have gone for a run—something she usually only did later in the day, if at all.

“Morning,” she said, glancing up at him with a small, polite smile before turning back to her coffee.

Daniel frowned, the unease from last night gnawing at him again. No morning kiss, no joke about me being the sleepyhead… He missed the way she usually greeted him, bounding over with her signature enthusiasm and peppering his face with kisses until he was fully awake.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice laced with confusion as he walked over to her. “You’ve been out running?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “Just needed to clear my head a bit.”

Daniel leaned against the counter, searching her face for any sign of what was wrong, but she kept her eyes trained on her mug, avoiding his gaze. Clear her head? Since when does she need to do that alone? He watched her carefully, noting how different she seemed—quieter, more subdued.

Usually, their mornings were filled with light-hearted banter, Y/N teasing him about his bedhead or him playfully tugging at her clothes as they tried to decide who got the shower first. Today, though, there was none of that. Just a few polite exchanges before Y/N quietly went back to whatever she was doing, leaving Daniel feeling more lost than ever.

Later, as they sat down for breakfast, Daniel noticed how Y/N barely spoke. She ate quietly, not her usual animated self who would chat non-stop about random topics or playfully steal food off his plate. When she finished, she simply got up, rinsed her plate, and headed to the living room without a word, leaving him alone at the table. This isn’t right. She’s never like this.

He followed her into the living room, where she had already settled on the couch with her laptop, focusing on some work. Normally, Sunday mornings were their time to cuddle up together and watch silly TV shows, often forgetting about the world outside. But today, Y/N was distant, absorbed in her work and not giving him the usual attention that he had come to cherish. Daniel sat down beside her, hoping she’d lean into him like she always did, but instead, she shifted slightly away, her focus still on the screen.

“Wanna watch something?” Daniel asked, trying to sound upbeat.

Y/N looked up briefly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Maybe later, I’ve got a lot to finish.”

Later? Daniel thought, the word stinging more than it should have. He leaned back into the couch, feeling the distance between them growing, an invisible barrier he didn’t know how to break.

As the day wore on, Daniel kept trying to bring her back, suggesting they go out for lunch or do something fun together, but each time, Y/N politely declined, claiming she was tired or had things to do. Every attempt he made to connect with her was met with that same polite, distant response, and it was driving him crazy.

This is not us. What happened? He replayed their last few days in his mind, searching for anything that could have caused this sudden change, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. It was like she had just pulled away overnight, and he had no idea why.

By the time evening rolled around, the tension between them was palpable. Daniel couldn’t take it anymore. They were usually inseparable, laughing and joking even after long days, but now it felt like they were miles apart, even sitting on the same couch.

As Y/N stood up to put away her laptop, Daniel finally spoke, his voice tight with the anxiety that had been building inside him all day. “Y/N, we have to talk.”

Y/N froze, her back to him, her hands trembling slightly as she placed the laptop on the table. She had been dreading this moment, knowing that Daniel would eventually confront her about her behavior. But how could she explain the hurt she felt, the betrayal that had been gnawing at her since she overheard those cruel words?

She turned slowly to face him, her heart pounding in her chest, knowing she couldn’t keep avoiding this conversation. The look on Daniel’s face—the worry, the confusion—made her want to cry, but she held it in, biting her lip to keep her emotions at bay.

Daniel could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Y/N stand there, her back still partially turned to him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he needed to understand what was going on.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice softer now, “what’s wrong? Please, talk to me. I feel like you’re a million miles away.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to hold herself together. She didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to let the emotions she had been bottling up spill over, but the concern in Daniel’s voice was too much. She turned around fully, her eyes locking with his, and in that moment, the dam broke.

“Daniel, I—I can’t keep pretending like everything’s okay,” she said, her voice trembling. “I heard them. I heard what your friends said about me on the yacht.”

Daniel’s stomach dropped as her words registered. “What? What did they say?”

“They… they called me exhausting,” Y/N choked out, tears welling up in her eyes. “They said I’m too much, that I never sit still. And you… you just laughed along, Daniel. You didn’t say anything.”

Daniel felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He remembered the conversation now, the way his friends had made those offhanded comments, but at the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t think she heard.

“Oh, Y/N,” he whispered, stepping closer to her, reaching out to hold her, but she took a step back, shaking her head as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“No, Daniel. You don’t understand. That hurt. So much,” she cried, her voice breaking. “I thought I was fitting in, I thought they liked me. But to hear them say that… And then to see you just… go along with it? It broke my heart.”

Daniel’s eyes filled with tears as he watched her break down, each of her words cutting deeper into him. He had never seen her like this, so vulnerable, so broken, and it shattered him to know he had a part in causing it.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t think… I should have said something. I should have defended you. But I didn’t think they were serious. I didn’t think it would hurt you like this.”

“That’s the problem, Daniel!” Y/N exclaimed, her voice rising with the pain she had been holding back. “You didn’t think. You didn’t think about how it would make me feel, how it would tear me apart to hear the people you care about think so little of me. And you just stood there, laughing with them, like it was okay.”

Daniel’s heart ached as he saw the tears streaming down her face, the hurt in her eyes so raw, so deep. “Y/N, you have to believe me, I love you just the way you are,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “You’re not too much for me. You’re everything. I love your energy, your spirit. It’s what drew me to you in the first place. I don’t want you to change. Not for them, not for anyone.”

“But you didn’t say that,” she whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by her sobs. “You didn’t say anything. And now I feel like… like I’m too much, even for you. I feel like I don’t belong, like I’m just a burden.”

“No, no,” Daniel shook his head frantically, desperate to make her understand. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You’re my everything. I should have stood up for you. I should have told them how amazing you are, how much you mean to me. I’m so sorry I let you down. Please, don’t think for a second that you’re too much for me.”

Y/N’s knees gave out, and she sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands as sobs wracked her body. “It just hurt so much, Daniel. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never felt so… unwanted.”

Daniel was on the floor beside her in an instant, pulling her into his arms despite her initial resistance. He held her tightly, his own tears falling freely now as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“You are wanted, Y/N,” he whispered fiercely, his voice thick with emotion. “You are loved. I love you. I need you. I’m so sorry I made you feel this way. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you from that. I never wanted to make you feel unwanted or unloved. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t stand the thought of you doubting that.”

Y/N clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt as she cried out all the pain and hurt she had been holding inside. Daniel rocked her gently, whispering apologies and reassurances, his heart breaking with every sob that escaped her lips.

“I’m here, love,” he whispered, kissing her hair, her forehead, anywhere he could reach. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll never let you feel like this again.”

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, tangled together on the floor, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it. The weight of the day’s hurtful words slowly lifted as Daniel poured his heart out to her, begging for her forgiveness, for a chance to make things right.

And in that moment, Y/N knew that despite the pain, despite the heartbreak, Daniel’s love was real. She could feel it in the way he held her, in the way he whispered her name like it was the most precious thing in the world. But the hurt was still there, lingering beneath the surface, a reminder that words—whether spoken or left unsaid—had the power to break even the strongest of hearts.

time skip

After what felt like hours of clinging to each other on the floor, Daniel and Y/N finally moved to the couch. The exhaustion from the emotional storm that had passed left them both drained, but neither could bear to be apart. Y/N nestled into Daniel's side, her head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped securely around her. The room was quiet now, the only sound being their slow, steady breathing as they tried to find some semblance of peace in each other’s embrace.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, but her mind was still racing. The warmth of Daniel’s body against hers was comforting, but the memories of the hurtful words she had heard kept playing in her mind. Yet, she could also feel the sincerity in Daniel’s touch, the way his hands never stopped moving, as if he were afraid to let her go. She could tell he was struggling too, and that realization tugged at her heart.

As they lay there, the silence between them filled with unspoken apologies and lingering pain, Y/N suddenly felt something wet against her temple. She shifted slightly, tilting her head up to see Daniel’s face, and her heart clenched at the sight of tears streaming down his cheeks. His usually bright eyes were glassy, the usual spark in them dimmed by guilt and sorrow.

“Danny?” she whispered, concern flooding her voice.

Daniel didn’t respond right away, his jaw clenched as he tried to keep his emotions in check, but the tears kept coming, no matter how hard he tried to stop them. His grip on her tightened as if holding her close would somehow undo the pain he had caused.

Without thinking, Y/N climbed onto his lap, straddling him so she could face him fully. She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears that continued to fall. The sight of him like this—so broken, so vulnerable—made her chest ache. She had never seen him cry like this before, and it tore at her heartstrings in a way she couldn’t describe.

“Danny, please,” she murmured, her voice soft and pleading. “Don’t cry.”

But Daniel shook his head, his tears blurring his vision as he looked at her. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he choked out, his voice thick with anguish. “I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I hurt you like that. I should’ve stopped them. I should’ve told them to shut up. You didn’t deserve any of that, and I just… I failed you.”

“Danny…” Y/N’s voice broke as she tried to comfort him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as they both tried to steady themselves.

“I love you so much,” Daniel continued, his voice cracking with each word. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I hate myself for making you feel anything less than that. You’re perfect just the way you are, Y/N. I don’t want you to change, not ever. I’m so sorry I let you down. Please, please forgive me.”

Y/N felt tears welling up in her own eyes again, her heart breaking all over at the sheer desperation in his voice. She could see how much this was tearing him apart, how much he regretted what had happened, and it made her realize that he was hurting just as much as she was.

“Danny,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she gently kissed his forehead, then his cheeks, tasting the salt of his tears on her lips. “I know you’re sorry. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I forgive you, okay? I forgive you.”

Daniel let out a shaky breath, his hands coming up to cradle her face as if he were afraid she might slip away. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice filled with raw emotion. “I don’t deserve how understanding you are, how forgiving. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” Y/N replied, her voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill over. “You’re everything to me, Danny. I’m not perfect, and neither are you, but we’re perfect for each other. And that’s all that matters. We’ll get through this, okay? Together.”

Daniel nodded, his lips trembling as he pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “I’ll do anything to make this right. I just need you to know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You’re my whole world, Y/N.”

Y/N tightened her hold on him, her fingers threading through his hair as she held him close. “I love you too, Danny,” she whispered back, her voice thick with emotion. “And I’m here too. We’ll be okay. We will.”

For a long moment, they just held each other, their tears mingling as they clung to the comfort of being together, of knowing that despite everything, their love was strong enough to weather the storm. Slowly, the tension between them began to ease, replaced by the quiet reassurance that they had each other, and that was enough.

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Daniel pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, his tears finally beginning to subside. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Thank you for forgiving me. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt how much you mean to me.”

Y/N nodded, her own tears finally slowing as she felt the sincerity in his words. “Just don’t ever shut me out again,” she whispered. “We’re in this together, Danny. Always.”

“Always,” Daniel echoed, his voice filled with a promise as he kissed her gently, sealing the words between them.

[one-sunny]

HI I SAW U OPENED UR REQUESTS AND I LOVE YOUR WRITING SMMM <333

I’ve always thought Ace would be the type to yearn and pine but not make a move bc he thinks he doesn’t deserve love. That with an oblivious/awkward/reciprocating reader would be the perfect mashup of tropes 🤭

Undeserving

Portgas D. Ace x reader

Summary: Yearning, pining, and feeling undeserving. These were all far too familiar for Portgas D Ace, when all he wanted was the love just within his reach. sad Ace behaviors and desc. of anxiety.

thank you so much!!! and you’re absolutely right this is the perfect trope mashup for Ace i’m obsessed

Fire Fist Ace was known as a feared presence by many. A combination of his power, haki, and the respect he earned led to him being a commander to some. He was brother and son of the White Beard pirates.

But above all else, he was just a man.

The first time this reality came crashing down was during one of the many celebrations on the Moby Dick. There was a celebration for the first divisions successful mission, music boomed, booze flowed, and a grand feast was being devoured by hungry pirates.

Among this all, you sat by Ace’s side with a grin. At some point, during the height of conversation and an even heftier bridge, you turned to say something to him. Not wanting to fight the noise, you had grabbed his arm to pull him to you so you could speak in his ear. Ace felt himself short circuit in that moment and he never truly recovered since then.

Every moment, every touch, every time he met your eyes it sent his heart fluttering in his chest. He had allowed himself a brief time to feel. To let the strong emotion wash over him. To give himself the illusion that maybe, just maybe, he could give in to his feelings.

But the one thing Ace’s unconscious mind liked to remind him, he is the son of a monster. A bloodline to squash. The one person most undeserving of such feelings. Sure, he had Pops and the crew, but he couldn’t let himself continue thinking about having you.

Despite how well Ace believed himself to hide it, it was very well known among the commanders just where you stood in his heart. They saw the longing stares, the way Ace would smile wistfully at the sound of your laughter, how easily he would crack under your gaze. You always seemed to be within his line of sight during battles and he always ensured you had adequate medical care whenever you were injured. And, anytime you were called to a mission, Ace was on edge until your safe return.

The current time was a perfect example of this. Ace paces the deck with a deep frown, eyes tracking the sun, annoyance building inside of him as the day goes on without your return. He lets out a deep sigh as he slumps back against the railings.

“Worrying not gonna make them come back faster, you know?” Marco calls to him from the lower deck. Ace whips around, mouth gaping for a moment, before he nervously scratches the back of his neck.

“What? I’m not-“

“Don’t start, Ace.” Thatch chuckles a deep and hearty laugh. “You can’t fool any of us.”

“Except for Y/N, they’re pretty oblivious it seems.”Marco shakes his head. Ace begins to ramble out an excuse, that he’s got a lot on his mind, and how he had a chore on the upper deck. None of it had any meaning. Marco and Thatch share a look and mischief sparks in their eyes. “Hey, is that their boat?”

Ace’s hat nearly flies off of his head at the speed in which he whips around and a chorus of laughter fills the air. “Funny.” He mutters, tipping the brim of his hat lower to hide his flushed face from the other commanders. Ace turns to leave the deck for a moment of quiet, when Thatch calls him back.

“Ace, there they are.” Thatch calls out.

“Yeah, you guys already got me. Very funny-“

“No, you idiot, they’re actually here now.”

Despite all of the teasing, Ace turns, and energy fills his very being at the sight of your small boat in the distance. A bright smile lights up his face and he launches himself down to the lower deck. He lands before his crew mates, effectively ignoring their teasing grins, and calls the crew to aid in your mission return.

Ace ensures he is the first to greet you as you board the Moby Dick, offering his hand out to you in your final steps, and taking the backpack slung over your shoulder. “‘Bout time you got back.” He offers a sweet smile and you are quick to return it.

“I can only sail so fast, ya know.” You chuckle at him. “Not all of us have fancy devil fruit powers we can power a boat with.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” He tips his head, taking you in fully and attempting to detect any possible injuries. “Think I just missed having you around.” Your brows shoot up in shock at his blunt words and Ace instantly scrambles. “Uh, because ya know, no one else helps out with my pranks like you. Got, ya know, got boring around here.” Ace clears his throat and adjusts the hat on his head.

“Right.” You nod slowly, feeling a heat settling inside of you.

“Right.” He purses his lips. “You, uh, you should probably debrief with Pops. I’m sure there’s plenty to talk about.” You nod in agreement, moving to head that way, before you stop in your tracks. You turn back around and his breath catches in his throat.

“My bag.” You point to it at the dumbfounded look.

“Oh, uh, I can drop it by your room if you want?” He offers with a smile. As you look back at him, he notes the tired glaze in your eyes and the way your shoulders droop.

A smile pulls to your lips, “Yeah, that’d be great actually. Thanks, Ace.”

As you wander off, Ace turns to watch you go, and his eyes fall on the two commanders that were watching the interaction closely. He bristles when he meets their eyes and quickly runs off to drop off your bag.

And the next hour is grueling and Ace could no longer deny to himself that he was waiting for you. So he could see you and finally talk to you.

When he hears you call out his name, his heart rate leaps. “What are you doin’ out here?” You offer him a sweet smile and he finds himself easily mirroring the expression.

“Uh, nothing, just,” He shrugs in an attempt to seem nonchalant. “Waiting around.” Ace crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall, calm and causal.

“For me?” There’s a sickeningly hopeful tone to your voice.

“Uh,” Ace balks.

And that seemed to strike something in you, “Just, uh, just messing with you, Ace.” There’s a tension that seems to rise in the air and Ace feels as if his throat is thick as he swallows hard. He hated this. The awkwardness. The uncomfortable feelings trying, and failing, to be pushed to the side so you can both be normal again. “Do you know if dinners ready yet?” You prompt, rocking on your heels. “I’m starving.”

“Oh, i’m not sure actually.” Ace inwardly cringes at himself. “Let’s go check.”

When you enter the kitchen, you are called to the large group of crew members for the tales of your travels over dinner. Ace watches you go for a long moment with a fluttering in his stomach. It grew in motion until the fluttering was violent, knocking into his rib cage and gripping at his throat. To see you blending with the crew with that smile on your face- a gathering of people that he knew deep down that he didn’t even deserve.

It made his body run cold despite the living inferno that he was.

He offers a final, lingering stare as your hands move animatedly along with your story, before he disappears from the room. He was almost certain that you wouldn’t even notice. That no one would notice. The anxiety grips his throat with a power that he was more used to than he would like to admit.

The rest of the day is a blur as he makes himself scarce to the crew. All the way until the sun has set and the sea turns into a black void.

And he sits in that void instead of sleeping like he should be. He was certain that he would pass out in the middle of breakfast tomorrow but who was he to care. Many called him narcoleptic and Marco has tried to fuss over him many times regarding this, but Fire Fist was well aware that it was the insomnia that struck in the late hours of the night. He needed to take any chance he had for sleep during the day because the moon came with heavy taunts.

Ace can hear the light footsteps moving across the deck and he internally kicks himself for so easily recognizing them as your footsteps. Then, you’re dropping down to sit beside of him and propping your elbows against the railing. He spares a glance to see a tired daze about your eyes.

You meet his eye with a tired pout, “Are we okay?”

He bristles at your words, muscles tense, before he clears his throat. “‘Course we are.” His voice is a pitch higher than what he intended to. And there was no way you were missing that, eyes narrowing at him. “I don’t know, I’m just off today.”

Your finger absently runs along the railing with shoulders dropped. “Did I- Did I do something?” Your voice is low and distant. Ace feels his heart squeeze at this.

“You didn’t do a thing, okay?”

“Then,” You groan and drop your head back. “Will you talk to me? I know i’ve been gone for a little while but I feel like the two of us could always talk to each other before and-“ You wave a hand and purse your lips. “Things were just ugh earlier!”

“Ugh?” He can’t help but smile at this.

“You heard me.” You bump his shoulder but continue to avoid his eye.

Ace lets out a low sigh, tapping his fingers repeatedly, before casting his eyes out to the dark sea. Silence lingers for a long moment as he attempts to gather his thoughts into something rational. “Do you ever, just, feel like you’re cursed?” He can’t bring himself to meet your eye or even glance in your direction. “Like everything you want is right within your reach, but it’s somehow still out of grasp?” You hum in thought but allow Ace to continue rambling on instead of answering. “There’s so much more that I want, but it’s like I don’t deserve any of it.” He huffs. “At all.”

“What kind of things do you feel you don’t deserve?” Your voice is light and as delicate as the situation.

“Everything.” The answer is simple and straight to the point. “Pops.” His eyebrows furrow at the thought of his father figure. Because his real, biological father, was the root of many of his issues. He didn’t deserve Whitebeard and the man that he is. “The crew.” His brother’s in arms that would die for him, just as he would for them. “My brother.” His frown deepens at the idea of Luffy. Of the unconditional love that he provided while growing up. “You.” His words were barely above a whisper. Because above all, he felt like he was the most undeserving of your presence in his life.

You’re quiet for a long moment and Ace almost regrets his words. Then you finally speak up, “You don’t even realize how loved you are, do you?” There’s a sadness about your voice.

Ace can’t even form the words for a reply, a sound breaking in the back of his throat.

“I don’t even know how much my words mean to you, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of what he has.” You shake your head as if annoyed with the thought. “You’re so, so good, Ace.” A huff. “So many people would put their lives on the line for you because you are worthy of love.”

“I don’t feel,” He swallows the thick lump in his throat. “Like I deserve love.”

“But you do.” You try to stress to him, leaning in a little bit closer and attempting to meet his eye. Ace pointedly stares into the void of the sea instead. You sigh lowly, “Look at me.” You urge to him, desperate to have him meet your eye for your next words. “Ace, please.”

His eyes flutter shut for a moment and he takes a deep breath, but ultimately meets your gaze.

You take a deep breath, “Ace, I love you.”

For a moment, he doesn’t react. His expression doesn’t change and instead he just looks back at you. You almost second guess if he even heard you until he shakes his head. “Don’t,” His head snaps back to look at the dark sea. “Don’t do that.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Please don’t.”

“But I- I- I do.” You stutter out, stamping down the nervous energy trying to creep up on you. Because he needed to hear this. To know what he means to you. “Not like I love the rest of them, either. The crew. You’re,” You gulp. “You’re different.”

“What?” His words edge on being harsh.

Your entire body tenses at the sound, but you push forwards despite this. “I’m in love with you.”

Ace drops his head into his hands, pressing his palms against his cheekbones and attempting to piece together the swirling thoughts in his mind. He had to be dreaming. Had to be witnessing a manifestation of his own delusions right before his eyes. The void of the sea playing tricks on him.

But your hand places on his bicep and pulls him back to the deck he was sitting on. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have just dropped that on you when you’re feeling like this but-“

“You can’t love me.” He blurts out. “You’re too…” He waves a hand as he tries and fails to find the right words. You watch as the gears visibly turn in his mind, unsure if you were even breathing for a moment. “Too good.”

“Too good.” You chuckle nervously.

“You,” He begins, leaning in a little bit closer so your faces were inches apart. “You’re exactly the person I don’t deserve.” His breath is almost burning hot on your face. “You can’t love me because I would ruin you.”

“I’m stronger than you think.”

“But i’m not.” The words rush out of him before he can even process them.

You hold his gaze, unwavering. “Then it sounds like we need each other, huh?” You raise a hesitant hand, gauging his reaction, before ever so gently cupping his cheek. His skin is hot and you’re almost certain you catch a flicker of light start and quickly extinguish on his shoulder. “Because I know that I need you.” You lean in to rest your forehead against his.

Ace swallows back the tears that want to fall and stamps down the conflicting anger that is trying to bubble up inside of him. Instead, he allows himself to feel. To embrace you and pull you even closer to him. Your words heavily combatted the brutal thoughts he has held for years, but you were one heck of a fighter.

“I need you.” Ace chokes out, strong arms locked around your body. “I- I- uh.” He tries to force the words out but they keep getting stuck in his throat. You pull back only slightly to look him in the eyes, the absolute adoration and vulnerability he exudes in that simple look, and suddenly you catch onto something that has been manifesting for years.

“I love you too, Ace.” You mumble.

And when words fail, actions prevail. Ace closes the small gap between you in a searing kiss, allowing the emotions to pour out in droves to relay what he couldn’t bring himself to say. He feels you smile against his lips and that only makes him cling to you more desperately.

Ace reluctantly pulls back when his lungs start to burn, panting, but happy.

[nocturn-warrior]

Ne t'enfuis pas

Adrian Ţepeş x reader

Summary: You are his first love reincarnated and after 300 years, you finally meet again.

Rating: fluff, hurt, comfort

Warnings: mentions of death, grief, Nocturn season 2 spoilers!!!

Nmed after Kate Bush's Ne T'enfuis Pas. This is heavily inspired in Bram Stoker's Dracula by Coppola and mayyybe Nosferatu by Eggers <3 It's been so long since i've written, i am honestly rusty. Sorry for taking so long with this one.

The water in the pond behind the chateau reflects the light of the crescent pale moonlight above your head. It is the first time in weeks since you could go outside after the sunset without worrying about getting your neck attacked by a servant of the Bloody Countess or a night creature. Small tadpoles swim around, feeding on bugs that have the misfortune of falling in the pond and you watch them idly and with a childlike curiosity. You didn’t want to ruminate at that moment, you wanted to think that everything was going to be fine. 

Still, your unquiet mind couldn’t rest. The scene of the tadpole rapidly consuming the bug reminds you of your own thoughts consuming you. The dreams you’ve had before his arrival; a dark castle with infinite stairs, forests that you’ve never explored, and flashes of scenes flooding your mind every time he is near that feel so much more real than a mere dejavú. But how could you ever put this into words?

Smooth steps are heard padding against the grass and you softly gasp when you see the tall, pale man coming to the spot you are sitting on. His amber eyes glow like the ones of a cat in a dark night as he walks in the shadow announcing his not fully human nature. 

“They are beheading the last one of the day. Won’t you like to see the show?”

Alucard asks with sarcasm, sitting on the opposite side of the pond in a pompous swish. The city's in ruins, but the people are executioning the aristocrats who stood in the side of the vampires during the attack. You don’t answer his question. In fact, the two of you stay in silence for a while, but now and then you peek through the fountain to see if he is still in there and he is perfectly immobile like a beautiful statue in the garden, except for his flouncy hair tousled by the soft breeze. In one of those moments of curiosity, your gazes meet and it feels intense as a lightning hitting your body, Alucard could see your hair standing on end.

“Although I think they should pay for what they did, I don't see the point of gathering in the town to see bloodshed. I’ve seen enough of this in the last few days.”

You answer in an awkward way and twirl your finger around the water, making the tadpoles hide behind a rock to dismiss the feeling that goes beyond embarrassment. Alucard narrows his eyes, cautiously watching your expression, wondering if approaching you now was the right choice. But how long could he keep this to himself? If there is something Alucard learned during these wandering 300 years is that human life is feeble as a crystal, that he’ll see his pals one by one perish to the fog of time. Leaving it be, ignoring the signals would spare him from the very known feeling of grief. Still, there you are. With another appearance, voice and name, yet eyes are the windows of the soul, they say, and Alucard lived enough to know that this might be true. And since yours met during the Eclipse, he knew that calling coming from overseas was not only his duty of destroying Sekhmet’s mummy. He was drawn to your presence like a boat to a lighthouse.

“May i?”

He asks before sitting on the same side as you on the pond, so pale that he seems to emanate his own light and reflect in the pond along with the moon. You nod and he graciously settles himself some palms away not wanting to be invasive, minutely investigating the possibilities and to what paths would they guide him. Your mind is racing with thoughts, so many it could burst. A feeling of urgency that takes you completely and is shared with the man by your side. Gathering forces from an ancient feeling asleep for so too long, you finally speak:

“You have found me… how?”

He hums looking into the pond before answering your question that is so easy to answer yet difficult to put into words when he measures the consequences.

“I felt you calling me.”

You shortly breathe, reminding the nights where that feeling of emptiness would set in as if there was something missing and you would pray for a light, something that could give you a clue of what was the other part of the whole. The dreams that filled your sleep in the following nights left you even more puzzled, but when Alucard arrived, everything was starting to be put in place, for more unbelievable that sounded. 

Before you died, you made Alucard promise that he would find someone else. That he wouldn't have his eternity tied to your memory, that he would find other lovers to fulfill his heart and to give him the love he deserved. Your shaking cold hand held his as you collapsed to smallpox in your deathbed and finally the eyes of your mortal body closed forever. He did as promised. Tens of women and men crossed his path across those thirty decades, but no one of them were you. The same emptiness your oblivious, reborn self would experience now, the dhampir would drag along the mists of years; for you, what was an unknown spectrum, for him it was a very palpable feeling that seemed to almost materialize itself.

Your eyes fill up with tears, a rush of emotions suddenly rises as Alucard watches you break down, still hesitant. His slender hand reaches out to touch your shoulder and you shudder; like the sun coming out from the clouds, a myriad of memories start to bloom. Alucard’s eyes are wide open in shock, harm of fear is the last thing he wants to inflict on you. But how could he have been causing it when all you could see in front of your eyes was him and your life together? Piece by piece like a broken porcelain, you see snippets of the past. 

You suddenly wrap your arms around his shoulders, a hug so unpredictable and strong that Alucard had to hold onto the bricks of the pond otherwise you would fall directly into it. Once steady, He slowly retributes the hug, face resting on the crook of your neck as you sob tears of unbelievable happiness into his white hair. A small salty droplet roams his cheek too and when he realizes the emotional boy he used to be was here again. Slowly, you pull off from the embrace, drying your tears with the sleeves of your dress and say while cupping his angelical face in your hands, strands of white hair sticking onto his skin. You smile and say before pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips:

“And you came to me… from the sky like an angel.”

[rcvcgers]

Duty's Cruel Embrace, 3

Chapter Three: Past and Present

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18+ MINORS DNI

pairing ; prince!xavier x princess!reader

synopsis ; you and xavier journey to the port of tartus where your first betrothed awaits you.

word count ; 14.6k words

author's note ; hi everyone! i am so sorry about the delay in updates! i am trying my best to work on these chapters asap!! i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it!

trigger warning ; mentions of death, alcohol use, weapons, xav and reader make out and he gets just a little handsy, light sexism, talks of political marriage, let me know if i missed anything!

my ladies in waiting ♛ °˖✧ @velaenam , @schwnapps , @massivenutkid , @celestialforce , @exitingmusic , @zeskyzed , @eve-ishu , @underfcvcked , @duffyinwonderland , @hiqhkey , @dooopiee , @awkward-stierle , @justpassingdontworry , @queenkymmie , @miffysoo , @kazbrkker , @applepi405 , @flamedancer13 , @prplbunny , @loreleis-world , @animecrazy76 , @emo4r , @crazygirl3001 , @creator-freak , @spacenott , @luckypup0506 , @wltneko9006 , @wonys-won , @sh4do3 , @witchbybirth

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please go check out @velaenam 's story domina of the east! there are light spoilers for her story in this chapter <3

The crown prince of Philos remained close to you after you left the king’s tent. He remained far away, always behind you, never slipping into your line of sight. He had to convince himself that you were not looking for him, that you were on your own mission in life, one that does not revolve around him. He detests the idea of you being loyal to another cause, one that does not belong to him.

You are to be his wife, are you not? You will be the woman he shares the throne with, the woman who will bear his children and provide heirs for his future and legacy. He should be allowed to claim you as his own. As his one and only.

You were now away from your kingdom, a day’s ride to be exact, and soon the two of you will be on a boat heading across the Mediterranean Sea back to his kingdom of Philos. He knows that in time, you will grow to love Philos as much as he does. All he can sit and wish is that the two of you fall into something like love, a way for you to live in harmony for the rest of your lives.

Will it be love? Or will it simply be a partnership that you two barely tolerate?

He knows, though, that you will not be won in war. Your game of cat and mouse, the constant push and pull, the game that has brought him so much more excitement than he could have ever imagined. It is the reason why he is drawn to you. It is the reason why Xavier hasn’t been able to keep you away from him while on your journey to the port of Tartus.

He watches you from afar. Just like how he keeps his distance from you, you keep your distance from the other men at camp, the disgusting soldiers who laugh and tell the tales from their skirmishes and battles in Nabira. He sees the look of disgust on your face. Your expression slightly twists into something fatal, devastating, mourning the loss of the soldiers from your kingdom. You even wince at a few of their motions, the way they describe slicing the necks of the men that they have encountered in the battlefield.

Whenever you pass by, too, the soldiers either remain silent and bow their heads with respect, or they throw taunts your way, calling you pet names as if you now belong to them.

But you belong to him. Xavier knows it…even you know it.

Xavier remains by your tent throughout the night. He had his squire bring him one of the wooden chairs from his father’s tent and he placed it beside the entrance to your tent. Men walked by, their drunken laughs being silenced from Xavier’s scowl. The tip of his blade remained beneath the earth, his hand remaining on the hilt. Soldiers partied in the distance while Xavier listened to the rustling of the thin blanket he provided for you — the one he brought from his bed chambers in Philos — and waited for the night to come to an end.

The bright blue moon was his only light in the night as the majority of torches were snuffed out. He looks up at the Heavenly body, focusing on the imperfections that shine brightly on its surface. Xavier wonders if you like the moon as much as he does. He loves watching the Heavenly bodies in the night sky, looking upon them as they twinkle from the depths of the darkness.

The prince wonders what lies beyond the sky. Are there other worlds like his own? Are the men on that distant and far planet forced into unnecessary wars that their fathers wish to wage? Do the men there get to freely choose their wives or are they forced to marry vipers in disguise from a kingdom across the known world?

A sigh leaves his lips. Xavier looks away from the sky and shakes his head, turning his attention towards the ground. There are shadows from the scattered patches as grass of the campsite. There is a mixture of sand and dirt and grass, the combination of two different kinds of ecosystems merging together.

A sense of longing and worry overwhelms his mind. Xavier closes his eyes and rolls his head back, cracking his tensed up joints and bones as a quiet groan escapes his lips. He knows that his journey and time in Nabira is coming to a close. He will finally be back in Philos, a place he knows like the back of his hand. He has dreamed of his kingdom almost every single night since he has reached the desert, sailing away from the green scenery into the abyss of the desert.

Back in Philos, Xavier remembers the endless rolling hills of green grass, the steady streams and rivers that run through his kingdom. He remembers each and every crevice and rock of the mountainside where the Philos castle sits. He remembers the dark gray stone bride that attaches the base of the mountain to the rest of the village. Xavier misses the sound of the roaring river that runs beneath the bridge, the perpetually cold water spraying over the edges when the winds are strong.

Nabira is a completely different environment than what he is used to. Getting used to the desert was harder than he imagined, his right hand man back in Philos, Jeremiah, telling him what he should prepare for. He thought that the hot temperature was comparable to the hottest summer day in Philos but after experiencing the coolest day in Nabira, he knows that he is not meant for this type of climate. He supposes that he misses the green scenery. He is tired of the constant tans and browns, the only green coming from fabrics and the scattered patches of shrubbery that lay somewhat near oases.

He thought that he would find his inevitable demise in Nabira because who can truly survive a war as destructive and brutal as his father’s campaign for Nabira. Who can survive in the endless stretches of desert with little to no water to live off of, his body aching and his skin turning rough and red under the blazing sun. Even the metal of his armor has made him feel so suffocated while traveling through the sand dunes. Perhaps his inevitable demise did not come in the form of death but rather in the form of a beautiful woman behind a black and gold veil, the woman who has infiltrated his every waking and unconscious thought ever since he met her.

You…you have proven to be an intoxicating potion that has been slipped into his drink, a spell that is your name that has taken control over his mind.

Xavier opens his eyes to the sun already above the horizon. His light blue blanket is draped over his body, the hand on his sword covered. A quiet groan vibrates his throat. He slowly sits up, back tense. Xavier’s blue eyes scan the immediate area, the morning sun warm against his skin. You slowly approach from afar, a silver cup in hand along with a plate with bread, nuts, and dried meat. Xavier hides the small smile that begins to form on his face, covering it up by clearing his throat and sitting up in his chair.

“I can ride the horse for us today,” you say to him, skipping the greeting. It amuses Xavier. “Here,” you mutter under your breath, “eat. Drink. Your father wishes for us to embark from this place as soon as possible. He thinks we can reach Tartus by sunset if we move fast enough.”

Xavier takes the plate and chalice from you, your fingers grazing against each other. You ignore the way the corner of his lips perk up, the way his cloth shirt exposes the top part of his chest. You clear your throat and tear your gaze away, looking at the soldiers who tear down the campsite. They scurry around as their king watches. The silver crown on his head reflects sharp flashes of light whenever he turns, the man’s squire and his noble attendant by his side as he quietly speaks his demands.

“When did you wake, princess?” Xavier asks.

You struggle to respond. Your gaze meets his and all of the words slip out of your mind. You have memorized and learned Xavier’s mother tongue when the Philos troops were first seen on the outskirts of Nabira’s borders. Countless books and endless nights studying their words, the way they speak. The teachers in Nabira helped you become fluent but sometimes the words slipped free from your mind, leaving you with a mouth and brain filled with an empty void.

Xavier tilts his head at you, perking up an eyebrow. He slowly chews the hardened bread, narrowing his blue eyes at you. He slowly stands. The light blue blanket slips off of his body, hanging over the top of his sword. Xavier places the chalice and plate down, turning his attention back to you.

“Take your time,” he whispers, “or, you can say it in thy own tongue.”

“I woke at dawn. The dogs’ barks woke me,” you speak with no hesitation.

Xavier picks up on your words. His year in Nabria allowed him to learn some of your language, not all of it because he has always been stubborn and, quite frankly, did not think that he would get a Nabiran wife out of the crusade. He watches you closely as you gesture to the pack of nearby dogs, their snouts red from blood from that morning’s hunt.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you continue, finally turning back to wake him. Xavier’s. Your expression softens at the sight of his tousled hair, the way the silver strands poke out in every direction. You wave him down, which he immediately obeys, and you gently flatten the hair back against his head. “You looked so peaceful.”

“Peaceful,” Xavier quietly repeats the word in your tongue. You freeze and pull away from him, eyes slightly widened. Does he know your language? Has he learned during his time in Nabira just like you have with his? “What does that mean?”

“Peaceful,” you state after a moment’s hesitation, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Peaceful…” he whispers with a slight nod. “I will ride for us today. Be ready soon. A solider will handle your tent for you.”

“Xavier,” you watch as he drapes the light blue blanket around your shoulders. With one hand, he picks up the plate and chalice, balancing the silver cup on the plate, his sword now resting in his free hand. He steps around you. You watch him as he leaves, disappearing into the chaos of the Philos camp.

You sigh. You hang your head low as you stare at the ground. The leather bag your father gave you sits beside his wooden chair. The chair looks so uncomfortable…why would he spend the night like that? Did he truly wish for you to see this act of service as one that shows you can trust him? Or is it a false sense of security that he will use against you in the near future?

Confusion infiltrates your mind. You allow yourself to gather your belongings, plucking the golden bow from the inside of your tent. It sits around your bodice, the golden point sticking up into the sky, the quiver of arrows attached around your hips. The black crow feathers absorb the heat of the day. You feel them between the pads of your fingers, fiddling with them. They help keep you company as you walk through the camp, looking around for the man you are forced to be allies with.

Whether you like it or not, you know that Prince Xavier is your only saving grace on the journey to Philos. Even then, once you reach his kingdom, he is still your only ally in the political world that is much different from Nabira.

You cannot help but question if Xavier will be there by your side like he vowed to do. You do not know if he will remain loyal to you and the aid you require. Your mind wanders across the many possibilities that you will encounter in the new world.

Does Xavier have a mistress? Is there another woman in his life that you will have to learn to tolerate during your political and arranged marriage? You do not know what waits for you in the near future. It feels as if you are willingly walking into a lion’s den.

You can try your best to hide behind the furs they will gift to you. You can try to hide behind the crown of thorns that they will place onto your head. At the end of the day, though, it is you and you alone that is in charge of your life. You will have to fight for your spot in the Philos court, to fight to show the nobles that you earned your position as the future Queen of their kingdom. They will try to bring you down but you must persevere. 

“Princess,” Xavier’s voice sounds from behind. You do not turn, simply continuing to stare at the ancient ruins from your ancestor’s empire.

After it fell hundreds of years ago, the Roman Empire lost its influence. Their colonies and cities fought back against Roman control all while the title of emperor was being fought about in the heart of Rome. You read about it in the books your father gifted to you as a child. Your brother did not particularly enjoy reading about the fall of an empire, but you enjoyed seeing how Emperor Caleb’s laws and provisions remained in place when it came to Nabira. He ruled far before the empire fell. His descendants, your ancestors, kept his vow alive. It is admirable, really.

There are broken statues and pillars in the distance. Another outpost that was once under Roman control. Now Mother Nature runs it with vines reclaiming the white and cracked stone. Xavier’s armor and chainmail sounds from behind you. His white horse whinnies. The scraping of metal rubbing against itself used to irk you, send chills down your spine, but now it is a welcoming sound of the man you will call your husband.

“Is thou ready?” he asks.

“How long do you think that has been there for?” you ask and gesture to the crumbling pillars. Xavier takes his place at your side, his eyes fixed on the landmark. His horse remains tethered to its reins. 

“I do not know,” he quietly responds. “Centuries, probably.”

“Centuries,” you muse with a chuckle. Xavier looks down at you, confusion written across his face. “Is there a centuries old outpost in Philos?”

Xavier remains quiet. He studies the side of your face, taking in the slenderness of your cheeks, the hollowness behind your eyes. You’re tired, yes, and he can tell that you have not been able to stop thinking since you woke up that morning. He clears his throat and tugs on the leather reins.

The white horse trots around and settles in the space in front of you. Your eyes flicker to Xavier and he avoids your gaze, simply sliding the reins into your hands. He grabs your waist and you place your foot into the stirrup. In one motion, Xavier helps you onto the horse, your leg kicking over the horse. You remove your foot and scoot forward. Xavier takes your bag and attaches it to the side of the horse, placing it beside his. You quickly reach inside and pluck out the diary your father gifted you, placing it in the small space in front of you and the pommel of the saddle.

Xavier quickly mounts the horse and takes his place behind you, his armored hands rest on your thighs for the briefest of moments. You lean back into him, already accustomed to his presence behind you. He leans in, his lips close to your ear. His breath is hot against your skin. It sends chills down your spine.

“You’ve been thinking,” he murmurs. He takes back the reins from you and gently kicks the horse’s side. It lets out a huff and turns on its hooves, moving back towards the camp. “Thinking of the past and history…tell me what is on your mind, princess.”

You look straight ahead. The camp has been broken down while you were lost in your thoughts. The soldiers have resume their marching positions, already beginning the journey to the Tartus port. You assume that Xavier’s father is at the helm, guiding his men through the last of the desert. The two of you assume a position towards the back, the soldiers and guards a part of Xavier’s future Kingsguard taking their place behind you.

“Shall I take your silence as your answer?” he quietly hums.

You roll your eyes and angle your face to look behind you. His eyes meet yours, a hint of amusement in his blue irises. It irritates you to see just how much fun he is having with this. All of the positive feelings you felt towards him begin to slowly dissipate, his sudden cockiness grating your nerves.

“I think of the future,” you finally respond, turning your head back towards the front. Your drop your gaze to the diary in your hands, the horse’s trot just stable enough for you to read.

“I thought you were lost in the past,” Xavier chuckles. You suck in a breath, shoulders tensing. “Now thy worries over the future?”

“Yes, your Highness, ’tis what I said,” your voice is sharp.

You open the diary with a huff, frowning at the tan pages. You flip through the entires, knowing that your ancestor’s words are completely foreign to the man who sits behind you. You stop at one entry whose words catch your attention. You see the old Emperor’s name, Caleb, and stop flicking through the pages.

“Do you wish to be alone?” Xavier quietly asks. He slightly leans forward and stares at the pages. The script is a mystery to him. He may be able to comprehend a few spoken words, but to read it? It is an entirely different story. Your silence is answer enough for him to nod to himself, tearing his gaze away from the diary and to focus on the environment around you.

You silently struggle with your feelings for the crown prince. He has been nothing but kind to you — besides your confrontation when your fathers’ decided on a marriage between the two of you — and he has been patient with your blunt questions. He even sat in front of your tent to make for sure that you were safe. His kind gestures make your heart flutter but your mind combats every single instinct that kicks in.

You do not know if you can trust him. You do not know if he is someone worth your love and attention or if he will have it in himself to return the positive afflictions. Will it even be possible for your heart to come to love a man like him? You know that you can tolerate him, that you will find a rhythm that the two of you can fall into if love does not blossom or come into fruition. There is just that hint of hesitation, though, the single insecure thought that lingers in your mind.

You are a woman. He is a man. He is able to get away with so much more than you ever will. He will be allowed to keep mistresses if he so desires and you will remain alone in your separate bedchambers with nothing but a book and the candlelight to keep you company. He is allowed to lose control, to show his anger while you must remain quiet and obedient, subservient to him and him alone.

Unfortunately, you live in a world dominated by men. For your entire life, you were surrounded by powerful men — even your brother as a boy employed more power than you — who could control the outcome of the Nabiran kingdom with a snap of their fingers. Oftentimes, your father’s male advisors would shut you out of political meetings. Whenever the Lemurians, or other diplomatic kingdoms, came to visit, you were told to entertain the women and girls who were brought along while the men drank wine from behind closed doors.

Always forced to watch, never allowed to participate.

The day has been long and hard. You sat in silence, only speaking in short whenever Xavier asks you a question or if you need anything. The sun begins to make its descent back towards the horizon and you can’t help but feel relieved. With the sight of trees and greenery now coming into view, you know that the port of Tartus is near. The sand dunes have turned into grasslands, the yellow and green grass replacing the golds and browns of the sand.

“Princess,” Xavier’s voice draws you out of your thoughts. You hum in response, eyes remaining closed as the horse continues on its way. “Why did thou remain silent before?”

“My mother taught me that if one does not have a kind thing to say, to not say it at all,” you play coy and dance around the meaning of your silence.

Xavier simply chuckles in response, shaking his head. He enjoys this game with you, whether you are aware of it or not. He rests his hand on his thigh, looking away and at the setting sun.

The Philos army travels across the bluffs of the new village. It is governed by Nabira but most of its soldiers come from Lemuria, an old alliance that formed between the kingdoms centuries ago. Two halves that operate in peace and harmony. Xavier looks away, thinking that it will take about an hour to reach the port. He feels your body relax against him once he notices you finally catch wind of the sight.

“Is there someone thou wishes to see there?” there is slight hint of jealousy to his voice and in the way his body slightly tenses up.

Xavier knows that you were originally betrothed to the Lemurian prince, a man by the name of Rafayel. He has only met the prince a handful of times and their interactions were short and brief. He has the most unusual appearance, his hair a vibrant purple color and his irises holding more than one color. Rafayel is extremely extroverted, the complete opposite of the prince himself. Xavier prefers to engage with parties from the outside whereas Rafayel loves to be in the middle of it all.

He does not wish to speak ill of your previous betrothed, simply following your mother’s advice that you bestowed upon him.

“And if there is?” a small smirk flashes across your face.

You hide it as you turn to face him, his hand finding itself on your side as you lean into it, getting the best look possible. His brows are slightly knitted, his jaw clenched. His eyes have lost all of their wonder and dare you say it — sparkle — that he once held towards you. There is a darkness behind his eyes and yet all you can feel amusement towards his sudden possessiveness towards you because, well…what else could it be?

“Will thou play the role of my knight in shining armor?” you lower your voice.

Xavier’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down. His grip on the leather reins tightens. His heart pounds on the inside of his chest. He unconsciously moves towards you, leaning in as his breathing grows heavier.

You truly are a viper, aren’t you?

You let out a quiet sigh. Leaning forward, you pluck the veil from your bag, placing it over your head and the diary. Xavier may not be able to understand the written form of your language, but you wish to have some kind of privacy from the outside world as you travel the last length of distance. The diary opens up with a soft crinkle sound, your finger acting as a bookmark. Sunlight breaks through the sheer veil but protects your eyes from the star, the veil providing slight shade for you.

In the quiet of my chambers, the oil lamps flicker low… The weight of my crown feels most distant. I confess to these pages that I dare not speak aloud.

Caleb. My emperor.

Your ancestor’s silent plight calls to you. You see her words, feeling as they resonate throughout your body. The ink looks shaky as if her hands were trembling as she wrote these words. She has gone through the same conflict you feel inside of your heart and mind. Forced to be wed to a stranger, a man who holds power.

Yours is a mere prince, the weight of a newer yet large kingdom resting on your shoulders. Your ancestor, though? She married an emperor who ruled an empire that stretched from one side of the world to the other.

And yet your internal struggles remain as one, the same trouble of having to share the sheets with a man who is so foreign to you. Does she share the same worries of a mistress? Does she also feel the inexplicable urge to cross the distance, no matter how big or small it may be, and to unite with him as one?

Betrayal coated over a toad. But for some reason I find myself wanting to kiss him.

He stands atop marble steps now gilded in cracks and anger. But I can't help my feelings for him. Even when duty made a stranger of him.

Yet in the stillness that followed…Gideon emerged.

A quiet laugh leaves your lips before you can stop it. You continue to read through the passage, unable to contain the small gasps that leave your body from the revelations that she has confessed to the pages of the diary. The heat from the irony of the situation making the sun even more unbearable. You feel the warmth of Xavier’s armor push into your back. From the corner of your eye, you watch as he reaches to the side of you, picking up the corner of the veil before slowly lifting it up.

“Yes, Xavier?” you ask with a quiet voice, closing the diary. “Is there something thou wishes to say?”

“What…amuses you?” Xavier asks in a quiet voice. “Thine’s smile disappeared when she saw me…how may I see it again?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Your gaze flickers to the sliver between his head and the fabric, the blue sky growing darker. Xavier simply leans to the side and effortlessly catches your gaze once again.

“Answer me,” his command is harsh while his tone reeks of slight desperation.

Perhaps you made your judgment on him too quick. Maybe Xavier truly does wish to make an effort to be your husband. Your future with him will now be one that is easy and complimentary, yes? You will both make an effort for things to be good. Maybe love will come out of it in due time.

“Are you asking me that as the future king or as Xavier?” you quietly ask. Xavier’s face flinches. Your eyes drop to his lips before moving back to his eyes.

He does not reply. You slightly tilt your head to the side, the sunset flashing into your eyes, illuminating your irises. Xavier’s breath hitches and he suddenly believes in his country’s religion again. He blinks at you, too flustered to focus. 

Suddenly, the sound of men’s snickering and cheers captures your attention. You draw away from Xavier, your posture straightening. You turn to the front, staring through the veil, noticing that the soldiers stare at the two of you. Embarrassment floods your body, your cheeks heating up. Xavier slips out of the veil, his sharp glare silencing the soldiers.

“Turn around,” Xavier commands them with such ease it sends chills down your spine.

He slows your horse, the soldiers passing by on their own animals or jogging around you. Xavier watches them as they go, your horse coming to a full stop. His hands slip under the fabric that pools at your hips, his gloved hand resting on your stomach, pulling you closer to him. You cannot move. You’re frozen as time and the soldiers pass you by, only able to fully breathe again once the sound of their horse’s and footsteps fade into nothing.

Xavier removes the veil from your body, holding it away from you as you try to snatch it back from him. The horse whinnies. You glare at him, turning back around to the front, watching as the soldiers march into the distance. Xavier’s grip on you tightens. The raised metal of his coat of arms pokes into your skin, leaving you breathless. He leans down, the tip of his nose grazing against the shell of your ear with closed eyes.

“Do you wish me to be?” Xavier whispers into your ear.

“Wish thou to be what?”

“To be yours, your knight in shining armor,” Xavier is breathless, his cheeks bright in color. You close your eyes, unable to think of an immediate response.

Is it not early to show such affections? Is Xavier showing his cards too easy? It feels like a trap. A sudden sweetness to win your favor before his alliance with Nabira can be severed when your Lemurian friend comes into the portrait. There is no way that he could possibly feel jealousy towards an old suitor. You were never going to leave Xavier even if you tried. You need Philos’ alliance for your father’s sake. You are unequivocally his despite your distaste towards the matter.

“Do what you want,” you breathe out, “it is no matter to me.”

“Truly you do not mean that,” he quickly follows up.

“Unburden yourself, Xavier,” his breath hitches at the sound of his name, “and take us to the port.”

Xavier follows your command. He kicks the horse into motion, tightly holding the reins to keep the horse in check. The horse shifts into a gallop, crossing the distance with ease and flipping up through the pack. The people part for his highness and you remain resigned in front of him, focusing your eyes on the port that lies ahead.

You wish that your childhood friend, a boy you haven’t seen in little over three years since the crusades were first brought to Nabira’s attention, is there to see you to your new home. Rafayel was the one who sailed the seas and rode on a horse with his father as soon as they saw Philos’ army. They did not hesitate to offer help, help which your father declined, and you had to say goodbye to the man you originally were ready to marry.

It will be nice to see him. You can silently plead for aid and protection with the Lemurian ladies in the Philos court — if they have any, that is. He is sure to help you. Maybe he will find himself at your wedding to the infamous Lumière, a man who was sure to have killed both Nabirans and Lemurians in battle. Xavier was a common enemy before he turned into your betrothed. Does that change things with your Lemurian prince now?

 After an hour, the Philos army reaches the lively port. The army stays on the outskirts of the port city while you, Xavier, the King, and a smaller portion of the army make your way through the decorated scene. You know that today is a Lemurian holiday, one where they take the night off and dance the night away. They are very free spirited people with art, music, and their navy being their priorities and greatest achievements. Even Rafayel is known to have a few masterpieces under his belt at his young age.

The smile returns to your face. Many of the Lemurian and Nabiran citizens bow their heads at you, stopping in their tracks to show their reverence for their domina. It was sure to be known by now that you are leaving for the rest of your life, that you will never return. Tonight will be as much about your release from the kingdom as much as it is their holiday.

Xavier keeps his eyes on you, watching as you gaze upon the Lemurian rich city with such wonder and awe. It is different from Philos’ much more mild mannered festivities. The city, even when it is an ocean away from their kingdom, is much more vibrant and colorful compared to Philos’ whites and grays color scheme. Much more lighter and monotone from the Lemurian’s bright blues and pinks and purples.

He knows that you will have much fun tonight. There is no reason for you to listen to him or keep you away from that friend of yours. He may accompany you, though, even if you disagree to it. He wants to see what his future bride likes to take part in. It is what every good husband should know, no? He should make for sure that man does not taint your honor or bring any stigmas onto yourself for the Philos court to hear about before your arrival.

It is the least he can do as your future husband.

The horses arrive at the Lemurian’s biggest ship, the Abysswalker, a ship that Rafayel is known to command, just as the sailors disembark from the wooden ship. As soon as Xavier’s horse comes to a slow, you swing your leg over the horse’s head and slide off of the animal, your feet colliding with the earth made dock that the Aysswalker is connected to.

“The domina has arrived,” Rafayel calls to his men as he walks down the wooden plank over the small gap between the ship and the dock, “make sure to behave.” A smile spreads across his face. Your eyes flicker to his hair, which is longer than you remember it being, the purple strands stopping right when they meet his shoulders.

“Is that a command for me or your men?” you smile at him, resting your hands on your hips just as he steps foot back onto land. He stops right in front of you and leans down, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I’d like to think it was one for you,” Rafayel’s smile is as bright as the rest of his face. He mimics your hands on the hips and rests back on one foot. “Did you get shorter?”

“One would think you are insufferable,” you retort back.

“Welcome to Tartus, my lady,” Rafayel takes a step forward, delicately taking your hand. He brings your knuckles to his mouth, his eyes meeting yours, and presses a sweet kiss to your hand like the true gentleman he is. You crack a smile at him, feeling even safer with him than you do with Xavier. Rafayel’s eyes flicker to Xavier, who has gotten off the horse and made himself at home in the space behind you. “Prince Xavier, we have been expecting thy’s arrival.”

“Is that so?” Xavier rests his hand on the hilt of his sword. You purse your lips in annoyance. “Will you be the one who escorts my queen and I to Philos?”

“Yes,” Rafayel’s posture stiffens at the mention of you being his so called queen. His eyes move to you, catching the annoyance that moves across your face. “My apologies if our banter has crossed a line with your…king.”

“I am not his queen yet,” you muse, feeling the tension begin to form between the three of you. You are simply weighing all of your options. You do not wish to marry a man who may be planning your death, making it look like the journey to Philos destroyed you. At least you know you are safe with the Lemurians around.

“Ah,” Rafayel nods his head, turning his attention back to Xavier, “allow me to show you to your quarters. Thou must have had a long day. Rest will do you well before we set sail.”

Xavier nods and steps around you, following the men that immediately move from behind Rafayel. The Philos soldiers set off, except for his father’s Kingsguard, for their own camp since they will be traveling back to Philos by foot. About three years journey across the land if Xavier’s father decides to not send any ships to pick them up and ease the distance. He hesitates when he notices that you and Rafayel do not move a muscle, your eyes never leaving each other’s.

“It’s been a long time,” you whisper to him over the sound of squawking birds, “you’ve grown into the role of Captain.”

“Admiral, actually,” Rafayel’s smile grows more smug by the second. You nod your head at him, keeping it coy and detached. “Do you wish to celebrate tonight, my lady? I remember you telling me that you would love to celebrate the holiday.”

“I would love to if you are the one who keeps me company,” perhaps you are a little too polite in your response. It is all in good faith and all at the expense of your soon to be husband. You like the way his face darkens when another man offers you his gaze, the way he grows jealous at even the slightest thought of you plotting against him or simply when you entertain someone who isn’t him.

“I shall join too, then,” Xavier steps back. His eyes move to yours then your lips. “I shall accompany you.”

“Three is considered to be a crowd,” Rafayel tries to interject.

“Who is to say that he may last through the night?” you challenge. Xavier’s nostrils flare. “My prince, perchance you have spare clothes for me to wear.”

“It can be arranged, princess,” your head snaps in his direction at the title. Rafayel smirks and steps away, walking towards the nearby building by the dock.

You let out an amused huff of air. Xavier steps in front of you. He tightly grips his sword, looking down at you with intense eyes. You attempt to step around him but Xavier blocks the path, his armored hand digging into your flesh. You let out a quiet gasp, feeling a stinging sensation as he yanks you towards him.

“Am I to be worried, princess?” Xavier asks, his voice low and dangerous.

“We speak of clothes,” you say.

“Do you think me a fool?” Xavier counters. You catch the sharpness in his tone. 

“You know I am to be yours,” you match his tone, “he means no harm.”

“He is mad.”

“Just as you are?” you lift your connected hands to his eye line.

Xavier immediately releases his grip. He takes a step back, the scrapes of his armor quiet, and diverts his gaze. You purse your lips and walk around him, following in the direction that Rafayel walked in.

The purple haired prince approaches a tall sandstone building. It is much taller than the rest of the seaside village, a landmark for those watching from afar but also a place for nobles and diplomats to stay. You have never been here but your brother has and he told you all about how lively the village is, the way the candles are never snuffed out, acting like golden stars in the night sky.

You pick up the extra fabric that pools near your feet as you walk. You slice through the crowd, the people dispersing as soon as they notice you, and watch as Rafayel waves his hands at the guards by the door. The wooden doors creak to life as you reach the top of the stairs. The prince offers you his arm and you immediately take it.

Xavier scoffs from behind, glaring at the sight of your connected bodies. A scowl overtakes his face as he steps through the doors, entering inside of the brightly lit noble-run home. Servants scurry past, holding sheets and plates of food, bowing their heads at Xavier as they pass. He approaches his father’s side, his eyes never leaving you and Rafayel as you laugh about some comment he makes. Xavier does not see the humor you do in the prince. Do you not know that he is known to be a rake? Xavier and his hand, Jeremiah, have watched as Rafayel passed himself around the ballroom, never taking the time to act like a proper human being.

“Do you know of the festivities, father?” Xavier has to pull his gaze away from you and Rafayel, turning to look at the king that stands beside him. “Will they be…worthwhile?”

“You should partake,” the king responds. He barely even looks at Xavier as he speaks with one of the captains in his army, “unwind. Get to know your wife. Be a prince.”

“Be a prince?” Xavier repeats the words with a slight scoff. “Am I not the man you molded me to be?”

“Tonight,” Xavier’s father sighs and dismisses his man. From over his son’s shoulder, he watches as you and Rafayel disappear up the stairs with a governess close behind, a role that you will soon grow used to once you reach Philos. “Drop thy sword and shed yourself of thine armor. Indulge yourself. Be ready to leave it behind as soon as the sun rises.”

“Yes, sir,” Xavier mutters to himself.

He bows his head to his father and turns away, one of the servants beckoning for him to follow to his temporary bed chambers. The prince allows himself to relax on the journey up through stairs, the metal armor on his body finally beginning to weigh him down. He reaches the top of the stairs. The sound of your laughter stops him in his path. He abandons the servant and walks down the hallway, the clicks of his metal boots echoing down the corridor.

You sit in a room with Rafayel, along with a handful of other nobles who reside in the seaside village, and hold a glass of wine in your hand, swirling around the dark liquid before bringing it up to your lips. The language has changed from the one from Philos to a picture between Nabiran and Lemurian. Neither you nor Rafayel could stick with just one. You watch Rafayel from over the rim of the gold chalice, his drunken friends lounged on the couch as they twiddle with the strings of a lute, the dull notes filling the calmed atmosphere.

“Tell me, domina,” Rafayel begins. He takes a sip from his chalice before lowering it to the table, crossing the distance, and placing himself in the open space beside you, “what do you think of life outside of Nabira’s castle walls?”

“Tis different,” you cooly respond. You place your goblet beside his. “I never thought I would have left so soon.”

“Right,” Rafayel leans down, his eyes fixated on yours, “one did not think your father would ever let you leave the palace. He barely let anyone in for that matter.”

“And yet here I am,” you muse, slightly narrowing your eyes at the purple haired man, “outside of the walls, about to set sail on your ship towards my new fate.”

“I knew I would have the honor of sailing with you,” the prince begins. He slowly leans in some more, your noses a dangerous distance from one another. He tilts his head to the side, taking in the floral scent of your perfume, the way you hold yourself strong against his sudden closeness. Rafayel lowers his voice, his eyes slightly darkening. “I always thought the destination would be Lemuria rather than...Philos.”

You hesitate to respond. You watch Rafayel carefully, observing the way his eyes are all over your face, taking you in from a short distance. He smells like the sea, the hint of salty water and his sweat, his musk, mixes in with the scent. His eyes are vibrant and yet you can see the overprotective nature of your friend begin to seep out.

When Rafayel and his aunt, the Princess Talia, visited Nabira when he was just a boy, he would refuse to let you leave his sight. The two of you would always sit next to each other during meals and he would make you show him all of your favorite places in the Nabiran palace. You showed him the statues of your ancestors, the painted images that you quietly prayed to. He watched as you shot your arrows and in turn you watched him as he fought your brother with wooden swords — although you remember him favoring a trident instead.

“Are you disappointed in the outcome, my prince?” you quietly ask.

“Do not call me that,” Rafayel whispers. “I know the game thou dost engage in.”

“Call thou what?” you play the role of an innocent damsel much to his dismay.

“My prince.”

“Why not?” you tilt your head to the side, eyes never leaving his. It feels as if you can barely breathe with him so close to you, the tension bubbling in the air. “It is thy’s title, is it not?”

“Yes but,” Rafayel sucks in a breath, his voice neither rising nor falling, “I am no longer yours.”

“Thou art my friend,” you whisper, “art thou not?”

“I should be glad that you are his vixen to deal with,” Rafayel pulls away. With the distance, you are able to breathe again. “You are his princess—”

“Domina,” you sharply correct him, your gaze narrowing, “I am not married to him yet.”

“You aren’t,” Rafayel shifts his weight to his back foot, watching you closely, “but thou will be soon enough.”

Your body runs cold. There is truth to his words, you know it to be true. Denial runs through your thoughts. You have accepted your fate and yet here you are, spiraling over someone else pointing out the less than ideal circumstances you find yourself in.

A small smile breaks Rafayel’s serious demeanor. He reaches for your chalice, taking it from its place, and brings it to his lips, sipping the dark red wine that sits inside the cup. You tear your gaze away from him, clearing your throat, and notice a silver figure move into the darkness of the hallway, the wooden door closing shut.

“That prince of yours is trouble,” the Lemurian says from behind you. You do not turn to look at him, simply wishing that you will see Xavier soon. “I do not trust him.”

“Is that so?” you hum, finally turning to look at Rafayel. He simply nods in response.

You look back to the door, pushing off of the table you stand beside, and walk towards it, pushing the wooden panel open. You take a step out. The corridor is much more dark than the inside of the parlor room. Lit candles hang from chandeliers, the wax spilling over the dark metal. The light is warm, a deep orange to cut through the darkness of the night, and you look at Rafayel from over your shoulder.

“Fetch me when you are ready to embark,” you offer him a small smile. Rafayel simply nods in response, turning away from you and to the nobles inside of the parlor.

You disappear down the corridor, following the sound of footsteps up the next flight of stairs. The figure escapes you as soon as you reach the top and you let out an annoyed huff of air. You take a glance around and let out a quiet sigh, walking down the stone hallway. The sounds of your sandals swiping against the floor fills in the silent hallway. You can hear the faint crashing of distant waves, the ocean restless as ever, while you navigate your way towards your bedchambers. As soon as the door comes into sight, you disappear behind it.

Your leather bag and bow sit on your bed, a welcome sight for sore eyes. You approach the bed and sit on the edge, a small frown forming on your face. Rafayel’s words of warning sit with you. They leave you no comfort nor do they make you feel secure in your silent alliance with him. Xavier has given you no signal that he wishes to betray you — quite the opposite, actually, with his sudden posessiveness over you — nor has there been any signs from his father that he wishes to make you a martyr to the people of Nabira.

The sudden competition between Xavier and Rafayel is nothing you could have ever expected for yourself. You always thought that the other men in your life would respect the choices made for you. You are forced to remain passive when it comes to your marital status while the men around you are actively dictating who you will fall asleep beside for the rest of your days. This is, unless your husband were to die. Then you would be forced off to wed yet another man in power whose only mission in life is to secure his throne and provide his kingdom with an heir.

The leather bound diary stares at you. It sits beside the leather bag, its gold accents and jewels beckoning you towards it. You reach out and grasp the small book, bringing it towards your chest. Perhaps your ancestor’s words will bring you some semblance of peace. The pages welcome you as soon as you open the diary, her handwriting already calming down your rapidly beating heart.

Caleb was the sun. Gideon is the moon.

How could she have had the same predicament as you? Feeling affection towards two men. Your familiarity with Rafayel, the bright spirited man whom you have held affection towards for so long.

Then there is Xavier. A man whom you have been forced to share horseback with, forever tied to his reins, unable to make an escape from his intense eyes and wandering hands. In the time you have spent together, little has been said. You originally thought that silence was the best way to show your rebellion towards him and the arranged marriage.

You move to the next passage of the diary entry.

He speaks little, but in his silence, I find refuge. I see the burden he carries. The way his eyes linger too long when he thinks I do not notice. The protection he offers in more ways than one.

Could you too find refuge in his silence? You know he watches you every chance he gets. You are sure that he will never be too far from you if he is to attend the Lemurian festivities tonight. He is sure to drown in the crowd, to fade into the background while you take center stage with your would have been husband, the man you always imagined standing beside instead of the fair headed man your father sold you off to.

Will this be a test for him to show his worth to you? A way to win your heart over in the political game of intrigue that you have found yourself in? He has been in it for his entire life, surely he knows how to win the heart of his chosen princess…your heart.

I should be ashamed, but I am only tired. Tired of pretending the ache in my chest is loyalty alone… If the gods hear me, let them judge gently. My heart is torn between crown comfort and love. Let this ink keep my secret.

You never believed in the gods. Sure, your mother held an expectation of religion upon you, but you knew the truth. You knew that the gods abandoned the earth a long time ago, around the fall of Rome, when magic and Evols have left world. They took all of the splendor with them. The magic that you wished so desperately to see.

Tales told during the fall of Rome have left the world wondering what happened to people who held magic. Did they die with the Emperor and his bloodline? Were they hunted for sport and killed in gladiator battles like martyrs? Or has the magic the world once held in its people slowly vanish throughout the years?

Your mother always liked to joke that you hold the same power like your ancestor, arguably one of the greatest Emperors that Rome has had, but more in the way of him being able to connect and unite his empire together. You have always had the charm of an angel and people naturally gravitated towards you. According to your mother, you also hold a special connection to the past, something that nobody has ever seen before.

You like to call it empathy but your mother thinks your ancestors have chosen you to be their voice.

You close the diary and let out a slow exhale. The pads of your fingers run along the cover, feeling the warm metal against your touch. It grounds you as your mind wanders away from itself. You stand from the bed and take a quick peek into a nearby trunk, pulling out a blue silk dress, one made in a Lemurian fashion. You hold the dress in your hands. It feels devastatingly heavy despite the thinness to it. Your thoughts turn into the future, what it holds for you. You have accepted the fact that you are stuck between two men.

Both of whom wish to see you by their side, whether they have said it aloud or not is neither here nor there. Both men wish to see you thrive but to thrive under their control, a queen that will serve them the best for them and their reign. You do not know if you should feel flattered by this revelation or if you should pack your things, steal a horse, and run back to the safety of the Nabiran border.

A knock at the door. Your posture straightens. You wipe away a tear that you did not know even fell. The door pushes open and you narrow your eyes in the darkness, seeing a pale head of hair enter your chambers. You quickly stand, hands folded in front of your stomach. Xavier is quick to close the door, making sure that it does not make too much noise to alert any of the guards who stand down the hall. He wears a white cotton shirt, the small strings of fabric remaining untied, exposing the top part of his muscular build. The sleeves are slightly puffy. One glance down shows that he wears leather pants and matching boots. He is a prime example of what a peasant in Philos would look like. Well, that is what the books you have read told you. He turns around, his eyes finally landing on yours.

He is silent. He slowly takes in your appearance, his sword remaining attached to his side. His blue eyes drop from your face and to your body. Suddenly you feel small under his gaze. You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, hands growing clammy. You fidget with your fingers as Xavier takes slow and calculated steps towards you. The air thins with every step. You tilt your head to look up at him, the silk gentle against your skin, moving with your body. You take a step backwards. The back of your knees hit the bed frame, the slightly splintered wood pushing into your flesh.

“You look…beautiful,” Xavier breathes out.

His hand moves towards your face, gently cupping your cheek. You do not move. His touch sends chills down your spine and your mouth goes dry. Xavier’s eyes drop from your face, the tips of his fingers grazing against your skin. You suck in a sharp breath. The tips of his fingers move from your cheek to the exposed skin on your shoulder. There is a strip of blue and white silk with a layer of sheer and pearls covering it. It hangs from your shoulder, acting like a loose sleeve. Xavier’s calloused finger hooks around the sleeve, giving it a gentle tug.

“Thou is silent again,” Xavier quietly remarks. 

“I have nothing to say,” you murmur. His eyes flit to yours. Your heart skips a beat, cheeks slowly heating. He leans in, trapping you against the bed

“Is it polite to not give thanks?” Xavier matches your volume. You try to look away but he tilts his head to meet your eyes once again. “Answer me.”

“Pray tell, why dost thou concern himself?” you whisper. The candle flickers in the background. You try to use it to steady yourself but Xavier’s proximity makes you feel uneasy.

“Thou is my wife,” Xavier murmurs. He reaches up and pushes the dark hair out of your face, his eyes focusing on yours once again. “My bride’s concerns shall be mine.”

“I am not thy bride,” you breathe the words out and close your eyes just as he leans in.

Your foreheads meet and his hands find themselves on your waist. He pulls you close to him, your body flush against his. Your hands rest on his chest, pushing against his defined muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. He keeps you close, though, his breathing mixing in with yours, growing heavier by the second. His hand moves from your waist to the back of your head, his lips now hovering beside your ear.

“Why must you deny me the pleasure that is you?” Xavier sighs. “Must thou remain difficult?”

“I am not a heart to be won, just to be forgotten,” you respond. You unconsciously move your hands from his chest and place them around his neck, hooking around him. He pulls you closer. “I am not won through chivalrous gestures nor will I be swayed with grand romance.”

“Then tell me,” the prince pulls away. His hand slips from the back of your head and to your cheek. His touch is fire against your skin. It burns. Your stomach flips in on itself. You catch yourself before you can lean into it. “Tell me how I shall win thy heart.”

“Tis not my heart to be won,” you loosen your grip on him, “tis respect and honor. Duty.”

“Duty?” his face flickers with confusion. You slip away from him but the tips of his fingers graze along the bare skin of your arm. He captures your hand, not allowing you to escape him quite yet.

“Love will grace thine hearts in time. Tis a truth we must embrace. I seek a noble soul, a steadfast protector, who shall remain at my side, undaunted by the whispers and tales woven by thy’s court,” your whisper grows louder. Xavier loosens his grip on your hand, allowing it to fall back to your side. “Thus shall you win my favor and heart’s desire.”

The village streets are as lively as Rafayel described to you as a child. Tonight’s celebration is one from Lemurian tradition, a Festival of the Sea. It is a way for the Lemurians, who originated in coastal towns in the early days of the Roman Empire, to give back to the sea, to give the oceans their thanks and praises for providing them with the means necessary to survive. Lemruians are servants to the sea and they bow to no man.

You consider yourself lucky to have an alliance with them, especially with their prince. An alliance with a Lemurian is almost always a guaranteed victory, especially when the battles take place on the sea or in royal courts across the continent.

Your arm is wrapped with Rafayel’s, his long purple hair getting caught with the wind. The two of you laugh as you reach the center of the seaside village, smiles plastered on your faces as Xavier plays the role of chaperone, remaining just a few seconds behind.

The three of you are a couple drinks in. You have passed through the stalls passing out desserts from your home kingdom and Rafayel’s as well. At one point in time, you passed off your favorite treats for Xavier to try. He finished them all with no questions or refusals, the loose crumbs from the sweet bread seasoned with saffron remains along the outline of his lips. You fought the urge to reach out and wipe the specks away.

Temptation is a slippery slope, though.

The sun has finally lowered below the horizon. Candle light and torches illuminate the night as people pass by each other with practiced ease. You miss the mixture of blues and oranges but appreciate the sight of the stars in the sky, their light and twinkling appearance putting you at ease.

You turn and look at Xavier from over your shoulder. He trails behind you and Rafayel, having remained silent for the majority of the night. You had hoped that tonight would have brought him out of his shell but you learned to appreciate his respect and openness to new traditions and cultures that are laid before him.

Xavier watches as the mixture of Lemruains and Nabrians flows throughout the village. It is unusual for him to see. The only time that Xavier has such two kingdoms get along so well — tried to, at least — was at his cousin’s wedding. One of Philos’ daughters was wed off to a king to the northwest of them, located on a smaller island.

Xavier’s mind wanders to his cousin’s wedding. He wonders what it felt like to be married to a stranger. Did her husband feel as intoxicated with her like he feels with you? Did his cousin’s husband fall in love the moment she tried to put him in his place?

He remembers his cousin’s tears the morning of her wedding. She did not get in a choice in the matter, much like  you, but unlike your circumstance with Xavier, the first time she met her king was at the wedding altar. She did not have the liberty of meeting him beforehand, they did not receive the chance to get to know each other like Xavier has with you. It is not like you talked much, though. You have remained silent while you rode across the small stretch of desert.

“What does he think of?” you turn back around, looking towards the tile ground. Rafayel looks down at you, barely sparing the fair headed prince a glance before he stops walking, stopping you with him.

“Your Highness,” Rafayel waves his hand in front of Xavier’s face. He wears a smug smirk on his face, his arm still linked with yours. He stands slightly in front of you, his face not in your eye line. “Your domina asked a question of you.”

“You did?” Xavier turns his attention to you, his once hardened expression softening.

“Twas wondering what you think of,” you state, looking straight into his eyes. You can still feel the burning sensation of his skin against yours, the way the fire and spark lingers on your body, gifting you no release. The corners of Xavier’s lips perk up in a moment of happiness but it disappears as soon as he opens his mouth to speak.

“The future,” he responds, beginning to use your own words against you.

“The future?” you tilt your head to the side, feeling seen with the way he speaks.

“Tis what I stated.”

Rafayel’s eyes flicker between the two of you. The purple haired prince does not particularly enjoy the sudden familiarity between you and your prince. He slips your hand free from his arm, catching your attention, but he quickly laces your fingers with his. You look up at him just as the heart of the village, the city square whose floor is covered in beautiful and vibrant tiles that are laid in a design of a lotus flower, begins to play its next song.

“Dance with me, domina,” Rafayel requests of you. You begin to shake your head, not remembering the last time you have danced was, especially in the carefree and energetic Lemurian fashion.

“I do not know if it is a good idea!” you laugh. From the corner of your eye, you watch as Xavier slips free from your vision.

“As long as it is a choice we make,” Rafayel draws you close to him, your hands resting upon his chest, as your combined laughter floats into the air.

The city square is flooded with people. You and Rafayel take to the center of the dance floor, assuming your beginning position together, his hand massive in comparison to yours. There are a few other couples lined up around you, their smiles as big as yours. Xavier remains in the background. One of Rafayel’s soldiers places a chalice filled with wine into his hand. He immediately begins to drink as the music swells, the string instruments and makeshift drums filling the night air.

Rafayel remains in place as you circle around him once you listen for the note to move. Your body is loose as you step around the Lemurian. Your eyes meet his blue and pink ones, feeling as the man’s hands attach themselves to yours. You memorize the sharpness of the gold and red lines on his face, admiring the way they make him look more mature. He spins you around with ease. The crowd that surrounds the dance floor is a blur.

You do not catch the scowl on Xavier’s face as he passes off the chalice to the Lemurian soldier. The wine burns down his throat. His body tingles and feels so light yet so heavy at the same time. His blue eyes remain on you and you alone. The blue silk of your dress catches in the wind while Rafayel spins you around. He wishes it was him in the Lemruian’s place.

“Thou remembers the steps,” Rafayel speaks once he brings your body back to his. The two of you dance with ease, the steps to the routine coming back to you through muscle memory.

“Tis back like a faded memory!” your laugh is breathless, the wine from before finally taking an effect on your body. You close your eyes, your smile big across your face, Rafayel’s hands guiding you through the moves. His hands attach to your waist and he lifts you up in the air, your silk dress flowing in the wind, before your feet connect with the ground again. You look up at him from over your shoulder once the music comes to an end, slightly out of breath. “I need wine!”

“Aye!” Rafayel cheers from over the sound of applause. He claps his hands together before taking your hand into his, leading you away from the dance floor.

Xavier’s head perks up as soon as he catches a glimpse of your blue dress leaving the dance floor. He pushes through the crowd as people file onto the mosaic tiled floor. He bumps into a few peasants, offering a quiet apology as his vision blurs. He spots your skirt and follows it like it is his North Star. The prince does not lose sight of it, watching as you sit at a nearby table where Rafayel takes the spot by your side. The man stumbles up to the table and sits on the wooden bench, making for sure that he is in front of you.

“Xavier,” there is a hint of concern in your voice. You lean forward just as a woman places glasses of wine and mead onto the table. “Art thou—”

“The prince will be okay, my domina,” Rafayel interrupts. He reaches over you and places the glass of mead in front of Xavier, placing one of wine front of you. You turn and look at him, beginning to shake your head. “Aye, calm, domina. He can take care of himself.”

“Tis not why I worry,” you mutter under your breath.

You look at Xavier. His cheeks are light pink in color, his eyes disoriented as he looks directly at you. It sends chills down your spine. you look him up and down, noticing the beads of sweat that roll down his neck. The man is clearly not used to the heat, thankfully, he will be back in his kingdom and you with him. There is enough space for him on the bench beside you. You gesture to it and the man’s eyes grow wide. He stands and rounds the table, taking the place by your side.

“Necessary?” Rafayel asks in his mother tongue. The sound is sweet on your ears. You welcome it with open arms.

“His men are watching,” you return your words in his language while covering your action with an excuse, nodding your head to the Philos dressed soldiers who stand not too far away. “Does thou wish for my image to be tainted?”

“If it means I get to thou mine, it would have been worth it,” Rafayel’s voice is genuine.

You pause in your moment, feeling Xavier lean into your side. You meet Rafayel’s gaze but he is quick to look away. A frown forms across your face, your stomach erupting with butterflies. Rafayel finally turns to look back at you, his face void of his charade, one that he kept on to ensure that your prince felt safe in enemy territory.

“Might I take a quick leave? The night is not over and I wish to break bread with thou one last time before we sail the sea,” Rafayel stands from the bench and leaves before you can even respond.

You face forward, staring at the group of people who dance and sing in the Lemurian tongue. The chalice of wine in your hand grows lighter as you sip on the alcohol, your body slipping into a more relaxed state. Xavier groans from beside you, his blue eyes desperately wanting to meet yours but you are too to notice him. He sits up, holding all of his weight to himself now, and stares at the lively scene before him.

Philos is not like this. Their celebrations are much more tame in comparison to the Lemurians. They dance in organized rows and their desserts are are frivolous as their clothes. Many woman in Philos dress their best every single day. Their fashion is to catch the eyes of possible suitors — or perhaps the eye of a prince — and to show off their wealth. It is materialistic now that he thinks about it. Xavier never paid too much attention to it, his head always in a book or sparring with other soldiers at the base of the mountain. His time, much like yours, has been dedicated to the betterment of his kingdom, not to learn dances for celebrations or worry if he wears the most expensive fabrics.

Although, Xavier will spend the kingdom’s treasury if you asked him to. He will buy you all of the silks and jewels that you could ever ask for. He will hand you gold coins for exotic animals and perfumes if it meant he got to see the same smile you wore on your face while dancing.

“Princess,” Xavier slightly slurs the word, his rationality finally catching up to him.

“Prince,” you return his greeting, turning your head to look at the man.

“I wish to leave this place,” he informs you. You raise your eyebrows, slight dejection morphing across your face. “I wish to leave while thou wishes to remain. Pray tell, when I depart, dost thou intend to spend the eve with Prince Rafayel?”

“What hath befallen thee?” your voice is loud enough to listen to over the sound of the string and wind instruments. The banging of the drum is noticeably absent as a slower song plays. “Why worry oneself with trivial matters?”

“It matters,” Xavier reassures you. His eyes move away and he spots Rafayel approaching with a plate of desserts and Lemurian delicacies. He notices, though, that the plate lacks any food from Nabira. He scoffs and turns back to you. “I do not wish to see thee with a man of his stature.”

“He is an Admiral,” you comment, a small smile tugging the corners of your lips up.

“And I a prince. One who commands his own vassal!”

“You are both princes,” you correct him, “and yet you are the one who wishes to conquer.”

“I do not wish to conquer,” Xavier shakes his head, “I follow my King’s command but he? That vile villain, wishes to conquer.”

“Lemuria holds no dream of conquest,” it is your turn to scoff and look away. Xavier quickly cups your cheek and brings your gaze back to him. There is desperation and anger in his eyes, a hunger that slowly begins to overtake him.

“Lemuria may not,” Xavier whispers, “but he does. He doth desire to conquer thee as his own.”

Silence falls upon you. Your posture straightens and you turn away from Xavier, a chill running down your spine despite it being a hot night. Rafayel approaches the table and sits across from you, placing the plate in the center. His blue and pink eyes focus on Xavier, who remains effortlessly devoted to you, while you stare at the party that unfolds from afar, a look of confusion and calculation written all over your face.

“What? What concerns thee?” Rafayel asks with a quiet snort. He glares at Xavier before his expression softens as soon as you turn to face him.

“I wish to take my leave back to my chambers,” you stand and Xavier follows suit. “My betrothed will ensure I am safe.”

“No,” Rafayel stands and is quick to walk around the table. He takes your hands in his own before you even realize it, a quiet gasp escaping your lips. “Allow me, my lady.”

Xavier reaches to the connected hands, breaking them apart. He gently pushes you behind him, his tired and reddened eyes narrowed at the sailor. Rafayel clenches his jaw, his hands returning to his sides, before his eyes flicker back to you. He lets out a stiff chuckle. He bows his head and steps to the side. His eyes remain tied to Xavier’s, blissfully unaware as you reach for the sweet saffron bread from the plate, tucking it behind your back and out of sight.

“Fair night be unto thee, my domina,” Rafayel bows his head as Xavier guides you away, “we shall meet upon morrow’s dawn to take you home.”

You pause. Xavier looks down at you, noticing the strain that flashes across your face.

Home. Is that not the place you were plucked from? It is now a two day ride away from Nabira’s borders and after your journey across the sea, you will be months away, years if you travel by foot.

Xavier places his hand on the low of your back. He glares at Rafayel and gently pushes you forward. You walk through the crowd, bowing your head back at people who pay you the respect first.

Tonight, you were barely seen as a domina, as a political and heavenly figure that must have respect gifted towards. You were as normal as the servants who passed you by, their smiles as big as yours as you danced with Rafayel. Your feet hurt. Xavier remains close to your side, waving away any of his soldiers that step forward to help. The two of you find yourselves walking along the dock where the Abysswalker floats which sits beside your inn for the night.

Xavier remains a small distance from you, watching as you walk the line along the dock where the ocean water sprays you whenever a wave comes crashing in. There are no more lanterns around to guide you through the night. The only light now comes from the bright and full moon. You look down into the waves, the water as black as night. You look back up at Xavier, whose back straightens as soon as your eyes land on him. You hold out the piece of bread.

“Eat this,” you speak. He takes the bread and rips it apart, your mind still dizzy from the glasses of wine you have drank throughout the night. “It will save thee a headache.”

“Will it?” Xavier quietly hums to himself. He brings the spiced bread up to his lips, slowly chewing as he watches you. “Why take leave with me?”

“Why fill my head with thoughts of conquering and worry? Hm?” you are quick to counter. You slow your steps and so does Xavier. He finishes the bread with a few more bites, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What mission did thine accomplish?”

“Truth,” Xavier states.

The moonlight shines along your dark hair, the light reflecting off the strands. It brings Xavier comfort to know that the moon adorns you with its beauty, that the silver colors of the night suit you as much as the golden colors of a day in the desert do.

“Truth? Is that you speak of?” you step closer to Xavier. He simply nods in response. You do not know if he speaks of truth in an objective or subjective manner.

The problem with truth and so called honesty, as you have come to learn from many moments in your life, is that there is always motive behind it. People do not willingly expose their worries or sorrows, they do not put their cards on full display for their enemies to see because, well, that is what you and Xavier are, no? The truths that originate from men in power, from soldiers and nobles, are always attached with a hidden context, something that you know to look out for.

So…what is Xavier’s motive for showing you his cards?

“I do not wish to be thine enemy,” Xavier fills in the silence. The lights of the noble-run inn flicker. You focus on the yellow flames instead of the blue in Xavier’s irises. “I wish for us to unite as one.”

“The why speak of campaigns for my heart?” you ask, feeling vulnerability slip into your voice.

“Duty’s embrace is cruel, domina,” Xavier slips into your mother tongue. You hold back a gasp, shock written all over your face. “I do not wish to see us succumb to the cruelty and coldness that come with it.”

“Why does thou work hand in hand with it? Duty forced thee across the world! You are an accomplice to duty,” you speak, closing the distance between you and him. Perhaps it is the wine that has given you the courage to speak up. Maybe it is the way you have finally realized that you are now doomed and will be imprisoned in a place that does not want you.

“You are as much of an accomplice as I am,” Xavier counters.

“Duty did not force me to set honor to the side and traverse the realms to slay innocent people,” your breathing grows heavy, “it did not force me to smite those who oppose my rule.”

“You speak of thine brother?” Xavier switches back to his tongue. It frustrates you.

“Of course I speak of him,” tears fill your eyes, “he was taken from me. It was your doing.”

“He was well aware of his intent,” Xavier groans, “he knew the rules of combat as did I.”

“A battle to the death,” you laugh and push past him. The silk of your dress sends chills down his spine. “How pitiful.”

“What course of action would thou have taken, then?” Xavier grabs your hand, pulling you back to him.

“Terms,” you spit the word out, “terms for peace.”

“The battle between thine brother and I was the terms,” Xavier’s voice drops. “His fate hath been tied to him since birth as was yours. Be grateful that you are alive.”

“Grateful for a life of servitude and political games?” your anger begins to boil deep inside of your chest. “A life with a man who does not care for me? Who chose thee on a whim? Ah, yes, your Highness, I am eternally grateful for the life fate hath laid for me.”

You rip your hand free from Xavier’s. You turn around and rush towards the tall stone building, the wooden doors opening as soon as the soldiers spot you. Xavier is hot on your tail. You move with precision, the layout of the building already memorized in the back of your mind, as you traverse the stairwells and long corridors. Xavier has kept a decent distance, following you down the dark corridor that leads to your bedroom.

“Who said I do not care?” Xavier steps forward, closing the distance with a few easy strides while you hold the fabric of your dress skirt in your hands.

“Thou dost not care by forcing his betrothed to leave everything behind,” you approach your door and grab the black handle.

You pull on it but Xavier’s hand pushes the wooden panel back into its place, trapping it and you in the process. You can feel the heat from his body on your back. You close your eyes, fists balled at your sides, feeling as Xavier leans down, his lips grazing the fragrant skin of your neck. His hand leaves the door, wrapping itself around your body, keeping you in place. You do not fight back. You lean into his chest, your back fully pressed against him.

You remain near him despite all of the warning bells in your head ringing all at once. You ignore your mind’s plea for freedom, following your innate desire to remain close to the man you will call your husband.

Xavier slowly inhales, taking in the floral scent of your perfume. His free hand reaches around your body and plants itself on your chest. The heat from his hands seeps through the thin material and you shudder, a pool of warmth forming in the pits of your stomach. You let out a breathy sigh, tilting your head to the side to give Xavier more room.

“Duty’s embrace is cruel and cold,” Xavier murmurs against your skin. Your body heats up, your face flushed as you lay your hand on top of the one that rests on your chest. “Let us endure this trail as one.”

“As one?” you breathe out.

Xavier slowly kisses your neck. He starts at the base and works his way up, pressing a feathery kiss where your pulse is the most prominent. You gasp and push your body back into his. The candlelight is dark enough for the two of you to get away with this scene, your quiet breaths and the sounds of Xavier pressing his lips over and over along your skin the only things that will give you away.

“Why me, Xavier?” you ask.

Xavier turns you around, pressing your back up against the door, hands pressed against the wood on either side of your head. He towers over you, his breath smelling like mead and wine, a sweetness stained on his mouth. You reach out and place your fingertips upon his lips, dragging them across the leftover wine stains. Xavier kisses your fingers, his blue eyes locked onto yours. You shudder. The man frees his hand from the door and cups the side of your head, his fingers tangling themselves into your hair.

“Say it again,” Xavier whispers in your native language. He avoids the question. “Say my name.”

“Xavier,” you follow his command like the obedient wife you think he wishes you to be.

A low grunt vibrates in the back of his throat. Without wasting another second, Xavier pushes forward, connecting his lips with yours. His grip on your hair slightly tightens as you accept his tongue into your mouth. He leans into you, the door creaking from the weight. Neither of you care. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his closer to yours if it is even possible. Your breaths mix in as one, quiet words of praise coming from Xavier’s mouth, muffled between your colliding lips.

He finally tastes the wine you allowed upon your lips. You taste the saffron from the bread on his tongue. The bitter mixes in with the sweet, intoxicating you deeper into the kiss. He reaches down and lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his torso. The prince pushes you into the door, the tan stone acting as a barrier between you and the rest of the world.

Xavier pulls his lips away from your swollen ones, traveling down the side of your face to your neck. He targets your pulse point, biting down on your skin. You let out a gasp, eyes flying open from the sensation. Your legs tighten around him. You feel something press into your core. It shocks you. The sound of guards stirring near the stairs makes you dig your nails into his nape.

“Xavier,” you breathe out, head rolling back into the wood of the door. Your voice remains low, matching the quiet of the night. “We shall be discovered.”

“I do not wish to leave,” Xavier’s breath is hot against your skin. His hands travel from your waist to the fabric of your dress His fingers slip under the dress and graze along the back of your leg, leaving chills in his wake. “Do not make me leave.”

“My honor—”

“Shall remain intact,” Xavier sighs and pulls away from your neck. His eyes look at your skin, a small smirk forming across his lips as dark red and purple spots littler one side of your neck. He keeps you in his arms, using one hand to hold you while he opens your chamber doors. “Duty is cruel indeed,” he mutters under his breath.

He walks you inside your room, roaming towards the bed. You feel his defined muscles from under his cloth shirt, your cheeks heating up all over again. Xavier lowers you onto your bed, quickly gathering the scattered belongings and setting them on the trunk at the foot of your bed.

He stops at the bow. He picks it up, inspecting the golden accents that are molded into the dark wood. His blue eyes flicker to you, the prince setting the weapon down atop your weapons.

“I wish to see you shoot,” he comments, remaining in place.

“Thou will,” you whisper, “in time.”

Xavier nods. His eyes flit to the empty space in bed beside you, his body wanting to move to lay beside you. He slowly steps towards the door, the candlelight just bright enough to show him his way. He pushes it open and looks back at you, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“Until tomorrow, domina,” Xavier calls to you.

“Will you get me before we leave?” you quietly ask, sinking into the blankets below you.

“Of course,” Xavier nods.

The prince silently leaves the room, closing the bed chamber door to be as quiet as he can. Xavier quietly walks down the hall, finding himself at the stairwell. Just as he is about to set foot on the stones, he spots the Lemurian prince staring at him from below. He does not speak, simply glaring at the Philos Prince.

“Say it,” Xavier barks the command.

“Thou’s greed will ruin her,” Rafayel’s voice is low and dangerous. The muscles of his arms flex, his blue and pink eyes narrowing on the prince who stands at the entrance of the stairwell. “I refuse to see it happen.”

“Need not worry,” Xavier tilts his head to the side. He licks his lips, tasting the floral notes of the oil you graced your skin with. “She will be safe with me.”

“Is that so?” the Lemurian prince asks. He moves up the stairs, the men now at eye level with each other. “Do not make me sink a boat to be rid of you.”

“If I did not know any better, one would think thou has issued a threat,” Xavier’s eyes sharpen.

“Not a threat,” Rafayel’s eyes darken, “a promise.”

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