#there is another one that is missing here but for some reason tumblr hates it and refuses to upload. bruhhhhhhhhhhhhhuhuhhhh

[f1archivist]

OSCAR PIASTRI F2 Reaction Gifs Masterpost -> i do believe this is the entire set of oscar gifs minus one that tumblr refused to upload for a total of 29. enjoy!! obligatory "thank you prema for these" as well -> f3 version of this post is here

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[kalloway]

noticing a habit of doing sketch pages in p much exactly the same way every time

bottom right-hand corner always getting neglected cuz I guess I lose my ambition by then lmfao

two of these I've posted already, but now u can get psychic damage from the other sketches >:)c (also by forcing u to click on it to see anything lmfao sorry...)

(also in case tumblr misreads my own sketch - there is a cat-man and that sticky outy bit is a very badly sketched tail, I promise u)

[lightofraye]

The Reasons I'm Anti-Danneel (Redone)

I've decided to redo the original post, largely as most of it was heavily drawn/copy-pasted from @taraslittlecorner (now defunct/deactivated) and was not a good fit for me. Listing receipts/evidence of why I feel this way should be calmer, with citations, proof as much as possible.

Here’s a caveat: This is my belief. This is my stance. I am not here to shove this into anyone else’s face and go “You should not be a Danneel fan!” I'm not demanding everyone believe me. This is me explaining why I am not a fan of hers, as to why I dislike her. No, I do not “hate” her. No, I am not obligated to respect her or like her just because she’s Jensen’s wife. That’s absurd.

Whenever possible, I will provide citation. Some I am unable to, because they have been deleted from the internet and unfortunately, the Wayback Machine (aka the Internet Archive) did not archive it and no one else screenshotted/linked the evidence. I will try to keep that as minimal as possible.

I'm placing a content/trigger warning, as there may be descriptions of abuse to follow. If description of abuse bothers you, even emotional abuse, I advise you to skip.

I'll add a cut here because it's going to get long!

**Disclaimer** This are observations and opinions of what I’ve seen, as well as what others have seen on social media, in interviews, etc. Each relationship is different, and each domestic abuse case can vary in degrees of abuse, usually over time, but not always. These are just some of the things we can see publicly, and if things are shown publicly, it’s a safe bet there’s worse happening behind closed doors. I’m not a medical professional nor expert, again, these are opinions and observations. If you suspect someone you love is in an abusive relationship, please contact the proper outlets for battered women and men in your area.

Now to begin.

1. Fat Shaming Him

Jensen eating gummy bears. This post was made as a public stab at Jensen for the amount of gummy bears he was eating. It was a stab at not only his eating habits/weight, but it was also a stab at him being greedy or gluttonous.

Jensen on the carousel. Another stab at Jensen about his weight.

1A. The End Result Of Fat Shaming:

There was this. Yes, it was probably around the time he was training for the marathon with Jared, but this was a scary weight drop. Especially as marathons and running require you to really increase your caloric intake to keep your weight and energy up. On the heels of the public fat-shaming, this is rather shocking.

Dated: January 17, 2018.

Ignoring Danneel's claim of "marathon body", he did look skinny. You can compare how Jensen looked at the beginning of Supernatural to later seasons and there's a distinct difference. He's skinnier. Skinny does not always equate healthy, especially if it's muscle loss.

Unfortunately, other photos are in evidence of the massive weight loss.

This Tumblr post shows him still rather skinny during an event at FBBC.

Every time Jensen has to quarantine with her he starts to look like death warmed over, weight drop, sickly looking skin color, (which is also a sign of malnutrition), and that dead look we can’t get seem to forget. Then we get him back to work, and it’s almost an immediate improvement.

2. Unexplained Injury: There is the chunk that’s missing out of his nose now because of a nose injury that kept being explained in different instances at the same event as to how he even got it. It first appeared a day after the FBBC family reunion event that took place in May of 2018 in a post made by Danneel of Jensen playing with the kids, and people thought it was just a breathe right strip.

If you look closely, you can even see that his eyes looked to be blacked, as if he’d somehow broken his nose. Once he got to an event for Danneel’s Limbo Jewelry line launch in NYC, he kept changing the story as to how he got said injury. First he told fans that he’d hurt it by hitting a pool wall while playing with his kids. Then he said he’d dropped a keg on it. Well, if you’ve ever worked for a bar or been around kegs you know those things are heavy, and that story is untrue.

Had Danneel been walking around with an unknown injury and her story kept changing, it would have gotten attention. Men… not so much, and it shows.

3. Public Humiliation: There’s this Valentine’s Day post. Imagine reading that post, seeing your spouse mention their “first” love and then jokingly say you’re the second and “more important” love. Especially on the heels of Jensen’s fairly recent share at a convention of how “he’ll do” as her “second choice”. Your spouse should’ve been your first and only choice!

Posting him in his underwear just to garner some attention to her post. Honestly, it's pathetic, and adds to the narcissistic sociopath mentality assessment. What was the post about? To sell beer outside of Texas. But using Jensen to do it? Really, Danneel? God.

Then there's the photo of him in the bathroom. Some say he was a willing participant in the joke. I say "That doesn't matter." It's gross, crude, classless. It demonstrates how selfish she is.

I absolutely have a sense of humor. However, a joke only works if everyone is laughing.

Then there's this Jared photo. While not related to Jensen, it demonstrates just how much she doesn't care about people. She stated that she lied to Jared, that she deleted it, and then posted it anyway. How much you wanna bet that this was one of many reasons Jared and Genevieve pulled back from the Ackles? Because Danneel does not respect the Padaleckis, and Jensen cannot get Danneel to actually behave like a human being.

There's the whole AD House Tour. The whole video, she’s taking swipes at Jensen left and right. Claiming he didn't help in changing the kids’ diapers, to not cleaning the house at all, to not cooking at all.

Time stamp 0:58: The way Jensen hastily goes "not swing", to this day, honestly makes me wonder. Especially about that orgy rumor tweet....

Time stamp 1:14: Implying Jensen would be against flowers because it'd be "too girly", but then claiming he loved it. This makes me wonder. You'll see why later on in this post.

Time stamp 2:10: How is it Jensen didn't know that was the sex plant of a palm until then? Did he know nothing about that house??

Time stamp 3:11: Claiming it was Jensen’s first time in the kitchen, which literally doesn't make sense. Unless he'd been barred from the kitchen, surely he'd been in there to grab a beer, a snack, something for the kids. By saying this, she's implying that he uses her as a servant to get him everything. (I’m intrigued by Jensen's statement about the stove/oven, and how it was “so unnecessary”. He's been overruled.)

Time stamp 4:00: Jensen is very, very shocked that the chair moves. How is he that surprised by a moving chair? Does he not live there?! With kids, stuff would move!

Time stamp 5:39: Again, implying Jensen never helps out with the kids, the diapers. Uh, Danneel, neither do you. You have nannies.

Time stamp 6:04: She says it’s “ridiculous” he’s doing a marathon? It’s for charity, Danneel! So much for being a caring, compassionate person.

Time stamp 6:39: Jensen has to go to the guest room when he comes home late at night? Does Danneel not want to greet her husband lovingly, regardless of how late it is? She prioritizes sleep over him? Ooookay.

Time stamp: 6:58: Persistently tortures Jensen with the creepy doll. She knows it bothers him, yet keeps it around and keeps torturing him with it. Yeah, cool, that’s love, folks!

Time stamp 9:04: States rather publicly that he never cleaned the bathrooms. Danneel, honey, I’m fairly certain you don’t either—you have maids.

Time stamp 9:20: Embarrasses Jensen with the “where the magic happens” statement about the master suite. Jensen asked for it to not be included. Oh look. It's included. Overruled him again. He never has his way, does he, Danneel?

Time stamp 9:46: Of course Danneel doesn’t care that Jensen doesn’t like the big window and how people might be able to look in when they’re in the bathroom. She loves the attention and loves bragging about the man she trapped in marriage, no matter how uncomfortable it makes him. So considerate.

Time stamp 11:41: Puts Jensen down by saying she’s a little bit neater than him. Then puts him down again by saying he had help on cleaning up his side. Do you ever praise your husband, woman??

Yet, she praised him here, about how he’s been pitching in with mopping, preparing FBBC. Liar, liar, pants on fire at this point.

The FBBC interview. Let's not kid ourselves. That interview was bad. The interviewer didn't really do a good job, but it revealed a lot about the dynamic between Danneel and Jensen. At one point, Danneel claimed Jensen didn’t smell good, and he tried to excuse it because he was mopping (wait, I thought he didn't do any cleaning, Danneel??). Then she was like “Oh yeah he did so...” Then she made that horrible joke about being pregnant and Jensen actually gagged. Yes, he tried to play it off as a joke, but the look on his face was not that of a man who was happy to hear his wife was pregnant again. (Not to mention, you should never make such jokes because it’s such a heavily sensitive topic. Jokes only work if everyone laughs.) All of it was meant to humiliate and put Jensen down for the work he did in making FBBC a reality. There’s also the part where they were asked if they were tired of each other. Jensen was quick to say “Yes”.

Then there's Wales Comic Con. She made up the fib about auditioning for every single Supernatural female role, claimed she tried to use knowing/being with Jensen as a way in (that's called nepotism, dear), and all of that was... a lie. Then she tried to claim credit for helping Jensen drop the Dean voice while humiliating him about it. (He actually tried to defend himself by saying that was his voice.) The whole panel was humiliation after another. I detailed it in this post.

Not to mention her saying Jensen wasn't anything like David Spade and said “no, but you'll do”. Wow. Way to put your husband down and say he’s second best (again). Good lord.

Yet, she also said this:

Either he helps or he doesn’t, Danneel. Which is it?

4. Controlling. This part. I've gotten push back on this. “She doesn't work, she stays home all the time, how could she possibly control Jensen??”

By controlling his social media, and had been for years. No doubt this is largely to keep the facade of “happily married couple”, with her making posts on his Instagram in honor of her, praising her, and so forth. It’s also a way of monitoring his interactions with others, particularly women, and to keep track of who he’s been in touch with.

Indeed, I suspect up until Danneel’s birthday post this year, any comments, posts, that praised her were all Danneel, not Jensen.

Access to one’s cellphone, email address, and other social media is almost as good as attaching a GPS onto a person. If she accessed his cloud, she can access everything from text messages he’s sent to his most recent emails to his employers.

I have some proof but it will take time to document all of them.

There’s also this post, showing the difference between Danneel and Jensen.

There are also indications, histories, of Danneel signing fan autographs that said something along the lines of “hands off bitches, he’s mine”.

Jealous much, Ms. Graul?

It doesn't come across to me as "adorable" or "mischievous". It comes across to me as an insecure woman who knows her hold is tenuous at best.

But then she has a history of being controlling and jealous everywhere. Such as here and here.

She also insisted on him going out and looking for work all the time. Even after him wanting to reconnect with the family after the end of Supernatural. He suggested a three month trip around Europe, for the family.

Her response?

Then there were the recent cons where he mentioned it again, where Danneel is pushing him to go work, work, work. He’s never allowed to be home, to be a father, to be a husband. A loving marriage? I don't think so.

To be continued in Part Two.

[blog-o-meter]

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

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

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

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

word count: 25,005

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

Part 1 | Part 2

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

Over the next few days, the tension only grew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And God help me, he wasn’t wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What did I want? What would make me happy?

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I let him.

I let him because I was angry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ll lose everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I avoided him. I avoided everyone.

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

And then there was Valerie.

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pull it together,” I whispered to myself.

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

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

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nicholas, I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate you,” I mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” my mom whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Inside Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s Explosive Breakup”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Underwear, too?” he hummed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[shifteruncensored]

the night it finally happened.

(a shifting short story from a shifter’s pov)

word count : ???

beep. beep. beep.

i wake to a loud alarm. i failed. again. i lay in my bed hoping it will swallow me whole.

why.

why not me.

i’ve been trying to shift since 2020. peak era. i have researched. looked into everything from shifttok tips to shiftblr masterlists. i even went on reddit once. i was desperate. i am desperate.

i scrolled on tiktok and tumblr for hours last night. i tried my best as usual. but for some reason, i always wake up here.

i grab my phone and look through the success stories i keep in my notes app like they are a holy grail.

“i woke up in asgard”

“i felt my s/o touch me”

it hurts i can’t lie. putting your all into something only to fail at it countless times. but by this point, i’m numb to the disappointment.

but still, i silently envy each story. each experience. why not me? why?

“it’s time for school, get ready please!!” my mom yells from downstairs.

school. great.

i get ready, moving through the steps like a zombie. shower. clothes. whatever. I just wish i was there. in my dr. with him. with my s/o.

i eventually choose to wear a plain white shirt and some jeans. what can i say? i like the simple things.

i get to school. i would be lying if i said i’m happy to be here. why would i want to be in math when i could be riding tha-

i stop myself. relax. relax.

morning classes drag by. it’s finally my favorite period. lunch.

i get lunch and sit at a table in the corner with a few of my friends. one complains about her long distance bf.

“we live like 500 hours away!!” she whines as i take a bite of my sandwich.

“try another reality for distance.” i think to myself. god i miss him. it’s weird. i haven’t even met him yet. but i feel so connected to him.

school drags on for what feels like hours.

by the time i get out, i look like a mess. but i don’t mind it and walk home as usual.

as i walk i think,

what am i missing?

what am i doing wrong?

is there a key to shift?

is it real?

it’s been years since i started my journey and i still have tons of questions.

tons of doubt.

i decide that i’ll try again tonight. one more try.

one more.

i get home. my mom looks exhausted. but beautiful. she always looks beautiful. i check in on her and tell her i love her before rushing upstairs to do my homework.

i want to get everything done so i’m less stressed for when i try to shift tonight.

“when i do shift” i mentally correct myself. fake it till you make it right?

i finish as much of my homework as i can then eat dinner with mom an hour later. her boss apparently doubled her hours.

“i hate that guy.” i think to myself. he works my mom to the bone.

to take a bit off her plate, i clear the table after dinner then do the dishes.

my mom’s already passed out in her room by the time i finish. i kiss her forehead and put a blanket over her. i don’t know why but in that moment i think about permashifting.

the thought passes my mind as quickly as it came.

“focus on shifting to your dr first.” i mutter to myself.

i get into bed after doing my nightly routine. i decide to watch harry potter and the chamber of secrets. it comforts me.

i watch in awe. this is where i feel i need to be. what my heart longs for. shifting gave me a way to fulfill that longing. i’m grateful.

but after all this time, i can’t help but wonder if this is what my purpose in life is.

“am i just wasting my time?” that thought races through my mind. i try to ignore it. it scares me.

by the time the movie ends, it’s dark. the moon shines into my room.

i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t nervous.

i open my phone to look for a shifting method on tumblr or tiktok but stop myself.

“not tonight,” i think to myself “tonight i’m going to do what i want.”

i turn on a shifting subliminal and lay down. my heart thumps so hard i think it might burst out of my chest.

i decide to just affirm and visualize. i think of hogwarts. of my s/o. of everything i can.

i remember a tip i read the other day about using my 5 sense and try it.

i imagine where i want to wake up. with my s/o. i think of what he looks like. the scent of him. the feeling of his lips on mine….

i drift off to sleep after a bit.

I wake to feel a light hitting my face. sunlight?

“failed again.” i think to myself but then. then i feel it. a pair of hands on my waist. softly holding me close.

i’m honestly a bit scared. what is happening?

i crack my eyes open for just a peek, looking over my shoulder. there he is in the flesh. sleeping peacefully. my s/o.

i tear up as i stare at him, his chest falling up and down slightly.

he looks even more angelic in person. my glossy eyes analyze every part of his face.

that’s when it really hits me.

i did it. i really did it. i shifted.

authors note: hi everyone. i’m karma and this was my first time posting a short story to tumblr. if there is any typos, please ignore them…..hopefully you all liked this story.

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered if I Could Come Home? (Astarion x Pregnant F! Reader) MDNI 18+ Part 2

CW: Smut, insecurities, pregnancy sex, PIV

Tag-list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @starstruck-mj-writings @divineknightmare

Part 1 is on my Masterlist :)

This is unedited because I’m tired 😂💜

Photo belongs to @cheekylittlepupp on Tumblr

“These are all truly terrible options, Darling,” Astarion whispers into your ear, “I feel like putting anyone in this should be considered abuse.”

You try and fail to suppress the laughter- covering your mouth with your hand when another woman shoots you a glare. You should regret dragging Astarion in here, but you don’t. He’s right- this place has absolutely nothing adorable and you hate shopping here. You are very happy he shares the same sentiment.

This was an unplanned stop in the grand scheme of the evening. Astarion had insisted on taking you on a date the moment you woke up this morning. When you went to protest and say, “I look like a beached whale, no”- you were thoroughly kicked by Eowyn.

You picked the name Eowyn together a little over a month after Astarion first arrived. It’s almost month 7 now and although Astarion missed out for a few months- your daughter and him are already peas in a pod.

You disagree with Astarion? Kick. If you pick a book that doesn’t interest him? Kick. You get hormonal, angry, and Astarion sounds even slightly sad? You bet you are gonna be running to the bathroom to throw up. She’s a spiteful fucking kid and you cannot catch a break. You are the one carrying her and yet!

You suppose you can’t blame her though. You don’t want to give him any reason to leave anymore than she does. You know Astarion won’t leave again, but that worry is also silently there.

“Darling,” Astarion whispers, “come look at this atrocity.”

Astarion scrunches up his nose and picks up one of the other baby outfits. He looks at you with a “really?” and shows you a piece of fabric fashioned into a onesie with “Selune Loves Me”. You don’t even bother to suppress your snort of laughter.

“I have a horrible feeling that Shadowheart will be buying that for Eowyn,” you sigh.

“Oh no- not if I can help it!” Astarion puts the onesie back (he even folds it), “our kid is going to be a raging atheist and I will have it no other way!”

“And if she decides to be a cleric or a paladin?”

Astarion grumbles a “well that’s different” under his breath. He opens the door for you and bows dramatically as you walk through it. Astarion’s smile is brighter than the sun when you giggle.

“I’m glad you are willing to support all possible life paths, Star,” you tease.

“I will eventually convince her to change her mind,” he muses, “we’ll begin putting swords and instruments in front of her and hope she turns out better than Volo.”

You huff at him and roll your eyes. He intertwined his fingers with yours and you continued the rest of your date.

***************************

You are laying in your bed- remaining absolutely still. Astarion seems like he is still sleeping?

Whatever sick fuck keeps adding spice into your life, has gifted you an incredibley real sex dream with Astarion. Again.

You told yourself you were going to behave- certainly not because you want to. It’s out of respect for Astarion and his boundaries. You don’t know what he’s been up to or if he would even want to while you look like this.

Oh wonderful- tears.

The hardest part of this whole pregnancy nonsense is that you don’t feel good about yourself or how you look. You didn’t necessarily have the best self esteem to start with, but your body changing in front of you almost every day wasn’t helping. You know your hips have gotten slightly wider and your breasts have gotten bigger. You try to be active as much as possible so you feel some control and you eat as healthy as you possibly can without lacking nutrients, but none of it felt like enough. You feel disgusting.

Your silent tears fall down your cheeks as you suppress your pitiful sniffling. If you close your eyes, you’ll eventually fall asleep. That’s what you usually do and that’s what you did when Astarion was gone. Sleep heals everything.

Maybe your body has finally had enough of pushing all of the discomfort back. All those feelings of being unwanted, unloved, and not like yourself are ripping you apart at the seams as they rush to your eyes.

You begin to move away from Astarion- deciding it would be better for you to sit in your little rocking chair and read for a bit. There is no reason to make yourself upset over something you can’t change. Your pregnancy will be over soon enough anyhow.

“Darling?”

Astarion’s voice pierces the silence and his fingers are clinging to your shirt as if to keep you there.

You clear your throat, “yes my Star?”

“Where are you going?”

Astarion sounds incredibly worried. It’s been hard for him to see you when you are sick or when you are obviously picking yourself apart in the mirror. Astarion is constantly worrying about your vertigo and you walking around without him or Shadowheart to catch you.

You told him that his worry isn’t necessary and that you would let him know if you were feeling dizzy or like you were going to pass out. You don’t want to bring harm to yourself or your child.

“I know you know your body, Darling,” Astarion says with his shoulders slumped and a slight frown on his lips, “I have no right to tell you what you can or cannot do, but please, my Love. I just found you again. I can’t even fathom the idea of-“

Astarion had broken down sobbing, then you began to cry, and then Eowyn was kicking so you caved and promised to let him know if you were leaving the room.

You roll over to look at him and his eyebrows raise in alarm. You hastily run the tears away and smile.

“I was just going to sit on the rocking chair.”

Astarion just squints at you and you avoid his gaze- looking up out the window.

“The moon is very pret-“

“Tav, why were you crying?”

Dammit. It’s the “I’m serious” Astarion voice.

“Oh uh,” you chuckle awkwardly, “I just had an interesting dream and it led to interesting thoughts- then TADA pregnancy hormones.”

Astarion flashes you a teasing smile before ghosting his lips over yours.

“Oh I am very aware of these ‘interesting’ dreams of yours, Darling. I’ve been waiting for you to finally ask me to re-enact a few.”

Your heart stops momentarily and you blink a couple times. There is no way you heard that correctly. You begin to tear up and Astarion’s brows furrow in concern.

“You don’t want that,” you say in a low voice, a stray tear rolls down your cheek, “I look disgusting.”

His lips are on yours in an instance- a whimper leaves your lips as you feel a warm stirring between your legs. It’s almost embarrassing how desperately your body wants him- craves him. Being kissed like this by him again is a blessing.

“I wish you would stop trying to guess what I want when it comes to you,” he sighs against your lips, “and I wish you could see how beautiful you are- all the time.”

“My body has just changed so much- to me anyway,” you whisper, “I worry that I’m not attractive to you anymore.”

Astarion grabs your hand with his and guides you down to the front of his underwear- opening your hand so that you palm against his erection. You blush furiously when he forces your eyes to meet his with his other hand. His pupils are blown wide with lust.

“Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you anymore?”

“No,” you whisper shyly.

“I want you desperately,” he places a chaste kiss on your lips, “As I always have.”

You feel embarrassed by the sigh of relief that leaves your mouth upon his confession. You want to be with him this way so badly it hurts. You hesitantly wrap your leg around his hip and you pull him in for a kiss.

Astarion’s lips are soft against yours. You keep a slow pace- unsure of how far he would be willing to go.

You find out pretty quickly when you feel his hands find your underwear- tearing away the fabric completely. You pout against his lips playfully.

“I liked those.”

“I’ll buy you a thousand more pairs, my Love.”

“But-“

The breath leaves your body when you feel his fingers begin to play with your clit. Astarion roughly presses the pads of his fingers against your clit- the additional friction making you keen in pleasure.

Astarion starts to pull away and your hands find purchase in his hair- pulling him back to you. Your desperation spurs him on and your lips are crashing against each other at a fast pace.

You feel him pull you back by your hair, making you look at him- you open your mouth to protest, but then you feel one of his fingers slide into you. Astarion pushes himself all the way into you with his finger until his palm is teasing your already sensitive clit. He must realize how ready you are for him because he enters a second finger and then a third shortly after.

The feeling of his fingers inside of you are intoxicating and the way he is looking at you is even more so. Your moans are on display for him to see- Astarion’s hand in your hair has yet to loosen as he finger fucks you relentlessly.

“So good, so perfect,” he says, “and I’m the only one who will ever have the pleasure of breeding you.”

Astarion’s words rip something inside of you open- you begin to clench around his fingers hard as your climax sinks into your body. His name falls from your lips like a prayer.

It probably is- if you are being entirely honest to yourself. Astarion looks ethereal under the moonlight that floods the room. His curls are mussed up a bit from sleep, his lips turned upward and slightly parted as he watched you be overtaken with pleasure.

Astarion leaves a chaste kiss on your lips and moves your hair out of your face. He sits up and pulls you onto his lap and traces the veins in your neck down to your collarbones. His hands meet in the middle to unlace your shirt all while making eye contact the entire time.

“Gods,” Astarion whispers as he kisses down your chest, “you are exquisite, my Love.”

You must have forgotten what it was like to be under Astarion’s lustful hands and loving gaze. Your dreams were nowhere like this.

You whine at the skin contact and you feel yourself clench around nothing. The feeling of his cold fingers running along your skin- how they tease and pinch your sensitive nipples. Astarion’s word of praise alone are enough to get you off.

“So needy.”

Astarion takes one of your sensitive nubs into his mouth- sucking and grazing it with his fangs. His other hand begins to trail downward as grinds his erection up into your unclothed, soaking folds.

“Have you missed me, Darling?” Astarion coos, “has no one else been able to make you feel this way since I’ve been gone?”

You know exactly what he is asking.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, “because my hands are nowhere as skilled as yours.”

Astarion’s laughter fills the air and your body with joy. His hand moves to release his erection from his underwear. You gasp at the sight and your hand immediately goes downwards- you feel him growl against your breast when you swipe your finger through some of his precum.

You look down and his eyes are on yours as you put your finger between your lips, licking it clean.

Astarion moves his attention from your breasts- pulling you by your hair down to his mouth so he can taste himself on you. The other hand lines him up with your entrance before pulling you down by your hips at the same time he thrusts upward.

You see stars as Astarion grazes that perfect spot inside of you. His hands had untangled from your hair a while ago, both of his hands guiding your hips down so that you continue to take his full length.

“Astar- I’m going to- fuck,” you cry out as his fingers find your clit again.

“You are going to what, my Dear? I’m afraid I didn’t catch that,” he says teasingly, his thrusts getting sloppier as you clench harder and harder.

“I- I,” your eyes roll in the back of your head as you pitch forward, putting your face in the crook of his neck. Your moans reverberate through the room- your voice is almost guttural from the intense amount of pleasure you are experiencing.

Astarion’s orgasm followed yours quickly- his moans coming out ragged and incoherent as he fills you to the brim with his seed.

You kiss his cheek, along his cheek bone, and then back until you are in the crook of his neck again.

“You are the most incredible woman I have ever had the privilege to lay eyes on,” Astarion says fondly, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Star,” your blissfully fucked body relaxes against his.

You don’t remember when you began to fall asleep or when Astarion repositioned you so that you were spooning. The only thing you can recall is Astarion kissing your shoulder, neck, and behind your ear while whispering his gratitude and love for you into your skin.

[venmondiese]

New Year's Traditions.

In New Year, you have your traditions in order to assure a good year. You eat 12 grapes, and then watch the fireworks with your loved ones. Aemond might start his own traditions, in his own way.

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, AFAB reader, P in V, exhibisionsm, praising kink, slight breeding kink, soft sex. ✧Word Count: 4008 ✧Author's note: hehe my first tumblr fanfic post lol, I KNOW that new year passed, but this idea came to me at 2 am after seeing the fireworks. enjoy!! ✧AO3 link: here

Aemond and you have shared many moments together. Birthdays, anniversaries, and one of your favourites was new year

It was a silly reason, to celebrate another day marked as the beginning of a new year, yet you liked how it meant a simple thing; starting a new year of your life with Aemond. And you liked that.

As Aemond hated going to his family’s mansion for these holidays, you remained in your apartment, cosy as ever and only you two. You, Aemond and Vhagar, is an old grumpy lady cat, that he adored more than everything, more than even you, you suspect sometimes. 

And you didn’t even do such a produced food this year, you ate some pretty good lasagna, with a second dish with shrimps and salad. It was nice, and it certainly was more like a fancy dinner between you two. Aemond loved to spoil you in any way he could, so every whim or idea you could have, he would make it reality. 

“Eating grapes is so stupid” Aemond says, as you pick out the grapes to leave it on a grape carefully.

“Stupid or not, I like grapes”  You state leaving the plate on the table in front of the TV. “And you are gonna eat them as well” 

“I am not” Aemond states, crossing his arms as he smirks. He was so amused by seeing you like this, worried about stupid little traditions that made no sense.

“Yes, you are. You have to eat one each time that stupid clock that you bought chimes” you say pointing at the stupid clock that he brought one day, out of nowhere, saying it was a relic from old Valyria, with little dragons details on the wood, a stupid grandfather’s clock that stood at the side of the couch, that chimes in each hour. 

At first, at night it kept you awake, and the sound was so deep, you jumped each time. So did Vhagar, annoyed by being awakened. Even at sex, when Aemond was so deep, readjusting your guts in the best of ways, his cock hitting so wonderfully inside you, and his sweet praises whispered in your ear… and the stupid clock chimes. You hated it.

“If you miss it, and do not get to eat all twelve on time, you’d have a year of bad luck” You state, wrinkling your nose teasingly. “And you can make a wish for each month”

“If it makes you happy…” He sighs, sitting on the couch, where Vhagar jumps quickly on his lap to lay there, always before you could cuddle up to him. She did it on purpose, and Aemond allowed his two girls, as he called you both, to fight over him and his attention and affections. 

“Come on, I always have done it. It is a tradition.” You say with a thoughtful nod, as you sit beside him. “And see where it ended… I am your girlfriend, and we have been together for two years now… You don’t want this one to be the last?” You ask dramatically, and he rolls his eyes as he leans his head back, but he chuckles amused.

“I have until midnight to think” He mumbles amused, moving his hand to caress your thigh sweetly. 

He has chosen the dress. He didn’t believe in the new year being something special, but if it was an opportunity to make you dress nicely, he’d take it in a heartbeat. He had his own taste when it came to your clothes, Aemond liked seeing you in special, tight dresses that made you stand out wherever you went. To brag that you were his, and he always took the time to braid your hair in the style of his ancestors, and he was meticulous about it. 

“Then you have until midnight to leave the apartment” You say in your best teasing tone, smiling smugly to him and his lips almost make a little pout.

“Don’t be like that” He says rubbing your thigh as he moves his head closer to you, still leaning on the back of the couch “At least you could grant me a goodbye sex?” He tries to plead using his best puppy eyes for teasing.

“Absolutely no” You state laughing at your little back and forth. 

Aemond was often perceived as quiet and a bit cold, at least you did the first time you met him. Little words came naturally from him, his answers were brief words and that was it. But he grew warmer as you two grew together, and he enjoyed teasing a bit too much, it amused him to no end. He just loved your reactions, and how you fought back, it was all worth it. 

He loved how you had a enmity with Vhagar, seeing who could get more affection from him, and who would he choose, sometimes he chose the cat on purpose just to get a raise out of you. He’d laugh every time, and make it up to you by eating you out like he was a starved man.

“I’ll eat the damn grapes” He mumbles smirking. “I feel like Persephone being forced to eat the pomegranate..”

“I am no Hades” You say mumbling.

“Mhm. I suppose if I eat only six of them I could live freely in the spring and summer without you?” He teases, totally amused.

“Careful. Too many jokes of leaving can break a girl’s heart” 

“I’d never break your heart” He mumbles going to hiss your chin and then your lips, almost too lazily for him. He does it gently, showing him the little pecks of his affection in your chin and lips. Aemond looks at you tenderly, as he speaks softly. You can hear the sound of the programmated count back for new year on the tv, but you look at him kissing you. “I’ll eat the grapes for you”

“Like Adam ate the apple for Eve?” You inquire, amused.

“Yes. I’ll follow you out of Eden once they expel us” He murmurs smiling, still his face close to yours, you could feel his soft breath, calm and it smells like the wine you two tasted earlier. His hand returns to rub your thigh softly, as he looks at your face as if wanting to remember each part of it, his eye moving to your tender eyes to your lips, and he has a little smile curling on his lips, involuntary, you can notice. 

“I’ll fetch the champagne” You murmur, breaking his gaze, standing up and walking to the kitchen. He hums, and sits back correctly. 

Once you are back, with two glasses and the bottle, he is caressing Vhagar’s back and moving his hand to pat slightly her bottom, which she appreciates a lot. 

“Stop spanking that ugly cat” You grumble leaving the two cups on the table in front of him.

“Jealous?” 

“No” You say looking at the hour. 23:57. Close enough. “Are you sure that we could see the fireworks through the balcony?”

“Yes. Mother said the apartment had a nice view to the Blackwater bay just nicely. We’ll watch all the fireworks from the safety and comfort of our balcony.” 

You hum, nodding a bit. “I love fireworks” You say excitedly, and Vhagar meow. “Vhagar likes them too”

“Vhagar can barely see” Aemond says in a laugh, “I’d be surprised if actually makes it to the balcony”

“You are being mean” You giggle caressing Vhagar’s furr, which she appreciates but gives you a stern look. 

“Give me a kiss before the year ends” Aemond urges looking at the clock, 23:58.

“I thought you didn’t believed in-” 

“Shut up and kiss me” He repeats, and before you respond, he leans to kiss you, moving you closer to him. Vhagar grumbles and gets off his lap, but Aemond doesn’t even notice. 

He kisses you deeply, moving his lips against your just for a bit, just enjoying the simpleness of a kiss. He doesn’t press it further, and his lips are tender against yours, soft and gentle, when he wants. His hand presses on your chin, and he swallows the slow hum that you give him. He smiles in the kiss, knowing that it couldn’t take all minutes, even if he wanted. Because you had your silly traditions, and if they made you happy…

“See? With one minute left” He says smugly. 

“How considerate is my boyfriend” You say standing up to extend him his bowl of grapes. “One each-”

“Yes” He says, groaning as he stands up. He smiles as he sees you so excited for this silly thing, eating grapes for a new year. He looks at his bowl and he has an amused smile, the things he does for love… 

As the new year strikes, the awful clock sounds for a bit, and he leans to steal a kiss from you. “Happy new year” He mumbles. 

“Happy new year” You murmur as you kiss.

After the chimes. He does as requested, just for you. He eats the grapes as the clock strikes twelve times at midnight. He has to laugh at your commitment, as the sound of people in other apartments can be heard, and you look at him smiling as you eat the twelve grapes. He does it for you, no doubt in it, just to see you smile as he eats the grapes. What he wouldn’t do for you, after all?

“See?” You say now, grapes finished just in time, and he rolls his eyes amused as he grabs Vhagar from the ground to caress her chin. You go to hug him, and mumble “Happy new year”

Vhagar meows, and Aemond laughs “See? She says happy new year too” 

“That is so silly” You say with a giggle, and you lean to kiss him sweetly, more properly this time, as you hug him. He has one hand on the small of your back, while the other still holds Vhagar. 

A little family of three, you always say, proud of being with him. He was always equally proud of you, always pampering you with love and gifts, no matter how tired he could be each day, he always came to be with you and be the doting boyfriend he always is.

“Now, shall we see the fireworks you were so eager for, hm?” He asks, smirking as your faces are close. “My sweet girl” He says softly, his adoring gaze looking at her.

You smile, and your cheeks blush a bit. He never manages to miss the chance to make you all flustered for him.

“Yeah, let’s go” You say, giving him a sweet peck on the lips, as he leaves Vhagar on the couch. 

You slide the door open for the balcony, and you can hear the loud cheers from people around, you have a nice view to Blackwater Bay, a bit far enough to see the fireworks from a nice view, and everything is already dark so the main focus was the fireworks.

Aemond lays on the balcony by your side, looking at the ground for a bit, and smirking. “I think they are about to start, do you have one of your silly traditions for fireworks too?”

“Oh, fuck off” You say pushing him a bit, and he laughs.

“It’s chilly” He comments a bit, and looks over at you in your dress “I’ll bring our jackets” He says going back to the apartment, and you remain there, looking at how the people in the streets were also expecting the pyrotechnic show. 

Aemond was right, it was a bit cold. But again, he likes to dress you up in pretty dresses. He often jokes how you are his ‘perfect doll’ and how he loves to show you off in the best makeup, dresses and hairstyles. He was just proud of it, that you allowed him to. 

“Aemond, it is starting!” You say loudly so he can hurry up, since he always takes too long for everything. 

The first fireworks start, the red explosion illuminates the darkness of the city, and you look in amazement, as a more yellow one follows. People cheer, also excited for the colours, and you hear Aemond closing the sliding door of the balcony.

“Here” He says, extending the jacket to you as he pushes Vhagar inside of the apartment. 

You thank him as you quickly put on the jacket, now looking at the purple ones exploding in a soft motion. 

“Don’t you think it is pretty?” You say to Aemond “The purple ones are better, but they don’t illuminate as good as the– Oh” 

Aemond passes his arms over your waist, hugging you from behind, and his chin is quickly pressed against your left shoulder as he snuggles into you.

“Very pretty” He murmurs.

“I mean the view” You say embarrassed. 

“Not as pretty as you” He adds smiling. 

He leans to kiss your lips, and you chuckle in his lips, as you hear more explosions from the fireworks go off, and you just know what comes next. Aemond wasn’t really subtle when he wanted you; when he wanted to devour you wholly, and now it wasn’t the exception. He did it on purpose, so you always know how much you entice him.

“Aemond, the fireworks..” You whine as he keeps insisting on kissing you. “It is only one time a year-”

“I know” He says, resigning and leaving you alone, as you leave a small kiss on his cheek as a thank you. 

The light blue explosions were quite nice, and combined with the purple ones did a pretty sight. Some minutes pass as you feel Aemond starting to kiss you neck again, slowly, but with more intention now, he wanted you and he was letting you know.

“Love-��� You get interrupted by him.

“Watch your fireworks” He instructs you, moving his hands to your thighs, and he is quick to move them up as he speaks slowly to you. He moves his body a bit back, to watch yours as he does whatever he wants with you. “I’ll do my thing here…”

“We can surely do it once the show is over”

“I am afraid I cannot bear any longer. You eat grapes to celebrate a new turn in the sun, and I might start a new tradition for the new year.” He tells you, and moves your head to watch the fireworks. 

He moves his hands up, so your dress is all the way up, and accumulating in your waist, as he hums in delight. He moves your jacket to rest in your waist, anytime it could fall again. It was quick, but Aemond wanted you like he never did before.

“Anyone could see us” You say, the red firework exploding and you see the people in the street, below and so unaware of this. 

“Then let them see my pretty girl celebrating a new year” He murmurs, not caring about that. “Mmm… Red underwear. Is that another sweet tradition of yours? I think that one I might like” He teases kissing your shoulder as he pulls your underwear off. 

You feel aroused, from his sweet words and slightly more because of the embarrassment of this. Being fucked in your balcony, as the fireworks exploded in front of you, and the people around celebrated another year. As always, Aemond had to do everything in his own way, celebrating in his own way.

Hearing him undo his belt does it for you, the arousal makes your belly flutter, and you try to look back at him, but each time he pushes your head forward; watch the fireworks, it is his order.

Your hands grip a bit on the balcony railing, as you lean a bit forward, as if presenting you to him. His hands quickly go to your hips, and he leans closer to press a kiss on your neck, soft, wet kisses making their way to your jaw. 

“You are so divine like this, my sweet loving girl” He praises you slightly, his hands rubbing in circles on your hips for a few moments, you can feel his cock pressed on the curvature of your ass, and you whimper a bit impatient now. “So pretty, fuck, and all mine”

The mere thought of that drives him insane. His hand moves upfront, and he quickly finds his way to your pussy, aching and longing for him. You moan impatiently as you push your own throbbing core to his hand and fingers, and he chuckles a bit, without breath as the mere action aroused him to no end. 

“I’ll make you really wet and nice for me” He tells you, always so eloquent at the time of having sex. “You know my goals for this year? Make you my sweet wife…” He admits, moving his hand to your lower abdomen, pushing the dress to be a bit higher on your waist. He presses his hand there, his palm giving your cold body some heat. His fingers find your clit, and press against it so softly, giving you just the right stimulation to make you moan “And I’ll give you my baby, so your belly swells so full and nicely. Yeah, I’ll make you a mother… And then again, and again…” He starts rambling off a bit, his own lust talks for him, and you have to moan at these words. 

The mere thought of it makes your pussy clench in need, and you have to bite your lower lip because of it. Your head cannot properly focus on the pyrotechnic show ahead, but only in his words. You shoulder tense, and your head falls a bit as the lust is too much. You want, you need him inside. 

“Yeah, please, please…” You whine for him, wanting to get the clue and just fuck you, right there. 

“Let’s see, are you properly wet?” He says in his best smugly tone, and you know that tone. He wants to tease you.

Even if you cannot see him, the wet sounds give him away. He is fisting himself, at the sight of you, leaned in the balcony railing all at his mercy as the lights of the fireworks illuminate your figure, and while he inspects you, his fingers around your entrance to check how really wet you are. He takes the note, that if he wants to fuck you along with the pyrotechnic show, the moment was now.

He moves your legs to be apart, cursing in a low tone, as he takes your hips to accommodate you at his taste, and you have to shush your own moan once you feel the tip of his cock moving between your legs, all the way to your entrance. 

He pushes in, firmly and decided, yet still slow at first, as he always did. You assume that he takes his time, wanting to feel you opening at his length and he always groans lowly as if it was the best thing ever. 

You whimper, his cock as always moving inch by inch, slowly as if he wanted your walls to remember his shape, his hardness, every vein and how he throbs for you. 

“First time of the year, huh?” He cannot help but tease a bit, as his forehead was resting against your shoulder, and he looked how the sight of his cock disappeared as he pushed all the way in, and your ass against his crotch never fails to make him moan.  “Fuck..” 

With one arm wrapped around your waist, he moves the other one to caress your hip, as you moan impatiently for him to move.

“Focus on the fireworks” He insists, his tone shaky, and you both know that no one here cares for the damn fireworks right now.

He starts thrusting, slow at first, making you close your eyes in delight, and your breath is catching midway in your throat from how good it feels. He as well feels in pure delight, you always took him so well, you always were so tight that it made him fantasise about you always. 

“Just like that, baby” He says, increasing his thrusts, moving your hips to meet his pounding, and you start mewling, and it only seems to encourage him to move faster. His other hand finds the way to your hair, grabbing it to make your head look forward. “You wanted so badly to watch it, and now you don’t even care? Tsk, tsk…” 

You can hear the amusement of his tone, how he loves being the responsible of this, of making you melt under his touch, and thanks to his cock.

Entering you over and over, was probably the best way to start the year, and he marks this tradition as his own now, seeing the fireworks as he fuck you against the balcony railing. The idea pushes him into arousal even further, his forehead leaning on your shoulder again, and it makes so easy to hear his lascive sounds, his soft grunts as he keeps pushing your body to meet his, and wanting to make a mess out of you.

“Fuck!” There, he thinks smirking to himself, so buried into you, and he pushes away without any mercy. You let another mewl, lascive and filthy, driving him insane. “Aemond, fuck…” You moan, his cock deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot, and fitting so good inside you would never keep you quiet. 

You can see from the edge of you eyes the neighbors below, also in the balcony, but they were drinking champagne and unaware of how their upstairs neighbors were fucking like animals in the middle of the firework show.

“Are you close, sweet thing?” He asks kissing and nibbling below your ear, right where your jaw started. “Are you gonna cum– Gonna soak my cock, like the good girl you are?”

“Yes” You say breathing forcefully, letting out an exhale that feels more like a sob, and you nod frantically. His hand loose from your hand, and moves down to play, once again, with your pearl. 

At that, you have to move one of your own hands to your mouth not to shout in ectasis, as he does just the right thing. His cock deep inside you, thrusting and pounding into you, precum all over your walls, you are sure, and his fingers doing circles and rubbing your clitoris in the best way possible. 

It is no one’s surprise when you cum with a choked moan, your eyes closed as Aemond feels your walls clenching around you as your orgasm hits you. You don’t even seem to notice how the show keeps going, the palmer lake fireworks right in front of you, and you are too busy soaking his cock to notice.

He doesn’t last longer either, the sight and the feeling of you cumming around him, is enough to make him bury himself deep into you, and let out a moan as he fills you, his arm wrapped around you keeping you still so you don’t move as he cums inside you.

You both are out of breath, and you are too exhausted from the orgasm that hit you.

“Look” He murmurs, and you let out a little sound, not in the mood for his teasing. “Not, really, look; your favourites, the palmer ones..” He says pointing at them.

You look at the fireworks, explode so gracefully and then fall faintly. You chuckle a bit, as he hugs you from behind, kissing your cheek adoringly and tenderly.

“I love you” You say softly.

“I love you too” He says, as he pulls out, letting you enjoy the rest of the show. 

He pulls your dress down, and makes sure your jacket can warm you after all, and you thank him. He also fixes himself, and he takes you in his arms, kissing your forehead at the last, and more prettier fireworks are in the sky.

“I think that next year, you could ride me” He teases and you have to laugh at that. 

“I’ll do” you promise, curling in his hug and watching the sky full of colours.

It seems like a great year, already. 

[voluntarysubmission]

Modern AU proposal: Charles University Ice Hockey

I wrote up a long post with all my mental justifications for this but tumblr ate it so here's the abridged version. My apologies to the real Charles University of Prague I'm sure you wouldn't let a rich brat run wild on your main hockey team. (at least I assume the best IRL but it's convenient for this concept)

[Reposted from Hansry Kingdom community cos i'm an idiot who doesn't know how communities work on tumblr lmao]

Modern Day Czech Ice Hockey AU

One day, Hans Capon shall be the majority owner and likely CEO of Leipa Hotels and Resorts. In the present day though, he's a trust-fund fuck boy who parties hard and chases girls.

Hans is somehow achieving this while scraping through enough of his business degree at Charles University to graduate, and maintaining his position as a left wing forward on the university team.

Current steward of the company, Hanush, waits for Hans to graduate before he can take over, per his late parents instructions. He simultaneously hates how unseriously Hans takes his studies, but sees his present opportunity to shape the company while Hans makes it easy to justify retaining control.

Despite Hans' indulgences and excesses, late nights and missed practices, he's never truly disciplined off the university team due to his family's contributions to the university, but he still isn't quite liked by the rest of the team due to his arrogance.

Meanwhile, Henry grows up in actual Skalice, working for his father Martin's high end automobile maintenance and repair workshop after graduating high school. He plays hockey as a defenseman mostly just for fun after finishing school but the physical work at the shop keeps him fit.

After a tragic accident that claims his parents' lives, the mysterious rich regular customer Mr Radzig Kobyla steps in and makes him an offer: He will fund Henry to move to Prague and attend tertiary education enough to be a reasonable investment option, so he can open his own car workshop like Martin's, but in in the city.

Henry, already wanting out of Skalice, takes the offer, and moves close to the university. He finds another mechanic shop to work at in the meantime, and joins the university's social team, which uses the rink at late hours for games and practice.

After being given the responsibility to resurface the ice and lock up the rink, Henry one night finds Hans and a few mates drinking in the changerooms, and attempts to kick them out to finish closing up. After a failed attempt to "do you know who I am" him, Hans and Henry get into a brawl, and are both brought in by campus security.

Hanush, collects Hans and lectures them both, and assigns them both to do some community outreach work at a small town youth hockey rink together. He tells Hans to get his shit together and act like a leader, and then informs Radzig, who tells Henry that it's a good opportunity to get used to dealing with the whims of the rich folk who will hopefully become future customers just like he was a customer of Martin's with his specialty cars.

Cue plot and shenanigans and angry fights and male bonding and eventually difficult confessions of the depths of feelings and physical relations.

Eventually, due to injuries or whatever shenanigans, Henry gets called up to play on the main university team as left defence. Hans seems to actually play better with him on the ice, and they make some impressive plays together than help snag the team a high spot for finals.

Hans keeps up his womanising and drinking, but seems a bit more emotionally detached from it, unless Henry is out there making moves with him. And even then, he seems to have more fun doing drunken shenanigans with Henry than any attention he gets from girls. They drunkenly have a weird moment where they get really close, but Hans suddenly remembers they're out with the whole team and deflects at the last moment. Henry doesn't overthink it, but is getting wary of what would rock the boat of the whole team's dynamic, who have finally been coming to like Hans a bit more and just generally synergise on ice better.

Meanwhile Henry is just trying to keep up. Radzig and Hanush both told him they'd look favourably on him keeping Hans together enough to have a good showing at the finals, and if they're very lucky, survive exams too.

During an intense playoff run, where Henry both learned from another team that Radzig may be his actual father (somehow idk) and Hans was injured in an unsafe play, it's the night before the finals, and Hans and Henry are sitting in Hans' dorm room. Hans hasn't been able to stop thinking about Henry as more than a friend, and by now Henry has gone out of his way to bail Hans out of stupid and sometimes dangerous situations again and again (plus one ridiculous moment when Henry took a dangerous hit and Hans was the one to throw gloves with the 6'5" defender).

Henry is about to go, noting they he needs sleep before the game, and Hans realises he simply doesn't want him to leave. Despite his injury, while alone, he grabs Henry and kisses him "for luck".

Anyway that's as far as I thought, really. I thought instead of a heavily Christian society creating a barrier to a homosexual relationship, the dominantly rich white conservative culture of ice hockey could work! This idea brought to you by being stuck in traffic on the way to my own damn 11pm hockey game because beer league teams never gets decent ice time.

I know modern AUs don't have to 1:1 match the original plot, but it was fun thinking of analogous situations.

Bonus thoughts on the hockey element under the cut:

Hans and Henry are both depicted as right handed in game. It isn't hard or fast, but there's a kiiind of preference towards playing left stick if you're right dominant in hockey. At least, that's true in Canada. Therefore they play left side. They could play right, but it's a smidge easier to play left when you have a left stick.

Hans is a left forward, probably second or third line. No way he's dedicated enough to be first line, no matter how rich his family is in donations, and center is a lot of skating both offensively and defensively. I think he'd just take the flashy "easier" position, and be a bit of an annoying selfish player who takes shots even when he probably should pass the puck.

Henry plays left defense. He's tall, strong, hardy, and has good wingspan. He'd probably make great checks. Idk it just felt right. I don't think you can fight much at the university level but I can imagine Hans taking some hits and Henry being like "ok destroy time :) "

Hans actually reading a situation and passing the puck back to Henry on the blue line so HE can take a higher % shot would be a nice moment of character growth.

Why hockey at all? 1. I play it and I love it. 2. you wear armour and carry weapons (sticks) and have blades (skates), it's physical and dangerous. It's also a sport with a lot of rich kids because the financial barrier to play is pretty high - a full kit of gear is really expensive!

I like the idea that Henry gets a skate sharpener installed in a backroom of the mechanics he works part time at, and Hans starts insisting that Henry has to be the one to sharpen his skates after he does it one time and scores two goals the next day.

Hockey players are also superstitious as fucking hell so Hans having weird little hangups fits right in.

Hockey players also don't shut the fuck up, either in chirping their mates and especially when chirping their opponents. Hans and Henry would both fucking love it.

Jaromir Jagr played for my NHL team for 11 years so, this is for you Jagrmeister.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 7: Romeo and Juliet - Dire Straits

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), dom/sub, touch of breeding kink, possessiveness, briefest mention of a free use kink if you squint, multiple orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, lots of dirty talk, mentions of ownership kink, nipple play, name calling, degradation, praise, sadness, heartbreak, high school breakups, unrequited love, estranged parent/strained parental relationships, angst, anger, bickering, name calling, depression, anxiety, self doubt/self consciousness, swearing, drinking, smoking, flirting, fluff, mentions of hookups/casual sex, sorry if I miss any!

so this is my second time trying to post this (thanks tumblr for deleting it completely 🫶🏻) but I just want to say, thank you to everyone who has been patiently and kindly waiting for this update, and i hope this serves as an apology. my life has kinda blown up in my face as of late and I’ve really been struggling, but im trying very hard to get back to normal. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! (Extremely lightly edited)

And a special shout-out to @gretavangroupie and @gretavanmoon for always keeping me on track, listening to my ramblings, and for the unwavering support and encouragement 🤍 melodic memories would not be what it is without you 😌

Also another special shoutout to @jakeyt. I’m eternally grateful for you and everything you do for me, and so so lucky to have you in my life 🤍

Jake’s POV

“You sure this will work?” Josh asked, looking across the cab of your dad’s car, one eyebrow raised as he awaited your answer. Swallowing back a permanent lump in your throat, the stark dryness of your tongue seemed to make your nervousness grow even stronger. The claminess of your palms and the steady thud of your heart against your chest made it seem all the more real, and as you digested his question you began to wonder that yourself.

“P-positive.” You felt the word get caught in your teeth, like even the syllables were trying their best to mock you. The whole world felt like that, making you second guess every single thought and action, like nothing was good enough. Before you stepped foot outside, before you climbed into the passenger seat with your heart in your hands and every ounce of love scrawled across your tired face, you were certain. Now, as the wheels whirred on the pavement below and the trees passed you by, you could not say that for fact. “It has to work.” You rephrased your words, feeling a bit more confident as those ones slipped past your lips.

“Okay.” Was all he said, his index finger drumming against the steering wheel. For some reason, that did not bode well with you, making the knots in your stomach tighten to the point of fraying.

“Okay?” At that, he let out a chuckle, his lips stuck in an irritating smile as he gave one singular nod of his head.

“If you’re sure, then so am I.” He reiterated his stance, peeking at you from the very corner of his eye.

“Okay, well—“ you huffed a breath, feeling a slight twang in your chest as you tried to agree with him. Suddenly, you couldn’t keep up the facade anymore, feeling the fears tumble out faster than you could stop them. “What if I’m not sure?” The pitch of your voice, high and airy, seemed to send another laugh shaking his shoulders.

“And why wouldn’t you be sure, Jake?” Josh and his aggravatingly accurate intuition, always knowing when something was wrong and knowing exactly how to pry it out of you.

“I hate you, you know.” You grumbled, your lips dipping down into a frown as you swiped your palms over your jeans. “How did you know?”

“Jesus, brother, I can feel the anxiety all the way over here. You’re not as mysterious as you think—least not to me, anyway.” He said, turning the radio down ever so slightly. “What’s got you second guessing yourself?”

“I just—fuck.” You sighed, your head falling back on the seat as you sucked a sharp breath into your lungs. “It has to work, Josh. It has to. I can’t—I won’t go back to Nashville if she… if we—“

“Alright,” he nodded, cutting off your nervous rambling so you need not suffer any more. He got it, and he didn’t need you to explain it now that he knew for sure that’s what it was about. “Well, it certainly won’t be good for you if you show up at her front door looking like that. Nervous, stuttering, sweating mess.”

“Hey,” you muttered, eyebrows furrowed at his blunt words. He flashed you a soft smile, letting you know it was only a joke.

“You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” He motioned towards you, your entire aura affecting him directly, like he could feel your racing heart and hear your inner voice. “Freak yourself out, panic, like you don’t know her better than anyone in the whole world—aside from me.” He added quickly, making sure that he was involved in the equation. “You know she’ll love it Jake, ‘cause she loves you. Even after everything, that’s still true and you know that.”

“But is it enough?” That question posed a long bout of silence between the two of you. Josh lessened the pressure of his foot on the gas pedal, slowing the car without hitting the brakes. He knew he needed more time to formulate a good answer to your question, but even as the car crawled across the main road of the suburb, he wasn’t sure any response would truly suffice.

“You never know unless you try.” He offered, knowing it did not ease any fear but hesitant about giving you false hope. You gave a solemn nod, understanding that was all he could say. “I mean, Jake, come on. This is sunshine we’re talking about. Just tell her the stuff you need to get off your chest… don’t leave anything unsaid this time. She wants this too, but she’s scared. Help her see it in a different way. She got a job, and that was her biggest concern, wasn’t it?”

“She did.” You hummed, the dryness of your mouth worsening as you saw her house appear in the distance. “I mean, all of this had to happen for a reason, right? It has to mean something more than closure, or moving on, or whatever the fuck…” you rambled, sickened at the idea of the biggest chapter of your life coming to an end. Actually, you weren’t even sure you could survive it.

“I think,” he flicked on the turn signal, slowing so he could pull into her driveway. You tried to ignore the anxious buzz in your ears, your thoughts spiraling and causing you to do the same. “That what the two of you have is a once in a lifetime experience. For that reason alone, I believe that there’s more to this story.”

For once, his ambiguity made you feel better instead of worse, because you agreed with the sentiment. For how strongly both of you felt, it couldn’t just end. There had to be something more for the two of you, together.

Only once the car was parked did he speak again, this time a bit more direct with his words.

“Do you want me to wait here?”

“No.” You shook your head, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. “I’m gonna see this one through.” You continued, knowing in your heart that you did not need a fallback. Even if things did not work in your favor, you wouldn’t be sent away. Not now, not ever. She, no matter what the two of you were, would always accept you with open arms and love you accordingly. This house, her house, would always be home, whether you were a lover, a friend, or even a stranger who knew much more than he should. So long as she lived, you knew you would have a place beside her, even if it was not what you wanted it to be. “I’m gonna get her back, Josh.”

At that, a knowing grin crossed his lips.

That was what he was waiting for.

For you to breathe in the confidence he was pushing in your direction, to listen to the tellings of your heart rather than your head, to understand that you could not let her go again, that you could not accept self destruction and misery when the resolution was within reach.

“You’re gonna get her back, Jake.” He reiterated your point, making sure you knew he felt the same way. “Now go. Don’t wait any longer.” He ushered you out of the car, his toothy smile making you feel like the world was right again.

Looking at him now, about to accomplish your life’s purpose, you finally understood that the reason you put so much faith in Josh boiled down to one, very simple fact: the world had been burning, six whole years spent in the barren pits of hell without a breath of relief in sight, and not for one single second did he ever think of leaving your side. At your lowest of lows, feeling the heartbreak with you and suffering alongside you, he never felt an inkling to ignore it or to give up on you. He tackled every one of your tears and self-doubts with determination, making sure you knew that being alone wasn’t even an option and that all of your fears were misguided. He listened to the same rants and complaints a million times over and never found himself sick of it. Right now, after knowing all of the suffrage and the role he had within it, he was sending you straight into her arms even knowing what the outcome might be and how it would affect him.

He wanted you to be happy, and he would stop at nothing to see it.

The whole world had been burning until that fateful day in Italy, and he held your hand the entire time, opting to burn with you instead of watching you burn alone. Relief did not only touch you when you received that message, but him too.

If Josh, out of everyone in the entire world, believed that the two of you should be together, you owed it to him to try, to show him that his efforts have never gone unnoticed or unappreciated even if by times it seemed so.

“I love you.” You said, fingers clasped around the door handle as you prepared to step outside. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” He replied, his eyes scanning the car to make sure you had everything you needed, always taking care of you without even realizing he was doing it. “I’ll see you at home.” You gave one curt nod, reiterating the statement wordlessly. “You’ve got this, Jake. You’ve been waiting for this for years. We’ve been waiting for this.”

That seemed to be all you needed, and with a smile on your face, you finally stepped out into the warm summer air, a rush of confidence fuelling you as you gave him one last look over your shoulder. Swallowing your fears (and your pride, as it seemed), you straightened the hem of your shirt against your chest, making sure the collar was flipped the right way before advancing any further. Running one hand through your hair, you took the first step towards the front porch, fully expecting lead to weigh you down yet pleasantly surprised at the airiness of your limbs.

This was the right thing to do.

You were making the right decision.

Of course you were; there was no other choice. At the end of the line, she was the only thing that mattered.

Feeling both of your feet firmly stand on the first rickety wooden step, you thought the anxiety might return, but the closer you got to the door, the better you felt. The closer to her, the brighter it seemed.

Your malaise had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with missing her. Knowing that she was nearby, that you would be able to see the sweet smile and the sparkling eyes that turned your entire world upside down, was enough to make any bad feelings or negative thoughts flee you completely. She was home to you, and no matter how much time or hurt stood between you, that would never change.

With each creaking stair, you felt the nervous energy quickly turn to excitement, and as you raised your hand to knock on her front door, it felt like the sun began to shine down upon your face, warming your soul in the sweetest and most precious way.

But, the sun had always been shining, especially on the particularly warm summer day, even if it would soon set in the sky. Not a cloud in sight to cover it, and not even a flicker in its intensity.

As you knocked a second time, you could feel the light flood your veins, bright white and searing hot, begging to burst straight from your skin and bleed you dry.

This light, this warmth, never had a thing to do with the burnt up old star in the sky, and you believed that more than ever, especially when the door swung open and you were graced with the sight of her beautiful, breathtaking face.

Her POV

“Ozz, please.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration, grumbling and groaning as the cat puttered in front of your feet and tripped you for the second time since you stood. Although, you couldn’t be too upset at him, considering he was the only reason you knew there was someone at the front door. If not for his chirping and flattened ears, you would have disregarded the knock completely, bundled up on the couch as you watched reruns of your favorite television show. Feeling guilty for scolding him in such a tone, you gave a sad smile and reached down, scooping him straight into your arms as you carried him to the door.

Seemingly content with the new position, he melted into your chest as you kicked aside shoes lingering by the front door. You had gotten back from your faculty meeting a few hours prior, finding yourself excited and counting down the minutes until Monday morning, finally feeling right and ready to start your life. Tired from your first early morning in a long time (and from the long drive to and from), you started apartment hunting as soon as you got home, unwilling to make the hour trek both ways for any longer than necessary. Mel, who had scored an interview at an elementary school not far from the university, decided to take the afternoon and explore the town after a promising afternoon.

Knowing she wouldn’t be back until late (if at all, knowing her and her inkling to make friends or lovers anywhere), you ordered takeout to be delivered at your door and prepared for an evening to yourself. Your mother and your little sister had left shortly after you got home, giving you the rundown on their plans while you only half listened. When your father left, your mother had taken it upon herself to ensure that once a month, she would spend an entire evening with each of you on your lonesome, and at least one night with all three of you, doing something fun and carefree. It was her way of ensuring you two always knew how much she loved you, and that no matter how life was, she would always make time for you. Sometimes, it was just a movie, or ice cream, but other times, when money wasn’t as tight, it was a spa day or a day trip to the mall.

In the very beginning, you didn’t know it, but it was a way to distract her and the two of you from the emptiness of the home. It gave all of you something to look forward to, and it reminded you and your sister of all the love that continued to surround you.

Back then, you loved it. Now, you had a whole new appreciation for it knowing the truth behind it.

Once you went to university, obviously it became a little harder to maintain, so when you were home, she jumped at the chance to have that time with you again. It was different, but still just as important, and even more beautiful to see the tradition carry on.

So with the house all to yourself for the first time in a long time, you were soaking up the vacant space and lack of noise, enjoying as much of it as you could before the (welcome) chaos made a return.

Until the knock on the door, which left you where you were now: a cat clutched tightly to your chest, the evening sun shining through the blinds on the door before it sank in the sky, and a growing curiosity about who could be on the other side.

When you twisted the knob, the brightness from outside immediately took you by surprise. Once your eyes focused on the body before you, an ethereal light behind him framing him as even more angelic as usual, your heart sped and your stomach churned. It was not his presence that caused such a sudden reaction, even though he usually had such effects on you, but rather the items in his hand, held closely to his chest. Sunglasses sat low on his nose, his long brown hair honey-like as the sun illuminated it. His warm chestnut eyes spoke straight to your soul without him needing to say a word, and his half-smile sent a shiver straight down your spine.

“Hi, sunshine.” His voice, smooth like silk with a slight rasp of smoke, felt like a punch’s straight to the stomach.

The last time you had seen him, emotion hung heavy over your heads and your hearts splayed so carefully on your sleeve, you felt like you had left a million things unsaid, things you weren’t sure you would ever be able to air out. The title you had placed upon yourselves had left you wanting more, even if it did serve a little comfort when it changed from friends, and the risqué picture he sent over text after he was dropped off at the hotel was still seared into the front of your mind. Though a few texts had been sent and received between now and then, you still felt like the two of you had been caught in a stalemate, damned if you reached out and damned if you did not.

For the first time since the night on the roof, you finally let yourself feel how much you were missing him, how bleak and lonely life was without his company, whether it be in person or over the phone. For a brief second, you wanted to collapse into his arms, unable to control yourself or ignore the need to be held by him. Giving your head a slight shake, you understood that was not the best way to greet him, especially considering his hands were full, and so were yours.

Well, occupied, at least.

Ozz, who had been completely content with being held by you moments before, was now completely beside himself as he tried to push himself free from your grasp. He was chirping and meowing like crazy, desperate to be noticed by you even if your attention was caught by something else. Finally back to earth, you looked down at the furry companion, noticing his intent was not to be put down on the floor, but rather to greet Jake with all of the love you were withholding from him.

As you watched him lean towards the boy at the door, you felt a rush of emotion flood you, your eyes flickering between Jake and Ozz, finding the situation more telling than anything else.

“He never greets me like that.” You whispered to yourself, stepping forward as Jake did the same, always willing to meet you in the middle.

“He seems more excited to see me than you are.” Jake joked, raising his free hand to pet the cat, showing Ozz he was just as happy to see him.

“Not true.” You dismissed the idea. “I am excited to see you—just surprised.” Not at his presence, but the curious items he held in his hand and the overwhelming response of your cat to his company. And, although he was always welcome at your house, his showing up without any prior warning was very out of character, even for the version of Jake you loved so long ago.

“Can I come in?” One step inside already, he figured it would be best to ask permission to come any further despite the fact he knew he did not need it.

“Of course you can.” You nearly scoffed the reply, astounded by the fact he even felt the need to ask.

“How was your first day?” He asked, gently kicking the door shut behind him as you stepped backwards to allow him inside. Your eyes still fixated on his hands, you couldn’t seem to feign any sense of normalcy in response to his question. You slowly made your way back to the dining room, checking over your shoulder as he followed behind you. As you turned back to face him, you finally managed to respond.

“I-it… good.” Your eyes squeezed shut, embarrassed at your own lack of poise. “Okay, yeah—what are you doing here?” You finally understood that dismissing his suddenness and surprise was not an option, because you could not focus on anything aside from the—

“For you.” He finally extended his arm, offering the bouquet of expensive looking and beautifully arranged flowers. Taking in the sight of them, smelling the sweet fragrance of the petals, you understood that his visit was not without intent. Knowing that from the very beginning, you carefully sat Ozz on the floor and accepted the gift anyway, feeling little desire to turn him or his sweet gestures away. “I’m headed back home tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” For two people who could not fully be together, the prospect of not having him around nearly brought you to your knees with grief. “So, just stopping in to say goodbye?” The crack in your voice gave you away, instantly telling him how painful the idea was.

A slight smile crossed his face as he gave his head a shake. Then, his eyes flickered to the floor for a moment, like he was trying to compose himself before giving a verbal response. You watched him carefully, like you were begging him for something you did not have the strength to say. Subconsciously, you wanted him to tell you all of the things you wanted to tell him, to open that door and make it easier for you to retract your ridiculous claims of friendship and separate ways.

If you had learned anything in the last few days, it was that you were crazy for thinking you could force yourself away from him a second time. Too scared to say it first, you hoped that by some stroke of luck, he was there to tell you exactly that.

“Not really, no.” He finally said, flipping up the second item in his hand so he could see it clearly. As you swallowed the lump in your throat, you tried not to look down at it, a sinking feeling in your stomach forcing you to believe you lived this exact scenario six years prior. Your only hope was that it would not end the same way. “I have a few things to say; do you have time to listen?”

“Y-yeah,” you cleared your throat, wishing to rid yourself of the stutter that suddenly took to your words. “For you, I always do.”

“Good.” He hummed, tapping his foot against the ground as his gaze flickered to your face. “Are you actually going to listen to me, sunshine?”

Although you hated admitting to your bad habits, you knew his question served a purpose, and he was completely justified in asking it.

“Yes.” You promised, assuring him of the fact.

“Okay.” He sighed a breath of relief, happy to hear it. “Nine years ago, or just about, I skipped my fourth period history class. It was raining outside, miserable and cold… I knew I couldn’t swing the soccer field, so I had to stay inside and not get caught. Instead, I went down to the gym, figured I could fuck around in the equipment closet for a little while, then figure something else out.”

“Jake,” you warned, your stomach lurching and your chest aching, remembering the day just as vividly and just as longingly as he did. You couldn’t hear him retell it, couldn’t bear hearing it from his point of view, especially when you spent so many years trying to forget it.

“You said you were going to listen, so listen.” He laughed, barely phased by your expected interruption. “When I went inside, I went straight to the back corner, where they kept all of the soccer balls and basketballs—but I heard something. I stopped, asked myself if I was fuckin’ crazy, but I knew that I wasn’t. Lo and behold, there was a girl sitting behind those big blue gymnastic mats. Do you know who it was, sunshine?” He was playing a sick and twisted game, one that you didn’t like very much but were too curious to refute. You wanted to hear what he had to say, even if it hurt like a bitch to do it.

“Me.” You whispered, crossing your arms over your torso and hugging yourself for a bit of comfort, in agony as you recalled his curious eyes and gentle approach.

“Crying, hiding, all because of Liam and his ridiculous fucking list.” He finished for you, his eyes glazed over as the melancholy sat itself upon both of your shoulders. He remembered that fact with utmost clarity, especially considering the fact he deemed Liam his mortal enemy after you told him why you were in the equipment room in the first place. “I was already in trouble with my parents for skipping—said if I did it again, I wouldn’t be able to play soccer anymore. For whatever reason, that day I couldn’t bring myself to step foot in that classroom, not even when I thought of the consequences. I didn’t care, but I didn’t know why. When I sat down beside you, the first ever time I got to be the shoulder you cried on, I got it. The minute I saw you, sunshine, the very second you opened your mouth and spoke to me, when you let me be that person for you, nothing else in the entire world mattered.”

“I was supposed to be there, Y/N. I was supposed to be with you, listening to you, loving you. My whole life, that is the only thing I have ever wanted to do, that I’ve ever been meant to do. I did it for nine whole years, even while you were gone and even when you didn’t want me to—even when I didn’t want to, I did.” He stepped towards you, intent clear in his eyes and showing no sign of backing down. “Six years ago, I stood in front of you in this house, and I gave you a CD with eight songs. Four songs that told you how much I loved you, and four songs that told you how horrible it felt to know that I wouldn’t be able to love you anymore.” He paused, chuckling to himself as he looked down at his hands, another damned plastic CD case held tightly in one of them.

For the briefest second, the flowers in your hand and the CD in his brought you to a different time, stuck in your bedroom with posters decorating the walls, the sweetness of lavender and vanilla hanging in the air, Dr. Phil reruns echoing down the hallways from the living room. You were eighteen again and so was he, silently begging each other to try a little harder, to have a little more faith, but too afraid to speak it aloud.

This time, you didn’t want to keep quiet. You remembered, almost too vividly, how painful it was to swallow your desires and leave him behind, how it never truly went away, how horrible it felt to chase your dreams without him by your side. You didn’t want that for him; you grew too much, worked too hard to end up in the same situation with just the roles reversed. You couldn’t let him go again, not without saying everything. You could leave no stone unturned, no matter how afraid you were of the outcome. You were so afraid of hurting him and yourself that you were doing it anyway, and if you had learned anything in your time loving Jake, it was that a single moment spent with him was worth any outcome, good or bad.

But, you promised him you would listen. The last few days, you had done all of the talking, made all of the decisions. It was his turn, and you had to allow him that.

“Back then, I thought it was so stupid… that you would think it was stupid, or corny, or whatever.” He swallowed hard, his eyes still focused on the plastic casing in his hand. “For a long time, that’s how I felt about it. Eight songs couldn’t even come close to how I feel about you, sunshine. Nothing could ever explain that, not even me. For six years, I thought there was just some stupid CD out in the world, or in the garbage somewhere, wondering why I couldn’t have been a little braver and said it aloud, rather than being a coward and biting my tongue. I hated that CD, because I always thought it wasn’t enough.”

“Jake, it was more than enough.” You stressed, gently placing the flowers down on the dining room table behind you.

“It wasn’t enough back then, but it was enough to bring you back now, sunshine.” He corrected you. “I wanted it to keep us together, but I’m okay with the fact it just took a while to work.” Before you could respond, you got distracted by the beauty of his face as he smiled softly, like he was proud of himself for phrasing it so perfectly. “I told you that night that it wasn’t over for us, that maybe it was just the time wasn’t right—Romeo and Juliet. That’s why I put that song on there.”

“I know that’s why, and I agreed with you.” You hummed, feeling that damn gravitational pull forcing you towards him again.

“Right, but I’m telling you that there’s no way in hell that the time was wrong twice.” He stepped towards you, wanting to take your face in his hands but holding himself back. “This is our second chance, our opportunity to do it right.”

“But it doesn’t—“

“It does.” He cut you off, knowing exactly where your mind was. “Those notifications, Y/N, all the rescheduled meetings and interviews… I know why you reacted like that, but it wasn’t what you thought it was.”

“Then what was it?” You hugged yourself a bit tighter, needing the security as he began to deconstruct even more notions in your mind.

“Josh.” He confessed, catching your eye so you could see the truthful intent.

Jake had always been a terrible liar, and in that moment, you couldn’t catch a single wisp of anything other than the truth.

“When you called, and we started talking again, he was even happier than we were, and it was his idea to put everything on pause so I could come here and make sure that I didn’t lose you again.” You felt a wave of sickness wash over you, guilt nipping at your skin and ravaging your heart and head. Jake didn’t put everything on pause and hinder himself and everyone else; everyone else was on board, pushing him back towards the girl he dreamt of every night for six years. You had jumped the gun, decided things for yourself and never gave him the chance to explain. “And if you think, even for a second, that I would want any girl that wasn’t you, you really have lost your mind, sunshine.”

“I didn’t…” you trailed off, knowing that you had indeed lost your mind. Believing that he would ever be unfaithful or disloyal to you was the most insane thing you had ever done, and punishing him for something you knew was not true was even worse. “I’m sorry, bug.”

“Amelie is our friend, yes, but more importantly,” he reached into his pocket, swiping the screen to unlock it and show you he was being honest. “Our photographer.” He flashed the screen in your direction, the text chain in question visible. The very message that put the nail in the coffin was followed by what looked like four pristine, stunning pictures of Jake on stage with his guitar in his hands, illuminated by the pyrotechnics with his hair sticking to his skin.

Although the topic at hand was more pressing, you could not deny the feeling rapidly growing in the pit of your stomach, worsening as you stared at the pictures of him, wondering if by chance you would be able to see the sight with your own eyes someday.

“I was bothering her all week to send me some of the shots she got… to show you.”

“Jake,” you took your face in your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as your heart ached for the boy who stood before you. How could you hurt him so badly, more than once? “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m not mad, or upset, or anything, sunshine. You deserve the truth, and that’s why I’m here.” As you pulled your hands away from your face, you saw him slip his phone back into his pocket. Then, his attention turned back to the plastic case in his hands as he drew in a long breath. “And the fucking truth is, I can’t go back to Nashville and leave things like this. I can’t be your friend, I can’t be in love but not together, and I won’t be a fucking stranger again. You found that box for a reason, and the reason is standing in front of you right now—the reason was the night at the hotel, and what should have been the last few days. The time isn’t wrong, sunshine. I’m here, telling you that I have never stopped loving you, not even for a minute. I waited so long for you to reach out, spent so many nights staring at the ceiling trying to remember what it felt like when you were laying next to me, and I don’t want to do that anymore, especially when I know that it feels just as good now as it did when we were eighteen.”

He didn’t give you the chance to interrupt, because he stepped forward and pulled your mind in an entirely different direction. The scent of his cologne, sandalwood and amber, so reminiscent of the only peace you had ever known, was impossible to ignore.

“I gave you eight songs when we were eighteen, and I let you walk away. That was the biggest mistake I have ever made, and I spent my whole life trying to figure out how to fix it.”

You looked upwards, intoxicated by his cologne and frozen in time as you locked eyes with him. Sometimes, when he was staring at you, it felt like the whole world stopped turning, like the only thing that existed was the love shared between you. Your heart, aching and yearning for the only thing you had ever loved, did not belong to you. It had always been in the palm of his hand, his name to be heard in every timely beat if you listened close enough, and it never felt right anywhere else. Even as you stood now, broken and bruised after so long of suffering, you knew it was the only place you ever wanted it to be.

“This time, I have eight songs that I’ll let you decide the meaning to. If you want to walk away again, I can’t stop you, but only if you really mean it sunshine. If there is any part of you that wants to try again, listen to it—to me, when I tell you how fucking much I love you, how badly I want this.” Your eyes fluttered closed, trying your best not to shed a tear as you clung to every word. How could you deny him? How could you push him out the door and risk the chance of losing him forever? You knew how miserable life was without him by your side, and sometimes you believed death would be preferable to the feeling of missing him. Constantly walking, functioning, breathing, but never enjoying it. The functions automatic, just for survival and never for anything more.

You were tired of surviving, because you knew that being with him was the only time it ever truly felt like you were living.

“No One Like You, The Scorpions.” He started, confidence returning to him when he did not hear any objections. “If I had to pick one song to describe exactly how it felt without you, that’s the one. In six years, I never met a single person that could even come close to you, sunshine. I waited every single day for this, just to be with you again, no matter what we were doing.” You didn’t think it was possible for your heart to break any more, but every time he spoke, it did just that.

“You’re In My Heart… Rod Stewart.” He hummed out the words, sending you a soft smile that made your stomach twist in on itself. “Because you’re in my heart, you’re in my soul… you’ll be my breath should I grow old…” He whispered, reciting the lyrics as the apples of his cheeks tinged red. He chuckled at himself, embarrassed at his own actions, but you couldn’t have fallen any further in love with him than you were in that moment.

“You’re my lover, you’re my best friend.” You finished for him, unable to hold back the smile that wanted to match his so badly. Reaching out, a gentle hand landed on his forearm to show him how much he meant to you and how true the words were.

“Carry On by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.” He continued, listing off yet another song that would mean just as much to you in years to come, no matter the outcome. “For lots of reasons… listened to it a lot after you went to school. Guess the reason I put it on this one was because of that last line. ‘Lover, can you talk to me?’” He paused, reaching up to swipe away a single tear that escaped the corner of your eye. “We don’t have to just… carry on. We can figure it out together, as a team. Just like we always did back then.”

“I think I like the sound of that.” You admitted, the words slipping out faster than you could stop them. There was no more holding back; the floodgates had opened, and you too knew that there was no way you could send him back to Nashville and leave things like this.

“We’re Going Wrong.” He said, trying to get through the songs as fast as possible. “I listened to it the day you left for university, and I listened to it this week at the hotel. This is wrong, sunshine. All of it. The way we feel, being apart… it doesn’t have to be like this. Two people who love each other this much should be able to make it work.”

You didn’t give a verbal response, but you were sure he could see it in your eyes that you felt the same.

“I Can’t Tell You Why… last time, I threw a Bob Dylan song on the CD, and I know you hated it, even if you didn’t say it out loud. Maybe that was why it didn’t work.” At that, the two of you shared a true, genuine laugh that shook your shoulders and lessened the heartbreak for a moment. “To make up for it, I put an Eagles song on this one, ‘cause I know they’re your favorite. Lots to pick from, but I think that one gets the message across the best.”

“Me, too.” You hummed, unable to tear your eyes away from his, feeling an invisible force locking you into place. Every time you saw him, every single time his eyes connected with yours, the whole world felt right. It seemed as though when he was next to you, nothing could ever go wrong.

“Sweet City Woman.” He laughed to himself as he said it aloud, the blush on his cheeks darkening as he prepared to confess to the next one. “Sam went through this phase, way back when we first went on tour… swear to god, sunshine, he played this song every single day. Drank to it before shows, he danced around to it on the tour bus. Not sure what it was… maybe it was just catchy, upbeat, put him in a good mood and got stuck in his head… I used to get so mad at him, but it wasn’t because I hated the song, or anything like that. For the first little while, it was funny watching him sing along to it, but it always made me so fucking sad and I had no idea why. Went to bed early one night, they were all drinking and talking, and he put it on like usual… I was scrolling through old pictures, even though I knew I shouldn’t, and it made sense—that whole song, from the very first note, always made me miss you, because it reminded me of you. Bright and shiny, full of love and light…”

“Some things never change, Jacob.” You laughed, blinking back tears blurring your vision. The happy sadness was coating your words, stuck in your throat and warbling your tone.

“What do you mean?” He asked, fighting every urge to hold you until the sadness passed and only happiness remained.

“Hopeless romantic, just like always.” You whispered, feeling tempted by the softness of his lips, wondering if you could interrupt his grand show of affection and cut straight to the point. Remembering what it was like to kiss him and to touch him was tortuous enough without him within reach, but having him standing in front of you was worse than anything else. Still, you decided to let him finish, to say all he needed to get off his chest so the two of you could move forward.

“Only for you, Y/N. Always for you.” He hummed, the gentle tone matching yours. “Angel Eyes by The Jeff Healey Band… we were at a bar, Josh and I, not long after we released that first EP. Went on a big road trip to Toledo, just him and I, to get away and to distract me from being miserable—not sure why we picked Toledo, but whatever—anyway, we were at this dingy bar, losing money at a set of slot machines.” He cut himself off from rambling, bluntly getting to the main point of his story. At that, another laugh took hold, imagining the picture with the utmost clarity. “Someone threw this song on the old Jukebox, and I had never heard it before. Was an older couple, just starting to go gray and definitely hammered. Sunshine, they slow danced to that song like they were the only people in the room—no, in the world. I was drunk off draft, and mourning the three-hundred bucks I just threw in the machine, and I watched them the whole damn time.” He stopped himself, choked up and teary-eyed just at the memory. He shook his head, clearing his throat as he blinked away his own tears, unwilling to break down in front of you as he told the story.

“I just remember thinking to myself how much I wanted to do that with you, how badly I wanted that to be us—then and in twenty years, when your hair is turning gray and I’m going bald. It had been so long since I talked to you, since I saw you, and even then… I just knew, sunshine. I knew it was you, that it would always be you. Here in Michigan, at mom and dad’s house, in a taproom in fucking Toledo, at the Eiffel Tower in France, in that fucking hotel room in Italy—sunshine, it’s you. You’re the only thing I have ever wanted, and no matter where I am or what I’m doing, I want you there beside me. I knew that night that I couldn’t give up, because if I still loved you as much as I did when you left, it wasn’t worth letting go.”

“Jake,” you swallowed back a sob, your heart shattered in your chest and stabbing you with every breath, knowing that you felt all of the same things for just as long as he did. “I felt—I feel the same way. There was never another you, and I didn’t want to find one. I didn’t want anyone to take your place, or sleep in bed next to me. I didn’t want to learn anyone else’s favorite color, or how they drank their coffee. I wanted you.” He wanted to respond, but his eyes flickered to the CD, knowing he had one last thing to say before the conversation changed direction. You smiled, giving him a gentle nod as a silent permissive gesture. He let out a breath, happy to know you understood what he meant.

“Straight On, Heart.” He finished the tracklist, proud of himself for making it that far. “I’m here for a reason, sunshine, and you know exactly what it is.” He finished, standing still as he awaited your response. His breathing stopped, his eyes locked on you with no intent to move, wondering if after all this time it was finally enough. “Do you feel it too, or am I just fucking crazy?” Instead of responding, you reached your hand out, slow and steady as you extended it towards him. His gaze flickered towards your outstretched fingers, wondering what it meant and if he accepted, would it be for the reason he so badly wanted.

“Come on,” you emphasized your hand, raising an eyebrow at him. Cautiously, he reached out and laced his fingers with yours. “Come with me.” You whispered, taking a small step towards the hallway. Without a word, he followed behind, letting you lead him up the stairs and to your bedroom, the one in which you had created a lifetime's worth of cherished memories. “Sit.” You motioned towards the bed, reluctantly letting go of his hand as you ushered him away from you.

He did as you asked, still holding the CD close as he sat on the very edge of the bed, the same space you sat six years prior while he stood and poured his heart out to you. For a brief moment, you admired the sight of him in your bed again, feeling that it had been far long since you were able to experience something so beautiful. Then, forcing yourself to remember why you brought him upstairs in the first place, you took a step towards your desk. Your fingers clasped around the tattered shoebox, the fateful capsule of memories that brought you back to him in the first place. The shine of silver sharpie, half faded and covered with dust brought a smile to your face as you picked it up and brought it to him, taking a seat next to him on the mattress.

“The first Christmas after we broke up, I sat right here with Mom… I was so sad. I was sad every single day after I left, and sometimes it felt like I was drowning in it, like I would die if it didn’t get better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you knew he was listening to every word. “I listened to that first mixtape twenty-four seven, Jake. First thing in the morning, while I got ready for class, while I showered, when I went to bed. I had every scratch, skip, static, all of it, memorized. I thought about you every minute of every day, and dreamt about you while I slept. When I came home for the holidays, I was a fucking mess.” Listening intently without saying a word, his eyes seemed to be burning holes straight through you, putting you on display like never before.

“She was desperate to help, so she did the exact same thing she did when dad left; she helped me pack up every single memory and reminder of you we could find.” You felt the scratch of tears in your throat as you recalled the visceral pain as you packed your life’s greatest love away in a box to never be seen again. “Including the CD.” You flipped the top open, feeling a sinking feeling in your stomach for no real reason at all. The memories washed over you like summer rain, sweeter and warmer than ever before now that he was here to live it with you. You reached inside, your fingertips grazing over flower petals and baby’s breath from corsages and bouquets he didn’t even think you remembered.

“She packed it away somewhere, kept it out of sight until I was ready for it again. Think she thought that when I stumbled across it, I’d be healed and moved on… she never anticipated me to still be as in love with you as I was the day we put all of this stuff away.” You continued, carefully laying out tokens of love on the patterned cotton sheet below, showing him just how cherished and loved he was by you. “I always knew, Jake. I always knew that you would be that person for the rest of my life, no matter where I was or how long it had been since I saw you. When I opened this box… the whole world stopped. At first, it hurt so bad, but now I know that it happened for a reason.”

“I tried, for four years, to forget about you, to forget about how badly I missed you, how deeply I loved you. I buried myself in work, distracted myself with anything I could think of, and sure after a while the memories faded to the back of my mind, but that hollow feeling never left.” You scattered old guitar picks alongside flower petals, your fingers tracing the divots in the plastic from their prolonged use. Years of musical history lived within the flimsy fibers, contained within the box to keep them safe forever. Not a single moment of Jake’s life, of his love, or of his emotion went unnoticed by you, and not a single second did you ever take it for granted. Within your heart, it was forever sacred. “I had myself convinced that you moved on, that you forgot all about me and found a girl who could love you better than I could, back then. Not for a single second did I ever consider the idea that you were hurting just as bad as I was, because if I’m being honest, I never thought there was a universe that existed where you would not be loved so completely and wholly like you deserved.”

“When I found the box… as we sit here now, I know that you were always loved like that, even if you didn’t feel it or see it or hear it, because I never stopped.” You pressed your lips together tightly, locking up the cry that was desperate to escape as your fingers grazed the stack of old Polaroids. “Every single thing you ever gave me, every picture we took, every love letter you signed with your name, it’s all here, Jake. I kept it for a reason, because six years ago the universe knew I would need some motivation, some courage, to reach out and tell you that no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget you.”

“I remember everything. Where we took these pictures, how it felt to be loved by you in that moment, the sound of Josh laughing at us, the fucking sticky summer heat on my skin. All of these guitar picks—you gave me this one,” you pointed at a green one, smiling softly to yourself. “This one fell out of your pocket into the bed,” you pointed at a worn black one. “And I found this one in the bathroom, the night we decided to take a step back and figure our shit out before I left.” You took in a deep breath, calming your buzzing nerves as you continued to tell him everything you had kept secret for so long. “This sticky note, you left on my desk in senior year. English class, which you fucking hated, after the teacher got pissed off at you for talking to me. This rose petal came from the first bouquet of flowers you ever gave me, and this movie stub was from eleventh grade.” You stopped yourself, realizing you were rambling for no real reason at all other than to finally, truly express how much he meant to you.

“Point is, I didn’t forget anything. I convinced myself I did, ‘til it was in front of my face and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I found this for a reason, and the reason definitely isn’t ’two people in love who can’t fully be together’.” You finished, catching his hopeful eye and feeling the same feeling blossoming in your own chest. “I was stupid, and I was scared, both times. I wish I could take that back, to make it right and make it up to you… I know I can’t, but I want to try, Jake. All those things I felt at the hotel, although they’re true, aren’t a good enough reason to give this up. My whole life, especially the last six years, I’ve come to terms with the fact that loving you is the only thing that I know how to do, and I don’t want to know anything or anyone else. You’re that person for me too, bug. You always have been.”

“Sunshine,” he breathed, his hand going in search of the items you held so close to your heart. As his calloused fingertips grazed the edge of the Polaroid picture, the very one of you sitting in the field, nestled so comfortably in his arms, you knew the exact feeling that washed over him. Seeing it after so long, having all of that love rush back and fill your body, it was almost too much to bear. Thankfully, this time, you had each other to lean on. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that.”

“I know you won’t throw your life away to be with me. I suppose I’m just so afraid… I’m afraid because I love you so much, Jake. Even while I went off, chasing my own dreams and building a new life… yours were still so important to me. I’ve been your biggest fan since the day I met you, and I know how hard you’ve worked to get here, and I don’t ever want to get in the way of that. I couldn’t handle it if I did and you resented me for it. I love you too much, Jake. Always have. Used to think it was a bad thing, but I know that it is the best thing in the whole fucking world. Loving you makes it worth it, and I want to live your dream with you, and now you can live my dream with me.” He haphazardly tossed all of the items back in the box, still cautious so as not to damage any of the precious memories, a blinding smile growing on his face the longer he worked at the task.

“Last time, I told you ‘we have tonight’.” He said, finally placing the box on the floor beside the bed and looking back at you. You hummed a noise of agreement, nodding ever so slightly. “What if it’s not just tonight, sunshine? It can be the rest of our lives. It can feel like this forever—I just need you to say yes. We can figure all of the hard shit out later, take it as it comes.” He watched you, waiting as you processed what he was saying. After a moment of prolonged silence, he spoke again. “I love you, sunshine. More than anyone or anything, and I will love you no matter if you’re mine or not. If we’re going to love each other anyway, let’s do it the right way.” Silence ensued once more, but not because you were hesitant. This time, it was because you had a hard time believing that it could be real, that he was here and the stars had aligned, that the time was finally right.

No more obstacles, no more fear, no more waiting for the one thing you had always dreamed about. He was here, eight more songs in hand, ready to love you for the rest of his life and unwilling to settle for anything less. You had never wanting anyone or anything more than this, more than him, and after spending so long lamenting about something you thought you may never get, it was difficult to trust that it could be so easy.

“What do you say, sunshine?” Clearly, the silence was affecting him a bit more than you realized, leaving him shifting nervously in his seat and desperate for an answer.

“Yes, Jake.” You breathed, nodding your head as a second form of reassurance. “Of course I’m going to say yes. I know I’ve been afraid, and stupid, but you are the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Being with you is the only thing that makes sense.” You explained, moving a bit closer to him in hopes he would take the hint. “I want to figure it out. I want us to work.”

Without another word, without any hesitation, he sprung forward like you had just given him the greatest gift in the entire world. His hands landed on your hips, and not long after his lips were on your own, showing you exactly how he felt about your decision. The feeling of his touch sent you spiraling, ascending to a height that only he could bring you to. His hands, warm and gentle, felt like they were burning straight through the cotton material covering your skin, leaving behind a mark to claim you as his own despite the fact you had always been his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, inviting him in and hoping he would choose to stay there forever so you would never have to suffer another minute without him.

It seemed like when he was touching you, the whole world was still; nothing else mattered, and nothing that would come after could ever compare. The only terrible part of it was the fact you could never get enough, that you couldn’t fathom the bliss coming to an end or how you could survive the loss of it. Although the two of you had grown accustomed to loss at each other's hands, it never made the hurt any easier nor the pain any less dignified.

“Jake, I need you.” You whispered, breaking from his kiss just long enough to utter the words.

Just like always, you did not have to ask him twice. Still high off the emotion-filled confessional, he stood and kicked the door shut, barely lingering to lock it before he was back by your side. His need, although unspoken, exuded from his actions and the familiar look in his eye. He had been waiting, patient and loving for you to give him permission to do the one thing he was put on earth to do.

As he climbed back on the bed, between your legs, you could not refute how innate the feeling was—nothing had ever felt so right, the weight of his body atop of yours, always secure and never intimidating. The softness of his lips against your skin, the love woven into the miniscule action enchanting and endless, reminding you of his heart and how it beat just for you. The rough calluses on his fingertips, igniting every bit of skin he touched and now, the tickle of his hair as it fell over his shoulders—all of it was a small piece of an even bigger picture, one in which you painted in your mind every night you spent without him, the bed empty yet somehow still sunken in by the weight of his memory beside you.

Loving him was the easiest thing you had ever done. Falling was never the question, and climbing out wasn’t even a possibility. Even if you were equipped with the skills to evade it, you didn’t want to. Even when you had yourself fooled, believing you had left it behind in the little hometown that would always haunt you, it was bound to catch up to you eventually.

When his lips connected with yours again, the sweet taste of his skin against the very tip of your tongue, you wondered if he was the very thing that breathed life into you. Your heart, mending just at the thought of a future with him, your soul shining brighter and threatening to burst from under your skin as he continued to love you. Without him, survival remained, but living was always the question. How can you truly enjoy your life when you always feel like there’s a part of you missing?

The feeling blossoming in the pit of your stomach, your skin aflame with his touch, the breathlessness in your lungs and the steady thud of your heart underneath your breastbone let you know that you were whole again—feeling every single sensation intensified by a million, you were living. Not waiting for the mediocre to pass you by, not gazing out into nothing and wondering if you would find something—he was there, invigorating and energizing parts inside you that you never thought would feel again, like he never even left at all.

As his hands slipped under your shirt, the slight scratch of his rough skin sending a shiver down your spine, you wondered how you ever had the ability to deny him at all. Walking away from that hotel room, leaving him behind and swallowing your sorrow may have been an act that hurt him, but you did so with the intent to keep him safe. It was never a selfish act, nor an intent to harm. You truly believed that by keeping your distance, you would protect the very heart that gave so much to you, that it would save him even more hurt in the long run. Now, feeling the emotion bleeding him dry, the beat of his heart against your own body, you saw a whole different side of the story. Leaving never protected either of you, not in the very beginning and certainly not now. Being with each other, living life alongside each other, seemed to be the only thing that would leave you both truly satisfied.

“Fuck,” you hissed through your teeth, all of the nerves in your body aflame as his palm landed over your chest, the warmth of his skin and the firmness of his touch sending electricity straight through you. Using his arm to push the fabric away from your torso, it slid upwards and bunched together around your shoulders, leaving you exposed and at his disposal.

He leaned down, his lips trailing over your stomach as he made it a point to show you just how much he held for you in his heart. Even if the intent was filthy, the act itself sinful, he treated you with care and caution, making sure you knew he would never lay a finger on you if it were for the wrong reasons. Just the same as an angry word would never pass his lips, a cruel name or even a negative thought in his head. When it came to you, love was the only thing that concerned him, and now that he had the second chance he had been waiting so patiently for he was determined to show you all of the things he was feeling.

With every kiss he placed on your skin, you felt his actions grow more careless. His tongue traced the same spots his lips once graced, and as he progressed further up your body, faint red marks remained from the suction of his cheeks, desperate to remind you of his company for days to come. Eventually, his mouth landed on your breast, his tongue grazing your hardened nipple and forcing your thighs to try and squeeze together, desperate for friction. He felt the pressure on his hips, settled carefully between them as you tried to relieve yourself without a second thought. You could feel him smile against you, only worsening the ache between your legs.

You wanted him so bad you could barely contain yourself, unable to enjoy the moment without feeling the need for more. A whine in the back of your throat only furthered his cockiness, letting him know he barely had to try to make you feel good. Every breathy moan and muffled sigh affected him, and you could feel his cock against your core, worked up just by touching you and asking for relief just at the thought of fucking you.

You slowly reached your hand between your bodies, wanting to feel him just the same as he was with you. As you palmed him through his pants, you felt his hips jut forward ever so slightly, unable to control the reaction he had to your hands on him.

“Impatient much?” He chastised you, his tone light and a small smile on his lips as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Not impatient,” you huffed, your cheeks flushed from his constant attention. “Just know what I want.” A low chuckle shook his shoulders, finding your rebuttal humorous.

“Mhm,” he hummed an agreement, looking up at you with a shine of mischief in his warm brown eyes. “And that just so happens to be… me?” His torment was getting on your nerves, making you regret speaking at all.

“Obviously, Jake. Did you really need to ask that?” You rolled your eyes, watching his gaze flicker to your shirtless chest for a moment, like he was admiring the sight and unable to look away.

“No,” he grinned. “Just like to hear you say it.” You did not have time to think too long about his words, because his mouth was back on you, and this time as he kissed, his lips traveled downwards towards your navel. As he did so, you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed with him any longer, too caught up in the rush of excitement that flooded your body and distracted by the thought of what was to come.

As his fingers dipped below the waistband of your pants, you had to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from crying out. He barely even touched you, yet everything he was doing felt fantastic. Just him being near made you want to fall to your feet, to beg him for more, for anything he was willing to give. You lifted your hips from the mattress, allowing him to slide your pajama bottoms and underwear down in one motion. Once he removed them from your legs, he tossed them to the floor without a single care in the world.

When his hands returned to your legs, your muscles tensed and twitched at the feeling. Slowly, he brought his lips back to your skin, grazing over the insides of your thighs. Your hands traveled downward, fingers lacing into the locks of his hair as he continued his torment.

Eventually, his mouth was hovering over your heat, a hunger in his eyes that you could not quite comprehend as you stared down at him. You could feel the arousal pooling, your need unfathomable as you understood how close you were to having him again. Despite all the heartbreak, the pain when he was gone, the minute he was in reach you were absolved of all the ailments.

Two strong hands on your hips, holding you firmly as he pulled you down on the mattress, connecting his mouth to your cunt with ease. A gasp fell from your lips, your abdomen tensing at the intensity of the feeling. His tongue settled over your entrance, savoring the taste of you for a moment.

When he began to move, slowly but intently through your folds until he landed over your clit, your hips raised off the bed to meet the time of his actions. His name, already caught in the back of your throat and stuck in your teeth as you tried to hold it back, was forcing its way out whether you wanted it to or not. He was barely tracing circles around your clit before your legs were trembling, and barely started before you felt the familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Everything he did was fantastic, and it always seemed like he never even realized it.

If you had learned any lesson on your journey, it was that Jake was undoubtedly one of a kind, in a league of his own without even a thought of another contender.

“Always taste so fucking sweet, angel. Can’t believe it’s all for me.” His tone was raspy as he pulled back for just long enough to praise you, the sound washing over you as warm as summer rain.

For the briefest of moments, you were sixteen again, falling in love with him all over again and even more intensely than before. Back then, you did not know much about love or how to express it, but you always tried your best. Looking back on it, you understood that despite your lack of knowledge, you loved him better than you could ever love another, and he did the same with you. Now, you had grown and you had learned, all of the lessons you did not realize you needed to endure and all of the hardships you faced and never realized would help you in the future allowed you to love him with a whole new meaning, appreciating him for all he was and all he would be.

You were near twenty five, a quarter of a century spent fighting for happiness and figuring out what was right, finally at the destination you always knew you’d find.

You wished you could say it was only a part of you that forever belonged to Jake, even in his absence, but it was not true. All of you had always belonged to him, and trying to refute the fact was the stupidest thing you had ever done.

“Fuck, Jake.” You whined, the pleasure pulsing under your skin and infiltrating your veins. He was so phenomenal that he took over every thought and emotion, burrowing into your skin and making a home in all of the places you never suspected to find him. His memory was seared into your heart, hollowing out your bones and existing within them. Everything he was doing now served only as a reminder that you would never be able to escape the love he so often threw your way.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby.” He encouraged, his tone thick with desire as he used his thumb in place of his tongue. “You know it’s my favorite sound in the whole fucking world.” Overtaken with need, you let out a strained cry, wanting to give him anything and everything he ever asked for. He hummed against you as he traced your clit with his tongue, gentle praise to let you know how happy he was to hear it. He added his fingers to you, slowly pumping his middle and index fingers and curling them upwards in search of the spot he knew all too well.

Your hands in his hair tightened, drawing him nearer even though it was virtually impossible to do so. Your hips began a slow, steady rhythm to match the time of his tongue and hand, maximizing the pleasure he was granting you and desperate for more. The warm wetness of his tongue was divine, pushing you closer to the edge with every passing second and sparing you no mercy.

The searing heat of your skin, the glisten of sweat on your forehead and the rapid rise and fall of your chest let him know he had you exactly where he wanted you, and now that he did, he would never let it slip away.

The knot in the pit of your stomach began tightening, fraying under the pressure and threatening to snap. Your heart was pounding, wildly drumming against your chest and in your throat. Your lungs were burning, unable to catch up on the air you so desperately needed. As you struggled to comprehend the intensity of the feeling, you feared for a fleeting moment in time that you might die at his hand. Then, as the thought passed you by, you understood that it would be the most blissful end you could ever imagine. To die by his touch and the last sight be his eyes, you knew there would be no better. Whatever came after, wherever you landed, the memory would allow you to flourish under any circumstances.

“Oh god, Jake.” Your words served as a warning, close to an orgasm and left without control. It never took him long to get you where he wanted you, and that day proved no different.

He hummed against you, the soft vibration only heightened the feeling burning in the pit of your stomach. As your fingers tugged at the strands of his hair, your hips raised from the bed to meet the time of his tongue, your body in search of something you were unsure you could handle. Without any warning, the knot in your belly snapped under the pressure, leaving you unraveling beneath him, your throat aching as you cried out his name. Your mind was foggy, your thighs trembling as he held you in place, working you through the orgasm like it was his favorite pastime. He did not slow until your muscles relaxed and you were melting into the mattress below, and even when he pulled away, you knew it was not to give you any kind of break. He slid from the bed and freed himself from his pants and boxers with little effort, and before you knew it he was between your legs on his knees before you even came too, his cock resting against your entrance and his eyes fixated on your fucked-out expression. He was too desperate to wait any longer, not even long enough to fully rid himself of his clothes, but you did not mind one bit.

“Do you know how much I love you, sunshine?” He asked, anchoring his hands around your hips as he pulled you towards him. “Do you know how much you mean to me? How much this means to me?” Sliding his hands to the front of your thighs, he pushed your legs towards your stomach with his chest. “You are everything to me, Y/N. You always have been, and you always will be.” As he spoke, he pushed his hips forward, the stretch of you from his size delicious and intoxicating. “You’re home to me, Angel.”

“I do, baby.” You groaned, your head falling back on the pillows as his sweet words washed over you. “I feel the same, Jake. I always have.” You cried, feeling him withdraw and slam back into you.

Looking up at him, the overhead light highlighting the small details that drive you crazy, you noticed your previous orgasm still glistening on his chin. His pupils had engulfed his irises, blackened with lust and shining with desire. The raise of his shoulders with every heaved breath, the radiance of the little skin you could see. He was stunning, ethereal and god-like as he towered over you, and you still could not believe how lucky you were to be on the receiving end of his love.

As he fucked you, he used one hand to undo the last few buttons on his shirt, shaking it from his shoulders and tossing it lazily on the floor. The careless action sent a rush of pleasure straight to your core, making you wonder why everything he did was so fantastic, no matter what it was.

“Always feel so fucking good, sunshine.” He hummed, using his hands on your thigh to pull you down on him with every thrust of his hips. The impact made your legs feel like liquid, barely able to hold them up if not for his help. The curve of your ass fit perfectly against his hips, making the two of you privy to another way that proved you were meant to be together. “Just like you were fucking made for me.” At that, your walls fluttered around him, pulling him in deeper in hopes to keep him there forever.

Keeping his arm hooked around your thigh, he reached between your legs and settled his thumb over your clot, tracing slow circles as he continued on his steady pace. You were a mess for him, your throat raw as you hissed obscenities through your teeth. You reached up, curling your fingers around his biceps to keep yourself steady, the pulse of the pleasure sending you off kilter. Having him so close, so entirely, was a feeling you could not get from anything else. You wanted Jake, all of him, all of the time. Being deprived of it did not seem like such a big deal in the time you spent away, but now back in his arms, you knew how detrimental the loss was.

“Feels so fucking good, baby.” You whimpered, feeling the familiar sensation begin to burn in your belly again. “You make me feel so good.”

“That’s right, sweetheart.” He hummed, applying a touch more pressure with his thumb. “Nobody else could make you feel like this, right?” He delivered a particularly sharp slam of his hips, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“Only you, Jake. Nobody else.” You cried the agreement, wanting him to know that it was not only fact, but law. He was the only person in the entire world that could ever make you feel so good, so loved. He knew you better than anyone, and he loved you better than anything. He was in a league of his own, no contender even possible.

“And why is that, angel?” He asked, the force of his thrusts increasing, but not his speed. Every time he moved, you could feel him brush against the sensitive spot inside of you only he knew of. He was intent on driving you crazy, and he was making quick work at it. “Tell me why that is.” He ordered, his tone a bit more curt as he spoke for the second time.

“Because I’m yours,” you gasped, your hips raising to meet his when a particularly sharp pull of pleasure took hold. “I’m all yours Jake.”

“Exactly, baby.” He huffed, seemingly faltering at the sound of your words. “Because you’re all mine.” The possessiveness did nothing but further your pathetic need for him. All you had ever wanted to be was his, and knowing he wanted it just as bad was almost too much to bear.

His fingers seemed to be searing into your skin, the heat of his touch almost painful as he fucked into you, but you could not get enough of it. The marks that were destined to be left behind would remind you of him when he was on his flight back to Nashville, a gentle promise that he would be back again and the distance would not wear on his ability to love you. You felt greedy, wanting him to mark up your skin and leave his memory embedded in your soul, needed to hold on to every piece when he was far away. The thought used to scare you, worry you that in his absence, his fondness would falter. Now, you knew that would be impossible. There was no amount of distance, in this life or the next, that would lessen his love for you. He loved you the same as you loved him, and because of that, you knew it to be infinite.

“I want you to cum for me, sunshine.” He pulled you down on him again, his thumb still tracing circles as his hips moved in time. You could not verbally respond, instead feeling a guttural moan tear straight through your chest. He did not need to ask more than once, and in truth, he never needed to ask at all. You were teetering on the edge, close from the very moment he pushed inside of you, wanting nothing more than to give him anything and everything he wanted.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your muscles tensing as you felt the fire blazing within you become too much to withstand. With one last thrust of his hips, for the second time that night he had turned you into a mess below him. As the sweet sounds fell from your lips, he reveled in the feeling, unable to express the pride he felt knowing he had such an effect on you.

“There you go, angel.” He praised your hard work, finding it difficult to hold himself back as his name was spoken so beautifully between the slur of curses. You were worse than any addiction he had ever experienced, your hold on him so strong that he would go to the ends of the earth for you. “God, you take it so fucking well.” He huffed, a groan falling from his lips as he lost his own composure.

When you came down from the high, you had no time to recover, his pace never slowing and his thumb never letting up. The sting of overstimulation began to terrorize your nerves, driving you near insanity as you squirmed under his touch. You didn’t want him to stop, willing to take every uncomfortable second if it meant he would stay right there and never leave again.

“Doing so good, sweetheart. Just a little longer.” He encouraged, noticing your expression shift. “Always such a good girl for me.” You did not respond, instead feeling tears sting your eyes as the irritating feeling took over your entire body.

“Oh, fuck, Jake!” You exploded, your throat raw as you sang his name. It was like music to his ears, like it was a hymn and he was the god you prayed to. As long as he had a say, he never wanted that to change.

“That’s it, angel.” He growled, his head falling back and exposing the columns of his neck. You stared up at him, wondering how you could feel something so sinful and immoral at the same time as you felt such innocent and beautiful love for the boy. Jake made you feel a million things all at once, which was part of the reason he was so fantastic. He made you feel things you weren’t even sure you could, things you did not even know existed.

“Ah, fuck.” He hissed. Then, a growl came straight from his chest, framing him closer to a wild animal than the love of your night. He withdrew his hips, then in one swift motion, got out from between your legs and slipped his arm under your waist. Easily, he flipped you onto your stomach, the suddenness taking you by surprise and quickly making you forget about the nagging overstimulation.

Within seconds, he was back on top of you, straddling your thighs as he lined himself back up with you. When he fucked into you, the tightness of your body and the size of him sent you into bliss, only furthered when his hand raised to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he gently pulled your head backwards. As his hips found a new pace, he leaned his upper half down towards you, his lips settling just over your ear as he placed a kiss to it. A shiver ran down your spine, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him how good it felt. Instead, when he pulled your head to the side and connected your mouths, you let him drink in every pathetic whine and cry, needing him to feel it instead of hear it.

Only when he was desperate for air did he pull away, his skin burning and his eyes crazed as he looked over your expression. Your flushed cheeks and shining eyes had always been his favorite sight in the whole world, and after watching you come undone by his doing twice, he was barely hanging on to his own sanity.

“Can you give me one more, angel?” He whispered, his cock brushing against your g-spot with every thrust of his hips. Your skin was electric, your nerves on fire and your legs trembling.

“D-don’t know, Jake.” You stuttered the response, wanting to do whatever he asked of you but feeling the tiredness set in. The rollercoaster of emotions and the surplus of pleasure had left your mind greatly depleted, your energy non-existent, and your eyelids heavy.

“You can do it, baby. Know you can, for me.” He continued, placing a gentle ghost of a kiss to your cheek. You nearly melted at the touch, and now that he had phrased it in such a way, you believed anything would be possible so long as the reward was his happiness. He was right—it wouldn’t take much at all to send you over the edge again, and if he continued to whisper the sweet words in your ear, you would be long gone before he even realized it.

You tried not to think about how good he felt inside of you, the stretch against him as he fucked you, how perfect his body fit against yours and how right it felt to be with him. It seemed like every time you let your mind linger on it, the pull of pleasure was too strong to resist, and you feared you might not be able to survive through another orgasm. Still, you felt it coming, your skin tingling as he continued to push you closer to it, little remorse in his heart.

“J-Jake,” you whined, your fingers gripping at the sheets as your burning cheek pressed against the pillow.

“That’s it, baby.” His tone was breathy, far away as he listened to the sound of yours. You knew him so well, even after so much time, and you could tell he wasn’t far behind you.

A particularly drawn out moan that sounded from behind you sent your body into overdrive, all of your nerves ignited with the same fire as before. Without warning, you cried out his name, your hands gripping the sheets to hold yourself steady as you felt the euphoric sensation begin to take over. This time, he couldn’t help but join you, the urge tempting him too greatly to dismiss. You felt his fingers on your skin, holding on to you just as tightly as you held the sheets, like the only grounding thing in the world was you.

Then, ever so gently, your name crossed his lips, softly and sweetly like he did not even mean to speak it aloud. The thought of you bringing him to such a state only furthered the ravenous feeling. You felt your walls clench around him, drawing him in further as he spilled his release into you. The climax was more intense than anything you had ever felt before, lasting long enough for you to beg for mercy, but you knew every second of it was meant to be cherished. Soon enough, he would be on a flight back to Nashville and you would be wishing for his company again, willing to give up everything just for a moment.

When you both came down from the high, Jake continued to rest inside of you as he gently laid atop of you, careful not to put too much weight on you but unable to resist the urge to be close with you. The warmth of his body sent you straight into bliss, your tired eyes and mind finally resting now that you were in his arms. Life felt good—it felt right. Being without him, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, always felt wrong. You were eternally grateful for his persistence and his never changing love for you. You were blessed beyond what many ever experienced from receiving his love alone.

The soft thud of his heart was soothing, his fingers mindlessly playing with the ends of your hair as he enjoyed the intimacy of the moment.

“There’s nothing else in the entire world that I want more than this, sunshine.” He whispered, his voice soft and tired. For a single moment, you felt selfish enough to want him to close his eyes and stay there with you forever, nothing to worry about other than sleep and the surplus of love in your hearts.

“Me either, Jake.” You confessed, feeling him slowly withdraw from you. He rolled onto his side, draping an arm over your waist as he pulled you into him. Turning towards him with a small smile decorating your lips, you hoped he knew how true it was.

“So,” he breathed, brushing your hair from your face so he could appreciate your beauty to the fullest extent “Is that it? Are we going to make this work?” You couldn’t help but laugh, a small giggle filling the air between you.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.” You nodded, your heart warm and your mind at ease. “I’m sorry I was so stupid. Just didn’t want to hurt you again.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He assured you, laying forward and placing a delicate kiss to your forehead. “If that’s the case—“ a mischievous smile sent your stomach fluttering with nervousness, but it was a feeling you had grown quite used to in his company. “Would you be my girlfriend, sunshine? Again? I promise we’ll do it right this time.”

“Think that goes hand in hand with making it work, don’t you think?” You teased, raising your hand to his face. You let your thumb trail over his cheek, trying to re-familiarize yourself with all of his intricacies.

“Never hurts to ask.” He let out a small chuckle, love shining in his eyes more than ever before, if it were even possible. “Is that a yes?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting to hear the words come straight from your mouth.

“Yes, Jake. I want to be your girlfriend… again.” You grinned, finding the words a bit silly considering you never once felt like you weren’t his in the first place.

Leaning forward and pulling you into a kiss, the enthusiasm in his action told you everything you needed to know about how happy he was to hear it.

As the two of you laid there, infinitely intertwined with each other in the very same bedroom it ended once before, you felt the world was beginning again—the birds were chirping, the flowers blooming, and the sun shining. The misery once housed within the walls had disappeared entirely, replaced instantly with all of the love you had held and locked up inside your heart for so long. The most precious part of it all was not the warmth within you, but the fact you knew he felt the same way, bright and shiny and new again, ready to start over and make up for the mistakes your younger selves made so long ago.

“Just because I’m leaving sunshine, doesn’t mean I want to let this go. I think you know by now, I’ll do anything to make it work. It’s gonna be hard, for a little while at least, but I promise we can figure it out.” He spoke slowly, carefully, like he was afraid to make a wrong move and ruin the progress the two of you had made. You wished you could assure him that it was alright, that you had grown up and calmed down, and that nothing could ever force you away from him again. You knew that words would not satisfy that fear, so instead you vowed to prove it to him, no matter how long it took.

“Me, too.” You hummed, your eyes heavy and ready for rest, feeling at home beside him. “Maybe back then the time was wrong, but you’re right. I found that box for a reason, and we’re here for a reason. The right decision isn’t supposed to hurt, and walking away from you hurts more than anything. I’m not letting you go again, Jake. I love you just as much as I did when I was eighteen, and I know it’s not going anywhere. No matter if you’re halfway across the world or right here beside me, this is worth fighting for.”

He did not respond, but his head on the pillow inched closer to yours, a silent show of agreement for all you had said. You had always been good at talking too much, and he was an expert in not talking enough, but it was a perfect balance for the two of you, only showcasing the million other ways the two of you equaled each other out. As silence fell between you again, comfortable and secure, you felt the heaviness of your eyes seep into your bones, weighing you down and melting you into the mattress below you. The softness of his breathing and the looseness of his arm draped over you let you know that he was succumbing to the same things, uncaring about anything in the world and just happy to be there with you.

And for the first time in a really long time, you didn’t care about a single thing, either. For the first time in a really long time, the tacky paint and the abhorrent pattern on your bedsheets, the creaky floorboards and the scent of lavender and vanilla, the chestnut dresser and the haunt of an overly familiar tune was not off putting to you—it was home again, and the credit could not go to the bones of the house, hidden behind plaster and drywall, nor the memories burrowed so deep within them or the familiarity of the place—it was because of him, the heat of his body and the steady rise and fall of his chest, loving you even amidst sleep, because it was the only thing he ever knew how to do.

If you had learned anything at all, it was that Jake always was and would forever be home to you, and that living would only ever feel right so long as he was there beside you.

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf @do-it-jakey-baby @gretavansara @jakesbeloved @woyayaofdreams @jakeyt @kiszkas-canvas @gracev0609 @josh-iamyour-mama @musicspeaks @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon @gvfmarge @takenbythemadness @fleetingjake @outlinedingold

If I’m missing anyone, please please let me know! After so many months and so much mess, my docs are a nightmare and I seem to have misplaced my taglist for melodic memories. i love you all, and thanks for sticking around 🤍

[velorvm]

heyy, i'm backk

did u miss me?? probably not LMAO BUT I MISSED YOU ALL SOO MUCHHHHH AHHHHHHHH

sorry for disappearing though, I had my reasons o7 but im back, even tho i should be gone for another month jfdslfkjds bc i wanted to post smth for mermay, and i was like, why not give myself a tumblr addiction for my bday LMAO

anway

🌟 new

changed username!! this change has been planned for long but i've never rlly found a cute one?? but here it is!!

🛠 fixed

finally got around to getting separate sideblogs for different things! it has been something that brought me some anxiety, as i was aware that my old blog was a mix of everything, which is not rlly a good thing? like, i was constantly worried that the stuff i post might be not what people signed up for dkjsfslkfgs

a proper tagging system! i tried several times to implement one, but tbh, it was inconsistent af dskjfsdlkf so, this time it's gonna work out for sure! i cba to suffer every time i wanna look for smth specific likeee

🚧 work in progress

with this new blog, im def gonna try and interact more with others! that has been like a weak point of mine bc i tend to get shy and anxious

and ofc, losing my inhibition of posting in general, bc it used to make me anxious, but now, with the separate blogs, im gonna try and not care dsklfjslfk (ofc im gonna care, but in a community sense, not with anxiety u know?)

🌱 coming soon

despite coming back, i'm technically still on hiatus bc i still got lotsa stuff to do! so, it might be slow dskljfdslkf (who knows how good i am at not being here LMAO)

adjusting again to this place and posting again in general bc i feel shyyyyy

a mermay fic is coming soon!! (for my bday, twirls hair) and i plan on working on my other wips once im free from the shackles of the real world sdkfjsdlkf

i can't believe i had to spend time without u all, i missed everyoneee soo muchhh <//3

lots of stuff happened, but lowkey, nothing bc i was stuck doing the same thing for,,,,,, quite some time. but, i weaned myself off from being chronically on tumblr (not online, bc, i'm nowhere but here LMAO), got to hang out with my friends even with our busy schedules, had a mock trial (the sheer drama in this one omg), read a lot of shoujo mangas, spent wayy too much of my funds towards the last lads banner, had to study abt freud (i hate him, and lowkey, we had the old exams and its the same, so it doesnt matter? lolol), discovered that my body is barely working (heavy iron deficiency with anemie, several vitamin defiencies, how do i exist omg), and for some reason my,,,, feelings towards fingers shoot through the sky (thank u shoujo and rafayel love and deepspace), discussed getting a pistol for my bday <3 (/JJJJ not killing myself yet) and cannibalism, and started one piece

[lbulldesigns]

Proof that Jinx Ziggs has a heart

I'm currently writing the first chapter of my Jinx!Ironman AU fic ❤️❤️❤️

I don't have an estimate of when it will be finished just yet because I keep going back and rewriting and editing as I go, but as soon as I finish I'll be announcing it here on Tumblr.

In the meantime, here is a list of character that I've come up with so far:

Powder "Jinx" Ziggs -

Jinx is obviously playing Tony Stark. There are some diversions from Tony Stark's character. For one, Jinx will still have her family and is a single mother to Isha. She is somewhat estranged from her family because of her busy lifestyle.

She also has a history of struggling with psychosis and is prone to auditory hallucinations but has made leaps and bounds in handling her condition.

Another diversion is that she built up her wealth independently, unlike Tony, who came from generational wealth.

Her company is called Jinx Industries, and even though her legal name is Powder, she prefers to be called Jinx.

She also prefers to go by her birth parent's names, because she's scared that their name will be gone forever if she doesn't go by it.

Isha Connie Ziggs -

Is Jinx's biological daughter, she was conceived by accident when her mother's gynecologist messed up their schedule and impregnated Jinx instead of inserting an IUD. Jinx used the settlement from suing the clinic to invest in her company. She also doesn't know who the sperm donor is, but that information will be coming to light later on in the story.

Jinx does what she can to keep Isha out of the public eye, for her own safety and to try and give her a somewhat normal childhood.

Isha absolutely loves her mother, and bugs ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Sevika Wafiya -

Sevika was a close friend to Felicia during her pregnancy with Jinx, and became Jinx's godmother when she was born.

She has been by Jinx's side her whole life, and they act more like sisters than mother and daughter. They are constantly butting heads. However, when Jinx needs advice or needs help cleaning up a mess, Sevika is who she'll go to.

When Jinx started her business, Sevika was the one to step in and help her get it up and running.

Her role in the company now is basically as a Jack of all trades. She runs the security in Jinx Industries, steps in and fills in for Jinx when Jinx isn't available such as when she doesn't turn up to claim an award or just decides to skip an important interview, and keeps things running smoothly alongside Lux.

When Jinx went missing, she organized for Isha to be sent to her family for safekeeping and got to work making sure that some of the more greedy board members didn't take Jinx's absence as an opportunity to grab the CEO seat.

She is loyal to Jinx.

Yasuo Hiraoka (I don't know Yasuo's full name in LoL, so I came up with one myself) -

Yasuo is Isha's personal bodyguard, Jinx hired him after a kidnapping attempt when Isha was four. Jinx and Sevika didn't play around with Isha's safety and sought out a former assassin to keep the little girl safe.

Yasuo is a very patient man and has developed a mild obsession with Animal Crossing. He and Isha play together often.

He is extremely protective of Isha.

Luxanna Crownsguard -

Lux is Jinx's personal assistant, she basically plays the role of Pepper Potts but isn't a romantic interest. Her and Jinx are best friends, and she is Isha's godmother.

Lux was disowned by her family for being an Inhuman and was given a job by Jinx, she takes her duties seriously and is one of the only people who can handle Jinx.

Vi Kirraman -

Vi is married to Caitlyn, and is a former Enforcer. She quit after a near death experience on the job and realized that she actually really hated her work and wanted to do something different with her life.

She opened her own gym that mostly caters to Enforcers, soldiers, MMA fighters, and so on.

She's currently working from home, due to reasons.

Caitlyn Kirraman -

Caitlyn is the Commander of the Twin City Forces and basically plays the role of Rhodey in this AU, she was previously an Enforcer but transferred over to the Twin City Forces when it was established as a means to draw Zaun and Piltover closer together.

She works quite a bit with Jinx, they used to be at each others throats but have somehow managed to form a solid friendship over the years. Caitlyn is Jinx's only real connection to the rest of her family.

She is career-driven and a bit of a workaholic but tries to make time for her family as they are extremely important to her.

When Jinx goes missing, she jumps right into action and is determined to bring her sister-in-law home to her family.

Mylo Lanes -

Owns several businesses in fashion, locksmithing, and even a dive bar.

He is currently single but is in the process of courting Gert, a DJ who works closely with The Chemical Sisters.

Claggor Lanes -

Is a botanist, who is working on improving Zaun's air quality using plants (much like his S2E7 AU self). He works closely with Ekko.

Claggor has his own daughter, named Cleo who is four-years-old. Cleo's mother is Sona Buvelle (I read a Star Guardians fic once where her and Claggor were sweet on each other, and just had to get them together for this one <3).

Sona Buvelle -

Is a virtuoso, and Inhuman. Who is engaged to Claggor Lanes, who she shares a four-year-old daughter with. She plays in the Piltover Grand Orchestre, on the high harp and grand piano, and is well renowned for her beautiful music.

Ekko Bennett -

Is Jinx's ex-best friend and ex-lover, they were never actually official but were close enough. They had a falling out due to miscommunication, and some meddling from Ekko's birth parents who thought knew what was best for their son, despite not being very present in his life. Due to this meddling, Ekko and Jinx had a falling out resulting in Jinx moving overseas, to Bilgewater, and cutting contact with Ekko.

When Ekko found out about the meddling he cut contact with his parents, and tried to get in contact with Jinx but it was too late.

He threw himself into his work in physics, engineering, and bio-engineering. He works tirelessly to improve the environmental status of Zaun with Claggor, and spends a lot of his free time working with the community and following Jinx's work even though he doesn't approve of her weapons manufacturing.

He suspects that Isha might be his daughter, and is pissed with Jinx for keeping him away.

There's still a bit more world-building to be done, but here are a few things to keep in mind:

The AU is set in Runetrra not Earth

Yordles, Vasteyans, Chireans, and other magical beings in LoL are citizens

Magic is a thing, but it isn't commercialized

Hex-Tech is a controversial technology

Piltover and Zaun are separate states but Piltover is constantly working on trying to merge with Zaun again

And, Vander and Silco's relationship is a great big question mark to everyone, they keep calling each other brothers but live together and raise four kids together and are always touchy-feely.

Anyhoo, this is what I have so far. I tried not to give away to much here because I want to leave some mystery for the actual story.

[kiyomitakada]

i realized i'm a fucking idiot and i can literally just post links to my dreamwidth fics on here instead of stressing about putting them all on ao3 so

dreamwidth fic masterpost

the vast majority of these are from moooonths ago so i dont know if i like them all anymore… but the ones i am fond of are marked with a *

also, these are all like, 100-1000 words max with very few outliers. the 3sf ones are even shorter because, you know, they are Three Sentences. so if you want tiny bites of fic here is your chance!

count: 20 kiyomisa, 19 lawlight, 6 yagamane, and 18 other :D

kiyomisa

yuri shipping olympics, round 1-4:

canon compliant dinner scene internal monologue (baby's first ever kiyomisa……………)

there's only one bed?! (*)

missing scene after the nye show (*)

how to send death threats in flower language (*)

snippet from the first kira!kiyomi au

round 5-8:

fake datingggg

how to send death threats on tumblr (*) (also on tumblr)

why are first violinists like that (*) (also on tumblr)

we are not making it out of the time loop with this one (*)

immortality elixir

mermaids… in SPACE!!!!! (*) (also on tumblr)

magic is just another word for fossil fuels

illegal karaoke

at the edge of the world

i made them act out the tempest by good ol bill shakespeare

100 words of them in a haunted hotel (*) (i still like this but be warned that it is truly fucking stupid)

vice principal kiyomi takada (*)

three-sentence ficathon:

i posted all my fills for 3sf under anonymous because i was feeling incredibly deranged realized that i should probably use a different screenname but did not want the effort of making a new account. i swear these are all me. honor code

lipstick (*)

three-way cheating, as you do (*)

dinner scene alternative ending (*)

lawlight

yuri shipping olympics:

edward vs jacob (baby's first trans girl light yagami…………)

sara berry au (as in, sara berry plays light and julie plays L. light and L are not actually in this fic. i don't know if this appeals to anyone but me)

face to face with i told you so (*)

dragonslayer (*) (also on tumblr)

high school lawlight, in an auditorium for some reason (*)

the good guys always win (*)

teleport to the backrooms. its backrooms time for you (*)

three-sentence ficathon:

i've got a list of names and yours is in red underlined (*)

in which light manages to call misa before she gets arrested (*)

playing > winning

are you dreaming of me?

resentful longing (*)

are these the eyes of a murderer to you

oh thank god my crush is a serial killer again

three grieving detectives in a trench coat (*)

audio drama light dies (*)

my jackass boyfriend is using me as a grocery pickup app

there is no moral; the forest is beautiful

werewolf cannibalism hell yeah (*)

yagamane (all three-sentence ficathon)

"your family hates me," misa's sobbing on the couch (*)

the drone could have been something other than a killing machine

some thoughts on misa and abuse (i fucked up the formatting on this one, you have to click the text "abuse cw and fatphobia" to see the first paragraph)

ok well MY kira logo was better

past the last exit (*)

parasitic (*)

other

yuri shipping olympics:

proto-ricochet (remisa)

possession au (remisa) (what if shinigami possession was like traditional taking-control-of-your-body possession)

three-sentence ficathon:

kiyomi is revered past death, sort of (kiyomi & halle)

the mortifying ordeal of being known (lawmane) (*)

in which light yagami is absolutely not sleep deprived (*)

in which soichiro volunteers for mock executioner (*)

sayu unrequited crush hours!!! (misayu)

misa & matsuda, post-canon (*)

sachiko & sayu, post-kidnapping

you can't kill me / oh, you knew? (remisa)

in which light is different from how kiyomi remembers him

he has my photograph doesn't he (meronia) (*)

in which misa notices sayu's crush on her

light/aizawa

light solo character study (burrito arc)

light solo character study no. 2

naomi lives au (naomi & light)

manga light/musical light (*)

[cruyuu]

Since the official art of them came out, I've seen some very hilarious takes about Yuuji and Sukuna. Some people coping HARD. "Yuuji is forcing him" Well gee, since when can he force Sukuna to do anything? Or is Sukuna that powerless against him? Even in Yuuji's domain, Sukuna didn't have to catch a damn crayfish or do archery, but he did, mind you all this happened BEFORE Yuuji said he could kill him (and even when this happened, he had support from Nobara). He's like, "ahggg fine I GUESS I can do this" lmao. In the official art, he's the one leading the dance. For what reason? Gege didn't have to draw them with their fingers intertwined, with Sukuna's arm around Yuuji's waist, and yet. Why have all this with the snow falling around them? (Yes the cat might be pandering, that's another valid reason) Right after we have the epilogue with Yuuji saying he still likes the snow and it's special to him?

"B-but he doesn't like Yuuji!" Well Sukuna called Yuuji by his full name when he was turning to dust. Have we forgotten that that's an indication that Sukuna respects someone/a sorcerer? Is it not significant going from "brat" to "Itadori Yuuji"? I'm guessing this does not apply to Yuuji then lmao. Also, I'm not saying Sukuna loves him or likes him like he loves, idk, fighting. But he at least recognized Yuuji. Another thing is that people forget that Sukuna usually says one thing and does another. Isn't this what Mahito implied? He literally called Sukuna a liar and he was like "Yeah so lmao". Their change/development is subtle, but it's there. Isn't the end of the fight an indication of this? Actually, Sukuna had an existencial crisis during this BECAUSE of Yuuji lol. For all his faults, I think some of Gege's strongest points in JJK are Yuuji and Sukuna. Sorry for the long rant btw!

Hi anon! Let me rant along with you!

I'm not on that app but I did see several posts here on Tumblr about how "there's suddenly so many skit shippers don't these ppl know that's a horrible ship" like bruh. Do you not realize Yuuji came from a brain inhabiting his mother's corpse? That Yuuji isn't even human? Are they not aware they're reading a work which isn't suitable for children?

Most are coping because sukuita is a problematic ship yet it's getting a lot of spotlight. Hell, Gege had drawn them dancing in the snow together on love day. "Yet they're related!! How could Gege :(". Well... they could lol. They clearly don't give a shit (and I say good for them!)

That's also the big issue to these ppl. Idk if they ship Yuuji with someone else and are mad that his "reincarnated uncle (grand uncle)" got the lovely romantic official art. Let's also not forget that Yuuji practically promised his forever to Sukuna. The finger that he's missing is literally the marriage finger. Am I to blame for that? Nope. Gege wrote it like that and I'm just pointing it out.

Dunno why that's stopping them from shipping their Yuuji ships. If canon's an issue, just focus on non-canon. No need to go shit on skit shippers lmfao

As for the arguments you've mentioned:

"Yuuji is forcing him"

Yuuji had also forced him to become so obsessed with tearing down his ideals and forced him to be in his close proximity while he's fighting him. He also forced him to call him brat and constantly think about him even while fighting others. The power Yuuji holds is, after all, that strong. He even forced him to change his own viewpoint and got him to hold his waist in that official art because he's now capable of using abilities which allow him to control Sukuna's actions. 👍

"B-but he doesn't like Yuuji!"

I think the right sentence is: he's obsessed with hating him so much so that it can't even be about hate anymore, it has to be that he's just in denial and that he loves him. There's a thin line between love and hate, after all. Who in their right mind spends so much time talking and thinking with delight about how someone-who-they-hate's abilities had improved? Who in their right mind changes their ways after their enemy confesses that they'd like to spend forever with them?

Their change/development is subtle, but it's there. Isn't the end of the fight an indication of this? Actually, Sukuna had an existencial crisis during this BECAUSE of Yuuji lol. For all his faults, I think some of Gege's strongest points in JJK are Yuuji and Sukuna. Sorry for the long rant btw!

Nice points and no need to be sorry, anon. It's hilarious how some ppl can't see it and are actively ignoring it lol. These two are tied to each other and are totally in love and to say otherwise is just ridiculous imo.

[glitterphilosophy]

Reasons why I would not have survived in 2014

Okay, so listen. I know all of us girls, me included, wish more than anything that we were teens during the 2013-15 girlblogger era. I'm 18, so in 2014 I was literally 7, and I never got the opportunity to be a Tumblr girl then, so I'm living my 2014 dream now! However, although i think I'm made for the 2014 life- living and breathing Tumblr, spending my days reading magazines and wearing cute pjs, pink everything and Victorias Secret, being my best most girly princess self- there are some things nowadays that I could so not live without! This post is to remind all the Tumblr girls how lucky we are to be here in 2025 (the new 2015) xx

1. Disney Plus- Disney Plus was only released in 2019! My favourite thing to do in the evenings is sit with a face mask and watch an old Disney movie. True Tumblr girls are obsessed with Disney, they were really missing out in 2014!

2. The bow trend- There are so many options for girly girls nowadays, I love that everything is covered in bows!

3. Stanley cups- Yall can hate all you want- I love my reusable water bottle. Mine isn't a Stanley, its another brand thats leakproof, with a metal straw and lid (and its way cuter imo), its baby pink and keeps my water cold for hours, I love it! I take it everywhere with me, it makes me feel so put together and like such a girly girl.

4. Skincare options- Tell me why abrasive sugar scrubs were normalised for the FACE in 2014? Everytime I watch old videos I am traumatized by their skincare routines, I honestly wonder what those girls look like now 😭 Even though I find the packaging kind of ugly, Byoma has done wonders for my skin, something I struggled with for so long! I couldn't live without clean skincare and my gua sha, honestly.

5. Clean girl makeup- 2010s makeup had its moment, and its beautiful, but matte makeup doesn't suit me at ALL. Some makeup I see thats insanely dewy or with loads of blush I don't love, but overall I much prefer a less heavy look with more cream products- those block brows were not doing me ANY favors.

6. Charlotte Tilbury- Kind of following on from the last point, there is something so VS angel about Charlotte Tilbury makeup. The packaging, the products, I'm OBSESSED. I love keeping my skin looking like skin, while still being cute!

7. Vogue Beauty Secrets- I don't know when these started, but the oldest ones I've watched are from like 2019. Theres nothing better than watching Vogue Beauty Secrets while getting ready in the morning!

8. Music- Don't get me started! Although I adore music from 2014 and before, 2016-19 was really where its at for me. I couldn't live without Thank U, Next, and some of my fav Taylor Swift songs only came out last year! Sometimes I just need to blast Brat to get through my day, and thats ok!

9. Ugg dupes- You can get them ANYWHERE, in so many styles too! I love my platform fluffy uggs and my ultra mini black ones as much as my regular real uggs, I would never have been able to afford so many options in 2014!

10. Heatless curls- My HOLY GRAIL. Was this a thing in 2014? I honestly don't know! I would not cope without my heatless curls set, not using heat on my hair has made it so healthy, and I look put together from the minute I get out of bed with basically no effort!

💐

[celaenaeiln]

C: Hi there! Even if I've been reading dick Grayson(and in turn batfamily) fics for a few weeks now, I've never actually watched/read DC stuff because even if I liked superheroes, I'm not invested enough to read the actual comics. The most I watched was the Teen Titans 2003 cartoon(which I love). I was brought into interest cause I was brought in through crossovers of other fandoms (which may be hated by some/many😅)

To give myself context, I tried to read around for Robin, and imagine my surprise there's more than one? Which, okay mantle thing I guess. But in the end, Dick Grayson caught my attention(not rlly for his looks and design, but more of his heroism and entire personality and affect in the DC world). Which leads to looking at other tumblrs and I love reading yours and when you answer the asks cause it's so much easier for me to understand the kind of person Dick is and how he interacts with the world.

Sorry for this long context, but I just want maybe your opinion, what if your opinion in the combination of how Dick Grayson should be written for him to Thrive

- Should he stay in Gotham, being in with the batfamily more? Soloing in Bludhaven? Staying with the titans? Or others?

- what about his romantic relationships? Who should be is one true one(based on canon gfs), or maybe stay single? (Just gonna be biased, but I've only knew about dickbabs and dickkory (but I heard he has other girlfriends and I've remember reading he was almost married...a few times??) but dickkory had always been for me)

- What about mentally wise? (Of course, I do think Dick needs a long vacation because of all the trauma that he has to go through), but even if I like the idea of Dick being admired for his looks because he deserves it, but I do rmbr posts that he is uncomfy with this(sexualisation, Def only staying true to the person he loves (then there's the whole...Tarantula and more thing)

Tbf, I do think is a little bit of all is what makes Dick, Dick. Haha

Sorry for the long ask, feel free to not answer because i just needed to get this out😅. I know it's actually bad I'm reading fics without canon knowledge for personality, but your posts makes me understand him more that I understand what's real and what's fanon in fics (that makes me..ugh.. but I read anyway for plot cause i don't know better)

But thank you anyway for reading this and I love your content!

(last one for this ask I swear: I've been seeing stuff where Robin name is actually Dick's mom calling Dick that. Then it's passed down as a mantle starting from Jason without Dick consenting. I tried to read at wiki, maybe I missed out but I can't find anything. Is it true? Does the other bats (except Bruce and Alfred?) know the actual meaning? Because as much as I love Dami, the whole bloodson, birthright to take the mantle of Robin beside Batman give me ugh feelings if it's true) :C

First of all, thank you so much!! I'm so happy to hear you like my stuff <333!!

I think it's fine that you started in the fandom since I sort of started out that way too lol. I had only watched Teen Titans Animated show and Young Justice before I got into fanfics and my first comic I ever read was actually Teen Titans (2011) which was Tim's run. It's been a journey.

Dick's personality was also what captivated me so here I am!

"Should he stay in Gotham, being in with the batfamily more? Soloing in Bludhaven? Staying with the titans? Or others?"

That's a really good question and a complex one. Ironically, for being such a people person, Dick seems to be doing best when he's by himself. When he's soloing, he has a sense of freedom and independence that he's been craving for a long time. The whole reason he left Bruce was because he felt like Bruce was suddenly treating him like a kid, like someone to look after, when he had been treating Dick like a partner the whole time. When Dick feels like his independence is being stepped on, it unsettles him. This is another reason why the Tom Taylor run and Dick's relationship pisses me off but that's for another time. As much as he likes Gotham, he loves Bludhaven. He thinks it's a dirty, crime-filled city, sure, but he loves it there.

He's a little crazy like that.

He doesn't have the same attachment to Gotham that Bruce does. Instead he feels that for Bludhaven.

The only reason I'm saying Dick is better off staying alone than with the Titans is because of his leadership mentality. There's a comic that I forgot the name of but Dick teams up with members of the Justice League and they trapeze through a jungle under the orders of this corrupt military general. He teams up with Arthur and automatically starts commanding people to which Aquaman tells him off, saying this isn't the Titans. Dick is genuinely sorry and backs off. For a minute. But immediately goes right back into command mode but Arthur lets it go, realizing that Dick's not conscious of it and that his behaviour is automatic. "Too many leaders" he calls the situation in his head. For Dick, the Titans have become a responsibility now. He loves them like crazy but they look up at him automatically for directions and order and he's gotten so used to leading them that it's his go to mode.

He just likes doing stuff without someone hovering over his shoulder or having to take care of others.

"what about his romantic relationships? Who should be is one true one(based on canon gfs), or maybe stay single? (Just gonna be biased, but I've only knew about dickbabs and dickkory (but I heard he has other girlfriends and I've remember reading he was almost married…a few times??) but dickkory had always been for me)"

Yeah, I've actually loved almost all of his romantic relationships. I hate Dickbabs but every other one has been fantastic. Kori was great for him.

Action Comics (1938) Issue #618

Dick says it again here. He used to envy Roy's freedom. He's also said in another comic that he fell in love with Kori for her freedom.

Secret Origins (1986) Issue #13

You're right, he has gotten almost married a few times

The first time was with Kori

The New Titans (1988) Issue #100

But then

The New Titans (1988) Issue #100

their pastor gets vaporised and body-controlled Raven feeds the soul of one of Trigon's children into Kori and she goes crazy but she recovers but it's a whole ordeal. In the end they don't get a chance to complete their marriage. They were spectacular together though. The only reason their wedding didn't go through is because the Batfam writers wanted Dick back so they took him from the Titans' writers and they needed a big dramatic scene to cut him off from the Titans. Another reason why Barbara was deaged and created as a love interest- to gatekeep him in the family.

He's also gotten married to Barbara before the retcon though.

Batman Family Issue #11

But here they were forced to by Maze and they went along with it and tricked him. At the end though, they just grab a bite to eat.

Ngl I actually would've supported this marriage. I really love this Barbara. Yes the age difference is a bit much but whatever, I still like them.

Dick and Barbara have gotten married in an alternate timeline.

Convergence: Nightwing/Oracle Issue #2

yeah, definitely didn't like this one.

Dick's also gotten fake married to a woman because Batman and Dick thought she was killing her husbands after marrying them so Dick married her to see if it was true.

Nightwing (1996) Annual #1

I liked her. She wasn't the killer and Dick did a fantastic job raising her son but even though she loved him, he didn't love her and they divorced amicably. I wish I could see more of her and her son though.

To be completely honest, my favorites for Dick are Kori and Bea.

Bea was a fantastic partner. She was understanding, loving, caring, and responsible. She was there when he was Ric Grayson and just loved him for who he was.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #53

If Kori's truly out of the picture, then Dick really should've settled down with her.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #57

She and Kori, they don't tell Dick what to do or who to be. They let him be free which is why I loved them an extraordinary amount. I'm a sucker for soft moments and Bea and Dick are couple goals.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #62

They give him the freedom he craves.

"What about mentally wise? (Of course, I do think Dick needs a long vacation because of all the trauma that he has to go through), but even if I like the idea of Dick being admired for his looks because he deserves it, but I do rmbr posts that he is uncomfy with this(sexualisation, Def only staying true to the person he loves (then there's the whole...Tarantula and more thing)"

I think Dick does need a break. His life has been a series of unfortunate events but despite all that, I think he loves it that way. Dick loves the thrill of adventure. It's the heart of who he is and why he became robin. The excitement he gets when fighting or doing crazy stunts - he loves all of it and that is his coping mechanism. I guess in order for him to thrive, Bruce needs to stop dumping all his trauma and stop expecting him to be there for him at all times of the day. Dick keeps getting dragged back to Gotham to take care of Bruce and his problems and he would go in a heartbeat but he's much happier wacking his own goons in Bludhaven. But since Bruce is so codependent on Dick, this pattern's not gonna stop anytime soon.

Truth be told I also like Dick being admired for his looks. I don't like him being called out by it though. First of all why would you comment "hot booty" to someone? It's degrading and humiliating even if you think it's a compliment. Some things are better left untold. But regardless of what people think, Dick will always be pretty and everyone in the DC universe knows this. Heroes, civilians, villains - they're all attracted to him on some level because he's so beautiful. And honestly? I'm all for it! Because that boy is the prettiest human in existence and he deserves that recognition. Just not vocally or physically.

The best thing is that Dick's beauty has no bearing on his mentality toward people. This man will choose one person and stick with them forever. He values intimacy and trust and love in his relationships which is why he's so attached to each one. This plays a massive role in his relationship with Kori. He would never cheat. Actually in all the future comics, after his spouse passes away or leaves, he never remarries. The only one exception was Batman Beyond (2016). The only one and he remarries Barbara after his wife passes away. Aside from that he remains a single parent. That's how dedicated he is.

"I've been seeing stuff where Robin name is actually Dick's mom calling Dick that. Then it's passed down as a mantle starting from Jason without Dick consenting. I tried to read at wiki, maybe I missed out but I can't find anything. Is it true? Does the other bats (except Bruce and Alfred?) know the actual meaning? Because as much as I love Dami, the whole bloodson, birthright to take the mantle of Robin beside Batman give me ugh feelings if it's true)"

Yup Dick's mother called Dick Robin.

Nightwing (2011) Issue #0

Robin (1993) Annual #4

Here's a couple but there are more instances of his mom calling him Robin.

Dick had no idea Bruce passed on the Robin costume. He finds out through the newspaper because Bruce is pissed at Dick. Like he's so mad that when he told Dick to leave, Dick actually left.

You know how there's a saying about not being able to take back words of anger? Bruce is feeling that heavily. He already had suspicions that Dick wanted to leave but before Dick could tell him, he fired him so he wouldn't have to hear those words. But Bruce is super mad that Dick left anyway. So what does he do? He makes the first boy he sees Robin.

And Jason finds out Dick was Robin when he confronts Bruce why Nightwing knows Bruce's identity. And that gets Bruce more mad because he's now feeling guilty which is when Dick comes to confront Bruce.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But instead of meeting anger for anger, Dick expresses his hurt. About how they were partners and then talks about his life after leaving Bruce.

And Bruce loves Dick. His best friend, son, brother, and partner for nearly 11 years. They raised each other and despite his anger, he smiles in pride and love.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Look at his smile!! He's so proud of his son.

And that's when Dick stops pulling his punches.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Bruce looks so wrecked. The guilt and sorrow is tantamount to his pain.

Then Dick asks Bruce why he choose someone new.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

So Bruce tells him. But Dick and Bruce's relationship go way deeper than just friends or family. They know each other. They revolve around each other so Dick calls him out.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And out comes the truth

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But Dick has always been the bigger man and instead of letting Jason become some sort of spite move, he turns Robin into a legacy.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He passes it down like it was meant to be passed down. Because let's be honest here. The Robin name and costume is Dick's. If he wanted to, he could've taken it back, Bruce be damned. And that was one of Jason's fears.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But despite Bruce's words to Jason

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He's not sure himself.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But it's only with Dick's approval that he becomes Robin which is what Bruce is thanking at the end.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And this has been a sort of tradition.

Dick approved of Jason being Robin, he endorsed Tim, and he made Damian Robin. The only exception being Stephanie. This is why Dick feels a heavy sense of responsibility over the robin predicament. He created the tradition. He approved, supported, and mentored every robin that walked in his colors and name. That's why he feels the burden of it.

I don't think any of the other robins know the meaning behind the name. Maybe they do. But ironically, the one who wasn't robin is the one who knows the meaning of it.

Duke.