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novaursa · 1 month

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The Flames We Share

- Summary: You tell your son the truth. He has more than the blood of dragons in his veins.

- Paring: Gwayne Hightower/targ!reader/Daemon Targaryen

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is Rhaenyra's younger sister and was bonded with Silverwing. These events happen right after The Blood We Choose. If you want to read all parts before this one in chronological order, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Word count: 5 198

- Tag(s): @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @sachaa-ff

The dungeons beneath Dragonstone were a cold, damp place, lit only by flickering torches that cast shadows that seemed to dance mockingly on the rough-hewn walls. The stench of rot and mildew clung to the air, seeping into the very stones of the fortress. Gwayne Hightower sat chained to the wall, bruised and dirty from his days of captivity, but his eyes were clear and resolute, fixed forward as he awaited what was surely his fate. His thoughts, however, were elsewhere—focused only on you, the woman he had risked everything for.

The sound of heavy boots echoed through the stone corridors, and he looked up as the iron door creaked open. Daemon Targaryen stepped inside, a predator’s smirk twisting his lips. He tossed a crumpled message onto the filthy floor in front of Gwayne’s feet. The black wax seal was unmistakable—bearing the sigil of House Hightower.

“Your father sends his regards,” Daemon drawled, a cruel edge in his voice. “He offers to trade his traitorous son for some stronghold I care little about. Imagine that—a worthless fortress in exchange for his even more worthless offspring.” Daemon’s eyes gleamed as he studied Gwayne’s reaction, searching for any sign of weakness.

But Gwayne’s expression remained stony. “You can say what you wish, Targaryen. My fate was sealed the moment I brought her to you.” His voice was hoarse but steady. “As long as Y/N is safe, I care not what becomes of me.”

Daemon’s lip curled in disdain. “Is that so?” He took a step closer, as if to loom over Gwayne. “Safe? You think she’s safe, having fallen from the sky, bleeding and broken? You think I would allow the woman who bore my son—my heir—to suffer any harm under my roof?” There was a dark gleam of possessiveness in Daemon’s eyes, as if the very notion of another man daring to care for you was an affront to his pride.

Gwayne’s gaze sharpened at that. “I want to see Vaeron,” he demanded suddenly. There was a tremor in his voice, a desperation that Daemon did not miss. “I want to speak with my son.”

Daemon’s anger flared at the insolence of the request. “Your son?” he hissed, voice low and dangerous. “That boy is a Targaryen—a dragon, not the product of some dishonorable tryst! Do you think I would allow him to be tainted by the shame of what you nearly brought upon my niece, siring a child on her without even the dignity of wedlock?”

Gwayne’s eyes darkened, yet there was a hint of mocking amusement in them as he stared up at the Rogue Prince. “And you believe yourself to be the righteous one? The man who slew his first wife in pursuit of power? Who consorts with whores while claiming the love of dragons? Tell me, Daemon, what makes you any different from me?”

Daemon’s smirk faltered, his face tightening with barely controlled rage. But Gwayne continued, his voice laced with bitterness. “She was denied to me—Y/N, I mean. If your brother had seen sense, had given her to me rather than feeding your ambitions, we could have avoided all this bloodshed. The boy would have been raised in Oldtown, under the guidance of both our Houses, and this war might never have happened.”

“Nothing could have prevented this war,” Daemon snarled, eyes flashing. “It was written in fire and blood long before you or I even took breath. But do not delude yourself into thinking you have anything resembling love, Hightower. What you claim as love is mere possession—an attempt to bind what you could never truly have.”

Gwayne’s jaw clenched at the words, but he did not respond. The two men stared at each other, the tension between them crackling like a drawn sword. Daemon took a breath, his composure returning as he straightened.

“I’ll have the boy brought to you,” Daemon said at last, his tone laced with scorn. “You may look upon him and see the life you were never destined to have. But do not forget—he is mine, and Y/N belongs to me now. She is a Targaryen, and you are nothing more than a failed traitor.”

With that, Daemon turned and strode toward the door. Before he left, he paused, throwing one last taunt over his shoulder. “Do not hope for mercy when your father trades you away like the pawn you are, Gwayne. Your life is worth little, even to those who should care most.”

The door slammed shut, leaving Gwayne alone in the darkness once more. But he did not feel defeated. Even with the chains biting into his wrists, he had no regrets for what he had done, for saving you and ensuring you were delivered safely to Dragonstone. In the end, it was not his fate that mattered—it was yours. Even in the heart of this cold, bitter place, the thought of you kept the warmth alive in his heart.

Because in the quiet shadows, despite all the titles and power Daemon clung to, Gwayne knew one truth that Daemon would never fully grasp—he loved you, wholly and without condition. And in his mind, that was a victory far greater than any throne or dragon could ever grant.

The soft crackle of the hearthfire filled the chamber, mingling with the scent of herbs and ointments from where Maesters had tended to your wounds. You sat by the window, Silverwing’s scales still etched into your memory, the pain a constant reminder of the battle you had narrowly survived. The healing was slow, but the bruises and cuts were nothing compared to the deeper ache in your chest. You weren’t sure what stung more—the death of your dragon or the desperate, foolish bravery of the man who had risked everything to save you.

A knock at the door broke your thoughts. “Come in,” you called, and the door creaked open to reveal Vaeron. The boy’s silver hair glinted in the evening light, and his blue eyes—so much like his father’s—fixed on you with concern.

“Mother,” he said quietly, stepping inside. “How are you feeling today?”

You smiled softly at him, though your heart ached as you looked upon him. “I am mending, sweetling. Stronger with each day.”

Vaeron nodded, yet his expression was troubled. He came closer, sitting on the edge of your bed, the worry in his eyes clear. “I heard… I heard Daemon talking about him,” he murmured. “The man in the dungeons—the one who saved you. Is it true he defied Ser Criston Cole and fled with you from Rook’s Rest? They say he’s a Hightower. An enemy.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. The boy was no longer the child you had once cradled; he was growing, his curiosity sharp and his mind keen. He deserved the truth.

“Yes, it’s true,” you replied, voice gentle. “The man who saved me is Gwayne Hightower. He… he betrayed his own kin, risked his life, and rode through the chaos to bring me here, to safety.”

Vaeron’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But why would he do that? Daemon says he’s just trying to make amends for his family’s treachery. That he’s nothing more than a desperate fool.”

You shook your head slowly. “It’s more complicated than that, my dear. Gwayne… he did it out of love, out of loyalty to someone who meant the world to him once.” You hesitated, the words heavy on your tongue. The truth was a blade you’d kept sheathed for too long, and it was time to draw it, no matter how much it might wound.

Vaeron looked at you expectantly, sensing the weight of what you were about to say. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, needing the touch to anchor yourself.

“Vaeron… the man in the dungeons, Gwayne Hightower… he is your father.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Vaeron’s eyes widened, the shock raw and unfiltered in his young face. He pulled his hand away, as if trying to distance himself from the revelation. “What?” he breathed out, voice barely above a whisper. “My father? But… Daemon… I always thought…”

You nodded, pain lancing through your heart as you watched him grapple with the truth. “Daemon has raised you as his own, and in many ways, he is your father. But you have another father, by blood, and that is Gwayne Hightower. You were conceived out of a moment we both knew would never be more than a fleeting dream. He wanted to marry me, to build a life, but—”

Vaeron shook his head, backing away as he struggled to process it all. “No,” he muttered, as if denying the words could somehow make them untrue. “Daemon’s always told me I’m a Targaryen, that my blood is pure, that I am his son, a prince of the realm. How could—why didn’t you tell me? Why now, when he’s chained beneath us like some criminal?”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them back. “I didn’t want you to bear the burden of that knowledge before you were ready. You were always meant to be strong, to carry the legacy of the dragons. But Gwayne… he isn’t just a Hightower, he’s the man who saved my life when no one else dared. Whatever his blood, he does care for you in his own way, even from afar now.”

Vaeron’s lips trembled as he stared at you, his confusion and hurt palpable. “I need… I need to think,” he stammered, turning abruptly and nearly stumbling over himself in his haste to leave the room.

“Vaeron, wait—” you called after him, but he was already gone, the door slamming shut behind him. The sound echoed in the emptiness of the chamber, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Your chest tightened with regret. You had known this moment would come eventually, but you had hoped it would be under different circumstances. There was so much more you wanted to tell him, so much more to explain. But for now, all you could do was hope that he would find a way to understand, to see beyond the conflict of bloodlines and names.

In that fleeting moment before he vanished, you had seen the storm raging behind his eyes—a storm you knew would not settle easily. And in that storm, you glimpsed the boy he had always been and the man he was becoming, torn between the truths that defined him.

But you could only wait, knowing that the choice between dragons and towers was his to make, even if it broke your heart in the process.

Vaeron’s footsteps echoed through the winding corridors of Dragonstone as he fought to steady his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a heavy drum drowning out the world around him. The truth his mother had just revealed rang in his ears like a cruel jest—Gwayne Hightower is your father. The words were a blade lodged deep in his chest, twisting with every thought, every doubt that now swirled within him.

He turned a corner, the air cool against his flushed face, and found himself in the dimly lit dining hall. The large table at its center was set for the evening meal, though the room was mostly empty save for one figure seated at the end, absently twirling a goblet in his hand.

Jacaerys Velaryon looked up, catching sight of Vaeron. His dark curls fell loosely over his forehead, and his brown eyes narrowed in concern as he took in his cousin’s strained expression. “Vaeron?” he called out, his voice low but filled with the warmth of kinship. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”

Vaeron stiffened, his gaze flickering away as he hesitated at the threshold of the hall. The weight of the revelation clung to him like a shroud, and for a moment, he wondered if it would be easier to bury it, to pretend that nothing had changed. But Jacaerys’ patient eyes, filled with genuine care, drew him in like a tether.

With a resigned sigh, Vaeron walked over and slumped into the chair opposite Jace, the firelight casting shadows on his troubled face. He didn’t speak for a moment, merely stared at the table as he tried to gather the words that had lodged like stones in his throat.

Jace leaned forward, the lines of worry deepening on his brow. “Vaeron, you’re scaring me. What’s happened?”

“I…” Vaeron’s voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before continuing, “I just learned something that changes everything.” He finally looked up, his eyes rimmed with uncertainty. “The man in the dungeons—the Hightower who brought Mother back from Rook’s Rest… He’s my father. My real father.”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in shock, his goblet nearly slipping from his grasp. “What? But—Daemon’s always—”

“I know,” Vaeron cut in, voice strained. “I thought Daemon was my father, too. I grew up believing I was his son, a true Targaryen. But Mother told me just now that Gwayne Hightower is my sire. I’m… I’m a bastard.”

The word hung heavy in the air between them, laden with shame and confusion. Vaeron felt his chest tighten again, the sting of doubt gnawing at him. What did that make him now? Was he even truly a part of this family? A dragon in name only, born of a union that should never have been?

Jacaerys’ expression softened as he saw the pain in Vaeron’s eyes. He set down his goblet and leaned closer, trying to find the right words. “Listen to me, Vaeron,” he began, voice steady and laced with a touch of empathy. “We’ve both been raised with more lies and expectations than most people could handle. But if anyone understands how it feels to question who you are, it’s me.”

Vaeron blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Jacaerys gave a rueful smile, leaning back in his chair as he stared into the flames. “I’ve heard the whispers, the taunts—people saying I’m no true Targaryen because of my questionable blood. They mock the fact that I don’t have silver hair or violet eyes, that I look more like a commoner than a prince. And sometimes… sometimes, I wonder if they’re right.”

The honesty in Jace’s voice caught Vaeron off guard, pulling him out of his own turmoil. He had always admired Jacaerys—his confidence, his sense of duty. He had never imagined that his cousin carried doubts of his own.

“But you’re still recognized as one of us,” Vaeron murmured, brow furrowed. “You’re still heir to the Iron Throne, still a dragon. No one would ever dare deny that.”

Jace nodded, but his gaze remained distant. “True, but that doesn’t erase the whispers. Even with the dragon blood flowing through my veins, I’ve always felt like I had to prove I’m worthy of the name Targaryen. But you…” He looked back at Vaeron, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You look like a Targaryen. No one would ever question your blood—silver hair—you were born a dragon, even if your father wasn’t one.”

Vaeron’s breath hitched at the kindness in Jace’s words. But it didn’t soothe the ache gnawing at his heart. “Does it even matter, Jace? If I’m truly a bastard, what does any of this mean? My whole life, I’ve been told I’m meant for something great, but now… now I don’t even know who I really am.”

Jacaerys’ expression grew firm, his voice taking on a rare edge of command. “It means you choose who you are, Vaeron. Blood alone doesn’t decide it. You were raised in this family, loved by your mother and Daemon alike. That is what makes you one of us. Not some Hightower who’s rotting in a cell.”

Vaeron’s throat tightened at the thought of Gwayne, the man who had defied his own House, who had thrown everything away to save the woman he loved. Did that make him worthy of being called a father? Could that kind of loyalty outweigh his bloodline, or was it too little too late?

“I need time to think,” Vaeron murmured, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… a lot.”

Jacaerys reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Vaeron’s shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, cousin. You’re not alone in this, alright? Whatever you decide, you’ll always have me and the rest of your family behind you.”

Vaeron nodded numbly, grateful for Jace’s support but still lost in the sea of confusion and emotions swirling within him. The questions gnawed at him relentlessly, leaving him torn between the man he had always believed himself to be and the truth that now threatened to shatter that identity.

The tension clung to the air in the dining hall like smoke, heavy and suffocating. Vaeron sat in silence after Jacaerys left, lost in the maze of his thoughts, unable to untangle the twisted knots of his emotions. His whole life had been built on one truth: that he was a Targaryen, son of Daemon, a prince destined for greatness. But now that truth had shattered, and he felt like a child cast adrift on a stormy sea, unsure of where to turn.

The sound of footsteps approached, measured and deliberate, and Vaeron looked up to see Daemon entering the hall. His expression was unreadable, though his sharp eyes missed nothing as they swept over Vaeron’s troubled face. For a moment, the prince said nothing, merely studying his son—his real son in all but blood—with a calculating gaze.

“You’re brooding,” Daemon finally said, his voice low and tinged with an edge of dry amusement. “A trait you didn’t inherit from your mother, I’d wager.”

Vaeron clenched his fists on the table, unable to meet Daemon’s eyes. “Everything I’ve ever known about myself is a lie,” he muttered, his voice thick with anger and confusion. “How am I supposed to believe anything now?”

Daemon’s gaze softened, but his voice remained firm. “You think this changes who you are?” he asked, stepping closer. “You think some whispered secret about your parentage wipes away the blood that runs through your veins? You are still a Targaryen, still my son in every way that matters.”

Vaeron’s eyes snapped up, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “But I’m not,” he insisted, his voice cracking. “I’m not truly your son, not by blood. I’m just… a bastard. A mistake.”

Daemon’s expression darkened, and he took a seat across from Vaeron, his presence commanding and unyielding. “Is that what you truly believe?” he asked, his tone both gentle and sharp. “That blood alone defines who you are? You were raised in the shadow of dragons, with the legacy of kings and conquerors shaping your every step. That is no lie. I’ve taught you, guided you, prepared you for the world because I chose you as my heir, not because of whose seed sired you.”

Vaeron looked away, struggling with the conflicting emotions swirling within him. “But… why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice a whisper now, tinged with the pain of betrayal. “All this time, you let me believe…”

Daemon sighed, his gaze growing distant as if recalling a memory long buried. “Because you needed to grow up without that burden,” he said quietly. “What good would it have done to burden you with a truth that might have only confused you, made you question everything? You were born a Targaryen in all the ways that matter. I’ve treated you as such, and so has your mother. That will never change, no matter who your true father is.”

Vaeron’s chest tightened at the mention of his mother, and he shook his head. “But now I know, and I can’t just pretend it doesn’t matter. That man in the dungeons… he’s the reason I exist, and yet he’s a stranger to me. How can I make sense of that?”

Daemon leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the wood. “Gwayne Hightower might be your blood father, but that doesn’t mean he has any claim over you,” he said with a hint of disdain in his voice. “He made a choice back at Rook’s Rest—one that I don’t entirely understand myself. He risked everything to bring your mother back here. Perhaps he thought it would redeem him somehow, or maybe he truly cared for her in his own way. Either way, he’s asked to speak with you.”

Vaeron stiffened at the words, his heart lurching in his chest. “He wants to see me?”

Daemon nodded slowly. “He does. He requested it, though he knows the choice is yours to make. I told him I’d send you, but the decision is yours. You can go to him, or you can ignore it and leave him to rot where he belongs.”

Vaeron’s mind reeled, torn between the curiosity gnawing at him and the fear of facing the man who had upended his world with his very existence. He shook his head, his voice trembling as he spoke. “I can’t. Not today. I don’t even know what I’d say to him… what I’d ask.”

Daemon studied him for a moment before nodding in understanding. “That’s your right. You don’t have to face him until you’re ready—if you ever are.” He reached out, placing a hand on Vaeron’s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “But know this, boy: whoever sired you, you are still my son. You bear the Targaryen name because I have claimed you as my own, because you were raised with fire in your blood. No man, be he Hightower or otherwise, can take that from you.”

Vaeron looked up at him, searching Daemon’s face for some trace of deception, but all he saw was the fierce loyalty and pride that Daemon had always shown him. For all his faults and ruthlessness, Daemon had been the only father Vaeron had ever known. And in that moment, the boy clung to that truth like a lifeline.

“Thank you,” Vaeron murmured, his voice small but filled with genuine gratitude. “I just… need time. To sort through it all.”

Daemon’s lips curved into a rare, almost affectionate smile, one reserved for the few he held dear. “Take all the time you need,” he said quietly. “But remember, you are a Targaryen, and no truth will ever change that. Not in the eyes of those who matter.”

With that, Daemon rose from the table, giving Vaeron a final nod before turning to leave the hall. Vaeron watched him go, the conflicting emotions still swirling in his chest, but there was a newfound clarity in his heart. The path ahead was clouded, and the shadow of Gwayne Hightower’s existence hanged over him like a specter. But for now, he knew where he stood—with the family that had shaped him, that had loved him despite the secrets and lies.

But deep down, in the quiet recesses of his mind, he knew that one day he would have to face the man who had saved his mother and who claimed the title of his father. Just… not today. Today, he would hold on to the identity he’d always known and trust that, in time, he would find his way through the tangled web of blood and loyalty.

For now, he was still Vaeron Targaryen, son of Daemon—trueborn or not, dragon or not, he was still a part of the legacy that burned brightly in the heart of House Targaryen. And that was enough to anchor him, at least for tonight.

The corridors beneath Dragonstone were dark and damp, the oppressive chill seeping into Vaeron’s bones as he made his way toward the dungeons. It had been a week since his world had been upended, a week of wrestling with the truth of his parentage. He had tried to push it aside, to focus on the training sessions with his cousins, the books his mother insisted he study, the words of comfort from Daemon. But every night, when the candles burned low and the castle quieted, the thought gnawed at him: if he didn’t face the man in the dungeons, he would never truly understand where he came from—or who he was.

So here he was, descending deeper into the belly of the fortress, the iron doors looming ahead. A guard nodded and stepped aside, allowing him entry. The door creaked open, revealing the shadowed cell where Gwayne Hightower sat slumped against the cold stone wall, chains rattling faintly with his every breath.

Gwayne’s face was bruised and gaunt, the days of imprisonment leaving their mark on him. But his eyes, so strikingly similar to Vaeron’s own, flicked up the moment the boy entered. Surprise and something softer—something like hope—flashed in his gaze.

“Vaeron,” he murmured, as if testing the name on his lips. “You came.”

Vaeron stood just inside the threshold, tension thrumming through his body. He wasn’t sure what he had expected—anger, indifference, desperation? But all he felt was a tangled mix of emotions that refused to settle.

After a long silence, Vaeron finally took a few steps closer, his voice tentative as he asked, “How could I not? I had to face you… or I couldn’t live with myself.”

Gwayne’s expression softened, a flicker of pride and sorrow crossing his face. “You’re braver than most would be in your position,” he said quietly. He shifted slightly, wincing at the pull of his wounds and restraints. “How… how is your mother? Is she recovering?”

Vaeron’s heart tightened at the genuine concern in Gwayne’s voice. Despite everything, despite the shame and anger swirling within him, he could not deny the sincerity of the man’s question. “She’s getting better,” Vaeron replied, a hint of guardedness still in his tone. “But her injuries are still bad. The fall from Silverwing was…” His voice trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Gwayne nodded, his jaw clenched as if in shared pain. “She’s strong. She always has been. I knew if I could just get her here, she’d fight her way back.” His voice grew hoarse with emotion, and he averted his gaze for a moment before looking back at Vaeron. “Thank you for telling me.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint drip of water echoing through the dungeons. Vaeron swallowed the lump in his throat and finally spoke the question that had been burning in him since he decided to come here. “Daemon says you’re a traitor,” he said, his voice low but unwavering. “That you can’t be trusted, that you’ve betrayed your family and your House. But… you saved my mother. You risked your life, your honor, everything.”

Gwayne’s expression didn’t change, but something deep and resolute flickered in his eyes. “Daemon’s right—I am a traitor to my own kin, to my House. I turned my back on everything I was raised to uphold. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

The simple conviction in his words struck Vaeron like a blow. He could see the truth of it written in every line of Gwayne’s face, in the quiet determination that had driven him to this point. Vaeron wanted to challenge him, to demand answers, but instead, he found himself asking, “Why?”

Gwayne’s lips curled into a faint, sad smile. “Because she was worth it. Your mother was worth more than any loyalty to my House, more than any honor I might have clung to. You see, I loved her long before any of this war came to pass. I wanted to marry her, to build a life with her, but your uncle, King Viserys, had other plans. When she was given to Daemon, I knew my place would only ever be on the outside, looking in.” He paused, eyes darkening with the weight of old wounds. “But that didn’t change how I felt. When I saw her falling in battle, when I saw Silverwing plummet… I didn’t think about anything else. I just acted. I’d rather be a traitor and live knowing I saved her than be a loyal man and watch her die.”

Vaeron’s chest tightened, torn between resentment and reluctant understanding. “You say that like it was noble, like it justifies everything. But it’s still treason. You abandoned your family. You betrayed your own.”

Gwayne’s expression grew more serious, his voice a low rumble in the dim light. “Yes, and I will face the consequences of that. I know what I’ve done, and I’ve made my peace with it. But you must understand, Vaeron—whatever Daemon tells you, whatever anyone says—you are my son. I know I have no right to claim you, not after all these years, but it doesn’t change what you are to me.”

Vaeron felt the words hanging in the air like a challenge, daring him to acknowledge the bond that existed between them, even if he wished it didn’t. He looked down, his fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t know what I am,” he admitted, his voice strained. “I was raised to believe I’m a Targaryen, that I’m Daemon’s son. Now everything feels like a lie. How can I be both?”

Gwayne’s gaze softened, the hardness of his demeanor giving way to something almost tender. “You are both,” he said quietly. “You were raised as a Targaryen, with all the fire and pride that comes with it. That is a part of you. But you’re also my blood, whether you like it or not. And you get to decide what that means for you.”

Vaeron’s mind spun with conflicting emotions—anger, guilt, a flicker of something like pity. He wasn’t sure if he could ever see Gwayne as his father, not in the way Daemon had been. But he couldn’t deny that the man who sat before him had risked everything for his mother, for the chance to protect her even when all seemed lost. And for that alone, he couldn’t simply dismiss him.

After a long silence, Vaeron finally shook his head. “I can’t face you—not today. There’s too much I don’t understand, too much I still need to figure out.”

Gwayne nodded, accepting the decision without protest. “I won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give,” he said softly. “But know that I’m here, for as long as they allow me to draw breath. And whatever choice you make, whatever path you choose—I will always be proud of you.”

The words stung, leaving Vaeron with a raw ache in his chest. He wanted to respond, to say something more, but the weight of everything—his own confusion, the war, the fractured loyalties—was too much. He turned abruptly, leaving the cell without another word, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of conflicting emotions.

As he walked away, the echo of Gwayne’s voice lingered in his mind, a reminder that some truths, no matter how painful, couldn’t be ignored forever. But for now, he needed time to reconcile the man he had always believed himself to be with the truths he couldn’t yet fully accept.

And so, Vaeron returned to the world above, leaving the man who called himself his father to the shadows, knowing that one day—perhaps too soon—he would have to confront the reality of who he truly was.

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #gwayne hightower #ser gwayne #gwayne x reader #gwayne x you #gwayne x y/n #silverwing #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x y/n #daemon x you #hotd daemon #daemon x reader #hotd gwayne #hotd x reader #hotd

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hoejosatoru · 3 months

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Suo likes teasing you under the table when you’re out with his friends <3

A gasp escapes your lips as your boyfriend’s fingers slip under the hem of your skirt, brushing against your clothes cunt. You look at him, but his face is neutral, calm.

“Everything okay?” Nirei asked, noting the flustered look on your face.

“Yeah I’m f-fine,” your voice caught as Suo pushed your underwear aside. He pressed on your clit, making you shift in your seat.

“Are you sure?” Suo asked, a teasing undercurrent to his voice. “You’re a bit flushed.” He gave you a slick smile, one that would look normal to Nirei and Sakura. But you could read into it, heat pooling in your tummy as you realized what he was planning.

“It’s just hot in here,” you replied, as calmly as you could. Too calm for Suo. He slipped a finger inside you, feeling the wet warmth of you suck him in. A smirk played at his lips. You were enjoying this and he was absolutely going to tease you about it later. But you didn’t care, you just wanted to be the good girl you knew he wanted you to be.

“Feels cool enough me,” Sakura commented. Suo was curling into your g spot now, making it hard to breathe normally.

“Did you hear about the fight Sugishita got into recently?” Suo asked casually, as if his fingers weren’t buried inside you. It made it hotter, somehow, the way he was fucking you with his fingers while carrying on a totally normal conversation with his friends.

Suo turned things up a notch, pressing his thumb into your clit. You gripped Suo’s thigh, trying to steady yourself. His eyes flickered over to you briefly, drinking in the sight of you trying so hard not to cum all over his fingers in front of his friends. Too bad that is exactly what he wanted to do.

“Are you sure you’re okay, y/n?” Nirei questioned again, eyeing you skeptically. You were certain you looked a little crazy. Flushed, breath ragged, on edge.

“I-I’m ff-” you pretended to clear your throat to stifle a moan. “Fine. Just a little thirsty.”

“Here baby, have my water,” Suo slid you his glass. You obliged, happy to have something to occupy your mouth. Suo, of course, used the opportunity curl his fingers faster into you. Water dribbled down the side of your mouth as you tried not to cry out. “Careful, you’re getting yourself wet,” Suo teased, his voice syrupy.

It was all too much, Suo playing with your cunt, his words that were dirty to your ears only, his friends watching, oblivious, but one wrong move from catching you. Suo sensed you were close and rubbed harder circles over your clit.

You tilted your head down, biting your cheek to prevent yourself from moaning as the pleasure surged through you. You couldn’t hide how your orgasm shook your body as your pussy fluttered around him.

“Jeez, I really don’t think y/n is okay,” Sakura huffed, “you should really take her home.”

Suo grinned, “That’s a great idea”

#need suo being a shit head tease now #suo hayato #wind breaker smut #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #suo hayato smut #suo hayato x reader #wind breaker x y/n

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certifiedbueckethead · 4 months

Text

concert confession﹒⪩⪨﹒

paige bueckers x teammate! reader

warnings: eating out, fingering

word count: 3.3k

a/n: it’s been a bit since I last posted a ff but here goes nothing I guess ;-; feel free to send me any requests and maybe I’ll post more - inspired because im seeing Bryson this weekend <3

readers pov

You take a step back in front of the mirror in your shared dorm with your roommates Azzi and Kamorea. You had on a lacy, black corset and a tight black leather skirt and a pair of those cute heels, that have the pretty strings going up your leg- also black. You may ask, what’s the occasion? Well, you’re going to your first concert. As roommates, you got lucky since both Azzi and KK know how to do hair and makeup, which you weren’t gifted with. But, you had all the cute clothes, so you all helped each other out, and honestly - who knew a bunch of college basketball girls could look so hot because you guys really did look good.

“I am so glad we convinced you to come along with us y/n because you look so fucking good.”, Azzi says, taking a picture of the three of you in the mirror. KK hummed in agreement before getting the shot glasses and setting them on your dresser. “Okay, how about we do three here and we can have some in the car ride there.”, you say and the girls were far from opposed. You didn’t want to get too far gone, especially since this is a concert to remember. You loved rnb music a lot, it was your favorite genre - making Bryson Tiller one of your top artists.

You all finish your shots, taking a few more photos together and you run to your uber that you ordered a few minutes prior. “No way.”, you say in the car - staring at a message on your phone. You had posted a picture of your fit on your story on Instagram, with some text saying “bryson tn <3”. Not only did your crush like the story, but she had responded to your story too.

pbuecketz

hey, didn’t know yall were going to the concert tn, you should’ve told us

st3rg1rl (y/n)

who’s us?

pbuecketz

me, ice, nika, and aubrey

let’s meet, it’s all floor tickets anyways

Your roommates take your phone and read over the short conversation. “Yeah we knew Paige was coming, but if we told you, we knew you wouldn’t-”, KK started, before stopping to watch you down the small plastic bottle you had filled with soju.

If Paige was going to be here and you looked this good, you couldn’t waste it being in your head. You had to shoot your shot. Liquid confidence can’t hurt anyone. Maybe that’s just the alcohol speaking. Your thoughts are silenced when the uber driver pulled up, a full block from the venue, like you had requested.

You all quickly thank the driver and get out, drinking the last of the small bottles of alcohol you brought, fixing your clothes and checking your makeup.

The walk to the venue was nice, it was a cool night and since it’s May, it’s not too hot but during the evenings it’s the perfect temperature. Azzi teases you about Paige, showing you her stories on instagram with her fits - since you refused to look at them. “AZZI, STOP SPOILING THE GOODS”, you say to her, flipping her off. Getting into the venue was fine, you showed your tickets and ID since there was a bar. You all knew this prior to arriving, but why pay for overpriced water downed alcohol when you could just pre-game. But the pre-game has gotten to your small group of friends, since you all were smiley, giggly and not making much coherent sense. At security when checking in, you all tried your best to be the mature adults you were.

It was a bit early, 8:17 pm and the event didn’t start until 8:30. You drag your girls to the bathroom, and ask for a pep talk. “Y/n, you’ve liked her for 3 fucking years, if you don’t do something about it then it’s your own fault.”, Azzi tells you, rubbing your arm. “You look hot, Paige would have to be straight as a fucking ruler if she doesn’t have her eyes on you the whole night.”, KK tells you and you look in the mirror and fix your lip liner.

“You’re Y/n, uconns second best player, right behind Paige. You look hot tonight, and you can do this.”, you mumble to yourself as you follow your girls out the bathroom and the find some of your other teammates and you all find a good place, near the stage.

“You look way better tonight in person, your story didn’t do you justice mamas”, the girl you were nervous the entire way to the venue said, standing right in front of you. Something was different tonight, something felt different but you couldn’t put your finger on it - maybe it was the alcohol messing with you again but you go for it.

“If I knew you were coming tonight, I would’ve put some more effort in - you’re a tough girl to impress.”, you respond. It’s true anyways, she was hard to impress. It wasn’t the first time you’ve worn something like this, or just about done anything for her to say something like this.

The concert starts, and the team is taking selfies with each other to capture the moment, and of course KK is on live with Ice and Azzi, streaming the concert and you, Nika, Aubrey and Paige are singing along and taking videos. You glance at Paige, and admire how she looks. She didn’t have to wear much makeup to look so gorgeous, she wore black dress pants and a black crop top, matching your vibe - unintentionally of course. As the concert progresses, you feel the alcohol start to ware off, and though you didn’t want to waste money at the bar, you end up going to the back and getting a drink. You still had to shoot your shot, which you still had no clue what you were going to do.

Then it hits you, you knew what to do. You get another quick shot of soju, down it and make your way back to your friends. “Hey guys, I gotta use the bathroom anyone wanna come with.” you say to them, and luck is on your side because the very girls at the concert with you all know about your 3 year crush on Paige, and they let her answer. “Yeah, I gotta go too.”, Paige says, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the crowd.

Azzi and KK shoot you a look as you get dragged through the crowd and you feel your face heat up. When the two of you get to the bathroom, Paige actually goes to the bathroom and you bend over slightly over the counter and fix your eyeliner. Nodding along with the music, mouthing the words, Paige comes out of the stall, and you can see her checking you out.

Perhaps, you might have bent over slightly more - of course you won’t admit it but this has to work somehow. Paige washes her hands and then sits on the counter. It’s just you two in the bathroom, so quiet enough to have a conversation over the loud music from behind the door.

“I didn’t know you liked Bryson.”, Paige says, watching you reapply your lip gloss. “I could say the same thing about you Paige, don’t you mostly listen to gospel?”, you say to her, teasing - you are familiar with her music taste since she often has aux at practice. “Hey, don’t even start, you listen to Taylor Swift.”, she says, laughing but not taking her eyes off of you. “Paige, stop doing that.”, you say, getting frustrated at her. For 3 full years you’ve liked this girl, and she’s never noticed and it’s quite obvious. From all the cookies you’ve baked for the girl, the light night calls while playing fortnite, the ice cream cheer ups after a rough game, you spent a lot of time with her, just her.

“Doing what.”, she says, getting off the counter and facing you. Usually, you wouldn’t be able to be so honest but it came so easily when you’ve drank over your limit. “Come on Paige, I like you and you act like you could care less. It’s painfully obvious, but you’d rather keep me on the back burner right? You’d rather be in my arms crying over a girl you’ve got too close too who was supposed to be a casual hookup, countless of times, then even give me a fucking try.”, you say to her, your voice not even wavering at the accusation that just spilled from your lips. Paige reaches for your hips, pulling you closer and not letting her hands falter, but just rub small circles on the bone. “Y/n, you know it’s not like that.”, she says, avoiding eye contact.

“No but it is Paigey, it really is and I can’t keep waiting for something you won’t even acknowledge, let alone for something to happen.”, you say, resting your forehead on hers.”Y/n, I mean it, it’s not like that.”, Paige says, in almost a whisper. “Then what is it like,”, you say in return. You take a step back, and a deep breath. Preparing yourself for the answer you’ve waited years for. “Y/n, you’re like this super talented athlete, who spends all of her time devoted to her school and her sport and I am here just as this girl who just sleeps in others beds every other night and yeah, I’m fucking good at basketball too. But to you it comes effortlessly, and you know what you want, you have this big plan for your future of everything. Down to the name you want your fucking cats when you graduate. You deserve more than me.”, Paige says to you, her voice breaking and her back against the counter.

“One try, okay? Give me one try, and I can show you why you are what I deserve. You are so gifted and your sport will take you places. Sure you do have some labels at school, but those don’t reflect the Paigey I know, the real you.”, you tell her, suddenly feeling bad for the ambush. You reach over for her hands, and hold them gently before placing soft kisses on them.

“I only fucked all those other girls to try and get over you y/n, it wasn’t me crying over the fact I got too close to any of them, it’s just none of them were you.”, Paige confesses to you and all you can do is bring her into a hug. The answer you were so scared to hear all this time, it was so simple. Maybe this could’ve been easier, if you said something sooner.

The two of you return back to your group of friends, holding hands and you enjoy the rest of the concert. You all take photos for Instagram and call ubers to get home. “Guys, lets all sleep over at Aubrey’s and Paige’s.”, KK says, and the team all agrees but you get on your tippy toes, and whisper to Paige, “I want some time with you alone tonight if it’s alright.” She nods her head, trying to not make anything obvious as the group was walking to the door. You call a separate uber, and as everyone else is getting in the cars called a bit earlier, Paige says, “Hey, Y/n had too much to drink, I’ll meet you all at the house, I just want to make sure she gets back okay.”

Of course everyone believes what Paige says, because they knew you were in love with the girl not the other way around. When the two of you arrive at your dorm, you tell her to excuse the mess and she just laughs. “Y/n, trust me you guys could not be anymore messy then me and Aubrey.”, she says, as you walk in. Now that the two of you are finally alone, you pull Paige into a tight hug, feeling her warmth and embracing her smell - a mix of old spice and ariana grande’s cloud perfume. You feel her breathing, slow and deep as she hugs you back. “You good mamas?”, she whispers and you hum in response.

You slowly let go of her, and you make your way to your bed. “Paige, can I ask you something?”, you say to her and show follows you to the bed, sitting right next to you. “What’s on your mind?”, she says, not taking her eyes off of you.

“You know…I haven’t you know. Lost…. Uhm, you know, lost it yet.”, you say to her quickly, avoiding her gaze. She laughs lightly, “Yes, y/n I know that already, what about it?”. “I’ve always wanted it to be you.”, you tell her, bluntly. It’s true, you’ve had offers before, you’ve had people confess to you plenty of times, but you’ve waited for Paige. You needed it to be Paige.

“Yeah, and why is that?”, she say, gently turning your face towards her and leaning in closer. “Because, with you, it’s real.”, is all you can say before giving into the space left between the two of you. You kiss her, and it’s far from what you expected it to be. Her lips tasted like her cherry lip balm, but the kiss itself. It felt so good, and before you know it, Paige is kissing you back needily, and pulling you into her lap, setting her hand on your lower back. You pause to breathe finally, and there is a single string of saliva connecting your lips together. But Paige doesn't waste her time. She moves her hands to your waist, and kisses your neck gently while untying your corset top. “This okay ma?”, she whispers against your skin. “Mhm, Paige I trust you, I want this.”, you tell her. Looking up at you she says, “At any time you want to stop please tell me okay?”, and this is the reason you’ve fallen in love with her in the first place. She is always so gentle and caring with you, and knowing she felt the same way this is what you wanted.

Paige gets off your bed and kneels in front of you, helping you take off your top and pulling down your skirt. Admiringly, she stares at you - as if she’s never seen the body of another woman before. You bend a bit down and kiss her lips, feeling vulnerable to be this naked in front of someone. She returns the kiss and places her hands against your chest, rubbing her thumbs against your nipples and you can’t help but whimper into her mouth quietly. She leaves one of her hands on your chest while the other slowly slides down your bare and cold body, rubbing between your thighs. You widen your thighs because you know you want more, you need more of her. Paige takes the hint and stands up and pushes your back against the bed. Before getting on top of you, she takes off her shirt revealing her defined abs. God… she looked so fucking hot and she isn’t even doing anything. She removes her sports bra and her pants, leaving her just in her boxers. She goes back to appreciating your body, kissing and sucking on every inch of your neck, your collarbones and your breasts. Circling her tongue around your nipples, you feel yourself weaken. You want her to make you feel even better and in a small voice you tell her, “Paige… please just make me feel good.”. Kissing your forehead gently and tucking your hair behind your ears, she moves down and gently rubs between your folds, feeling the slick that’s accumulated from her previous advances. It’s clear how needy you were for her and it was embarrassing to you.

But Paige made it known it turned her on because she groans at the sight of your wetness coating her fingers, she takes her own boxers off and latches her tongue onto your clit. You are so entranced in the feeling of her sucking on you that it takes you a while to realize that she is using her own fingers, that were wet with your slick, to finger herself while she pleasured you. It was so hot to see, you close your eyes from everything that was presented with you. You feel Paige moan against your dripping wet cunt, wet from your slick and her saliva. You get greedy, and want more, yearn for more so you start rolling your hips against her face.

“Oh my fucking god… paige, paige, please, oh my, fuck just like that, please, ah oh my god, keep going.”, was all you could get out as you took one of your hands and collected some of her hair and shove her against your cunt, wanting even more. You’ve touched yourself to your own dirty thoughts of Paige before, but you could never have imagined it was this good. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, and Paige notices too and she takes her own fingers out of herself.

“Sweetheart, can you get on your knees for me please?”, she says, in such a loving tone you felt compelled to not even question what she was going to do. You get up and do as your told, and Paige slides one of her fingers into you, letting you get used to it.

Letting out a few desperate moans, Paige slides a second finger into you knwoing you could take another and begins to curl her fingers up inside you. And that is what just about does it for you. “Oh my pretty girl, how does it feel, can you tell me how it feels please angel?”, Paige asks you, using her free hand to caress your waist while her other hand does what only exists in your dirty thoughts and dreams.

“Paigey, oh so good, more please, fuck me more.”, is what you tell her, feeling your face redden even more. You widen your legs, spreading out your ass for her and pull your plushie into your arms. Paige listens to you, wanting it to be the best first time you could ever be given. She shoves three fingers into your throbbing cunt and you moan into your plushie only dirty things. Whispering in your ear, Paige says, “let me hear what I’m doing to you my love, you sound so pretty for me, it’s only right I get to hear.”, and you let out a few more moans, getting louder the harder Paige curls her fingers into you.

It was getting overwhelming, having your wetness drip down your thigh but knowing that Paige was taking care of you so good, just the way you’ve wanted turned you on more. It felt like a dream. Before you know it you’re spurting out cum against Paiges fingers, and she doesn’t waste a minute to lick her fingers and eat you out from behind to get everything. The overstimulation was driving you insane, and Paige removed herself from your cunt, leaving a gentle kiss on it. You lay on your back and Paige is quick to pull you into her arms, and placing the covers over the both of you.

Your forehead is sweaty, making your hair stick to it and Paige tucks your hair behind your ears neatly and kisses your forehead, your cheek and then your lips. “Did I do good for you mama?”, she says, and suddenly the vulnerability you thought only existed in your previously virgin self, you realize she wanted to know if she did good enough for you. “Uh huh, just like I’ve dreamed of, only better.”, you tell her, placing your head against her chest and encapsulating her smell. “I’m so glad I could do that for my girl.”, she tells you and you feel yourself drift off to sleep.

All the previous anxiety of everything that existed between the two of you has gone away and you feel at peace in her arms. You are sure you can prove to her she deserves you, and that you deserve her.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball

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amourcheol · 1 year

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the great war | (teaser)

❝Because the greatest war Seungcheol had ever waged was against your heart.❞

historical! au | enemies to lovers! au | smut, fluff | approx. 30k words

s u m m a r y : there was only one thing you hated more than your restricted life, and that was choi seungcheol—the greatest venetian general who has ever lived. when a marriage is arranged between the two of you, you were sure it would end in bloodshed. however, as you and seungcheol are forced to attend balls and share a few hard truths, you realise you have more in common with the mysterious general than you thought.

c o n t e n t : military commander! seungcheol, noblewoman! artist! mc, artist! minghao, artist! soonyoung who are both annoying (affectionate), cheol and mc absolutely hate each other because i need to see proper e2l, cheol is the hottest man who ever lived, he also has a scar on his lip (yes this needs a separate warning), this is set in renaissance venice so there will be artist references, the doge = basically ruler of venice, themes of sexism, constant arguing between mc and cheol, there is fluff, also angst ofc mature warnings -> tons of sexual tension, making out fuelled by hatred, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (only because medieval contraception is vile), cheol says some very vile things during the deed, very slight corruption kink

p l a y l i s t : dangerous woman by ariana grande || war of the hearts by sade || love is stronger than pride by sade || i don’t understand but i luv u by seventeen

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @just-hear-to-read-01 @cherrycheolcoups @jeonwonwooscutie @i-dont-give-a-fok @mystikha @xcynthiaaa @ckline35 @enthralled-bandit @urfavtallgirl222 @swimmingkpopblog @areumyang @geniejunn @itsveronicaxxx @yoongischeeksluv @sojohns @capsiclesworld @hanniehoneyy @belladaises @listxn @cheolsbitch @atinycarat26 @moniece @foxdaisy @seventeensfave @yoozuku @hanicore @ishireads @kkooongie @huiiline @coralderae @deekayownsme @louvyves @writingsbybirdie @myjaeyunn @twogyuu @goldenhoney-cas @jonginstance @lurniere @vanishingboots @jub-jub @jjjzzzz @bee-beyond @ikeostormy @rubywonu @ncteez-replies @appt2235 @claireleem @ningwebs @gyuturn @sikebishes @antiv3nus @tyongff-ff @lxgus @forcoups @woozarts @smoooore @iwuzhere @asteriaskingdom @p-dwiddle @youre-on-your-ownkid @fragmentof-indifference @lilsafsafbooyah @9songbird19 @hibernatinghamster @norassimpingzone @parkchaeyoungsbish @foxinnie8 @idubutily @imatfrontrow @ellr07 @havetaeminforbreakfast @tacolombe @nomnom2001 @highkey-fangirling @nap-of-a-starr @pineartease @hwashiningstar @hybeboy @haoraecane @yestenano

(send an ask to be tagged <33)

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e : hello everyone i died on this account but i am back and better than ever especially since cheol has the nerve to be the finest man alive. just a warning, this fic is going to be so horrendously self-indulgent </3

SEUNGCHEOL ENTERED THE ROOM, AND YOU STILLED.

He was also wearing his wedding attire, but his cravat had been loosened, revealing a sliver of his neck. His curls were wild, as if he had been raking his hands through them. Even as a groom his sword was strapped at his side, the weapon absent at the actual ritual. You could have laughed at him if you were not so nervous—even on an apparent intimate night, he had only thoughts of murdering you.

His expression, on the other hand, revealed no humour.

You heard him sigh sharply, locking the door. That instantly had your nerves heightening. “Unlock the door,” you commanded, getting up from the bed. “I need to run away if you try to do something.”

“I shall have no drunk cousin or lecherous relative spying on us,” he refuted, stepping closer into the room.

“Spying?” your senses perked up. “Seungcheol, we are not doing anything worth spying on, do you understand?”

“What the hell do you mean?” he demanded, propping his gloved hands on his hips. He made to step closer to you but you raised your hand to stop him.

“I know a man has expectations,” you started, backing away from him, “Everyone expects us to seal the marriage, and I know that is the tradition, but I do not care…” you paused, and even the thought of such an action frightened you.

“If you try to touch me, Seungcheol, I will not hesitate to take your sword and stab myself with it.”

He parted his mouth to sneer, but he caught the look in your gaze. He had never seen such a promise ready to be fulfilled should your worst fears occur.

The man could not help but step back.

“Did you really think I would do that, _____?”

You smiled, albeit without any humour. “Well, first you declare that you would rather die by the hands of a Turk before marrying me, and here you stand as my husband.” You shook your head. “I cannot trust you.”

The accusation on his honour stung. “I stand by what I said. I did not want—do not want to marry you.”

“Then why did you say yes?!” you screamed.

He stood silent for a time, gritting his teeth.

It was the truth. Choi Seungcheol was the last man on earth who wished for your hand.

He, too, wanted to escape as the ceremony progressed. Even as you came into the church, dolled up in the height of fashion, he wished nothing more than to run out of God’s holy building, jump upon a gondola and row away from the city.

Despite his prowess, his popularity, his apparent undeniable power, he was unable to escape this marriage. There were exterior forces, beyond his control.

He said it to you truthfully.

“I was given no choice. I had to say yes.”

You did not believe him. “King of the Venetian military, the Republic’s favourite man and you could not control your choice of wife?” You almost wanted to laugh at him.

He could tell. “You would not understand,” he muttered, turning away from you. “All you have ever done is be a spoiled Doge’s daughter.”

That really ticked you off. “You have no idea what I have done for myself. You will never know of the burdens I carry for being a woman alone.” You crossed your arms, daring him to face you like a man. “All you have done is go to some foreign land and kill a few poor souls.”

Now that really ticked him off. “You speak of burdens as if I have none.” His voice dropping an octave had you blinking back. “You are not the only person who has struggled.”

You watched him as he finally deigned you a glance. There was something incredibly bleak in his usual stormy eyes. Not that you had never not seen him in a sour countenance, but this was possibly the first time you had seen him so hopeless.

“You are not the only person who has felt alone.”

A great part inside of you wished to cackle the ceiling down.

He should feel alone! You raged inside your mind, looking down at the ends of your wedding gown. He should feel something akin to loneliness so he could understand a fraction of your despair. The man was constantly surrounded by his men, his followers, hundreds of thousands of admirers from all over Europe.

You, on the other hand, had only yourself and your paint.

Even with that bitterness, no laughter spluttered from your lips.

You could only match his cruel stare, and hope he took you seriously.

A few more minutes passed before he sighed, taking off his loosened cravat from his neck, putting his sheathed sword on the set of drawers behind him. “We should sleep,” he said, stepping before the opposite side of the bed.

Watching his every move, you then shifted your gaze to the bed. “Yes…we should…”

His famous brow quirked inquisitively. “What are you thinking now?” he asked, clearly exasperated. He then continued dryly, “If you are still hesitant about the whole consummation, then I can assure you that I, too, would slice my head off if you suggested it.”

“Well, I am not suggesting it,” you muttered. “I am more puzzled about why you are getting into bed.”

His tiredness did not stop his stare turning sharp with sarcasm. “Because that is what a person does if they wish to sleep.”

“I am aware of that, thank you.” You put a hand to your chest. “But I wish to sleep as well, and I will be damned before I let you sleep in the same bed as me.”

Now his gaze turned mocking. “My God, you have some nerve saying such a thing.” He set the cravat down on the bedside table. “If you have a problem with me sleeping here, you can sleep somewhere else.”

“Excuse me!” you exclaimed, reaching out to clutch the bedsheets. “This is my bedroom. I have slept here my entire life!” You huffed, sitting on the plush mattress. “Besides, are you soldiers not accustomed to sleeping anywhere? I am sure my bedroom floor is a lavish upgrade from whatever hellsite you rested abroad.”

“Oh, you—” he brought his knee upon the bed, hands further placed as he leaned closer to you. “I care very little whether you have been sleeping here all your life. Your father brought me here, so I have a right to this space.”

You matched his vigour instantly, leaning just as close, sparking a fire in your expression. “And I care none if Papa brought you here—hell, if the Pope carried you to this very room.” His growing rage had no effect on your own. “Sleep. On. The. Floor.”

Mere inches away from each other, the general stared you down. Had the receiver of such a cruel eye been his soldiers, they would have run for the lakes, abandoned the army altogether. Seungcheol’s cold, calculating glares have had enemies shiver in their masses.

It irked him so ardently that his infamous tactics ceased to work on you.

He looked over your features: the manic, determined glint in your pupils, the flared nose, the pursed lips. No one, a woman, no less, had stood up to him like this.

Of course, he should not have been surprised. You had always been a sharp pain in his backside.

God, I cannot let her win, his voice rang, over and over in his head. She cannot have this over me.

But then he saw a glint in your usual mischievous gaze, and he knew you were about to commit a crime.

He was not wrong.

Because you did have an idea, and you smirked, fingers rising to the thin bow on the top of your dress.

Slowly, you began to untie the lace.

Seungcheol watched with no small amount of horror as your rigid wedding gown began to loosen at the top, its flared arms drooping around your shoulders.

You made to untie the second lace when he raised his hands, twisting his lips into a scowl. “What the hell are you doing?!” he demanded, getting off the bed.

“What does it look like?” You untied the string, dress falling further down till you needed your hands to hold it steady.

A single drop, and everything would be revealed.

The greatest general in the peninsula nearly squirmed at the thought.

Your fingers toyed with the last lace.

His eyes darted to your movements. Then, to your face, and you noticed the change of expression—it was as if he was thinking of a military strategy, a last-minute decision on the battlefield.

Once again, you pulled at the string.

But before the knot was fully untied you heard a savage growl escape his mouth.

“Oh, for God’s sake!”

Before you even let the dress fall, he swerved around, grabbing hold of his sword from the drawers. “Fine! Have your room!” The muscles on his back flexed as he raked a hand in his hair. “You are truly ridiculous!”

You could only laugh at the scene of him thundering to the door, vigorously unlocking it and storming out.

The laughter did not stop as you changed into your nightgown, shaking your head.

You did not care if Choi Seungcheol had become your husband.

You were not going to let anything of your life change.

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orshii · 2 months

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Crashing Waves and Second Chances

☆ Summary: You’re enjoying a well-deserved vacation with your best friend after finishing college in Greece when you run into Wooyoung, your first love from high school. The unexpected encounter stirs up old feelings and unresolved issues from your past. As Wooyoung tries to explain and make sense of what happened between you, you’re faced with a choice: revisit the past and seek closure, or move forward and see if there’s a new possibility for your relationship. Will you let him explain and explore the chance for a fresh start?

☆ Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader ☆ Genre: fluff, angst, idiots in love ☆ Word count: 6,8 k

☆A/N: Waa this is my first Wooyoung ff and I'm crying. Wooyoung recently is so insane like?? I just love him and he reminded me he also exists next to my two biases :'(( But I'm back in my Wooyoung era again, yess!! And as I want to be in Greece I wrote this story, because I'm going feral staying home. And of course, because it's Greece I needed to include some Greek God references too haha. It is worth reading it till the end cause I kinda died. :D Also sorry for the mistakes I am still learning. Soo enjoy this little drabble hihi!! Byee! (divider)

The slight waves of the turquoise sea crashed along the sandy beach, sparkling from the sun beaming at its highest point. The sound of the waves lured me into a daze as the world's nestled sounds slowly disappeared. The sun burnt my skin like I was in the underworld, the sun being Hades himself, looking at me with hungry, burning eyes. But then a slight chill ran through my body as the summer breeze crawled through my skin, trying to cool down the heat I was feeling. Suddenly I felt like I was in heaven as I walked on the beach, the waves of the cool sea crashing against my foot, the wind blowing through my hair, through my white dress, as the sun slowly went down, creating a breathtakingly beautiful landscape as the sky was full of orange and red colours, the sea copying its beauty, making it look like the sky was never-ending, just as the sea.

Then I heard screaming.

And that was the moment when I opened my eyes quickly as something cold wetted me and I immediately sat up from the sunbed just to realize I was, in fact, next to the sea, but the screaming came from a little kid that just ran next to me and he just needed to get rid of the water dripping from his hair next to me. The next thing I noticed was me being as red as a crab because I fell asleep under the sun. Great, now I'm going to sleep on my back for a weak and look like half-cooked meat. I squinted from the pain as I wanted to stand up to get into the water to cool down at least.

My best friend next to me looked at me through her sunglasses a book in her hands and completely under the umbrella's shadow. She smirked at me enjoying my suffering.

"Thank you for waking me up to not burn into ashes," I said to her ironically as I squinted my eyes at her.

"You looked like you had a good dream, I just couldn't wake you up." He said acting innocent.

"Whatever, I'm going to drown in the sea," I said joking to her as she giggled at that.

"Be careful, you might get dragged down by Poseidon himself." My best friend shouted after me as I was walking towards the shore.

"I wish, dude, I wish." I turned back for a quick moment to say it to her with a smirk.

Then as I hit the water, I felt relieved because the cool water chilled my hot body and mind a little. I quickly went deeper into the sea, diving underwater just to open my eyes and look around the crystal-clear water, where I saw a few little fishes swimming around –actually swimming away from me because they were scared little shits—well I would be too if a shark would swim towards me that is no question.

The water was sparkling around me from the sand that flew upwards from the bottom of the sea, and as the sun beamed through the water it sparkled and I just lived for it, because it was so mesmerizing, I honestly could live as a mermaid, I would volunteer—

I swam around a little, cooling down so I could feel like a human again, I turned on my back and just floated on the water like garbage, pretending I was dead. Meanwhile, I thought about how I was waiting for this moment, to get away from the full-year pressure I was under, with my best friend, as we planned to get away from home for a vacation after we just graduated, leaving the stress and the pressure behind trying to figure out what is going to happen next. We just wanted to enjoy our little time together here and close out the responsibilities that came with us being unemployed as we finished college.

We decided we were going to travel to Greece, which was both of our favorite places on earth, because we felt like this place connected us, and a little piece of our hearts just felt like it was made from the soil of this landscape. We just felt a connection towards it, that pulled us towards this place. And let's not talk about the tell stories of the Gods, each of them beaming a uniqueness that didn't exist on this Earth. And when we finally arrived, we couldn't stop smiling, every stress and uneasiness leaving our souls just to feel a little relieved.

As I walked back to our sunbeds, where my best friend, Bora was sitting, still holding a book in front of her, being lost in the imaginary world, I glanced through the beach and my eyes immediately got caught on people surfing on the big waves of the crystal water, the waves making a tunnel where the professional surfers went through. I immediately got excited, wanting to try it, as I arrived at my best friend with an excited smile.

"People are surfing, look!" I pointed towards the shore, where two surfing tutors were standing, helping people out to try this sport. "And those tutors might be our next catch, just saying." I winked at her, to catch his attention, as she looked towards them with now an interested look. Her face looked like she was thinking, calculating if it was a good decision or not.

"Please?" I interlaced my hands and looked at her with puppy eyes. I always wanted to try out surfing, and this was the perfect occasion. And not for the tutors that I wanted to check closer, not at all—

Bora sighed. "Okay, let's go, surfing seems fun. And the two men there look interesting from the back." She smirked at me as I nodded in agreement as we collected our stuff and wore our flowery beach dresses.

We approached the spot, where the surfing boards with different kinds of designs were stuck into the sand and when I spotted a well-defined back with a tattoo on the nape, that was too familiar to me, I immediately regretted my decision of wanting to learn surfing.

But it was too late because before I could signal somehow to my best friend to turn around, the black-haired one with the tattoo, who wore only black swimming shorts, turned around and his eyes immediately landed on me.

And I just wanted to shout for Poseidon to drag me deep into the sea and make me his slave, because that was better than being here standing in front of my first love that broke my heart, and he didn't even know about it.

Well, he was my high school crush and I was head over heels for him, and he gave me signs that were so questionable, he made my little heart believe he wanted something from me as well. But in the end, he got together with a blonde girl with perfect red lips and a perfect body. So, eventually, I needed to let it go and get over him somehow that felt impossible. I managed to forget him with time as I didn't see him for years. But seeing him now still made my heart beat crazy like we were back in high school. And I hated it.

As he saw us approach, he nudged the person next to him, who had black hair with some blonde stripes in it, and he turned as well just to his eyes start to sparkle with excitement his lips in awe, seeing us. His dimples slightly showed from the smile he beamed at us, wearing light blue swimming shorts, his well-defined body on the sight.

They were standing there, waiting for us to approach, looking at us with different expressions. Song Mingi with pure happiness and Jung Wooyoung with wide eyes.

Jung Wooyoung the black haired and Song Mingi with the oreo hair, we were all classmates along with my bestie, Bora. The four of us were kind of inseparable. But when I started to feel more than friends towards Wooyoung, things got complicated and when we finished high school, we never saw each other. That was why some uneasy feelings swam back to me, when Bora hugged Mingi in excitement, their friendship ending just because both their best friends were fools, it wasn't fair, but this was a best friend's job after all, to be there for your best friend.

Then I just put aside all my thoughts about the past and hugged Mingi with a generous smile, I really missed Mingi, because he was like my brother back in high school. We had been friends since the beginning of school and with time Wooyoung and Bora joined us, but before them, it was just me and Mingi, we could speak about everything and anything, making us inseparable. But after what happened between the four of us it suddenly disappeared, the friendship we built through the years lost like it never existed.

When I hugged Wooyoung it wasn't sincere, I still hated him, for treating me like he did in the past, and it made me want to run away as quickly as possible.

"What are you guys doing here?" Bora asked as she hugged Wooyoung as well.

"We got a summer job here," Mingi spoke up as I avoided Wooyoung's gaze on me, focusing on Mingi only. "We are teaching people surfing and we are on a vacation at the same time, isn't it perfect?" Mingi said with excitement, his eyes shining from how sincere he was with his emotions that were always so obvious if you knew him sincerely.

"I didn't know you were into surfing," I said a little frowning, as I looked at Mingi as Wooyoung's presence still annoyed me.

"Well, we tried it out with Wooyoung for fun, and here we are, aren't we Woo?" He nudged Wooyoung with a smile, who was quiet the whole time, which was very unlike him, he just never shut up back then, and it was weird seeing him staying in silence. When Mingi nudged him a little that was when he caught up on himself and smiled back at Mingi.

"It's a vacation and we even get paid, is it heaven?" Wooyoung said as he chuckled, then looking towards us, well at me, with sharp foxlike eyes that I hated at that moment, but loved back then. "And you girls? On vacation?" He asked staring into my soul as I unwantedly looked through his still-handsome features, the unforgettable mole under his left eye, his wet hair a few strings falling into his eyes, making his gaze more intense, his bare torso on the sight, a new tattoo on his ribs that was a writing in another language.

"Yeah, we graduated and we are celebrating," I said shortly, with a fake smile as I averted my gaze from his handsome face. I hated how he made me lose my mind by only looking at him, after years of not seeing him.

"That's so nice, sometimes I regret that we missed out on college, it could have been wild," Mingi said as he chuckled looking at Wooyoung for a slight moment, who chuckled in agreement, then Mingi looked towards us again. "So did you want to learn how to surf or you just wanted to say hello?" Mingi asked curiously.

"Y/N wanted to try it out," Bora said quickly side-glancing at me with a knowing smile. I am going to kill her, so she can stay in Greece for the rest of her 'not' life.

I looked at her, somehow not too obviously telling her with my eyes that—I did not want to anymore.

Mingi clasped his hands together, "Cool, then you found the perfect men to teach you and it's even free for you girls." Mingi winked at us with a proud smile.

I wanted to back up, but I just couldn't be childish like that, to run away because my high school crush was in front of me years after, I wasn't like that…but I sincerely hated him at that moment.

With that Mingi started to explain the tactics of surfing, and firstly they showed us how to stand on the board on the dry so we would have at least a little knowledge of how to do it on water.

Meanwhile, Mingi taught Bora, next to them Wooyoung and I were standing as he explained to me how to hold the paddle, that beginners needed to use at first. I avoided his eyes in every moment I could. It was awkward and I counted the time so we could say goodbye to them and avoid them for the rest of the trip. But the education lasted a while, because we tried it out on the shallow water as well, sitting on the boards at first with the paddle and the first mission was to stand up, which I was struggling with at first but after countless fallings into the water I finally managed to stand up on the board.

Eventually, I had fun, I really did, because I put aside all my concerning thoughts and how I hated the man in front of me, who just sincerely tried to help me and catch me whenever I fell off the board. My emotions were a mixture of letting go of the past to start over and a mixture of not letting myself fall into his trap again.

But when I fell off the board again—because I celebrated my standing successfully on the board too hard—arms circled my waist to pull me up underwater, just to meet with two sharp eyes gazing at me with a smile, I lost against my own rules. It was just impossible not to fall into his trap when his wet hair fell damp on his forehead, his dimples showing from the curve of his lips, his chocolate brown eyes staring down at me, which looked almost orange from the sun shining at us. I just wanted to get away from him, because my heart started to beat fast, and I didn't want these feelings to eat me alive, it destroyed me and I didn't want that again. And as he smiled at me his face close to mine, where waterdrops fell to his chest, the thoughts of his girlfriend came back to me and that made my heart ache as I just felt overwhelmed by the fact, I nearly fell into his trap again.

So, after separating from him, I swam back to the seashore saying 'That was enough for today.' And I knew I seemed weird in their eyes, I knew my best friend also looked at me with questions in her eyes, but I just wanted to get away from there so I could breathe again normally.

My plan of avoiding them for the rest of the trip, seemed to completely fail because we just bumped into Wooyoung and Mingi every day. And we started to hang out together like in the old times. It was weird at first but after a little, I relaxed a bit and I didn't let my feelings fuck up my well-deserved vacation. So, I started to be there with them, to laugh with them and just enjoy our time together.

One evening, Mingi told us we should celebrate our graduation with some drinks, which seemed the best idea because we hadn't really drunk for our success with Bora, so we agreed immediately.

"So, how's it with Wooyoung?" Bora side-glanced at me while putting lipstick on her thin lips that was a strong red color standing in front of the mirror in our hotel room.

I scoffed at her. "Nothing? You know I sincerely hate him." I started looking at him quite sharply.

She looked at me from the reflection of the mirror as I stood next to my bed, thinking what should I wear. "C'mon, Y/N, it was a long time ago, just enjoy yourself," Bora said, closing the lipstick she used.

"I know, it's just…" I sat down on my bed staring down at my hands. "He still owes me some explanation of what happened in London and with everything, like I'm so confused from day one, Bora, it's insane how I can't forget what happened." I rambled to Bora as she turned around to look at me with concerned eyes.

She came next to me and sat beside me to caress my back. "Yea, it was so fucked-up, that whole trip was a disaster, and you really deserve an explanation of why he did that." She smiled at me genuinely, "And I'm sure Wooyoung wants to talk to you, he wanted to since we met with them, you just avoided him the whole time."

"Yes, because I can't fucking look into his eyes, without my old emotions coming to the surface and I hate it…" I looked into Bora's concerned eyes.

"Well, I think you two should talk, because it looks more complicated than it is." She said as she smiled, her eyes forming crescents.

I scoffed at that. "Just help me pick out an outfit." I leaned down towards my luggage which was a mess just like myself.

"So you could look pretty for Wooyoung?" He nudged me with his elbow, smirking as I hit his upper arm in response.

"I want to look pretty, for myself and not for others."

"Great, you should absolutely wear this," She pulled out a little black dress with a v-line and some ruffles on the end. "It's cute and sexy at the same time." She winked at me.

I rolled my eyes at her and ripped my dress out of her grip annoyed just so I could wear it. When I looked into the mirror as I was wearing the black dress, a confident, cute, and sexy girl stared back at me as Bora said. The dress reached a little above my knees, the v-line leaving my neck empty, so I put on a silver necklace with matching earrings. I left my hair to fall onto my shoulders naturally, the shorter strings of my hair falling into my eyes. As Bora stood next to me to check herself out as well, she looked gorgeous, she was wearing a tight purple dress, highlighting her perfect body line, and her black hair was in a tight bun with some silver earrings and rings. We looked hot and we were ready to gradually celebrate our graduation.

We arrived at the bar next to the pool that was lightened up with a few colorful led, that matched with the lights of the bar that was surrounded with tables and bar stools. It was already close to midnight as we were searching for the boys. Then Bora spotted them and we walked towards them between strange people, who enjoyed the free drinks as well in the perfect night weather.

When I spotted Wooyoung, who was standing next to a table with Mingi, drink already in hand, I just couldn't take my eyes off him, as my heart started to beat fast. He looked so handsome in his black shirt, the last two buttons undone, his sharp collarbones on the sight, paired with black denim shorts, that reached above his knees, his tattoo peaking a little that I just noticed he had, then my eyes landed back to his face, where his hair was wiped back a few strings falling onto his eyes, making his sharp gaze, more intense. His silver earrings hung low from his ears with a few piercings that matched with his silver necklace. He eyed me up and down very obviously with his intense gaze. And I just prayed for Poseidon to kidnap me, because it was hard to keep up, above water.

Mingi was standing next to him, wearing a bright purple shirt with blue denim shorts and a lot of accessories like necklaces, earrings, and a lot of silver rings. And we just needed to laugh because we unintentionally matched with each other, this was our dynamic, and it wasn't the first time.

As we started to drink a few cocktails and some shots the party started, the colorful lights making us disappear into the crowd that surrounded us. I danced with my hands held high jumping to the beat of the music as I felt free after an overwhelming year. The four of us were standing in a circle as we made a few silly dance moves laughing at each other. My eyes met with Wooyoung's a few times, which was a very big mistake because I felt his gaze on me the whole night the tension between us heavier and it made me uncomfortable because all of this was unfair.

So, I decided I needed more drinks and went to the bar counter to ask for a lighter cocktail and sat on the barstool until it got ready, watching the bartender in awe as he made the cocktail with some tricks.

Then suddenly I felt a hand on my waist and a strange black-haired man's face came in front of me. He was wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned his well-defined chest and abs in sight, his shoulders broad and a silver necklace ending with a cross on his popped-up chest, as he was wearing sunglasses, and I frowned.

"Am I blind or the sun is somewhere up above?" I asked the strange man in confusion as the alcohol made me feel woozy as I looked around.

The stranger chuckled at that and lifted the sunglasses to his forehead lifting his hair, making his undercut more visible. His sharp eyes were now on the sight, which reminded me of a cat. "Yes, it's up don't you see it? It's everywhere." He showed around with his hand to the lights that surrounded us and he plopped down to the barstool next to me. He smiled at me as his deep dimples showed and made his face more handsome.

I giggled at his statement and reached for my drink, sipping from it as I looked at the strange man.

"So, what does a pretty girl like you, do here alone drinking?" He leaned closer to my ear so I could understand what he said as the music was too loud.

"I'm with my friends, I just came for a drink." I pointed towards my friends, where my eyes immediately met with Wooyoung's, who was just standing there with folded arms, looking at us with killer eyes. It was my time to shine.

"Are they only your friends?" He asked with a knowing smile.

I just nodded.

The stranger hummed. "I'm Choi San." He leaned closer again and I barely heard what he said. "What's your name, pretty?" He looked deep into my eyes and suddenly I forgot my name.

"It's uh—Park Y/N." Finally, I could somehow stumble my name out as I reached my hand towards his to shake the handsome man's hands. And when he accepted it, he smiled at me and pulled me closer to him so he could whisper into my ear. "Will you dance with me, pretty?"

The alcohol swam around my body making my mind not to think at all, so I accepted his invite and I found myself dancing with a total stranger on my strange vacation where my high school crush shot daggers into the stranger's back.

As we danced along to the music, our bodies flushed together swaying our hips to the rhythm of the music, enjoying ourselves, suddenly we were separated by a hand that belonged to Jung Wooyoung himself, as he glared down at the stranger standing in front of him, they were the same height, but the expression on Wooyoung's face just made the stranger slightly smaller, as Wooyoung mumbled a few words to him that I couldn't expel. I only saw that San lifted his hands in surrender and grabbed Wooyoung's shoulder with one hand mumbling something back that seemed an apology. And with that, the stranger who looked like Ares himself just disappeared. And I looked after him wide-eyed, then at Wooyoung as I scoffed at him and turned around, trying to escape from the torturing crowd.

I felt angry at Wooyoung because what did he even think? Was it normal to send off a stranger that tried to just fucking dance with me? We were back when we were teenagers, back when I didn't understand anything he did, and it made me feel sick of him.

As I got out of the crowd, I just felt Wooyoung was following me with angry steps. And when he reached me, he grabbed my wrist and turned me around to angrily face him.

"Do not fucking run away from me!" He said as he yanked me closer to him, he looked pissed.

"What the hell did you think there?" I said with a sharp expression, trying to free my wrist from his grip, when I succeeded, I folded my arms in front of my chest. "Oh, I'm Jung Wooyoung, I should totally send this dude off, because he is flirting with her, and no one should touch her, only me. Even though I have a girlfriend." I started to ramble my thoughts out, as I gesticulated with my arms stressed.

"What are you talking about? I don't have a girlfriend." His expression changed from angry, to confused.

Words got stuck in my throat for a moment. "What about that blonde girl?" I asked confused.

He sighed, puffing air out of his lungs. "Nothing, she wasn't my girlfriend..."

"Well…it doesn't matter. Let's just leave it." I said as I wanted to turn around.

"No, Y/N!" He grabbed my wrist again turning me around, not letting me go this time. "Stop this stubborn attitude and let's talk!" His voice raised as his face became a little impatient.

"I don't want to talk Wooyoung! We should have, a long time ago, but it's too late now because I'm so sick of your games, I can't do this Woo." I said as my voice became lower, whispering his nickname that I loved so much.

"What games are you talking about?" His grip on my wrist became a little stronger as he held my other hand in his hands pulling me closer to him. "You confuse me just as much as I do you," He whispered it close to my face.

I looked down at our hands, and I was thinking about the fact, of how much my younger self would have liked this situation. At that, my emotions suddenly hit me and I was just too tired for this conversation.

"I'm talking about London…" My voice was barely a whisper, as I still avoided his staring eyes.

He scoffed at that, letting my hands go as he ran his fingers through his raven-black hair in frustration. "London was messed up, we both made mistakes there."

I scoffed. "Yeah, whatever you say," I said giving up.

"No for fuck's sake, don't fucking do this, Y/N! You have no idea how much I had suffered because of you." He grabbed his hair stressed as he looked at me with an emotional expression.

I was too stunned to speak, my heart pumped blood into my ears as I barely heard what he said.

"If you—If you would have told me to stay…back in London, I would've Y/N! But you said nothing and let me go, it was all on you." He said stepping closer to me, his eyes watering.

I shook my head as I stepped back. "You can't fucking say that! You knew I liked you, Wooyoung, haven't I given you enough signs?" I raised my voice at him, losing my patience.

"No, you haven't! Because you were always with that fucker, Yunho and it seemed he was more important than me the whole trip." He lifted his hands shrugging his shoulders with a disappointed look.

I laughed at that, we both acted so childish and it made me feel sick. "You know what?" I stepped closer to him as I lifted my head his face close to mine. "It was a long time ago, let's just forget it. But one last thing." My eyes stared into his sharp eyes. "You can simply fuck off," I said as he looked stunned, and I turned around walking as fast as I could to disappear from there because I had enough of him.

My life was so easy after we finished high school, it was so easy without Wooyoung…too easy. But four years later he had to come into my life when all I wanted to do was to relax a little, but he had to knock on my door and step into my life again. What was the point of it? We did not belong to each other and I learned that a long time ago.

It was 4 a.m. already as I was lying in my bed after I slammed our hotel room's door. My thoughts drowned me as I was just staring up at the white ceiling, Bora nowhere to be seen. I was thinking of the things Wooyoung said and remembered all the things that happened in London.

Well long story short—We travelled to London as a celebration of finishing high school. The things that happened there weren't a big deal thinking about it now, but back then as I was still young, life throwing out into the wild to experience the things that would make me stronger, to experience love and heartbreak at the same time, was unforgettable for a young girl.

It was our second day in London, and we went out to see the nightlife of the city. It was the four of us and a few classmates, who joined us for the night. And yes, Yunho was a good friend of mine and yes, I might happen to be with him a lot. But I was just trying to forget Wooyoung because I knew he did not return my feelings. As we got deeper into the night Wooyoung was by my side all night, holding my hand, and hugging me the whole time, and then the boys made a bet, where Wooyoung needed to kiss me out of the blue. And he did kiss me and he did tell me that he liked me, but I did not know what to do with that information as he was drunk and it might have been part of the bet.

That kiss was the best kiss of my life, it made my feelings grow deeper for him, he made me believe he felt the same, but on that night as we walked back to our hotel I unintentionally eavesdropped and heard that he did not like me it was just a bet. Then the next thing I saw was that he was kissing a girl from our classmates in front of his hotel room. And that broke me into pieces. From then I ignored Wooyoung the whole trip, not wanting to see him. Then thanks to my luck, he needed to go home sooner for some unknown reasons and I did not beg for him to stay, because I simply did not want to see him anymore.

As I was deep in my thoughts I heard the loud ping of my phone, which broke the silent bubble that embraced me. I checked my phone and it was an old group chat that I thought I was never going to see again. It was a group chat that the four of us used back then.

-Mango to 4 makes 1 team- Guys where are u??! We've been searching for u everywhere... Woo-woohoo sent a picture.

As I opened the group chat the picture that Wooyoung sent was of his hands that held a can of beer and the sea, as he was sitting on the beach, I assumed.

Mango Bro, what are you doing? Do you want to die? Woo-woohoo I'm with me, myself and I, we get along a lot. bahahahshbdwef Mango replying to Woo-woohoo Dude are u okay?? Woo-woohoo I wish the water would wash me away to Londonn. Y/n-ooo If you depart now, you might get there by the morning. Borie Guys, are we really stuck in the London situation? Woo-woohoo I don't even know what I did there... Y/n-ooo Breaking my heart? Woo-woohoo ??? Can we talk Y/n? Please... Mango These two should be locked into a dirty cell in the middle of the Pacific Ocean...istg, get your shit together you creatures!!

I sighed as I just realized I couldn't just ignore the things just because he broke my heart years ago, I was too stuck in the past that didn't even make sense.

Then another chat popped up on my screen.

Woonderland sent you a voice message.

"Y/n c'mooon, let's talk, I have no idea what I did in London but I'm sure I can explain…like the night I kissed you was the best kiss of my life and I was so glad the boys made that bet…how could someone so beautiful like you, like me, a boy who was so over himself, I couldn't believe that, I was confused, I was young and I didn't know anything about love…oh my God what am I even saying…I'mma just drown in the sea, see ya, u know like the sea. Hah, that was a nice joke." His voice stumbled the whole time I assumed he was drunk as a skunk. His words did not make much sense. I needed to find him and clear things up.

Y/nnie Where are you?

As I was walking on the beach the waves of the turquoise sea crushed against my foot, the water felt warm against my skin as my foot sank into the soft sand leaving footprints behind me, that the water washed away immediately. The wind blew on my white dress that I changed into, the sun was slowly rising from the other side of the sea, still painting it red and orange, creating a breathtaking view of the sea.

Suddenly I felt peace as my dream popped up in my mind, where I was walking on the beach. It was the same feeling, but it wasn't a dream, there weren't any kids that could wake me up screaming next to me. I was heading towards a drunken Wooyoung that I would've never imagined because if somebody had said to me, I am going to meet with my first love who broke my heart, and I was on my way to forgiving him, I would've laughed at their face in a blink of an eye.

Then I spotted Wooyoung, who was sitting on the seashore his legs pulled up to his chest a can of beer in his hands as he was staring into the infinity of the bluish sea in the twinkle of the sunrise.

As I approached him, I sat down on the soft sand next to him folding my legs under me, and stared in front of me, mimicking Wooyoung. We sat in a comfortable silence then he reached the can towards me that I took and gulped from it, the beer left a bitter taste in my mouth that went down to my stomach, leaving an emptiness on the way.

Then I just couldn't hold back anymore and I tilted my head towards him to look at his sharp side profile, he looked like Aphrodite's son, who got banned from Olympus because he was too reckless. His jawline was as sharp as Mount Olympus, his sharp eyes gazing at the sea where Poseidon was waiting for us, the sun slowly getting up as Hades cursed our blooming connection.

"So, what happened in London, from your point of view?" I broke the comfortable silence that embraced us, breaking the peace to make peace again.

He slowly turned towards me, as his eye with the mole under was now visible, which made him look more like a God. Then he broke the eye contact and stared down at his hands, fiddling with them.

"Well, when we kissed, I told you I liked you. But you did not say anything to that. It made me believe you didn't feel the same as me, so I just gave up…I just simply gave up, because I was an asshole." His voice stumbled as he explained the situation.

"I saw you kissing that girl," I said as I averted my gaze from his face towards the sea.

He looked at me wide-eyed, as he face-palmed himself. "Fuck, I was so stupid…I did kiss her, but only because I wanted to make sure it wasn't just a fling, I wanted to know if I only imagined the sparkle with you…" I felt as if he looked at me, trying to find out what I was thinking. "But then, you ignored me the whole time…which I understand now."

I just hummed. "Can we just forget the past and start over? I'm sick of this push-and-pull game we are playing…we were just two idiots…" I looked up at him with sincere emotions as he was closer than before.

"Two idiots in love?" He beamed a sincere smile at me, as his dimples were showing, making his features more handsome. And we were just staring at each other like we saw each other for the first time. We really did start it with a clean slate.

"You are so beautiful." He whispered with so much emotion in his eyes as he leaned closer to my face his breath warming more my already blushed cheeks.

I giggled at his compliment trying to hide behind my hands.

"Hey, hey, don't you dare to hide from me." He caught my wrist taking them away from my face with a smile.

Suddenly I stood up. "No, no. I'mma just go drown in the sea, I might get a lover there." I started to walk towards the sea with a smile. Then as I looked behind my back all I saw was Wooyoung getting up from the ground and running towards me.

"Not without me." He shouted as he tried to catch me. I screamed from excitement as I was running from him, nearly waking up the whole hotel. When Wooyoung caught me, he lifted me and held me on his shoulders as my head swung towards the ground. I screamed as I saw the world upwards and he started to run towards the sea crashing into the chill waves, wetting us immediately, as he finally took me down deep in the water that reached both our chins. Both of us were laughing as I started to splash him with the surprisingly warm water, our clothes long soaked as we did not care about that. The beach was echoing with splashing water and our sincere laughter, the shore was nearly empty because of the early hour as the sun just had risen, with only a few people lurking around to watch the sunrise.

As I got a little away from Wooyoung in the little splashing war we had created, he suddenly started to swim towards me and when he reached me, he caught my waist underwater, his hands encircling me, holding me strong, then he suddenly brought the both of us underwater, as we were sinking down towards the bottom, slowly opening our eyes to look at each other's mesmerizing features, both of us looking like Poseidon's stunning creatures, with our hairs flowing around us like a crown. The water sparkled around us with the sun shining above us. When we ran out of oxygen, we swam above water, just to Wooyoung pull me up close to his wet body, I naturally wrapped my legs around his waist, as his hands travelled under my thighs holding me close to him. My arms did the same as I was staring into his foxlike eyes, the waterdrops on his features perfectly slipping from his face to be one with the water that embraced us. The shirt that was glued to his skin, made his collarbone and chest peak out, where a black necklace was hanging with a moon. As my eyes found their way to his lips, I couldn't avert my gaze from his perfect red lips, salty waterdrops highlighting the mole on the bottom of his lips. My eyes met his, where desire burned with a passion that came from hell, making him look like Hades and Eros the God of carnal love.

And when his lips met mine as he held me close to him in the blue sea where we were floating like two paper-made ships, I felt like I could drown in the sea, because as his lips moved against mine, I felt like all the Gods kissed me at once, it was passionate and full of lust that made us whole again. My fingers crawled into his wet hair while we kissed pulling at it slightly as he moaned into my lips, at that my tongue found its way into his mouth discovering all the hidden places. When he got his senses back a little his tongue tangled with mine, fighting for dominance, as his hands lifted me a little to find their way on my ass as he pulled me impossibly closer to him, the water splashing between us.

When we separated after an eternity our foreheads met and we stared into each other's eyes with joy, the waking sun beaming at us from above, painting us with colors of yellow and orange that made the both of us look like a God and Goddess that could rule the world together rewarding the good and punishing the bad.

A/N: I might write Bora's and Mingi's stories as well because they aren't just old friends, they also have a complicated story. :PP

(Ateez masterlist)

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